He had been absent but a few minutes, and Paul had not yet appeared with the tin box. If the cunning strategist had been asked why he concealed the oars and the boathook, very likely he would have replied that he had done so to prevent the possibility of an escape on the part of his victim. But Tom was a cunning fellow, and this was by no means his object. If he failed to accomplish his purpose in the first onslaught, there is not the slightest doubt that he would have been entirely willing that his intended victim should escape, and even be glad to have him do so, even if he had been left to find his way on foot from the point. The three implements which constituted the furniture of the Dragon might be dangerous weapons in the hands of a resolute fellow like Paul Bristol. He had secured a club for himself, and picking it up, he was plying it as a cane and plaything, in order to avert any suspicion as to its probable use. Paul soon returned with the tin box in his hand. It was an old mustard can, and it was not a convenient thing to have in his pocket, and was of no value. He took the rings and money from it, and put them into his pocket, throwing away the can. "How much money have you got, Bristol Brick?" asked Tom, with his usual grin. "Only a two-dollar bill, and that belongs to my mother," replied Paul, who did not know his companion, and would not have been afraid of losing the money if he had. "Ain't you goin' to spend it down to Westport, and treat a feller that helps you row the boat?" asked Tom, with a mighty grin. "Of course not; I don't spend my mother's money for anything, without her orders to do so," replied Paul. "What odds does it make?" "It makes a good deal of odds to me, for I don't spend what don't belong to me. By the big wooden spoon! There comes the Sylph again, and without the gundalow in tow. She is going as though she were running a race too. It looks to me just as though Captain Dory Dornwood had gone crazy, and I shouldn't wonder if Captain Gildrock hauled him over the coals for it." "Is the cap'n aboard?" inquired Tom. "No; he went to Burlington this morning in the cars." "Then he won't know nothin' about it." "Some one will be sure to tell him; but the officers have to keep a log, and put down the speed every hour. I am afraid Dory will catch it, for that steamer is running fifteen knots an hour. They say she can do it, but the fellows are not allowed to do more than twelve." "All right; but I guess we can watch her from the boat just as well as we can here," suggested the strategist, placing himself close behind his victim, and bracing up for the effort he was to make. "If she comes near us, we can hail her, and find out what she is doing, for I should like to know," added Paul, as he stepped down to the beach, in the direction of the bow of the boat; but his eyes were fixed all the time on the steamer, which was certainly going like the Flying Dutchman.