“The ipecac was my choice. It isn’t poison. The general idea was Captain
Benson’s. With a lad like him you haven’t a chance.”

“Benson, you infernal cheat, you!” muttered Truax, and started to get out
of the berth. But he was weak, and the attendant had no difficulty in
thrusting him back.

“In view of what you’ve been telling us, you’d better not sprinkle bad
names about,” said the surgeon, turning on his heel. He was followed by
the others, all chuckling.

“Mr. Benson,” said Doctor McCrea, when the party was in the cabin, “are
you my friend?”

“I certainly am, sir,” cried Jack warmly.

“Thank you,” said the doctor, making a comical face. “With your head for
doing things, Mr. Benson, I feel safer with your friendship than I should
if I had your enmity.”

While they were still chatting in the cabin of the gunboat a shot sounded
on deck. Then a corporal of marines rushed in, saluting.

“The prisoner, Truax, sir, escaped while walking under guard on deck. He
dived headlong, sir. The marine guard fired after him through the
darkness, sir. The officer of the deck sends his compliments, sir, and
wants to know if Truax is to be pursued in a small boat.”

“At once, and with all diligence,” ordered the lieutenant commander.