poachers ain't quite so bad as smugglers would have been, and that's one
satisfaction, I take it."

"But they're bad enough," urged Davy; "because they must be breaking the
laws by taking fish in some way that ain't allowed. And if trapped they
stand a chance to face a heavy fine, or a long sentence in jail, perhaps
both. And if, as Thad says, they've got the silly idea in their heads
that we're connected with the Canadian militia, and came here meaning to
destroy their nets, and likewise haul the men over the coals, why,
they'll either skedaddle and leave us marooned on old Sturgeon for
keeps, or else do something worse."

"What sort of worse, Davy?" demanded Bumpus. "There you go again,
saying things in a sort of half-cooked way, and leaving the rest to a
fellow's wild imagination. Do you mean you believe they'd really hurt
us, when we ain't so much as lifted a finger to do the bunch any harm?
Speak out and tell us, now, you old croaker."

"Thad, what do you think they might do?" Davy asked, under the
impression that he would be wise to leave the explanation of the matter
to one who was more capable of handling it than he could possibly be.

"If they were sensible men," remarked the other, deliberately, as though
he had given that particular thought much attention, "I wouldn't be
afraid, because then we could reason with them, and explain that we were
only a party of the Boy Scouts of America, off on a little cruise, and
shipwrecked in the storm; also, that if they helped us in any way we'd
just forget that we'd ever seen them here."

"But explain and tell us what you mean by hinting that they mightn't be