# The Rover Boys in Southern Waters/Chapter 25

CHAPTER XXV
ONE PLOT AND ANOTHER
"We've got the water for you," said Sack Todd. "We don't know as you deserve it, but we don't want to be mean."
As he spoke he and Gasper Pold held down a jug containing not more than two quarts.
"Not a very big supply," grumbled Tom. "We'll want a good deal more down here. This is a regular sweat-box."
"You don't have to stay any longer than you wish," answered the ex-counterfeiter, with a sickly grin.
"Ven do ve git somedings to eat?" asked Hans.
"In the morning."
This was all those above said, and soon the hatch was shut down and fastened and Todd and Pold walked slowly away.
"They didn't seem to care much whether we surrendered or not," remarked Sam.
"That makes me more suspicious than ever," answered Dick. "Boys, Dan Baxter may have been acting on the square after all."
​"Catch Dan doing that!" retorted Tom. "Why, it isn't in him, Dick."
"I don't know about that. He is bad, I know, but he may not be as much of a villain as these men are. I am going to examine the contents of this jug."
All gathered around while Dick cleaned out the tumbler and then filled it with the liquid from the jug. The water looked fairly clear, although presently something like oil began to float on top. Dick put his tongue to this and found it sweetish-bitter.
"This has certainly been dosed," said the eldest Rover. "I wouldn't take a drink of it for a good deal."
"Then Baxter must have told the truth," said Sam. "I think I know how the matter stands. Baxter got scared at what the men wanted to do, and so started in to head them off. I believe I'll take a small drink of that other water."
He did so, and the others followed, nobody, however, drinking more than half a tumbler of the liquid. This served to quench the worst of their thirst.
"Later on, if the water doesn't affect us, we can drink more," said Tom. "If Dan Baxter really did mean well it's a great credit to him, no matter how bad he is otherwise."
All sat down and talked in low tones. The ​night was now well advanced, yet nobody felt like sleeping. Suddenly Dick leaped up, considerably excited.
"I've got it, fellows! Maybe we can outwit them at their own game," he cried.
"How?" asked the others.
"Perhaps that water was drugged and was given to us to put us to sleep. If we pretend to be overcome it may throw them off their guard, and that will give us another chance to gain possession of the vessel. What do you say if we lie down and pretend to be asleep when they open the hatch?"
"All right, I am willing," answered Tom. "There is no excitement in being cooped up in this hot place. Tell you what I'll do, to force matters. You lie down and begin to snore and I'll pull the whistle. Then, when they come, I'll demand to know what is wrong with you and pitch over myself. Then we can see what happens next."
So it was arranged, and half an hour later Sam, Dick, and Hans stretched out on the engine-room floor as if completely dead to the world. Then Tom gave the whistle half a dozen sharp tugs. This brought Todd, Pold, Jeffers, and Dan Baxter to the hatchway in a hurry.
"What's the row?" demanded Gasper Pold, looking down curiously.
​"My brothers," came thickly from Tom, as he reeled around. "What did you—you—do to them? My head—like—top! You—must—must—Oh!" And then Tom sank down on a bench, slipped to the floor, and lay beside Sam.
"He's poisoned!" shrieked Dan Baxter, and his face grew as white as a sheet.
"Shut up!" muttered Sack Todd. "The dose won't kill him."
"Reckon they are all laid out," was Gasper Pold's comment, as he peered down the hatch way. "I'll go down and make sure." And he passed down the iron ladder, pistol in hand.
"How about it?" came from the mate of the Dogstar.
"Stiff as corpses," was the brutal answer. "I tell you, that dope did the business."
"Are any of them dead?" asked Dan Baxter, hoarsely.
"I don't think so," was the careless answer. "No, they are all breathing," went on Pold.
Sack Todd came down, followed by the mate of the Dogstar, and all gazed coldly at the four youths lying on the hard floor around the machinery. Dan Baxter remained at the top of the ladder, shaking as if with the palsy.
"How long do you calculate they'll remain in this condition?" asked Todd, turning to Pold.
"Ten or twelve hours at least," was the answer. ​"And maybe they won't get over it for twenty-four."
"Any bad effects?"
"Well, sometimes that dope paralyzes a man's tongue for six months or a year."
"Phew! That's pretty rough."
"Once in a great while the paralysis doesn't go away at all."
"In that case, these boys will have it in for you,—if they ever get their hands on you," said Sid Jeffers, with a wicked leer.
The men talked among themselves for several minutes and then agreed to take the boys up on deck and place them in two of the staterooms off the cabin.
"They'll have to have more air than here," said Gasper Pold. "Otherwise they'll surely die on our hands."
Dan Baxter was called on to assist, and did so with his knees fairly shaking together. He thought that our friends had surely drank of the dosed water and were in a stupor next to death.
"And if they die, they'll say I was as guilty as the rest!" he groaned to himself. "Oh, I wish I was out of this!"
It was no easy matter to get the three Rovers and Hans on deck and to the staterooms. Here our friends were placed two on a berth, and, for the time being, left to themselves.
​"Boys, we have had a narrow escape," whispered Dick, when he at last thought it safe to speak.
"That's the truth," came from Sam. "And we have Dan Baxter to thank for it!" he added. "I can't understand that part of it."
"I think I can," answered Tom. "Baxter is bad enough, but he didn't go in for poisoning us. I am glad to know he isn't quite so heartless as that."
"Dem fellers ought to be all hung, ain't it!" was Hans' comment.
"The question is, What are we to do next?" asked Tom.
"That question is not so easily answered," returned his elder brother. "I know what I should like to do."
"What, Dick?" asked Sam.
"I'd like to make all of the gang prisoners."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Tom, in a low voice. "But can it be done?"
"I don't know. For the present let us play 'possum and find out."
"Vot kind of a game vos dot possum?" asked Hans innocently. "I ton't dink we got dime to play some games," he added, seriously.
"Dick means to lay low," explained Sam.
"Vot, lay under der peds?"
"No, keep quiet and watch out."
​"Oh! All right, I done me dot kvick enough," said Hans, and fell back on the berth and shut his eyes.
"You fellows keep quiet while I investigate," said the eldest Rover. "It is so late some of the crowd may have gone to sleep. If so, we may have a chance to capture the others first."
So it was arranged, and making certain that his pistol was still in his pocket, Dick slid from the berth, tiptoed his way to the stateroom door, and, opening it slowly and cautiously, peered out.
One look into the cabin of the Mermaid told him the apartment was empty. There were two more staterooms, connected, as were those the boys were occupying. With a heart that beat rather violently, Dick stepped to the door of one of these staterooms. From within came a deep and regular snoring.
"Somebody is asleep in there," he mused. "Who can it be?"
With great care he peered into the room. On the berth rested one of the sailors from the Dogstar and on the floor rested the other, both evidently much the worse for liquor.
The door to the second stateroom was wide open and Dick caught sight of a form on the berth in there. It was Dan Baxter. The bully was not asleep but was tossing about, as if ​in either mental or physical distress. As Dick looked at him he suddenly started up, turned around, and stared.
"Dick Rover!" he screamed. "Are you alive, or is it a—a ghost?"