"Tut, tut! Of course you didn't, but it's the truth nevertheless.
Well, then, it appears that Jack Rogers and I are to be the
spotsmen[1] for this little expedition, and that you and Captain
Branscome, and Mr. Goodfellow, and--yes, and Harry, too, I suppose--
are to be the Red Rovers and scour the Spanish Main. All right; only
you don't look it, exactly."
"But is not that half the battle?" urged the indomitable Plinny.
"They'll be so much the less likely to suspect us."
"They--whoever they may be--will certainly be so far deluded."
"And really--if you will consider it, ma'am--what I am proposing is
not ridiculous at all. For what is chiefly wanted for such an
adventure? In the first place, a ship--and thank God I have means to
hire one, in the second place, a trustworthy navigator--and here, by
the most unexpected good fortune, we have Captain Branscome; in the
third place, a carpenter, to provide us with shelter on the island
and be at hand in case of accident to the vessel--and here is Mr.
Goodfellow; while as for Harry--" Plinny hesitated, for the moment
at a loss; then her face brightened suddenly. "Harry can climb a
tree, and the instructions on the back of the map point to this as
necessary.
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