The Lakewood boys in the South Sea islands

CHAPTER IV.

CATCHING A SHARK.

Before many hours had passed Bob was to learn that the Pacific did not always live up to its name. When he awoke the following morning, shortly before seven o'clock, his first impression was that it was very hot, much hotter than when he had gone to bed the night before. For some moments he lay dozing, feeling too enervated to spring from the bed as was his custom on waking. Then came a loud rap on the door, and, at his invitation, it opened quickly and his uncle entered.

"Not up yet?" he asked.

"Not, but I will be in a jiffy," Bob replied as he swung his feet to the floor.

"What's the hurry?" came in sleepy tones from Jack's bunk on the other side of the little room.

"Looks as though we were running into a storm and you'd better get your breakfast before we strike," his uncle told them.

"Don't hear any wind," Jack said as he jumped up.

"There isn't a breath of air stirring."

"Then what makes you think it's going to blow?" Bob asked.

"That's the way they start down here. Better get a hustle on. Breakfast's all ready."

"We'll be there in two shakes of a dog's tail," Bob told him as he turned and left the cabin.

"Gee, but it's hot," Jack declared pulling on his trowsers.

"Hotter'n love in haying time," Bob agreed. "But I suppose we've got to expect that sort of thing down here. We're pretty near the equator you know."

As they emerged on deck three minutes later, a peculiar sensation struck both at the same instant. As their uncle had said, not a breath of air seemed stirring and the surface of the sea was like that of a mill pond, not so much as a ripple breaking its smoothness. The sun was half obscured by a thin haze, while, apparently rising from the ocean in the west, a low lying, dirty looking tank of clouds, caught their attention.

"Looks as though there might be some wind in them," Bob said pointing to the west.

"Wouldn't wonder," Jack agreed, just as Captain Ole came around a corner of the wheel house.

"Is it going to blow, Captain?" Bob asked.

"Yep, it's going to blow all right and mighty soon too. Had your breakfast?"

"Not yet."

"Then get it as soon as you can. This boat'll be standing on her tail before long, and no knowing how long it'll be before you get another square meal."

"He looks a bit worried," Jack said, as they hurried toward the mess cabin.

On the side of the room close to where they sat was a barometer and Bob glanced at it as they took their places at the table.

"29.75," he read the figures aloud.

"That's pretty low, isn't it?" Jack asked.

"Rather."

They hurried through the meal, but before they had finished they were aware of a peculiar moaning sound which seemed to be stealing over the surface of the water, and they noted that the glass had fallen five full points since they had sat down.

"She's sinking pretty fast," Jack declared, as he got up from his chair.

"Yep, I reckon it's going to be what they call a rip snorter," Bob said as he followed him from the room.

On deck, they found the crew making fast every moveable object under the direction of Pat Barney who greeted them with a cheery grin as he said "the top uv the mornin' to yer." Already a slight breeze was rippling the surface of the sea and the bank of clouds had spread until the entire sky was covered.

"You boys had better get below," Captain Ole shouted from the wheel house.

"You think there's danger?" Bob called back.

"Hope not, but you never can tell down here. This may be nothing but a hard blow and then again it may be a cyclone."

"We'd rather stay on deck if you don't mind," Bob told him and added: "Of course, we'll go below if it's your order."

"Oh, stay if you want to, but when she strikes she's apt to strike hard, and you want to be near something to cling to."

"We will," Bob assured him.

It was now growing rapidly darker, and the moaning sound was increasing in intensity. The air seemed to thicken perceptibly moment by moment, and it was hot and moist. Then the first gust struck. It was not quite a squall, but was strong enough to cause the Valkyrie to slide off her course several points.

"If you're going to stay on deck, you'd better get on oil skins."

Mr. Lakewood had come from the main cabin unnoticed until he spoke. He was clad in oil skins which made him look like a typical longshoreman.

"All right, we'll get them," Bob replied as he started for the cabin closely followed by Jack.

By the time they had reached the locker room, the boat was pitching rather violently and they had to watch their steps on the way back. Once more on deck they were surprised to see how rough a sea the wind had kicked up in so short a time. Huge rollers, their crests tipped with white foam, bore down on them from the north-east, and it seemed that the boat was rushing through the water at a terrific pace. Each moment the wind seemed to be increasing in strength. It came in gusts at short intervals, and each one seemed stronger than the one before. And now huge drops of rain began to pelt down, and in less than five minutes it was raining in torrents. It was now so dark that they could see hardly the length of the ship.

Mr. Lakewood was standing at the foot of the stairway leading to the bridge, and, as they made their way to his side, they could see that he was worried.

"You think it's a cyclone?" Bob shouted

"No, I don't think so, but it's going to be some blow," his uncle shouted back.

Just then a loud whirring sound rose above the noise of the wind, coming from the rear, and both boys looked at their uncle.

"That's the propeller," he told them. "The way she's pitching now it'll be out of the water about half the time. But don't you get scared," he added. "The Valkyrie is seaworthy and she'll outride the storm all right."

The ship was now pitching so violently that they were all obliged to cling fast to the railing of the stairway to keep their feet.

"If this isn't a cyclone then I'd hate to see one," Jack laughed as a huge wave sent a smother of spray over the bow.

"What makes you think it isn't one?" Bob asked his uncle.

"They don't usually come in the morning," he replied.

Soon after, Mr. Lakewood proposed that they join the captain in the wheel house.

"There's plenty of room in there and I don't reckon he'll mind, and there's no use staying out here in the rain. But you want to cling tight going up those stairs."

He led the way and the boys followed. Once Jack was all but blown off his feet but he recovered his balance and finally they were all inside.

"How does it look to you?" Mr. Lakewood asked.

"It's not so bad," Captain Ole shouted back.

Bob looked at Jack, and Jack looked at Bob. "What did he call bad?" was the question in their eyes.

"Think it'll get worse?"

"No. Glass is rising."

But it continued to blow with unabated fury, so far as the boys could see, for several hours, but finally, along toward noon, they could tell that the violence of the wind was decreasing, and a little later the sun peeped out from behind the clouds, just as a gong struck telling them that dinner was ready.

"So we aren't going to miss a meal after all," Bob laughed as they started down the stairway.

"But I'll tell you now that I was worried for a bit, and so was the captain," their uncle told them. "The beginning of that storm had all the earmarks of a rip snorter at first. I've been through them, and I know the signs, but we must have just struck the edge of it."

"And it was some edge at that," Jack laughed as he sat down at the table.

Although the boat was still pitching too violently to permit of anything of a liquid nature to be placed on the table there was plenty of solid food, and all were hungry.

When they returned to the deck, the rain had ceased and the wind had slackened to a stiff breeze, but the waves were still running high enough to cause the Valkyrie to pitch rather violently as she slid from crest to trough.

"She didn't stand on her tail though," Jack shouted to Captain Ole who was still at the wheel.

"An' you can thank your lucky stars that she didn't," he called back.

"Did we get off our course much?" Bob asked as they reached the wheel house.

"Not much we didn't," the captain replied indignantly. "I shot the sun just before you came out, and, unless I'm off my reckoning, we'll cross the line in about an hour from now."

"You mean the equator?" Jack asked.

"Sure, I mean the equator. What other line is there down here, I'd like to know?"

"Well, I reckon we're lucky that we didn't get snarled up in it," Bob laughed as Pat came in, and the captain turned the wheel over to him and announced that he was going to get something to eat.

"Snarled up in what?" Pat asked as soon the captain left the room.

"Oh, that was only some of Bob's foolishness," Jack told him. "He was trying to be funny because the captain spoke of the equator as a line."

By nightfall the sea had fallen to a gentle swell, and there was every indication of fair weather ahead.

"What's that thing following us?"

It was the following morning, shortly after ten o'clock, and the two boys, together with their uncle, were sitting beneath an awning in the stern of the boat as Bob asked the question, at the same time pointing to a triangular shaped object some hundred feet astern.

"It's a shark," his uncle told him.

"I've been watching him for some time, and that's what I thought it was. He must be a pretty good sized one."

"Yes, they get pretty large down this way and pretty ugly too."

"Well, I hate to fall overboard just now," Jack shuddered. "Do they often follow boats that way?" he asked.

"It's not unusual," his uncle told him. "Probably someone threw over something he could eat and he's hoping he'll do it again. I've known one to follow a ship for more than a day. How'd you like to catch him?"

"Could we?"

Both boys asked the question at the same time.

"If we've got a shark hook aboard we can have a try at him," Mr. Lakewood said as he arose. "You keep your eye on him and I'll go see if I can find one, Ole ought to have some."

"Talk about fishing," Bob said as his uncle left them.

"Wonder what kind of a rod you use," Jack mused.

"Rod! I reckon you don't use a rod at all."

"A body'd think you'd fished for sharks all your life," Jack declared.

"But just imagine playing that fellow on a rod. Why, he's likely all of twelve feet long."

"Some baby," Jack grinned, keeping his eye on the fish, which was now a little nearer.

Mr. Lakewood returned a few minutes later, carrying a large reel of line which was nearly as thick as a clothes line, and fastened to the end was the largest fish hook the boys had ever seen.

"Thought he must have one," he smiled as he put the reel down on the deck. "Now, Jack, you go ask Wong for a big hunk of salt pork, while Bob and I are getting this reel anchored so that we can handle our friend out there provided we hook on to him."

The reel was a strongly built affair and was provided with a handle, which was long and looked firm enough to stand any reasonable strain which might be put on it.

"How you going to hold it?" Bob asked as Jack disappeared.

"It's fixed so that it can be attached to this snubbing post this way," and Mr. Lakewood proceeded to make it firm with the aid of a bit of chain which he had brought with him.

Everything was ready by the time Jack returned with a hunk of pork, which must have weighed all of five pounds.

"This big enough?" he asked.

"I reckon it'll do." Taking the meat, Mr. Lakewood stuck the hook, which was fully a foot in length, through the middle of it.

"Now, Jack, suppose you go and ask whoever's at the wheel to slow down to about half speed. We're going so fast that I'm afraid the bait'll just skip along the surface and, you know, a shark has to turn over pretty well onto his back when he bites."

Jack found Pat on the wheel, and, on being told what was up, the Irishman at once rang for half speed, and almost immediately the boat again began to slow down. Jack hurried back to find his uncle slowly paying out the line.

"Had a bite?" he chuckled.

"Not yet," Bob replied.

There was a sinker on the line, but in spite of it the hunk of meat at first skipped over the surface of the water but, as the speed of the boat lessened, it soon disappeared.

"How much line have we got?" Bob asked.

"Ole said there was about a hundred feet," his uncle told him.

"Then we must have out about fifty feet now," Jack said.

"Just about."

"I don't see his fin," Bob said a moment later.

"Maybe he's," Jack began, but before he could finish what he was going to say, there was a violent tug on the line and at the same instant there was a tremendous commotion in the water some seventy-five feet astern.

"We've hooked him," Bob shouted.

The line was now running out rapidly, and, almost before he had finished speaking, the last layer left the reel, and, for a moment the line straightened out as taut as a bowstring.

"Shall I try to reel in?" Jack shouted excitedly.

"Go ahead," his uncle consented. "After that jerk, I reckon the line will hold him."

To his great surprise, the line came in easily and he had recovered fully thirty feet when there was a sudden reversal of program on the part of the big fish, and the handle of the reel was jerked out of his hand with a suddenness which made him gasp. Again the reel ran bare, and again the line straightened out.

"Better let him tire himself out," Mr. Lakewood suggested with a smile. "I reckon that line's going to hold him."

"Gee, but did you see that," Jack gasped.

The shark had leaped clear of the water, and there was a loud splash as it fell back.

"I think we've got a whale instead of a shark," Bob declared.

"I've seen 'em bigger nor that feller."

They turned to find the second mate, Josh Kelley, standing close by the rail.

"How long do you reckon that fellow is?" Mr. Lakewood asked him.

"Not more'n eighteen feet," Josh replied.

"Isn't that pretty good sized?" Bob asked, as the fish again broke water.

"'Bout half grown."

"I'd add seven or eight feet to your estimate," Mr. Lakewood told him.

"Bet he isn't twenty."

"I never bet," Mr. Lakewood smiled. "But I'll be surprised if he doesn't run over twenty-five."

"What kind of a shark is it?" Bob asked.

"White shark, I should say," Josh told him.

"Are they the ugly kind?" Jack asked.

"They are that. They're man eaters. Isn't that so, Josh?" Mr. Lakewood asked, turning to the mate.

"Wal, if they're full grown they're kinder unpleasant, so ter speak," the Yankee, with a slight sneer in his voice, acknowledged.

"Suppose you try to wind him in again, Jack," Mr. Lakewood suggested. "I'll go get my rifle. We want to be sure he's dead before he comes aboard. But look out he doesn't yank that handle out of your hand and break a wrist."

Jack began to turn the handle of the reel but the line came in with difficulty and he had about all he could do to regain any of it. Once again the fish made a sudden dash and the reel whirred as the line ran out. The boy let it run till the reel was again bare and then began to wind in again. By this time several of the crew were gathered in the stern watching the fight, among them Captain Ole.

"You got quite a minnie," he smiled as the fish again leaped clear of the water.

"I'll say he is," Jack puffed, turning the handle with all his strength.

"And it's a white, sure as guns," Captain Ole told him. "I don't as a rule like to see a thing killed just for the sake of killing, but when it comes to a white shark, the more of them you kill the better, I say. They're killers of the worst sort. One of them almost got me once, and I've had a grudge against them ever since. I'll tell you the story sometime."

Jack had been reeling in rapidly while the captain was talking, and now had nearly half the line in again. He could tell that the big fish was tiring rapidly, but it was not dead yet, and another rush again took out thirty or forty feet. But this was the last battle, and Jack had the fish up to within twenty feet of the boat when Mr. Lakewood reappeared with a rifle in his hands.

"You a good shot, Bob?" he asked.

"Nothing extra," Bob grinned.

"Well, have a try," Mr. Lakewood said, handing him the gun.

"Where's the best place to hit?" Bob asked as he took the rifle from his uncle's hand.

"When he turns, get him just above his mouth," Captain Ole advised.

The fish was now making but feeble struggles to escape and was turning, every minute or two so as to expose its huge mouth, and Bob could not repress a shudder as he caught sight of the rows of needle sharp teeth. Awaiting a favorable moment he fired and the big fish, with a last effort, threw itself from the water, and then fell back.

"You got him all right," Captain Ole assured him.

"But what'll we do with him?" Bob asked.

"Well, the only part of him that's really worth anything is the oil in his head," the captain replied slowly. Then, turning to the sailors, he said. "You boys want to pull him up and get the oil? You can have it if you do and maybe you'll get fifty dollars worth, maybe more."

"You bet," was the immediate and unanimous response.

"All right, then. You'll have to rig a tackle up forward where the mess can be cleaned up easily."

The tackle was soon arranged, and the captain ordered the boat stopped long enough to allow the men to pull the huge fish from the water.

"He sure is some minnie, as Cap't Ole said," Bob grinned as the shark came over the side and, a moment later was stretched out on the forward deck.

"Twenty-six feet and three inches," Captain Ole announced a few minutes after he had measured the fish. "You'd have lost that bet, Josh," he added turning to the second mate who was watching him closely.

"He's bigger nor I thought," he acknowledged.

"I'll bet that fellow hates his own shadow," Jack whispered to Bob as they leaned against the rail watching the sailors as they cut a hole in the shark's head, the exact spot being indicated by Captain Ole.

"He sure does nurse a mean grouch," Bob agreed.

About two quarts of a clear light yellow oil was dipped from the cavity in the shark's head and then the carcass was thrown overboard.

"What's that oil good for?" Jack asked Captain Ole.

"They use it to oil watches and fine clocks," the captain told him. "You see it's an oil that won't gum."

CHAPTER V.

SUSPICIONS.

"Land, ho!"

It was several days after the catching of the shark, and the boys were eating breakfast alone when they heard the call. Leaving their unfinished meal they rushed out of the cabin and hurried to the bridge, where they found their uncle and Captain Ole, the former gazing through a large pair of field glasses.

"Is it it?" Bob asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure but, unless I'm off my reckoning, it ought to be," his uncle smiled as he handed the glass to the captain.

During the past three days they had sighted several islands, most of them small, but one or two of considerable size. Early in the voyage Mr. Lakewood had explained that his plan was to proceed to the island which he had reached in the open boat so many years before, and which, he told them, was the most northerly of the group called The Marquesas Islands, and which were owned by the French. This Island was of considerable size, and being a coaling station, he was sure that they would be able to lay in a fresh supply of fuel oil. From there they would set out on the search for the Island of Pearls, as they had come to call it, and which, he was quite sure, was not shown on any map.

"That's the island," Mr. Lakewood assured them a few minutes later. "I remember those two low hills which you can see just a little way in from the shore."

"Looks as though we were expected," Jack declared. "Look at the crowd down there by the wharf."

"It's quite an event for a boat to come in," his uncle told him.

"You're sure they're peaceful?" Bob asked a bit anxiously, as the boat came near enough for him to see the dark skins and scanty attire of the natives.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Mr. Lakewood asked in a tone of surprise.

"No," Bob told him. "I'm not afraid only, you know, I always had an idea that I'd make pretty good soup and——"

"Don't let him razz you, Uncle," Jack interrupted. "When you see Bob afraid you can know there's something to be afraid of."

By this time the boat was only a few yards away from the long flimsy looking pier, which reached out some fifty feet into the sea and Pat rang to reverse, and a moment later, her side brushed the end of the structure and a half dozen, all but naked, natives eagerly caught the line thrown them by one of the deck hands. Scarcely was the boat tied up, when a short pompous appearing man, clad in a somewhat soiled suit of white duck, pushed his way through the crowd.

"Welcome," he shouted as soon as he had reached the edge of the wharf.

"Thanks," Mr. Lakewood smiled as he stepped ashore and grasped the man's outstretched hand.

From the deference paid him by the natives, the boys judged that the white clad man must be the head man of the island or, at least, someone high in authority. A moment later their uncle introduced them, and, somewhat to their surprise, they learned that Mr. Umgubsolongas spoke almost perfect English with only the faintest trace of a soft slightly slurring accent.

"I am very much pleased to have the honor of welcoming you to my poor island," he told them as he took each by the hand, "and all that I have is yours."

The boys eagerly assured him that the pleasure was mutual, and their uncle invited him aboard, an invitation which he readily accepted, and, after they had shown him over the boat, they sat down to a meal which Mr. Lakewood had cautioned Wong to make particularly good. Their guest proved an excellent conversationalist and, before the meal was finished, the boys knew more about the lives and habits of the people of the South Sea Islands than they could have gotten from books in a long time.

"You must be my guests for the evening meal," Mr. Umgubsolongas told them when, finally, they pushed back their chairs. "Of course," he added, "I cannot hope to equal your most splendid hospitality but I hope to offer you a dish or two which will, at least, be new to you."

For an hour they chatted beneath an awning of the forward deck and then their guest took his departure, after promising to call for them at six o'clock.

"And you must bring your captain with you," was his parting word.

"Afraid he'll eat you, Bob?" Mr. Lakewood chuckled as the native disappeared amid the crowd which still thronged the pier.

"He seems fine, all right, but you never can tell," Bob replied with a smile.

"He's a prince," Jack declared.

"King, rather," his uncle corrected him.

"But I thought this island belonged to the French."

"So it does, but they all have a king just the same."

"But who would have thought of finding so well educated a man on one of these islands," Bob said.

"Most of their head men are more or less educated," his uncle told him. "I imagine you'll find that fellow has been to school and maybe to college in England or France."

"How long are you going to stay here?" Jack asked.

"Not more than a couple of days, I reckon."

"Did you ask him if we could get oil?" Bob asked.

"No, but I will tonight. I'm pretty certain we can."

"Suppose we can't?" Jack asked.

"Then we'll have to load on some coal. We can burn coal as well as oil, you know. By the way, if you want to see some real swimming and diving go over to the rail and throw a dime in the water."

There were perhaps twenty boys, naked save for a loin cloth, sitting on the edge of the wharf as the two boys reached the railing at a point some ten feet away from the side of the pier.

"Some of them look almost white," Jack whispered as they gazed at them.

"But their oval faces, wide nostrils and large ears stamp them as Polynesians all right," Bob whispered back.

"But some of them are not bad looking at that."

"I'll say they aren't. Look at that fellow the third from the end. Dress him up in evening clothes and he'd pass for a gentleman anywhere."

As he spoke Bob took a bright new quarter from his pocket, and held it up. Instantly the native boys sprang to their feet, their sharp eyes fixed on the coin. With a smile Bob threw the money some twenty feet out from the side of the boat and, although he did not throw it very high, Jack afterward declared, that every mother's son of them was in the water before the coin had disappeared. The race to the spot where the coin had disappeared was a matter of a moment only, and then the entire crowd disappeared. One by one the curly heads reappeared and soon one held up his hand and showed the coin.

"Good boy," Bob shouted as he threw a dime into their midst.

This time they remained below the surface longer than before, and the boys were beginning to wonder if they were ever coming up, when the boy, Bob had pointed out to Jack, shot out of the water and held up the coin. Followed more coins and for the better part of an hour the boys amused themselves watching them dive.

"I'll be bankrupt if we keep this up much longer," Jack finally said.

"I'll let them have this last dime," Bob replied as he threw the coin.

"They sure are at home in the water," Jack said as they turned away from the rail.

"Well, I reckon they about live in it."

"No doubt."

"Did you get a run for your money?" Mr. Lakewood smiled as they rejoined him.

"Sure did, and the other fellows had a dive for it," Jack laughed.

"They're probably the best swimmers and divers in the world," Mr. Lakewood told them.

"But I'd like to see Jack try one of them on a long swim," Bob said.

"He'd be licked before they started. Those boys think nothing of swimming ten miles or more."

"Don't the sharks ever get them?" Jack asked.

"Not often. You see, they very seldom come in so close as this and when they swim outside they carry a knife in a belt and if a shark attacks them he usually gets the worse of the argument."

It was exactly six o'clock when they saw a Ford touring car drive down the beach to the wharf, and their newly made friend stepped out and came toward the boat. They met him before he had reached the end of the wharf and he once more shook hands with them all, including Captain Ole who somewhat against his wishes, had been persuaded to accompany them.

"I deeply regret that I have not a more luxurious car to offer you," the native apologized as he led the way.

"They get you there and bring you back," Mr. Lakewood smiled.

The home of the king of the island proved to be a large affair when compared with the others of the village. Built almost entirely of bamboo it contained several rooms, including a large comfortably furnished living room, as well as a commodious dining room. The meal was very good, consisting of many courses, several of which were entirely new to the boys. But they liked them all, and afterward agreed that they had never eaten a better dinner. At eleven o'clock they were driven back to the boat more pleased than ever with their host.

"He says we can get all the oil we want," Mr. Lakewood told them, as they parted for the night shortly before twelve o'clock. "We'll spend tomorrow getting stocked up and be off early the next morning."

Filling the oil tanks took the best part of the next day, as the oil was brought out to the boat in buckets by the natives. After watching them for some time in the morning, the boys decided they would take a walk about the village and, after being cautioned against getting into trouble by their uncle, they started off shortly before ten o'clock. There was much to interest them in the quaint settlement, and the time passed so rapidly that they were surprised when Bob's watch told them that it was high noon.

"We'll be late to dinner," Bob said. "Wonder how far we are from the wharf."

"Can't be more'n a half mile, I reckon."

"Well, come on, we'll have to hustle to get back on time and you know how much Wong likes to have us late for a meal."

"About as much as I like castor oil," Jack laughed as they turned down a side street thinking to take a short cut back.

"Sure this is the way?" Bob asked a moment later.

"I'm pretty sure of the general direction. We can't miss it very much I reckon," Jack replied.

They had walked rapidly for several minutes, turning a number of corners and had just come in sight of the ocean, when Bob suddenly caught hold of Jack's arm.

"What's up?" Jack asked.

"S-s-s-s-s-h," Bob whispered. "Follow me quietly, and don't speak."

Mystified at his brother's action but never doubting, but that he had a good reason for it, Jack fell in behind and followed close at his heels. About a hundred feet in front of them was a large low building, constructed of bamboo with a thatched roof and as they reached the corner on which it stood, Bob paused and held up his hand. Jack stopped and wondered what was going to happen next. Bob pressed his body close to the side of the building and Jack did the same. In a moment he heard a voice which he recognized and the meaning of Bob's move was partly solved.

"You understand?"

It was Josh Kelley speaking.

"I get you all right, but are you sure you have the right dope?"

The reply was in a voice strange to Jack and he strained his ears to catch Josh's next words.

"Oh, I've got the dope all right. If you do as I say, everything will go off all right."

"I'll play my part all right, don't you fret yourself about that."

"Sure you understand?"

"Sure's shooting."

"Then I'll have to hurry back. See you later."

"So long."

That was the end of the conversation and, after waiting a few minutes they started again for the boat. Josh was not in sight as they stepped around the corner nor did they see anyone who, they thought, could have been his companion.

"That was Josh Kelley," Jack declared.

"Sure it was," Bob assured him. "I saw him come out of that shed there and turn the corner. That's why I stopped."

"Sure he didn't see us?"

"I wasn't at first, but if he had, I guess he wouldn't have been talking to that other fellow."

"Probably not."

"What do you make of it?"

"Search me."

"He's up to something."

"Looks that way."

"And it must be something shady."

"Shouldn't wonder. It seems funny he should know anyone here."

"Especially as he never mentioned it on the boat."

"The plot thickens," Jack quoted.

"And there's no knowing how thick it may be," Bob added.

By this time they had reached the end of the wharf and, for a moment, Bob stood looking at the boat.

"Think we ought to tell uncle?" he asked.

"I don't think, I know," Jack replied decisively. "It can't possibly do any harm, and it may save a lot of trouble."

"Just what I was thinking," Bob agreed as he stepped onto the pier.

There was no one in sight when they stepped on board, except a couple of the sailors, and the boys hurried to the dining salon where they found Wong clearing away the dishes from the table. There was no one else in the room.

"You tlink you gleet dinner now, you have velly well one more tlink coming," he greeted them.

"We're awful sorry, Wong," Bob began, but Wong interrupted.

"No use be solly now. Dinner velly well over."

"But, Wong, old man, we're starving," Jack gave him his most enticing smile.

"You no stlarve till supper."

"But we might, and then think how you'd feel," Bob too smiled.

"Wong no feel velly bad," he grinned.

"Now you know that's not true," Jack told him. "Come, just give us a little bite, that's a good fellow."

"No blite."

"But, Wong——"

"No blut. Dinner velly well over," and he started out of the room with the last of the dishes.

"Guess he means it," Jack whispered.

"'Fraid so," Bob replied.

But just as he reached the door he turned back.

"You slit down. Mebby gleet leetle blite," he grinned over his shoulder.

"I knew he was fooling," Jack sighed as he sat down.

"Yes, I did not," Jack grinned.

"Wonder where uncle and Captain Ole are," Bob said a moment later.

"Guess they're not very far off."

"They can't have been through dinner very long."

"We'll hunt them up as soon as we get something to eat. It wouldn't do to leave the room now."

"I'll say it wouldn't."

Just then Wong returned bearing a large tray filled with dishes piping hot.

"Wong, you old fraud, you saved our dinner for us," Bob said as he sat the tray down.

"Mellican boy no deserve it," he grinned placing the food on the table before them.

"I'll say we don't," Jack agreed. "But you're one good scout."

"You no velly bad boys," Wong conceded.

Just as they were finishing Mr. Lakewood entered the room.

"So Wong saved you something after all," he smiled.

"I'll say he did," Jack told him.

"He declared by all his gods that he wouldn't."

"And he really convinced us that he hadn't," Bob told him.

"I thought all the time he would. What did you think of the town?"

"Good what there is of it and plenty of it as 'tis," Jack replied.

"We couldn't find an ice cream store, that's what's the trouble with him," Bob laughed.

"Well, you said yourself that you wouldn't want to spend the rest of your life here," Jack retorted.

"By the way, we had a bit of an adventure," Bob said and proceeded to tell his uncle what they had overheard.

"You're sure it was Josh?" he asked when he had finished.

"There's no doubt about that," Bob assured him.

"Then it looks bad."

"What do you think he's up to?" Jack asked.

"Haven't an idea."

"But you think he's up to something shady?" Bob asked.

"It looks that way to me. By the way, are you sure he wasn't talking to one of the crew?"

"Pretty sure," Bob told him. "Of course we didn't see the fellow but his voice was strange to me."

"And to me too," Jack added.

"I've never trusted the fellow, though I couldn't say why," Mr. Lakewood mused.

"What'll you do?" Jack asked.

"Nothing."

"But——"

"Think a minute and you'll see that we haven't enough to go on. If we accused him of crooked work he'd deny it, of course, and he could easily make up a plausible story to explain it."

"I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am. No, the only thing to do is to keep a close eye on him. I'll tell Ole and put him on his guard. After all, you know, it may not be anything that concerns us."

"But you think it is?" Bob asked

"I almost know it is."

"But not quite, eh?" Jack grinned

"Exactly. Now, don't let Josh know you suspect him," he cautioned them as he rose and led the way out on deck.

The natives had resumed their work of filling the oil tanks, but by three o'clock the task was completed and Mr. Lakewood announced that he and the captain had decided to put to sea at once and not wait until morning. "Kind of too bad not to say goodbye to the king," he added. "But we told him we might leave this afternoon and he said he'd try to come down."

"And there he is now," Jack announced pointing to the shore.

The old Ford ran down dose to the end of the wharf and then stopped with a suddenness which nearly threw the driver through the windshield. Jumping out of the car the king ran down to the boat and leaped aboard.

"I was afraid you might be gone before I could get here," he gasped as he held out his hands for them to grasp.

Followed an hour of pleasant conversation during which the king urged them to remain longer as his guests but, finding that they were determined to leave, he finally bade them goodbye about four o'clock and, insisting that they make him another visit sometime, he cranked up the Ford and disappeared up the street in a cloud of dust.

"Gee, but he did his best, short of asking outright, to find out where we're going," Jack declared as they turned back to the boat.

"I'll say he did," Bob agreed, "but I reckon it was nothing but curiosity."

"Which same killed the cat, you know," Jack reminded him.

"Look here, son, don't you go getting suspicious of everybody. Pretty soon you'll be watching me," Bob grinned.

"Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea at that."

An hour later they pulled out and, after running south until the island was out of sight, swung in a wide circle until they were headed north.

"Just as well not to let them know which way we're going," Mr. Lakewood explained as he stood with the boys on the bridge.

"Does the second mate know what we're after?" Jack asked.

"Not unless he's overheard something," his uncle told him. "We three and Captain Ole are the only ones in the secret so far as I know. But he may be wise at that."

"How far away do you think that island is?" Bob asked.

"I haven't much idea. When I took that trip I wasn't in a condition to notice much of anything especially during the last part of it, and I may have come a hundred miles and then again it may been nearer five hundred. We're simply to hunt until we find it. I know it's around here somewhere, and I reckon we'll strike it sooner or later."

"But aren't we likely to pass it in the night?" Jack asked.

"We're going to anchor as soon as it is dark, provided it's not too deep and if it is we'll just drift."

CHAPTER VI.

CAPTURED BY SAVAGES.

"She's all out and still banging."

It was after supper and then the sun had sunk, a huge red ball of fire, below the western horizon. Captain Ole made the announcement as the boys and their uncle, together with three or four of the sailors, stood watching the big chain run out.

"Then I reckon we'll have to let her drift," Mr. Lakewood said as the captain gave the signal to raise the anchor. "I don't really think that we're anywhere near the place yet," he whispered to Bob, who was standing close at his side, "but we don't want to take any chances. There's so little wind that we won't go far."

"Well, guess we might's well go in and send a picture to the folks at home," Jack said as the anchor appeared.

Every night they had turned on the machine for a few minutes but, to their great disappointment, they had failed to receive any results from far away Maine.

"Not time for more'n an hour yet," Bob said looking at his watch.

Some time in the night Jack awoke. This was such an unusual occurrence that for some moments he lay awake and wondered what had disturbed him. He could not hear a sound save the gentle lap of the water against the side of the boat and the regular breathing of his brother. And yet he knew that something was wrong. He reached beneath his pillow and brought out his tiny flashlight and a glance at his watch told him than it was twenty-five minutes past one.

"Guess I'm getting the heebie-jeebies," he thought as he slipped from his bunk and, in his bare feet, stole toward the door.

He opened it without making the slightest sound and stepped outside. It was a beautiful night and, although there was no moon, the stars, which thickly studded the sky, rendered it far from dark. For a full three minutes he stood there, close to the door of his cabin, and listened. Was Bob right, he wondered, when he told him he was getting too suspicious? Finally, hearing no sound which could, in any way, be construed as being mysterious, he decided to make a tour of the boat before going back to bed.

"Reckon I'm an idiot all right, but I'm going to take a look about, just the same," he muttered, as he started slowly toward the stern.

The night was so warm that he was perfectly comfortable in his light pajamas, and the floor felt delightfully cool to his bare feet. Not a sound did he make as he stole along, keeping close to the side of the cabins where it was darker than over by the railing. Suddenly a slight sound reached his ears, and he stopped. Had he really heard anything, or were his suspicions getting the better of his judgment? The sound was not repeated, and he was about to move on again, when a spot of light, from far out across the water, caught his eye. It glimmered an instant, and then disappeared, to reappear a moment later in a series of flashes. Was it a signal? It seemed hardly possible, but it certainly looked very much like it.

He crept on, until he reached the end of the cabins, and was but a few feet from the stern of the boat. Cautiously he peeped around the corner, and his heart gave an extra beat, as he saw a figure standing only a matter of six or seven feet from him. It was too dark for him to distinguish the man's features, even had his face been turned toward him, but the tall lanky figure left no doubt in his mind as to his identity. It was Josh Kelley, and he was up to something, for he raised his right hand, and a flash of light sprang out.

"It was a signal all right," he thought, as he shrank back, fearful lest the man see him.

What should he do? He knew now that his suspicions, as well as those of his uncle, were confirmed. The second mate was in league with someone, and was signaling to him, or to them. But what was the object? Did he know of their quest? These and many more questions flashed through his mind as he stood there, watching that twinkling light, which came and went in answer to the mate's signal. At first he thought they might be signaling in the Morse code, and tried to read the flashes, but he could make nothing of them. If they were using a code, it was not one with which he was familiar, that was certain.

He had made up him mind to wake his uncle, and had taken a couple of backward steps, when the light from a powerful flash struck him full in the face.

"Wot's the idea?"

It was evident that the mate was mad, and for an instant the boy was too startled to reply.

"I—I reckon I might ask you the same question," he finally stammered.

"Wot yer mean?"

"Who are you signaling to?"

"Who said I was signaling?"

"I saw you."

Almost instantly the mate's expression changed and the look of anger, which had been plain even in the dim light, was replaced by an uneasy smile.

"Oh, yer mean that flashlight?"

"Sure."

"Wal, I guess mebby I was signalin' kind of. That is yer might call it that, but, bless yer heart, I dunno who it was I was signalin' to."

"But he answered you," Jack insisted.

"You saw him?"

"Sure."

"Wal, yer know jest as much as I do who it was. Yer see, it's like this. It's my watch an' I was looking out back here when I saw that flash out there. Three or four times I saw it an' then, seein' as how I had this thing with me, I thot as how I'd jest answer it an' I did. That's all I know about it."

"I see."

Jack knew that the man was lying, but he also knew that, at present, he was powerless to prove it.

"Wot yer doin' out here this time o' night?" the mate asked suddenly, the stern look coming back to his face.

"Oh, I woke up and, as it was pretty hot in the cabin, I though I'd get a little fresh air," Jack replied easily.

"Hum, then yer didn't hear nothin'?"

"Why, no, not till I got out here and heard you."

"Hum."

"Who do you suppose it is out there?" Jack asked as the light flashed again.

"Bless yer, how should I know?"

"Let me take the light a minute."

"Wot fur?"

"I want to answer him."

"Fur wot?"

"Just for fun."

"All right."

He handed over the light and Jack flashed the message in Morse, "W-H-O A-R-E Y-O-U?" But there was no answering flashes and, after waiting a few minutes, the mate asked:

"Did yer send a message?"

"Asked them who they were, but I guess they don't know either," Jack told him.

"Mebby they don't understand that code."

"Maybe not."

"I reckon that's it. Probably it's jest some fishermen becalmed out there."

"You may be right."

"Sure I am."

"Well, I guess I'll be getting back to bed," Jack said with a deep yawn.

The mate made no reply, and he walked slowly back to his cabin conscious that the man was watching his every move. He felt that he ought to tell his uncle what he had seen without delay, but he knew that unless he went at once to his own cabin the mate would know what he was going to do. So, as he reached his door, he pushed it quickly open and, without glancing behind him, went in. Bob was still sleeping and he got into bed again without waking him. But, for a long time, he could not sleep. Not that he thought there was any immediate danger. Whoever it was that the mate was in league with, they would hardly make an attack on them until they learned where they were going, and something in regard to their plans. That the man was a villain he felt sure, and he was in no less certain that he was a deep and crafty one. Finally he slept and the sun was streaming in at the window when he again awoke. Bob, he saw, was fully dressed.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"After seven."

"We under way?"

"Sure. You didn't think we'd stay drifting around all day, did you?"

"Huh, I suppose you've been up several hours."

"Not so many," Bob laughed. "But hurry or we'll be late to breakfast and our rating with Wong isn't very high just now, you know."

Jack was already dressing and by the time he had finished he had told Bob what he had seen in the night.

"What do you know about that?" Bob said, when he had concluded the account.

"Not much," Jack confessed.

"Of course he was lying."

"You think so?"

"I don't think, I know he was."

"He's a scamp all right."

"You really think so?"

"Oh, cut out the kidding and come along to breakfast. We must tell uncle as soon as possible."

They found their uncle in the dining room just finishing his breakfast and, as he was alone, they at once told him.

"It surely confirms our suspicions," Mr. Lakewood said when they had finished.

"But does it help any?" Bob asked.

"I can't really see that it does," his uncle confessed after a moment's thought.

"Was there any boat in sight when you got up?" Jack asked.

"Not a sign of one."

"Well, I wish he'd been a few minutes later when we started," Bob said. "Then we wouldn't have been bothered with him."

"But there's no use wishing," Jack declared. "We've got him and the only question is what are we going to do with him?"

"That's it, what are we going to do with him?" his uncle repeated.

"If we could only prove something against him," Bob mused.

"Perhaps we can later," Jack told him.

"But later may be too late."

"Well, there's no use hanging crepe all over the boat about it," Jack grinned. "I'm going to keep a close watch on him and, mark my word, I'll get him where the hair's short if he gives me half a chance."

"Sometimes chances have to be made," Mr. Lakewood said drily.

"And maybe I can do that too," Jack responded.

"Well, about the only thing I can do now is to tell Cap'n Ole about it and put him on his guard, although I think he's watching him pretty closely already," their uncle said, as he pushed back his chair and, followed by the boys, went out on deck.

"We're going to run nor'east for about fifty miles and then tack back nor'west and keep a-zig-zagging back and forth that way so as to cover a pretty big area," he explained as they paused for a moment at the foot of the stairway leading to the bridge.

"Seems to me that ought to hit it," Bob told him.

But all that day they sighted no land, and when darkness came they were again unable to anchor owing to the depth of the water. Mr. Lakewood had told the captain about Jack's adventure, and he had advised taking Pat Barney into their confidence and telling him where they were going and their object.

"Pat's true blue and, what's more, he's sharp. He has a good chance to keep an eye on the snake, and he'll do it if he knows he's up to something crooked."

So, at the first opportunity he had told Pat all about the trip, and had confided to him their suspicions in regard to the second mate.

"Faith an' it's meself as niver did loike the face uv him," Pat had declared.

It was Pat's watch on deck that night from twelve until six and he assured them that he would see that there was no signaling done while he was on the job. Unlike the previous night, the wind was blowing fairly hard from the west, although the night was clear and the captain told them that they would have to keep the engine going to avoid being blown back.

"But we won't make more'n two or three miles an hour, so I reckon we won't pass anything," he assured them.

The night passed without incident, and when the boys went on deck shortly after six o'clock the captain told them that they had not made more than a dozen knots during the night. The wind still held strong from the west and there was enough of a sea to make the Valkyrie "kick up her heels," as Jack put it.

They were eating dinner when they heard the lookout shout "Land ho" and there was a scramble to see who would reach the deck first. Jack won and, as he burst out from the room, he heard the mate cry:

"Off the port bow, sir."

He could see nothing from the deck and hurried to the bridge closely followed by the others.

"Right off there," the second mate told him pointing.

"I see it now," he replied turning to Bob who had reached his side.

"Looks pretty small from here," Bob said as he stepped into the wheel-house for the glasses.

He was out again in a minute with the glasses in his hand and handed them to his uncle, who by this time, had also reached the bridge. Mr. Lakewood gazed for a long time before he took the glass from his eyes.

"It's too far away to be sure but I hardly think it's the place," he said as he handed them to Bob.

The remainder of the breakfast was forgotten as they watched the land as it seemed to rise higher and higher from the water and pretty soon Wong appeared at the foot of the stairway.

"You goin' catch um some bleakfast?" he shouted.

"How about it, boys?" Mr. Lakewood laughed.

"I had enough," both replied in the same breath.

"Then you can clear away, Wong," he told him.

"All light," and Wong shuffled away a look of keen disgust on his yellow face.

"Wong's slighted now," Captain Ole laughed.

"And I don't blame him," Bob declared. "But I just can't leave the bridge now."

At the end of another hour Mr. Lakewood was able to say that he was almost certain that it was not the island.

"Of course," he added, "I may be mistaken, but I don't think so. It's too large in the first place and then again it's too low at the near end."

"Suppose we land anyway," Captain Ole suggested. "I think I can see a grove of trees not far inland and perhaps we can get some cocoanuts."

"Sure we'll land," Mr. Lakewood agreed. "Do you know," he added with a smile, "it was several years after I got away from that island before I could bear the sight of a cocoanut, but that's gone now and I really like them again."

"Then we'll sure get you some," Jack laughed.

"No, that's not the place," Mr. Lakewood declared definitely a little later, as the island now loomed up large before them. "Think it's inhabited, Cap'n?" he asked turning to Captain Ole.

"Don't see any signs of anything that looks like it on this side, but you never can tell about these places. Some of the tribes on these islands don't go in much for architecture and a cocoanut tree will hide a whole lot of 'em."

As the captain had said, there was no sign that the island was inhabited. The low lying beach stretched back, with only a gentle rise, for a distance of some hundred yards, where it met a long line of trees which, the captain assured them, were cocoanut trees. What was beyond they could not see. A few minutes later and the Valkyrie swung at anchor at the mouth of a narrow cove where the water was only about twenty feet deep.

"See that the second mate goes ashore with us," Mr. Lakewood whispered to Captain Ole, as the latter was about to give the order to lower one of the small boats.

Leaving the boat in charge of the first mate, the two boys together with their uncle, Captain Ole, and Josh Kelley and two of the sailors, were soon standing on the beach.

"Bring those two baskets along," the captain ordered the sailors, as he led the way toward the grove of trees.

"Look at the nuts, will you?" Jack shouted as they stood beneath the trees. "I reckon it won't take us long to fill the baskets. Wait a minute and I'll climb up and shake some down."

He was up one of the largest of the trees almost before he had finished speaking, and soon the big nuts began to fall, and in less than fifteen minutes they had filled the baskets.

"We should have brought more baskets," Jack declared regretfully.

"Those two were all we had," the mate told him.

"You two," the captain said turning to the two sailors, "take these nuts to the ship, and then bring the baskets back. We'll help you carry them down to the beach."

"Let's see how far this grove goes," Bob said a moment later after he had jumped to the ground.

"Atta boy," Jack agreed.

"You look out you don't get lost," their uncle warned them.

"We won't. We'll be back by the time they get back with the baskets," Bob assured him.

The cocoanut trees came to an end before they had gone a hundred feet and they found themselves on the edge of a narrow ravine on the other side of which the land was too high for them to see beyond.

"Let's go up to the top of that hill and see what we can see from there," Jack suggested.

"Think we'll have time?"

"Sure. They won't be back for a half hour at least."

"All right, but make it snappy."