Part 11 (1/2)

”Brig ahoy! ahoy!”

Bob actually looked alarmed. He had believed the key to be uninhabited, and, knowing there was no craft in sight when they came below, all his superst.i.tious fears were aroused by the cry. Just for an instant he hesitated, as if not daring to go on deck, and then ran up the companion-ladder, closely followed by the remainder of the party.

Surely there was nothing in that which met their gaze to cause alarm. On the sh.o.r.e stood three men, and when the old sailor made his appearance one of them repeated the hail.

”Ahoy on sh.o.r.e,” he replied.

”Send a boat, will you? Our craft went away leaving us here, and we've been cooped up on this island nearly a week.”

”It won't do much good for us to take you aboard. We're hard and fast aground.”

”Somethin' to eat is what we're wantin' pretty bad,” the man on sh.o.r.e cried; and Bob said, as he turned to Joe:

”I reckon we oughter go after 'em; but somehow I don't jes' believe his yarn.”

”Why not?”

”'Cause there's no reason why an honest vessel would stop here long enough for her crew to go ash.o.r.e; an' then, agin, they haven't got a sailor cut about 'em.”

Having thus given words to his suspicions, Bob set about lowering the Trade Wind's yawl with as much alacrity as if some one in sore distress stood in need of their services, and five minutes later he and Joe were rowing ash.o.r.e.

The strangers stepped into the boat the instant her bow grated on the sand with the air of persons who are conferring rather than receiving a favor, and making no attempt to push the craft into deep water.

”It's a sailor's rule for the last aboard to shove off,” Bob said with just a shade of anger in his tone, and the man in the bow leaped ash.o.r.e to perform that duty, after which the yawl was pulled toward the brig.

The three boys were standing at the rail forward watching all which occurred, but saying nothing until the boat was near enough to admit of their seeing the strangers clearly. Then Jim whispered:

”That's what I call a mighty hard-lookin' crowd, an' I don't wonder Bob says they haven't got the sailor cut. I wouldn't like to meet either one of 'em alone in the dark.”

Two of the three strangers appeared to be Americans, but of a disagreeable type, while the third was unmistakably a Mexican; and it was this last upon whom Jim looked with the most suspicion.

There was no further opportunity for him to criticise them, however, since the boat was rapidly approaching the brig, and Bob had already shouted:

”Heave that gangway-ladder over, an' then set about gettin' up another breakfast.”

The first order was quickly obeyed, and Jim went into the galley to comply with the second as the new-comers stepped on board and halted near the mainmast to gaze curiously around, as if taking a mental inventory of the brig's general condition.

CHAPTER XI.

THE STRANGERS.

The new-comers were by no means pre-possessing in appearance, and would hardly have inspired confidence even had their manners been more agreeable.

He who acted as spokesman for the party was a stout man with a very long body and short, bowed legs, that caused him to roll to and fro like a s.h.i.+p in a gale when he walked. It was his nose which attracted the most attention, for it was not only the most prominent feature of a not remarkably pleasing-looking countenance, but so enlarged and red at the end that one could well fancy he had fastened a boiled beet to his face as a partial disguise.

The other American was exactly the reverse in form and feature. He was tall and thin, with a sickly yellow complexion and a little snub nose which looked as if made of putty for a much smaller face--one that might have been bought at auction because it was cheap, if noses could ever be sold.

The Mexican would answer for a type of that cla.s.s known as ”greasers,”