"We need one of you," explained Manuel, with startling frankness. "Perhaps we could get along without but it does not pay to take chances. There is a government cutter which patrols the banks to see that the sponging vessels are complying with the laws. She may come upon us accidentally any time and it would be awkward explaining why we continued to work without American officers. It would very likely get us into trouble. But if one of you takes the part of the captain and shows the papers and explains that the rest have died from fever, all will go smoothly."

"I suppose you have decided which one of us you want?" Charley asked, curiously.

"Any one of you will do, but we prefer you. You have brains enough to realize where your own interests lie. It is easier to handle a smart man than a fool. Consider the chance we are giving you, on the one hand slow, painful, certain death; on the other, an honored position, great wealth and safety—we are generous indeed."

"But how do you know that I will play fair?"

"The moment you joined us you would be as liable to the law as the rest of us," Manuel said calmly, "We would live or hang together. You would not dare to trifle with us, and I should watch you closely all the time."

"Here is my answer," declared Charley, whose indignation had been steadily rising at the cold-blooded proposal. "If you would all keep your part of the agreement,—which I am convinced you would not do, I'd die rather than join such a pack of dirty murderers."

"You are a bigger fool than I thought," replied the Greek calmly. "I will leave you to consider the matter better. Hunger is a great persuader, and I am in hopes that you will soon see where your best interests lie. Good-night, gentlemen, good-night, may your dreams be of the pleasantest."

"He's evidently somewhat worried," said Charley, hopefully, when the Greek's mocking voice had ceased. "He believes, I guess, that there is a good chance of the cutter coming upon him or he would not make such a proposal, although he would not keep his part of it any longer than the danger lasted. Our only hope is to keep up our strength and spirits as long as possible. There is a chance that the cutter may come along before it is too late. Better all turn in and get some rest while you are still not too hungry to sleep. I will call one of you to take my place as soon as my four hours are up, although I do not believe that they will trouble us."

The lad was right in his belief. The night passed away without any alarm and they were able by turns to get some little sleep. With the coming of daylight, they crowded to the windows and searched the dreary waste of waters for sign of smoke or sail, but found none. The crew were going about their work in cheerful unconcern. Leaving a half dozen men on the schooner, the balance got aboard the diving boat and sailed out to the sponge ground where they could be seen working steadily all day bringing up the gold from the bottom. The prisoners suffered much during the long day from their increasing hunger and thirst.

At night the diving boat returned to the schooner and the dispirited watchers could see that the crew had not wasted their day by any means. Both sponge baskets were nearly full of the gold coins.

"We've got to do something, I don't care how desperate it is," declared Captain Westfield. "Anything is better than this keeping still and suffering. By to-morrow this time we'll be too weak to do much and thar ain't no certainty that the cutter will come along this way at all. I'm in for doing something, no matter what."

Charley turned from his gazing out of the window, "Look here, Captain," he called, softly. "Speak low," he cautioned as the old sailor crept to his side, "we don't want them to hear us on deck."

"Geewhilikens!" whispered the old seaman in swift comprehension, "they've left the diving boat fastened right under our windows."

"God grant that they may not think to move it," the lad replied, trembling with excitement. "We can do nothing until it gets dark and they retire to the forecastle."

Walter and Chris were quickly made acquainted with the suddenly-offered chance of escape and their joy knew no bounds.

Then followed hours which seemed like days to the breathless, anxious watchers. The Greeks ate their supper and lounged around the deck talking and laughing. It seemed as though they would never retire to their bunks. But at last their voices gradually ceased and silence settled down upon the schooner. Charley cautiously opened one of the big windows and swung it outward, then climbing softly toward the opening, lowered himself to the diving boat's deck. The Captain, Walter, and Chris followed. Not a word was spoken for each realized the terrible risk they were running. As soon as all were crouched motionless aboard, Charley, with his knife, severed the rope which bound them to the schooner and the boat drifted slowly away from the ship's side.

No one moved until the schooner was at last lost in the darkness.

"Start up the engine," said Charley, as he took the helm, and Walter slipped down amongst the machinery. After a few minutes' fumbling in the darkness, he crept back.

"There's no gasoline in the tank," he announced.

"Everything seems against us," Charley sighed. "Well, get sail on her. We will have to do the best we can."

In a few minutes the great square sail was spread, and, leaning over, the little craft sent a line of foam rippling from her bow.

"They'll have hard work finding us in this darkness," exulted the captain as he took the helm from Charley. "I reckon, we'd better shape a course for the nearest port,—that's Judson. As soon as we get thar, we can telegraph to all the ports along the coast to watch out for the schooner. We've got 'em now, I reckon, lads, they'll have to put in somewhere sooner or later, an' they'll be nabbed. I feel just like yelling for joy."

The rising spirits of the little party were helped by Chris' discovery of a couple of loaves of stale black bread, and part of a bottle of ripe olives in one of the lockers. They made a meagre but very welcome repast upon the uninviting food.

But their joy over their lucky escape was soon dampened by the threatening appearance of the Western sky. A heavy bank of clouds was slowly rising there from which came flashes of lightning and the rumble of distant thunder.

"I reckon, it ain't nothin' but a thunder squall," the captain assured them. "Thar ain't no call to be uneasy, this is a mighty seaworthy little craft. I reckon, we could ride out a right smart gale in her if we had it to do."

Before they ran much further the captain gave the order to lower and reef the great sail. When hoisted again, it was only a tiny patch of canvas, as compared with its former size.

"Thar's only one thing for us to do when that squall strikes us an' that's to scud before it," the old captain declared. "We can't heave her to under that sail. Luckily, the way it's coming won't blow us out of our course much."

They had not long to wait for the storm to burst. The wind soon descended with a violence that threatened to bury the diving boat in the seas it brought with it. But the little craft had been built to stand just such weather, and, quickly gathering headway, she darted away before the gale. With the wind came the rain in great driving, blinding sheets. The boys hailed its appearance with joy. They spread out their jackets, bits of sail, and even their hats to catch the precious drops. In a short while they had secured enough to quench their intense thirst. This done, they gathered around the captain at the helm ready to render any assistance in their power. There was little they could do for the old sailor would trust no one but himself to steer in the heavy sea-way. As the hours passed by without showing any abatement of the storm, it became evident to his companions that he was growing anxious.

"I don't like the way it's hanging on," he declared. "We must be making at least twelve miles an hour and, at that rate, we will have the land close aboard before daylight. Crawl forward, Charley, an' keep a sharp look-out, the sky is clearing some an', I reckon, you can see a few hundred feet ahead."

The lad obediently worked his way up into the bow, and bracing himself against the anchor bitts, peered ahead into the darkness. He could make out nothing at first but the heavy foam-flecked, tossing water. He sat watching intently till, at last, Walter crawled forward to take his place. He had only got part way back to the stern when there came a cry from his chum,

"Hard down! hard down!"

With true seaman's quickness, the Captain jammed the long tiller over and the little craft, escaping broaching in the trough of the seas by a miracle, shot up into the wind—a second too late.

"Hang on for your lives!" the old sailor cried.

Black masses loomed out of the darkness to leeward. A great wave picked up the helpless boat and flung it with crashing, breaking timbers, upon the rocks.