Mr. Jenkins’ predictions regarding the time necessary to bring the castaways on board, and the weather, were verified.

Not until nearly sunset did the little tender make the last trip to the key, and by that time the calm was “raging.” There was not air enough stirring to lift the thread of blue at the truck, and the atmosphere had suddenly grown so hot as to be almost stifling.

If Captain Mansfield had reason to distrust those whom he was trying to aid, during the first interview, he had good proof of their evil natures before the wind sprang up again.

All the castaways were under the influence of liquor to a greater or less degree, and those who came latest must have contrived to bring an additional supply to their companions.

Andy had prepared a substantial meal, which was served on deck, and, instead of being grateful for the same, there was more grumbling than might have been expected from sailors whose only food for many days had been “salt horse.”

The bushy-whiskered fellow, who acted as the leader of the party was particularly aggressive, and, when Andy had set out a well-cooked, generous amount of corned beef, potatoes and cabbage—such a spread as they would not have received anywhere, save on a pleasure yacht—he asked, in a surly tone:

“Is this the kind of stuff you’re willin’ to put afore shipwrecked men?”

“It’s de same as our own crew gets, an’ I ’lows as how you’se kin make out ef yer berry hungry,” the cook replied, angrily, turning to re-enter the galley.

“Don’t answer me back, you black villain, or I’ll break every bone in your body!” and the man sprang to his feet with a show of rage.

“I’se gwine ter say wha’ I wants ter,” Andy replied, angrily. “I’se de cook ob dis yere craft, an’ ef yer spectin’ ter git grub, dere ain’ no call fur yippin’.”

“Hold your tongue!” the fellow cried, seizing his tin plate of food and hurling it at the old darkey’s head.

Andy dodged the missiles, which, striking the companionway, were scattered over the clean deck, and the infuriated man ran toward him with the evident purpose of inflicting bodily injury.

It so chanced that Captain Mansfield came from the cabin at the same instant the plate was thrown, and, before anything more could be done, he shouted:

“Hold on there! What is the meaning of all this?”

The words were sufficient to cause the man to halt suddenly, and, turning around, he replied, in a sullen, insolent tone:

“I don’t reckon on taking lip from any nigger, no matter who he is.”

The cook was still standing in the companionway, and going forward quickly, the captain asked him what had been said.

The sailor would have given his version of the affair, attempting to prevent the old darky from speaking; but Captain Mansfield said, sternly:

“Hold your tongue, unless you want to be set ashore again, and I’m not certain I should take the trouble of using the boat.”

Andy gave a truthful account of all that had occurred, and concluded by saying, as he pointed to the food on the deck:

“Dere it be, capt’in, de same as I send to de cabin.”

By this time all the alleged shipwrecked men had laid aside their plates to gather around the leader, standing very near the captain in threatening attitudes, and, attracted by the noise, Mr. Jenkins came on deck.

Captain Mansfield looked squarely in the fellow’s face fully half-a-minute before he said:

“There is your supper. You will get no more to-night, and you are either to eat or throw it overboard. In addition, you will clean the deck at once.”

The man stood in an attitude of defiance, glancing now and then at his companions, but making no move toward obeying the orders; and Gil’s father, turning to the mate, said:

“Mr. Jenkins, if my instructions have not been carried out properly at the end of five minutes, throw this man overboard. Call all hands, including the boys, if you need assistance.”

Then the captain walked aft again, and the castaways began whispering among themselves as if trying to decide whether it would be safe to defy him.

Gil and Nelse stood near the wheel, where they could hear and see everything. Both wanted to go forward, but the former’s father checked them by saying, in a low tone:

“Remain where you are, unless Mr. Jenkins should call; in which case, you are to obey his orders implicitly.”

The mate was evidently making ready to carry out his instructions. All the men, save the man who had thrown the food, were sent back to the main hatch, and the young sailor was looking at his watch in an ominous manner.

The castaway muttered something which the boys could not understand; made a series of gestures to his companions, but, without receiving any reply, and then in a sulky manner began throwing the food overboard.

“Bring a swab here,” Mr. Jenkins called to one of the crew, and the shipwrecked man used it vigorously until the stains had been removed from the white planks.

“Now, where am I to get my supper?” the fellow asked, sullenly.

“We don’t serve two meals at the same time on board this craft, and, in case you want to be carried to Nassau, I advise that you keep a civil tongue in your head, for the captain is no fresh-water sailor, to allow an old barnacle like you to back him down.”

Then the mate walked aft, and the rescued party began to discuss the situation in whispers.

“That’s a fine crowd to ask honest sailors for assistance,” Mr. Jenkins said, in a low tone, when he stood by Captain Mansfield’s side. “If this calm lasts very long, we are bound to have trouble with them.”

“Keep your weather eye lifting, and they can’t do much mischief. They are all a little the worse for liquor now, but when that wears off things will straighten out.”

“It would be serving the whole boiling lot right to set ’em ashore.”

“That would be inhuman, and, besides, neither you nor I care to say that we’re afraid of a lot of sailors.”

“You would be warranted in trying to avoid trouble, more especially when there are so many aboard.”

“We won’t discuss the matter any further, Mr. Jenkins. Keep them well under your eye, and we’ll soon run down this bank.”

Both Gil and Nelse understood that the captain, as well as his mate, felt a trifle uneasy because of the strangers, who outnumbered the available force of the yacht more than two to one; but forcing them to return to the key was not to be thought of for a single moment, and it only remained for the officers to be on the alert.

Owing to the heat, and, possibly, because of the alleged shipwrecked mariners, the boys found it impossible to close their eyes in slumber at a very early hour on this particular night.

Before retiring, Nelse had proposed that they pay Andy a visit, but Gil objected on the score that it would only be to hear his croaking relative to the visit to Hayti, and, feeling decidedly disturbed in mind because of other reasons, time spent in the galley promised but little pleasure.

When the boys went below, the rescued party were stretched out amidships, more comfortable there than they would have been below, and, so far as could be judged by their respective positions, intent only on seeking repose.

Two hours later, after Gil and Nelse had tossed and turned in their bunks, unable to sleep because of the almost stifling heat, the latter said:

“Let’s go on deck. There’s no chance we shall close our eyes to-night if these mosquitoes continue so industrious, and we may as well be where it is possible to get the benefit of whatever air is stirring.”

“I’m ready to go, but we must move softly, in case father happens to be asleep.”

Because of this caution, the two gained the deck in nearly perfect silence, and the night was so dark that they could not be seen by those who might be on watch, save from a very short distance.

On the starboard side aft Mr. Jenkins was pacing to and fro, the sound of his footsteps alone disturbing the silence, and from the other side came a subdued murmur, which told that the strangers were yet engaged in conversation.

Without knowing exactly why he did so, Gil led his cousin forward until it was possible to distinguish what the rescued men were talking about, and then that which he heard was sufficient to attract his closest attention.

The bushy-whiskered fellow appeared to be the chief speaker, and he said, just as the boys drew near:

“There are only five, counting the skipper and mate. The cook and the cubs don’t amount to anything. This yacht is a clipper, and, with her, we could soon find a market for what has been left on the key.”

“Don’t you think we’ve done enough already?” a voice asked.

“Yes, if all hands have turned cowards. We shall not get any deeper in the mud by taking what has come to us, and, with a craft like this, everything is possible. I wouldn’t want a better berth than to sail such a schooner around the keys, stopping whenever we wanted two or three days ashore, and going wherever we took a fancy.”

“You know what that means,” the same voice said.

“Supposin’ I do, haven’t we done the same thing already? We can go ashore at Nassau, and then it may be a good many months before we dare take what we’ve earned. I’m for making the most of a good chance.”

“But how can it be fixed?”

“Come nearer an’ I’ll tell you; there’s no need of yelling when there are so many to hear.”

The doubter moved across the deck, and Gil pressed his companion’s arm in token that they should retire.

“There’s no need of listening to anything more,” Gil said, when they were so near the wheel that there was no danger the words would be overheard. “Those fellows are plotting mutiny, and it is necessary father should know it.”

“Why not speak with Mr. Jenkins?” Nelse whispered.

“Then we would be obliged to repeat the story twice. Come below!”

Nelse followed without further remonstrance, and a few moments later Captain Mansfield had learned sufficient to convince him that his guests were not the most honest people in the world.

“Are you certain no mistake has been made?” he asked, when Gil concluded the narrative.

“We heard everything very distinctly, and I am positive the words have been repeated correctly.”

“Call Mr. Jenkins, but do not let any one hear you,” and Captain Mansfield sprang from his berth as Gil went toward the companion-way.