Chapter 10 A RASH RESOLVE.

The boys watched Manuel closely throughout the entire afternoon, but they could detect nothing amiss in his manner or actions. He did his work willingly and cheerfully, humming a tune most of the time, apparently he was at peace with himself and the world.

They were not the only ones who watched the Greek closely. Whenever the lads glanced at the handsome sailor, they found him gazing intently at the suspected man, much as a cat watches a mouse, ready to spring at its slightest movement.

The boys kept well apart from the crew, watchful for any threatened outbreak on their part. But the men seemed so cheerful, willing and contented that they soon grew ashamed of their distrust.

Once the handsome sailor approached them respectfully, hat in hand, and, halting before them, spoke rapidly in a low voice. The lads shook their heads to show that they did not understand, and, with a look of helpless resignation on his face, the fellow returned to his work.

"I wish we could understand what he says," Charley said, wistfully. "He, evidently, has something important he wishes to tell us."

"We will be able to make out what he says before long," Walter said, cheerfully. "We are learning lots of new words every day."

"Yes, we are getting along pretty well," his chum agreed, "but we are not picking up the language near as well as Chris. It's really wonderful how fast he is learning."

The little negro and the Greek boy had become great friends and Chris, naturally quick witted, was learning with astonishing rapidity to talk to his new chum.

"It's the best day we've had yet," Charley declared as they returned to the schooner in the evening. "We have got as many sponges this afternoon as we have during any entire day."

Captain Westfield was elated over their success. "It's turned out all right after all," he said. "We've stumbled upon a mighty rich part of the banks, an' I reckon, we ain't lost the fleet either, as we feared, thar's some twenty sails coming up from the South'ard."

The vessels, which the boys had not noticed before, were approaching rapidly, coming before the stiff breeze. Before dark settled down, they were plainly visible but the eager watchers could not recognize any of them, they seemed larger schooners than any they had seen in the fleet. The strangers anchored for the night near the "Beauty" and the captain got out his night glass and studied them carefully.

"They ain't any of the fleet," he declared with keen disappointment. "They're Spanish smacks from Cuba. They fish around this coast regularly every season."

"Well, they'll be some company, anyway, as long as they stay near us," Charley said, cheerfully. "I can speak Spanish if I can't Greek, we can go over and call on them in the morning. I'd like to go to-night, but I feel too tired out to move."

Soon after supper, Manuel approached Captain Westfield, respectfully.

"We would like to go aboard the schooners, if you will permit," he requested. "We are nearly out of tobacco and the Cubans always carry a lot for which we can trade."

The old sailor thought for a few minutes. "You can go," he said, shortly, "you an' one man. Take the dingy. I don't want the diving boat used. An' be sure you're back aboard early."

The Greek thanked him effusively for the permission, and, calling one of his shipmates, the two got the schooner's little boat over the side and sculled away for the nearest smack.

"They have got plenty of tobacco," growled the captain, as soon as the two were out of hearing. "Thar was enough sent aboard at Tarpon to last them for months. I reckon he's figuring on deserting, that's why I let him go. I'd be willing to lose the boat and the other man to be well rid of him."

It seemed that the old sailor was correct for when eight o'clock came Manuel had not returned.

"After what happened last night, I don't reckon it's wise to leave the deck alone," the captain said as the boys prepared to retire to their bunks. "One of us had ought to keep watch to see that no one monkeys with the wheel or compass."

Walter offered to take the first watch from eight to twelve, and, leaving him pacing back and forth aft of the mainmast, the others retired to rest.

Charley was awakened by a vigorous shaking and his chum's voice calling to him to get up.

"My watch so soon," grumbled the lad sleepily, "Seems like I just got to sleep."

"It's only eleven o'clock," said Walter in excited tones, "but Manuel came aboard an hour ago very drunk. He must have brought liquor with him for they are all raising merry Ned in the forecastle now. The captain and Chris are on deck. Hurry up, there's likely to be trouble any minute."

Charley slipped hastily into his clothing and securing his revolver ran on deck. His three companions with revolvers in their hands were ranged across the deck just aft of the mainmast. From the forecastle, forward, came an uproar of shouting, cursing, and fighting.

The old sailor was blaming himself, bitterly. "I'd ought to have thought of it," he exclaimed, "Auguident is cheap as water in Cuba an' those smacks always carry a lot of it to trade off for other things. What an old fool I was."

"What shall we do?" Charley asked.

"Nothing, but let 'em fight it out amongst themselves an' keep 'em from crowding aft on us. Our lives wouldn't be worth a pinch of snuff if we went down to quiet them. If any of 'em tries to come aft of the mainmast, shoot him."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when a figure burst out of the forecastle and came running aft followed by several others staggering, shouting and cursing.

The captain raised his pistol and took deliberate aim as the flying man drew near.

"Stop, or I'll shoot," he commanded.

Charley knocked aside his upraised arm. "Let him pass," he cried, "it's the strange sailor, they have been trying to kill him."

The handsome fellow was bleeding from a dozen knife wounds, and was breathing short and heavily. As he reached the little party of chums, he turned about and faced his pursuers. It was evident that he did not lack courage.

The pursuing Greeks stopped short at sight of the little band stretched across the deck with leveled revolvers. For a minute they seemed about to dash forward regardless of consequences, but, after a moment's hesitation, with a volley of curses they turned and slunk back to the forecastle. They were yet sober enough to realize the danger of open mutiny.

"I don't think they'll try to bother us," said the captain with a sigh of relief. "They ain't drunk enough for that yet, an' I reckon they've about drank up all their liquor by now. It wouldn't last long amongst so many of them."

The strange sailor had sunk to the deck in a dead faint, and, leaving the boys to guard the deck, the Captain and Chris carried him below, and, laying him in one of the bunks, hurried back to their companions.

"He ain't going to die," the old sailor informed them. "He's just weak from loss of blood. I didn't take time to look him over close, but I counted nineteen knife cuts on his body an' likely thar's some I didn't notice."

"We will have to keep him back aft with us. They would likely kill him if we sent him back to the forecastle, for he is unable to defend himself now," Charley said, and his chums agreed with him.

The uproar in the forecastle continued for a long time then gradually subsided. Evidently, the crew had disposed of the last of the liquor and its effects were slowly wearing off.

Not until four o'clock, however, did the last noise cease, and the little party of chums remained on deck until the sun rose, ready for any violence from the drunken Greeks. Daylight found them pale and tired from their long, anxious vigil.

"Better go below, lads, and have a good nap," the captain advised. "They have all quieted down and there is no danger of trouble for the present. They are going to feel mighty sick and weak from the drink."

"I'm not going to give them a chance to sleep off their bad feelings," declared Charley, grimly. "My crew have got to turn to and work as usual. I'm going to turn them out as soon as Ben awakes."

When the little Greek lad appeared, looking pale and frightened, Charley sent him below to rouse Manuel.

The lad, apparently, did not relish the task but he went, and, after a long time, reappeared accompanied by the Greek.

Manuel plainly showed the effects of the liquor. He looked sick and haggard and one eye was much discolored from a blow he had received. He was ready, however, with an excuse for the night's disorder. "I did my best to stop the noise and trouble, and it was thus I received a blow in the eye."

"You were drunk when you came aboard," accused Walter.

"I took a drink on the schooner," admitted Manuel, "only one little drink. It was foolish, for I am unused to liquor and it went to my legs, but my head was clear. I regret the disorder of the others."

There was no doubt in the minds of the captain and the boys that he was really the author of all the trouble, but they could not prove it and Charley dismissed him with a curt command to call the crew.

They were a sick-looking crowd when they were at last collected on deck. All showed the effect of the liquor and many were the black eyes and bruised faces. Their fighting humor seemed to have departed, however, and they went about their tasks quietly, sullenly, and listlessly.

After they had finished their morning coffee, Charley ordered his crew into the diving boat and set out for the spot where they had found so many sponges.

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