"She was four years old when Big Harry brought her out to the South Seas in the old Moonbeam. When he lost his money he turned the yacht into a trader, and kept his daughter with him, as she had no mother, and she's been at sea most of the time ever since," explained Jack in a low voice, as this sea-maiden ogled the sun.
Silently they watched her. This taking of the sun to the uninitiated always seems a most mysterious and wonderful operation, and Broncho, Jim, and the bluejacket stared with eyes full of awe and admiration.
The sun was now close to the meridian, and presently the woman called out,
"Make eight bells!"
Jack laughingly beat the notes of the bell with a spoon on the barrel of his six-shooter.
"Throw me over the almanac and tables, Jim," cried Loyola coolly, and a minute later she announced their latitude.
"Think we're in for some dirt, Lolie?" inquired the rolling-stone casually.
"Sure of it! What you say, Tari?"
"Missee qui' right, big blow by-an'-by."
"I hope not," said the boy anxiously. "In an open boat there ain't no joke in it."