“Speak up, you, and keep us no longer in suspenders!” cried Wiley.
“Those men—those men who have been released——”
“What of them?” demanded Dick.
Colvin passed the glass quickly to Wiley.
“Take a look yourself, cap’n,” he directed. “You oughter to know some of them.”
After one glance, the sailor ejaculated:
“Dash my toplights! Shiver my timbers! May I be keelhauled if they ain’t that sweet little aggregation I gathered for the purpose of operating the new mines! Why, there’s Texas Bland! I recognize his sable mustache and flowing hair.”
“That’s it,” nodded Colvin—“that’s it exactly. They are the very men. What air they doin’ here?”
“A short time ago they seemed to be in endurance vile. If I mistake not, three gentlemen in that party were escorting them as captives of war to some unknown port. Mates, I will stake my life there have been voluminous doings in the Enchanted Valley. Something of a critical nature surely happened there.”
“But Frank is not in that party,” said Dick. “Where can he be?”