“I guess I’ll have to,” said the sailor. “I ask your pardon, mates, but you see I’m naturally suspicious. I’ve been through a deal of hardships, like, and this is my first chance to make some money. I’m going to get this ship to port if I can, and claim salvage.”
“But what about the Sheldons?” asked Bob, eagerly. “Were they aboard? Are they drowned? What has become of my uncle and cousin? If they’re not here we’ll have to go in search of them.”
“Easy, son, easy!” exclaimed the old sailor, in gentle tones. “Once more I asks your pardon for the way I received you folks. I didn’t mean anything by it. And to think that I acted that way toward friends of Mr. Sheldon—after all he did for me! It’s too bad!”
“Then he was here?” asked Bob, eagerly.
“He was, son, he and his daughter. But they’re not here now—nobody stayed but myself, though it would have been better for all hands if they had. The old Hassen is tight yet.”
“But where are they—where is my uncle?” cried Bob, a little impatient at the man’s long-winded talk.
“They went off in one of the small boats,” said the sailor. “Sit ye down, lads, and I’ll tell you all about it. Sit ye down. Oh, but it’s good to see friends again! I’ve been lonesome these last days, just drifting along. Sit down and I’ll spin you the yarn in proper fashion.”
“We can’t stay long,” said Jerry, foreseeing a lengthy tale. “If our friends aren’t here we must go aloft and search for them. They may be suffering.”
“I don’t doubt but what they are,” returned the sailor, in a low voice. “They went off in an open boat, and there wasn’t much time to put water and provisions aboard. But I won’t keep you long. I’ll tell you what happened then—at the time of the storm—and since. Your friends may not be as far away as you think.”
“Where? Where are they?” cried Bob, eagerly.