Tommy drew in his breath with a sharp hiss, saying:
"That's a cold blooded bunch!"
"They're on those islands, sir," Gates cried. "I just feel it!"
The mate and his half of the crew had come aboard after making the Orchid snug for whatever weather the increasing sultriness portended, while Tommy took Smilax forward to coach him in the manipulation of an automatic revolver—for this modern arm puzzled the big negro who was, however, nicely skilled in the use of older models.
That something brewed in the way of a storm did not require a barometer or the eye of a seaman to determine, so I insisted upon speeding up preparations for the landing force. This met the approval of all, since the skipper thought it likely that we could be put ashore and the Whim get well on her way back to Big Cove before the disturbance came.
While we ate a hasty supper, therefore, Bilkins saw that the things we should want were stored in the small boat: food, ammunition, canvas for a lean-to, matches, utensils of sundry kinds—in fact, the necessaries. He had attended to my camping outfits before, and possessed a genius for knowing what to include. Only when this was under way, and the mate had thrice assured Gates of his ability to navigate the Whim on her ticklish course down the coast, did the old captain feel satisfied to join us at table.
He brought with him a large chart that he pinned to the wall and, nodding to it as he tucked a napkin under his chin, said:
"You should take that, sir. It shows scarce more'n the shore line, but the shore's where you'll be, and not far inland. Here's Little Cove," he touched the spot with his fork. "In harf an hour we'll lay outside it, not being able to get in, and there we'll anchor to put you off. Who'll you be taking with you, sir?"
"Tommy and I thought we'd make a sort of reconnoissance first, and Bilkins says he wants to go as cook," I answered. "In a day or two, weather permitting, we'll sail the small boat up to Big Cove for a council of war."
"Well, sir," he said, shaking his head, "just go slow, that's all I arsk. Don't start anything. There's no use two young fellows kicking up a racket without their friends, that's what I say. So just poke around, but keep out of sight; learn all you want, but don't start anything. If you carn't learn it all, be satisfied with harf; then the rest of us will take that and make a whole of it in no time. Am I right, Professor?"