“Shall I hail him?” he whispered, inquiringly, to Tom.
“Yes, do, Will. He’ll bring us something to eat and drink and won’t betray us.”
Will pushed the door of their place of concealment slightly ajar.
“Jack!” he uttered in a distinct but subdued tone.
The boatswain, who was arranging a bunk, started, and looked bewilderedly around him.
“Here, Jack, it’s Tom Dalton and myself,” spoke Will, pushing the door clear open.
Jack Marcy came to the spot and stood staring in profound amazement at the two boyish faces peering out at him.
“Well, well,” was all he could say, in dumbfounded amazement.
“Don’t you know us, Jack? It’s Tom Dalton and Will Bertram.”
“Yes, yes, I know you, but how on earth do you come here?” spoke the mystified boatswain.