“Thank you for that,” said Jack, his eyes lighting up. “I’m glad to know we have one friend on board this vessel.”
“I reckon I made a big mistake when I shipped with Cap’n Gilsen,” went on the tall sailor, rubbing one ear and then the other vigorously and then rubbing his chin. “I knew he was in the rum-runnin’ business, but I thought I could switch him on to somethin’ worth more money.”
“Where does this schooner hail from?”
“From Jamaica, lad. But don’t you let ’em know I told you,” went on Ira Small, impressively. “They don’t like me none too well as it is, and they’d like me still less if they knowed that I was tryin’ to help you fellows.”
“From Jamaica!”
“That’s it. And the ship’s made two trips since I been on board. I wanted to desert the first time we come up here with licker, but I didn’t git no chance. You see, when I shipped, as I said afore, I thought I could int’rest Cap’n Gilsen in somethin’ that would be worth more to him than this rum-runnin’ business. But he won’t listen to me. He thinks I’m crazy.” Ira Small shook his head vigorously and then rubbed his chin once more. “Well, maybe I am. But just the same, some day I’m goin’ to find them thirteen rocks.”
“You’re going to find what?” questioned Jack, puzzled.
“I’m goin’ to find them thirteen rocks somewheres down in the West Indies. I’ve got photygraphs of ’em, and I know jest what they look like.”
“Thirteen rocks!” repeated Jack. “What good would it do you to find those thirteen rocks?”