“We’re going to land at the nearest town, and both of you are going ashore,” said the master of the Firefly. “I’ll pay you off, and give you your passage money back to New York, and we’ll let that end it.”
Olesen wanted to argue the matter, and when not allowed to do this tried to become abusive. Then the captain told him to be quiet or he would be put in irons. Amend was scared and lost no time in going below to get his effects into shape to take away, and presently Olesen staggered down to his own stateroom.
Another storm was coming up, following the extra hot spell, and before they could make a landing it was blowing furiously. However, they got into a small bay in safety, and then Olesen and Amend were put off in a small boat for town, their effects going with them.
“You haven’t heard the end of this!” roared the head diver, as he shook his fist when taking his departure. “Just wait and see what I’ll do!”
“Hot air! Hot air!” shouted Nat Brooks after him. “You keep a civil tongue in your head or you’ll never do any diver’s work around New York again.”
As soon as the divers were gone Captain Corning set sail once more, this time for a place further up the coast, called Progreso.
“I’m going to look for another diver,” said he. “I understand that some of these Mexicans are very good at the game. This time I’ll hire a fellow who’ll do exactly what I order—no more and no less.”
On going ashore at Progreso, from which a number of Gulf ships run to various points in the United States and the West Indies, the boys were delighted to learn that they could get into communication by telegraph and cable with the folks at home. And so, while the captain was busy trying to find another diver, they sent a message to New York.
It was not until three hours later that a reply came in. This was in code and had to be deciphered with care.