OFF FOR TRINGANU
It was Sunday afternoon. Joe Swanson and the second mate, "Liverpool" Peters, had departed that morning to enjoy their last few hours on shore. Captain Hollinger, Mart, and Bob were alone on board, save for the steward, and the three were sitting around a big pitcher of lemonade under the after-deck awnings. The financier-yachtsman was enthusiastically outlining his plans for sport during his trip.
"We're going to have a great time, boys," he exclaimed heartily, "I've got everything on board you can think of, from tackle for sharks to dynamite."
"Huh? Dynamite?" asked Mart quickly. "What's that for, Cap'n?"
"I don't know," returned the captain coolly. The two boys stared.
"What—you don't know?" asked Bob in surprise. His father laughed.
"No. I put it aboard at the suggestion of old Jerry Smith. He said we might have need for it during the diving operations, and I simply took his advice. He's pretty well posted on everything out in that section of the world, and promises me some exciting sport shooting tigers."
"I thought tigers were found only in India," put in Mart, puzzled. "That's where they usually shoot 'em, isn't it?"
"No," said the captain, leaning back and lighting his cigar. "No, Mart, you're off there. You'll find tigers all through the Malay States and up into China proper—I believe they've even been found in parts of Japan. We're going to have some great shooting, boys! And while I'm off with you in the jungle, or hills—for I'm not sure which we'll find—old Jerry can be managing the diving and dredging operations at the other end without bothering me till the work's ready for inspection."
"What's Jerry gettin' out o' this?" queried Mart thoughtfully.