"I didn't mean that!" retorted his chum, flaring up. "And you know it. Only it seems funny. Huh! look at that!"
Mart looked again, and saw Jerry fling a gold piece to the waiter. The crew had been given their wages up to date, he knew, so there was nothing strange in this, but when the quartermaster carelessly waved the waiter to keep the change, it did look queer.
"Well, boys," and the thin clear voice of old Jerry pierced to them, "here's a health to the old crowd, and a quick passing to the Pirate Shark! Pity all the boys ain't here."
"Blast that Swanson!" growled the one-eyed Birch evilly. "He kep' Jimmy Dailey an' Borden in his watch—"
"Shut up!" snapped out Yorke, with a leer around. Jerry laughed softly.
"Perfectly safe, Yorke, perfectly safe! Best place to talk is in the middle of a crowd, as old Bucko Tom used to say. You mind old Bucko Tom, boys? Fish tell no tales—"
"Stow that jaw o' yours," exclaimed Yorke again. "I say it ain't safe."
The two boys looked at each other. Bob's eyes were burning, and Mart knew his own cheeks were flushed.
"Lay low," he said softly, his hand on Bob's wrist. "There's somethin' going on here, Holly. Remember when Swanson an' Jerry met, the night we sailed?"
Bob nodded excitedly, and Mart pressed him back out of sight. The young wireless operator was more deeply alarmed than he showed, and had no scruples about listening. They were not intentionally spying, and even if they had been, he would have thought little of it.