"I think there's no doubt of it," exclaimed the captain at last, even Swanson nodding gloomily. "Poor Peters must have either committed suicide, or else he fell overboard. Stand by for another hour, Mr. Swanson, then put the ship on her course again."
Only then did the boys become aware that the yacht was retracing her course in the vain effort to pick up her lost second mate. Later on that morning, when all hope had been given up, Bob and Mart sat in the wireless house and talked over the matter in sober earnest. As gladly as they could have suspected Birch, however, they agreed that there was no foul play involved.
"Your dad's no fool," declared Mart positively. "He sized up everything pretty square, and Swanson didn't overlook anything either. Joe is sore at Jerry for something—prob'ly suspects him of being a pirate."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised myself," asserted Bob. "Poor Liverpool! He was a fine chap, for all his rough ways. Still, there's no doubt that Birch was innocent. I shouldn't wonder if Liverpool got moonstruck and just pitched overboard. I've heard of that happening before, Mart. Look out—there's old Jerry coming aft now."
Sure enough, Mart looked out to see the slightly stooping figure of the old quartermaster coming aft to the wireless house. Jerry entered, ducked his head in silent greeting, and said nothing for some moments. After his pipe was filled, he looked out at the ocean, glittering in the morning sun, and then turned to glance solemnly at the two boys.
"Mystery o' the sea, lads—wave after wave! Fish down below, lads, and us up above. Fish tell no tales, fish tell no tales! Poor Liverpool Peters, he's—"
"Look here, Jerry," exclaimed Mart, breaking in abruptly on the old man's talk and forcing the bleary blue eyes to meet his. "I'd like to know just how much stock to take in your talk. How long is it since you and the rest of 'em were shipmates together aboard the Coralie, eh?"
Mart fully expected that Jerry would break out into vehement denial, and might even be surprised into making some admission. Bob, also, while no little astonished at his chum's unexpected attack, nodded his support and craned forward as he watched the quartermaster.
But to their mutual disconcertion, old Jerry's face did not change, save for a slight widening of his blue eyes as they met the hard gray ones of Mart. When he replied to the question, it was with a little chuckle as of inward amusement.
"Well, well! So you lads have heard about the old Coralie, hey? There ain't many in these seas as haven't, 'cause why, men are bound to talk. Only fish tell no tales, lads. Aye, the old Coralie was a sweet little schooner, she was! But that was all years ago—and now she's lyin' ninety fathom deep, lads, off the South Lyconia reef. Not very far from here, neither, where she went down."