The quartermaster reached out for his big helmet, and Bob sprang forward to assist him. At the same instant, however, they were startled by a hail from the shore, and looked up to see Birch standing beside the stranded boat.
"Seamew ahoy!" he called again.
"Well, what do you want?" returned Mart.
"Let me row out alone? I want to talk."
Mart glanced at Bob. "How about it, Holly? I s'pose he wants some grub and water."
"Let him come out, lads," spoke up Jerry before Bob could reply. "You've got us, you have; let him come out, lads, and talk it over."
"All right," shouted Mart to the seaman, then turned to Bob. "Holly, you get up on deck with one o' them rifles. If there's any trouble, you shoot Jerry, see?"
Bob grimaced behind the quartermaster's back, and ascended the ladder. Watching the shore, Mart saw Birch turn and say something; the forms of the other men came from among the bushes and they helped shove out the boat. The one-eyed seaman leaped into her and settled down at the oars.
As Jerry was firmly anchored down by his weights and heavy boots, Mart had no fear of any trouble arising. When Birch had come within twenty feet of the yacht, however, Mart stopped him curtly.
"Close enough, there! Now, what do you want?"