“Last evening, mate,” growled the other.
“Yes, that’s right, messmate. He just had a word with us. Mr Burgess sent him. He wanted news, but of course we had got none, only about the shooting. The bosun said that if the skipper didn’t soon come back he was afraid accidents would happen to the schooner—catch fire, or something—for old Burgess was making it so hot for everybody that he was glad to get away in the little boat.”
“Off with you!” said Poole, and he and his companion hurried back through the gathering mist.
Chapter Thirty Two.
Winks’s Sallys.
The distance back to the hacienda seemed short enough, and in anticipation of his mission proving successful, the skipper had his first boat’s load told off ready for their start.
“Well done! Splendid!” he said to the lads. “Off with you back. Take the command, Poole. Are you going again, Mr Burnett?”
“Yes, sir; of course.”