Meanwhile, as the Sarahites worked, the Natchez and Juan, lying in cynical and sinister neglect and dirt, showed little signs of life. The working party on the reef seemed busy enough; but the ships, save for a few hands lounging at the rails or squatting about the foc’sle head, might have been deserted.
About ten o’clock a boat put off from the Natchez. Cleary was in the sternsheets, and as she came alongside he hailed the Sarah.
Satan came to the rail.
“Sellers’s going to bust her open today,” said Cleary. “Just had word from him.”
“I thought he wouldn’t be ready till tomorrow,” said Satan.
“Just had word the hole’s near deep enough and the star cuttin’s from it. He’s got the powder off and reckons to fire it at noon. Wants you to come an’ help.”
“Oh, does he?”
“He’s a bit bothered about the fuse, not havin’ done much of that sort of work, and he reckons you’re an ingenious cuss an’ll be able to put him wise.”
“Oh, does he? Well, I’ll be there.”
Cleary came over the rail.