“What’s it worth?” whispered the dazed boy.
“Twenty years of isolation in this desolate world,” said the suddenly sobered Englishman. “In money, it has no price. It is not for sale.”
There was no more rest for Andy that morning. When the Pelican had been taken apart and loaded on the schooner and Captain Bassett’s crews of spongers had been embarked in their small boats, it was noon. While luncheon was served under the awning, the schooner passed out of the cove on her way to Andros Island.
Physically exhausted and his nerves unstrung, Captain Bassett put Andy in his bunk at once. When he awoke it was dark, the schooner was cutting through a moonlit sea and the boy knew it was late in the night. When he awoke again it was day and the schooner was tacking among almost countless islands.
A little later Andros Island was in sight. Then a heavily-laden schooner, freighted with baled sisal hemp and crates of oranges and pineapples, was hailed by the incoming schooner.
“It’s one of my boats,” explained Captain Bassett, “on her way to Nassau. We’ll send your cablegram on it.”
“Why not put me aboard?” asked Andy, again lively and full of vim.
“It can’t well take the aeroplane,” explained the Englishman. “Besides, I want to take you to Nassau myself. I’ll see you properly started for your own country.”