The boys from the Colodia started away from the wreck at once, but the British Naval officer called after them:
“Hold on, my lads. I can’t have you going alone on such a mission. If there really is a spy at large——”
“He’s at large, all right, sir,” Morgan interposed. “Give us Willum Johnson and we’ll get the fellow, sure.”
“Aye, lad!” cried the giant sailor. “We’ll git ’im, dead or alive.”
“You see that you get him alive, Bill,” said the officer, sternly. “No mistake about that. I’ll have to explain your pounding this fellow all up.”
“Bli’me!” said Johnson, “Hi didn’t begin to treat ’im rough enough.”
But this was under his breath and after he had turned away to follow the four Navy Boys. The officer did not hear the comment.
By Whistler’s advice they all stooped at the summit and crept over the ridge among the bushes and rocks, endeavoring to keep their bodies out of the view of anybody below on the hillside, where Phil had left George Belding and the German spy.
“Hit’s a fair chance, lads, they seed me,” remarked the British seaman. “But mebbe they’d spot muh for a bloomin’ cow!”
“Where’s that other fellow, Whistler?” asked Al. “Belding, did you call him?”