“Hist!” said Jack suddenly; “there's some one at the skylight again. Wait a minute—I'll soon put an end to his spying.”
Clearing the ladder at a bound, he emerged upon the deck before the listener was aware of his approach. The spy was actually bending over the open skylight. He was there for no good or friendly purpose—that was evident.
“You're not after water this time, anyhow,” said Jack, hauling him off the cabin with scant ceremony. “Didn't I tell you to go forward? You'll obey orders next time, perhaps;” and drawing off, he felled him to the deck with a single blow.
The lascar picked himself up and scuttled forward, muttering curses beneath his breath.
“There,” said Jack quietly, as he rejoined those below, “we'll not be spied upon again to-night, I fancy. Now, Don, for the rest of your plan.”
“That's soon told. I propose that we follow the thief at once. The only difficulty will be to get on his track.”
“Marster going take me?” queried Puggles anxiously.
“Why, of course,” said Don; “we couldn't manage without you, Pug.”
“Then,” said Puggles, grinning, “me soon putting on track; me knowing place Salambo sleeping plenty nights.”
“Good; there's something in that,” said Don. “He is sure to go straight to his den on leaving the schooner, though it's hardly likely he'll remain there to sleep. Still, he might. 'Twill give us a clue to his whereabouts, at all events. And now, Jack, ready's the word.”