“So do we, if it comes to that,” was Jacks significant retort,
For some time they pulled in silence, the creaking of the oars in the rowlocks and the soft purling of the water about the boat's prow being the only sounds audible. When within a couple of hundred yards of the gleaming surfline, Don suddenly broke the silence.
“Hold hard, Jack! Do you make out anything astern there—anything black on the water?”
“Nothing,” said Jack, after a moment's hesitation.
“It's gone now, but I saw it quite plainly. Struck me it looked like a man's head. Must have been a dugong.”
“Or the lascar,” suggested Jack. “He's safe to follow us if he's an accomplice.”
“Hardly safe with so many sharks about,” rejoined Don, “unless his master has provided him with an extra potent charm.”
Five minutes later, the boat having meanwhile been beached upon the deserted sands, Puggles was rapidly “pointing” for the bazaar, where the shark-charmer slept o' nights. That they should find him there to-night, however, was almost too much to hope. He had probably “made tracks” with all speed after securing the pearls. All the same, a visit to the bazaar might furnish some clue to his present whereabouts.
“Stop!” said Don, when within fifty yards of the spot. “The whole place will be astir in two minutes if we show ourselves, Jack. We'd better send Pug on ahead to reconnoitre while we wait here. Do you know the hut he usually sleeps in, Pug?”
“Me finding with me eyes shut, sa'b.”