“Shiver my smokestack!” cried he at last, slapping his thigh energetically with his disengaged hand, “the thing's as easy as boxin' the compass, lads! You axes me for adwice: my adwice is, up anchor and away as soon as ye can. Supplies is low, says you. What o' that? I axes. There's a canvas bag in the old sea-chest yonder as'll charter all the boats hereabouts, if so be as they're wanted, which they ain't, d'ye mind me. Ye can dror on the canvas bag, lads, an' welcome—why not? I axes. An' there's as tight a leetle cutter in the boat-house below as ever ye clapped eyes on—which the Jolly Tar's her name—what's at your sarvice, shiver my main-brace if it ain't! An' blow me, as the fog-horn says to the donkey-engine, I'll ship along with ye, lads!”
“An' a-sailin' we'll go, we'll go;
An' a-sailin' we will go-o-o!”
he concluded, with a stave of a rollicking old sea-song.
“Hurrah! You're a trump, captain, and no mistake!” cried Jack, while Don sprang forward and gripped the old sailor's hand with a heartiness that showed how thoroughly he appreciated this generous offer.
“Why, y'see, lads,” explained the captain apologetically, “'twould be ekal to a-sendin' of ye to Davy Jones if I was to let ye go pokin” round this 'ere Strait alone. Now me—rope-yarn an' marlin-spikes!—there ain't a reef, nor a shool, nor yet a crik atween Colombie an' Jafna P'int but what's laid down on this 'ere old chart o' mine,” tapping his forehead significantly. “An' besides I'm a-spilin' for a bit o' the briny, so with you I ships—an' why not? I axes.”
“And right glad of your company and assistance we'll be, captain,” said Don. “The main difficulty will be, of course, to discover to what part of the Indian coast the thief has gone.”
The captain puffed thoughtfully at his pipe.
“Why, as for that,” said he at length, “I've an idee as I knows his reckonin', shiver my binnacle if I ain't! But that's neither here nor there at this present speakin'. Ballast's the first consideration, lads; so dror up your cheers an' tackle the perwisions.”
When they had complied with this welcome invitation to the entire satisfaction of the captain and their own appetites, “Now, lads,” said the old sailor gaily, “do ye turn in an' snatch a wink o' sleep, whiles I goes an' gets the cutter ready for puttin' to sea. For, says you, look alive's the word if so be as we wants to overhaul the warmint as took the treasure in tow. Spike my guns!—we'll make him heave to in no time!