“Raoul Duval, as sure as there’s a north star!” choked out Ben, half to himself, “waal, if this ain’t a small bit of a world!”
CHAPTER XIV.—BEN’S PLAN STOLEN.
For his part Duval was no less quick in recognizing Ben Stubbs. At the moment, Dr. Perkins and the rest were standing in a group a little apart, and discussing their adventure, while Mr. Sterrett was loud in his praises of the Sea Eagle, which he described as the most wonderful craft on earth. Giving a swift look round to see that he was unobserved, Duval pressed a finger to his lips to enjoin silence on Ben, and then beckoned him to come a short distance out of the firelight.
Ben, in wonderment as to this unexpected reappearance of the young man who had exercised such sharp practice on him, obeyed the summons. But when he addressed Duval it was in an angry tone.
“What’s this mean,” he exclaimed, “how did you come here?”
“As you see, by that air ship,” was the reply; “I never expected to see you here, however. I tell you, Stubbs, I’ve had a lot of hard luck. When those boys and that professor-chap rescued us I had been compelled to ship as a deckhand and cook on that yacht. Just think of it.”
“A mighty good thing for you, say I,” grunted Ben brusquely, “a little good, honest, hard work will take some of the crooked kinks out of your brain. My recommendation to you, Duval, is to stick to that sort of a job, and in time you’ll learn to be a man.”
Duval shot a look full of malice at the blunt old fellow. But his face was in the shadow, and Ben did not notice it. Instead he continued:
“But I ain’t the one to bear a grudge, Duval, although you did come mighty near shipwrecking my faith in human natur’. Shake hands, mate, and for your old father’s sake I’ll do what I can fer you. I ain’t one to kick a man when he’s down.”
Duval extended his thin, long-fingered hand, and Ben seized it in his rough paw and shook it with a heartiness that made the dark-skinned Duval flinch.