“Got any fresh water?” hailed a voice, as they came alongside.
The man who uttered the appeal was a powerfully built fellow, with a plentiful crop of black whiskers, which gave him a ferocious expression.
“That’s Captain Ralph Lawless,” whispered the professor to Nat.
At the same instant, the skipper of the Tropic Bird appeared to recognize the professor.
“Why, surely that’s Professor Grigg?” he cried out, apparently in great astonishment.
“Yes, it is, you cowardly rascal,” burst out the professor, his anger overmastering his usually placid disposition. “What do you mean by deserting us in the manner you did? We might have perished if it had not been for these brave lads and their vessel.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” muttered the man, as the Motor Rangers’ vessel drew in close alongside, “but I couldn’t help myself.”
“Couldn’t help yourself?” echoed the scientist, still angry. “How was that, pray?”
“Why, I felt my schooner being drawn in toward the islands. If I hadn’t ‘cut stick’ when I did, we’d all have been lost, and I don’t see how that would have helped you.”
This answer mollified the professor somewhat.