“So now you are in distress?” he said.
“Yes. We have run short of water. Can’t those kids let us have some?”
“You’ll have to ask ‘those kids,’ as you call them,” said the professor, with some disgust.
“How much do you want?” asked Nat, who felt less and less liking for the captain of the Tropic Bird.
“Oh, a few gallons will do. I know an island not more than a day’s sail from here, where I can refill my tanks.”
At this point, another man—a short, stout fellow, like the captain—came bustling up.
“Hullo, there, professor!” he hailed in an impudent voice. “So you came out all right, after all. Are you coming on board?”
“I am coming on board to get my things, Mr. Durkee,” was the response, “but I am not going to continue my voyage on the Tropic Bird.”
The captain looked rather dismayed at this.
“Oh, come now,” he said, “let bygones be bygones. I should be in a fine fix if I sailed home without you.”