“I don’t see any smoke,” said Raynor. “Perhaps it’s a sailing ship after all.”
“We’ll know before long,” was Jack’s reply.
During an interval in which the Sea Gypsy drew steadily toward the craft that had, by this time, excited the attention of all on board, the boys saw Mr. Jukes emerge from his cabin and take his place on the bridge beside Captain Sparhawk. That bronzed mariner handed the millionaire his glasses and Mr. Jukes’ rather fat, pallid face took on an unwonted hue of excitement as he handed them back.
The boys standing on the main deck just below the bridge heard the owner of the yacht putting sharp questions. He showed more animation than he had at any time during the voyage. The sight of the other craft appeared to affect him curiously.
“She’s a schooner, Sparhawk.”
“Undoubtedly, sir.”
“But although she has her canvas set she is making no way.”
“That appears to be correct. But there is little wind. Odd though that she doesn’t signal us.”
Mr. Jukes snatched up the glasses again from the shelf where he had laid them down.
“Blessed if I can make out a soul on board her, Sparhawk,” he exclaimed presently. “Here, try what you can do.”