CHAPTER XI.
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN INTO THE FIRE.
Frank took the first watch.
It was to begin about ten o'clock that night; for both of them had remained on deck, talking, up to that hour. The night was so comfortable after the hot day that they disliked going into the sleeping quarters. These happened to face the deck, however, so that the vessel was admirably suited to cruising in tropical regions.
"Every thing seems to be going on decently right now," remarked Andy, yawning, as he prepared to have a few hours' sleep.
"That's so," returned his chum. "But while we've got some of the faithful ones on duty, we mustn't forget that there may be other snakes aboard. Enrique and the little shouter may not have been all the sympathizers with the revolutionists. And not for a minute will we relax our vigilance."
That was Frank's way; and just now Andy fully approved of it. His heart was so set upon having a chance to use the monoplane in the endeavor to discover that strange cliff-enclosed valley, where his father was imprisoned, that he did not mean to take any chances of losing out through over confidence.
So he packed off to his berth, while Frank prepared for three hours of lonely vigil. He expected to make the rounds just about once in so often, and have a few words with the man at the wheel. Felipe had declared that it was his intention to keep busy himself through the night, since he dared not trust the wheel in the hands of an inexperienced pilot while darkness lasted.
In the morning he could give directions, and allow an assistant to do the work, while he secured some rest.
There was no moon after early in the evening, when the young queen of the night disappeared in the west, leaving the bright stars to control the skies.