Bill grinned. “Pro tem means for the time being,” he said. “But I’d better tell you, Charlie, that the Chief is feeling low tonight, so don’t get fresh. He’ll tomahawk you one of these days if you don’t look out!”
“Oh, yeah?” Charlie seemed unimpressed by this dire threat. Then his tone changed suddenly. “Please, Bill,” he whispered eagerly, “let me be a pirate, too. Gee, it would be such fun. Can’t I?”
Both Bill and Osceola burst into a shout of laughter. “But how about your Dad?” asked the Seminole.
“Well, what about him?”
Bill shook his head. “Talk like that to him, and he’ll be offering you the choice of back or bristles!”
“Aw, cut it out! I’m serious, Bill. Please let me be a pirate!”
“I’ll think about it, Charlie.” Bill took him by the arm and moved over to the rail. “But I do want you to do something for me,” he said in lowered tones. “You must keep it entirely to yourself, though. If you mention it to a single soul, you’ll get us all into a heap of trouble.”
“I won’t—honest, Bill. I’ll shut up like a clam! What is it?”
“All right then, I’ll trust you. I want you to make friends with the wireless operators. There are two of them. Find out when they relieve each other, whether the door is kept locked—in fact, find out everything you can—without making them suspicious. Got that?”
“You bet. Take it from me, they’ll never guess what I’m after!”