"How did you know that?" asked Gerald. "Captain Brookes agreed to my proposal, and ever since then he has not been out of my sight."
"I don't know; I'm here, and there's an end of it as far as I am concerned," replied Jack, philosophically.
"Well, let's go on deck. We've sighted some vessel or the other."
"What's the game—piracy?" asked Stockton, suspiciously.
"I don't think so. But we're easing down, so look sharp."
Together the two chums gained the quarterdeck, the sentry on the half deck coming to the salute as Tregarthen passed. Here, again, Gerald was puzzled, for the man evidently was aware that the young lieutenant was no longer under arrest but had nominally become an officer of the ship.
The Olive Branch and the Puma lay side by side at about a cable's length apart. There was a total absence of wind, and the sea was as smooth as glass, while overhead the sun beat fiercely down upon the mirror-like surface of the ocean.
On the Olive Branch the bo'sun's mate had piped "Clear lower deck," and already the somewhat meagre crew had mustered on the upper deck, where warps and hawsers were being laid out with the evident intention of making fast to the other vessel.
The Puma was a tramp steamer of about 6,000 tons, with two stumpy masts, a black funnel, and towering wall sides that had been but partially painted, for a considerable portion of her hull still showed the priming coat of red lead. From an ensign staff over her taffrail the stars and stripes hung motionless in the sultry air. The Olive Branch flew no colours.
"I don't think it's piracy this time," remarked Jack. "The men are not armed."