"Let the anchor sink slowly, Jerry, and don't make a sound, if you can avoid it," said Frank.
"It's already on the bottom. Why, we're in only four feet of water here!" came back the whispered answer.
"Now what about the boy you pulled off that craft?" asked Bluff.
"Come here, Joe," said Frank kindly.
Instantly he felt a hand clasping his eagerly, and a boyish voice exclaimed softly:
"Oh! I wanter thank you ever so much for what you did, and my mom'll say the same thing when she sees you!"
"That's all right, Joe. All of us are only boys, older than you, of course, but ready to hold out a helping hand to a poor chap in trouble. Suppose you tell us, in a whisper now, what brought you aboard that sharpie. Who are those three men, and how did you happen to be sailing with them?"
"They're Hank, and Carlos, the Cuban, and my Uncle Ben," came the reply.
"Hello! He's got an uncle aboard!" said Jerry uneasily.
"But he's the worst of the whole lot. He beats me, and calls me bad names. My mother is afraid of him. She didn't want to let me go on this trip with Uncle Ben, but he just made me. His name is Baxter. You see, he's her brother-in-law, not her real brother. I always called him uncle, but he ain't, either. I hate him, and I'd sooner die than go back there again!"