“Right-o, Charlie boy. It looks like a happy voyage, even if we did get off to a bum start.”
Soon Mr. Duff lumbered to the bridge to report:
“I am going to feed my animals directly, sir. They are washing down with the hose and scrubbing for their lives. A smart ship, by the time we slide into the Pacific! The second mate refused to go off watch. He bounces after the men and damns their eyes if they turn their heads to spit. The only moment Mr. Panchito took off was to shift into a purple silk shirt and a necktie with yellow spots.”
The routine set in motion, Richard Cary went in to visit the invalid Señor Ramon Bazán. He was sitting up in bed. Joyously he piped:
“A life on the ocean wave, Ricardo! I am a man ten years younger. And the ship has sailed with no trouble at all. How is my fine ship and my great captain?”
“Not a care in the world,” was the genial reply. “Everybody earning his wages and the course set for the Isthmus.”
“Bend your ear down, Ricardo mine. Softly now. There is no whisper of our secret plans? They know nothing about the treasure chart and Cocos Island?”
“Not a suspicion, Papa Ramon. To Buenaventura for orders and thence with cargo.”
“What kind of a crew is it to trust when we find the six million dollars and the gold ingots? This is the only thing that has worried me, Ricardo. I could do no better for a crew in Cartagena. This chief officer, Bradley Duff. Will he be a bad egg?”
“Right as can be. You can’t always judge a man by his looks and manners. As for the crew, there will be no trouble with them.”