"Twenty days out from London, as Uncle Jim figured it, and the Kenilworth is one day nearer the Reef."
Twenty-two days had been counted when Captain Jim called at the cottage and told Dan to go aboard the Resolute and stay there until further orders. When the deck-hand reported for duty, he found all hands of the crew either at work on board or within call on the wharf. Bill McKnight had steam in his boilers and, although the fires were banked, he had just finished stowing below a generous supply of resinous pine wood, oil-soaked cotton waste, and a barrel of turpentine for use as emergency fuel.
"I lost thirty-five pounds of weight in three weeks," snorted the engineer, "but I mended the old hooker to stay mended. Ho, ho, there goes the Henry Foster to sea, Captain. Wonder if there's anything doing so soon? Her engines sound like a mowing-machine trying to cut a path through a brick-yard."
"Don't worry about her," muttered Captain Jim. "Pringle isn't aboard her. We won't leave here until he gets uneasy. He is a good deal better posted than I am about his infernal program and we——"
Captain Jim stopped short, for Barton Pringle unexpectedly appeared on deck and announced to Dan:
"I'm going up the Hawk Channel with father at daylight to look for one of our sponging vessels that's reported ashore near Bahia Honda Key. Thought I'd say good-by."
Dan could not help glancing at Captain Jim as he replied with a quiver of excitement in his voice:
"We may be running up the outside channel before you get back, Bart. Perhaps we shall sight you. Hope you have a good trip."
Barton was in a hurry and jumped ashore with a wave of his hand to the chief engineer. When he was out of ear-shot Dan observed with a long face: