CHAPTER XIII
[Marooned!]
Bee, leaning against the wheel, whistled softly. Hal looked from the idle engine to the green slopes of the island in deep disgust. Jack swept his gaze up and down the shore. An hour ago there had been a half-dozen sails in sight; now, save for a tug and a line of barges afar out, and a four-masted schooner some five miles southward, not a craft was in sight. Hal broke the silence first.
“This is a nice mess!” he exclaimed. “What shall we do?”
“I don’t believe there’s much we can do,” responded Jack. “I guess if we wait long enough somebody’ll come along and give us a tow, but until then about the only thing is sit down and be comfortable.” He acted on his own suggestion. Hal looked for rescuers and found none.
“Who do you suppose stole our oars?” he growled.
“I’m inclined to suspect Honest Bill Glass,” replied Jack, with a smile. “When a man begins by assuring you he’s honest it’s a good plan to look out for him. I suppose we ought to have been more careful, but nobody ever steals things around here—except some of the Portuguese now and then. I wonder if Bill went aboard the sloop. If he did he didn’t find much. He might take my slicker and the bedding in the cabin and a few cooking things, though.”
“When we get back I mean to take a trip up the river and pay Bill Glass a visit,” declared Hal. “Even if we don’t find the things I’ll have the satisfaction of telling him what I think of him, the old pirate!”
“We might find out when he’s away and then go up there and make a search,” suggested Bee. “Bill looks like a bad man to tackle.”