“Let him read them, Pop,” urged John. “Give him a chance.”
“Twenty, one, eleven, five, one, three, fifteen, twenty-one, eighteen, nineteen, five.” Grant paused. “That’s a funny thing” he said. “Every number is distinctly separated from the next one. It certainly seems as if it must mean something.”
“All right, I’ll tell Petersen that you are going to solve the mystery, Socrates, my boy,” laughed Pop. “Shall I?”
Before Grant could answer there was a shout. A few sharp orders were given and immediately everything on board the Josephine was bustle and hurry. The crew came rushing out on deck, and scattered hither and thither all over the brig in obedience to the orders that were being given so rapidly. An anxious look was on the faces of all the men.
CHAPTER V
A TROPICAL STORM
“What’s all this?” exclaimed Grant, startled by the sudden change that had come over the boat.
The four boys looked about them in surprise, unable to account for the transformation. Petersen was forgotten; jewels and treasure were forgotten; even the strange code was forgotten and Grant absent-mindedly thrust it into his trouser’s pocket.
“What is it, do you suppose?” he exclaimed again.
“Look over there and you’ll see,” said Fred.