“The hurricane deck!” exclaimed the Professor. “The officer’s cabin!”
Thither they rushed. Here again they were unrewarded.
“What could have happened?” asked the Professor in consternation.
“You don’t suppose he changed his mind and shipped them as cargo, do you?” asked Johnny.
“I hardly think so,” said the Professor, “yet all things are possible.”
“It’s my opinion that those natives carried them off,” said Pant.
“Didn’t in that canoe,” objected Johnny. “Saw right into it. Wasn’t a thing. Might have hid them on shore, though. I suggest that we go ashore and do a little searching, and prepare some sort of meal. There’s food down in the galleys—canned stuff and the like.”
Leaving the Professor to keep watch, the two boys hurried down below, to reappear a few minutes later each with a dishpan full of cans, jars and cartons of food of every description.
“Won’t starve, anyway,” panted Johnny.
“Yes, but whatever we do we’ve got to hurry,” said Pant. “Those natives will be coming back. Then there’ll be no staying on the island for us. Natives are all right when there are plenty of white men about to make them be good, but give them three white men and a shipload of loot and them about a hundred strong, then see how quickly the white men disappear.”