"In irons, captain?"
"No, the hold storeroom is safe and sound. Put him there. We mustn't let the man escape until we know what he knows."
Captain Broadbeam had a long talk with Amos Fearless. He decided that early the next morning they would make up a strong party, well armed, and march on the native town of the Windjammers.
"Come in here, my friends," said the captain to Pat Stoodles and Bob Vilett, at the end of his talk with Mr. Fearless.
He then told them of his decision. Stoodles did not say much. Bob was pleased and eager to start on the foray.
"I hope we shall be in time," sighed Dave's father anxiously. "Those natives may even now have killed their captives."
"You're wrong there, Mr. Fearless," declared Stoodles, with confidence. "Listen, sir. Wasn't I once king of that fine lot of natives? Don't I know their ways? Very well, my friends, if you will look at the moon to-night you will find it on the lasht quarther. The Windjammers never kill a prisoner except from a new moon up to a full moon."
"Is that true, Pat?" asked Captain Broadbeam.
"True to the letther, sir--who knows betther than I, who have had experience? Yes, sir, they won't harm the lad or his comrades for over a week at the least, unless in a fight or an accident. Those natives who came out on the big rock had come there to cast another spell on the ship. Dave couldn't get away seawards without dropping into the sea. He couldn't fight half the tribe. He's given in quietly, as we saw, sir. They'll shut him up; that's all for the present. We'll get him out; that's all for the future. Now, captain dear, I've got something of a favor to ask of you."
"All right, Pat, what is it?"