"Well, I smell him plain, an' dat's a fact," said the mate, "but here goes."
The giant mate fell slowly outboard, then putting his hands before him he dropped straight down into the sea with hardly a splash. The captain bent over the rail and watched him as he swam quickly down, his great black form looking not unlike a turtle as it struck out vigorously with both hands and feet. Down, down it went until the shimmering light made it distorted and monstrous as the distance increased. Then it disappeared under the bend of the Bulldog's bilge.
A second diver came to the side and looked out over the smooth swell.
There was nothing in sight as far as the eye could reach save the glint of white on the distant cay to the eastward. The Gulf Stream was undisturbed by even a ripple.
In a couple of minutes a loud snort astern told of the mate's reappearance. He seized the life-line and was quickly hauled alongside. He climbed leisurely to the deck.
All hands were now assembled and waited for his report.
"Tight as a drum. There ain't no way o' gettin' into her there," said the mate after two or three long breaths.
"Well, will you try the hatchway, then?" asked the captain.
"I ain't perticular about workin' down hatchways," said the giant, with a scowl.
"Nor me either," said the man who had come to make the second trip. "They said the stuff was aft under the cabin deck," said a tall man with aquiline features, known as Sam.