“I thought you were so keen for me to get out here,” I said, sourly.
“I didn’t suggest Nassau, did I?” said Tim.
“That’s the place,” I answered, “but I suppose you were a bit loony. What made you act bug-house and go over the side, hey?”
Tim looked at me strangely a moment.
“I didn’t mean you to jump right here. You can’t do it. They’ll have us back aboard to-morrow. Wait till we get to the s’uthard for wood. There’ll be a chance on the Caicos or Turk’s Island, and we go in there.”
I swam about, enjoying myself as much as possible with a rising temper at the thought of going back aboard. I began to study the question, and asked about the size of the island and the distances to the different points on the Bahama bank. Tim had been all over the bank, and knew it pretty well, and I became absorbed listening to him and forming my plans.
Suddenly it occurred to me I needed a smoke, and started for the shore to get my pipe out of my clothes. We could sit naked in the shade and enjoy life a bit while trying a scheme.
“Where the deuce did you put those clothes?” I asked Tim, who followed me.
“I never touched them. What’s the matter?”
“I don’t see them anywhere,” I answered, suspiciously.