Clif glanced out through the nearest port. Pedro was still crouched in the stern of his little boat.
He gave a howl of anger on catching sight of Faraday, and added, with a choice collection of Portuguese epithets:
“Wait till I catch you on shore. I fix you. I make you sorry you dive. You see, dog of a Yankee.”
“He seems excited,” observed Clif, calmly. “His mind must have given way under the strain, poor fellow——”
Nanny stooped and snatched up a wet swab. Flung with unerring aim, it caught the vociferous lad in the face and bowled him over with neatness and dispatch.
A laugh greeted the shot. It was followed by cries of rage from the half-dozen diver boys in their little boats alongside the ship.
Pedro, the leader, gave a signal, and the flotilla paddled toward the dock. Clif went below to change his clothing, after a last glance in Juanita Windom’s direction, and the episode was closed save for one thing.
Standing near one of the open ports was Judson Greene. With him was Spendly.
“Did you see that Portuguese, Spendly?” asked Judson, in an eager voice.
“Yes.”