“We’ll run for cover!” suggested Tom, chuckling.
“‘Rover’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘cover’ but let it go at that!”
Then, with the spirit of youth and daring alert in their strange situation, they departed for their several tasks.
Over a plentiful breakfast, helping to make up for the fast of the long day on the island, they compared notes. There was a long rent in the vessel’s side, below waterline, Nicky reported, not easily to be repaired even if they could float the ship at all. Plenty of canned food and some fresh supplies, Tom stated. Five automatic pistols, two rifles and a small signaling cannon was Cliff’s list of weapons. “So far, so good,” said Nicky. “What next?”
From a little beyond the ship came a hail.
The chums became tense.
“You’re captain,” his chums told Nicky. “Go and parley!”
CHAPTER XVII
A PARLEY AND A PLAN
“Ahoy, Senorita!” came the second hail. Nicky scrambled from his wicker chair and started for the companion door; Tom looked at Cliff and then, catching his eye, glanced at the arsenal. Cliff nodded.
“I don’t know if the rifles are loaded,” Tom commented, picking one up and breaking the breach—with a shake of his head closing it. “They aren’t. But they may come in handy.” They carried the weapons as they came on deck.