CHAPTER V
STORM AND STRESS
Out into the sparkling waters of the Gulf of Mexico the sturdy cruiser, Porto Bello, ploughed her way. Laying her course in a quartering slant, partly South and partly East, Bill Sanders, who was agreed by all to be in command, shaped up a plan to round the nose of Yucatan, passing between it and the more Eastward island of Cuba.
There they turned South, and giving the reefy, island studded coast of Yucatan a wide berth because of the jagged rocky formation and the heavy surf close to shore, they forged steadily ahead. Their boat was not fast, but she was steady in heavy seas and had a good reserve of power in her heavy motor.
Henry Morgan knew the coast line very well, and Bill often consulted his judgment. They did not try to make landings or lie-to during the nights, preferring to hold on their course, well out in deep water, for every one on board was anxious to get to the coast of Honduras as quickly as possible. Tom and Nicky supplemented the work of Bill and of Henry as deckhands and sailors, watching and keeping everything clean and ship-shape. Cliff, who had a good deal of mechanical ability, soon made himself indispensable to Joe Anderson, the engineer, who was a quiet, rather moody Scotchman. The boys, without any intention of disrespect, promptly named him “Andy.” He accepted the new name without comment and, commandeering Cliff’s services in the engine room, soon had as clever an assistant as he could desire, although he gave few signs of his inward appreciation. Mr. Gray spent most of his time arranging the numerous glass beads and other tawdry, cheap ornaments and fancy trifles which would be very dear to the untutored Indians and would serve as trade items and presents to the chiefs of various tribes. The youths made a gay jaunt of their trip.
There was only one thing that clouded their delight: that was the misconduct of Henry Morgan.
“I don’t like the way Henry does, very much,” Tom confided to his two chums, as they rubbed up the brass work in the small wheelhouse, while Tom held the wheel, giving and taking a spoke or two as the little vessel felt the heavy surge of the Caribbean swells, rolling in great, lifting pulsations from the East, and heeled under the strong thrust of the trade wind. “Almost as soon as we left port I caught him with a bottle——”
“I know,” broke in Nicky. “He told me it was a ‘Mexican Tonic’ to keep him from being seasick.”
“But we know better,” Cliff spoke the thought in all three minds.
“Listen to him, now,” Tom said, disgustedly.
From the after deck came a strident, but husky roar: