“I surely will. You will lose nothing by going to help us,” cried Tom.
“I go. I gif you back de eight hunder’ gold crowns you send me undt you pay me my captain’s wages like I have before de Kalrye she was sink. Eh?”
“A bargain!” declared Tom. “When do we go?”
“Let dat big man give me de hand up, and we start now,” answered Skipper Karofsen placidly. “When dat man down dere want to make trouble we will not be here. Ja—yes?”
The coolness of this proposition delighted Ned immensely; and Tom was satisfied that it would be the best and wisest way out of the difficulty. He did not intend to be delayed here if he could help it.
“Guess we’d better take his tip and go,” Tom remarked with a questioning look at Ned.
“As Shakespeare once wrote, ‘there is something rotten in Denmark,’” rejoined Ned, in a low voice, peering out at the excited Bolshevist. “If the Island authorities wish to call us to account for what we do, we’d better hunt for the castaways first. Come aboard, Captain Karofsen.”
Tom motioned to Koku, who dropped his spear and club and stooped to seize the other giant’s wrist. Koku lifted and Captain Karofsen heaved himself up with surprising agility. Without using the gangplank he reached the sill.
“Mark the place we shall stop for gasoline on that chart, Captain,” said Tom, pointing to the chart table.
The next moment he signaled Brannigan to start the motors. The flying boat began to quiver throughout her length. They were about to make the jump-off.