"Golly, dat's right," observed the little darkey. "I'se helped my daddy fix sponges many a time. First off, you'se got to beat de mud out ob dem wid sticks, den you got to let dem lay foah a day or two to die, 'cause dey's alive jus' like fishes. When dey's good an' dead, you puts dem in nets an' hangs dem ober de side for de water to wash dem out clean. Den you dry dem out on deck an' string dem out on strings 'bout two yards long. Dat makes dem all ready for market 'cept for clipping de bad parts off of dem, which is done on shore. Dar ain't nothin' 'bout fixin' up sponges dat dis nigger doan know."
Just then a small boat came alongside the schooner and the boys hastened to the side to welcome the two men it contained. They were the captain and mate of the schooner anchored nearest to the "Beauty". Both were young fellows hardly out of their teens. They introduced themselves as Steve Ward, and Ray Lowe.
"We thought we'd drop over and have a little chat with you," said Ward, who was the captain. "You, of course, don't realize it yet, but an American face looks mighty good amongst this army of Greeks, especially after one has been out for a month or two. We all start out together but before the season ends we get pretty widely scattered and to meet up with another schooner with an American aboard is like coming across a long-lost brother. This is my fifth trip and I am getting pretty well hardened to the loneliness now, but the first time I was out I nearly went crazy. After we parted from the rest of the fleet, it was worse than being alone on a desert island, for I had the misery of seeing others talk, laugh and enjoy themselves without being able to understand a word. When, at last, we came across a ship with someone aboard I could talk to I nearly cried for joy. It seemed so good to be able to understand and make myself understood once more." His glance fell upon Manuel George, who was leaning against the rail, and his gray eyes narrowed.
"What made you bring that fellow with you?" he asked.
"We had to have someone along who could talk their lingo," Captain Westfield replied. "Do you know him?"
"I don't know anything good of him," said the other shortly. "I came near killing him once and I've always half regretted that I didn't do it. It was on my first trip," he explained. "It was just such another case as that young fellow's who was arrested the other day. Although I was captain, the Greeks owned the schooner, and, because I was young and inexperienced, they got the idea they could run over me and do as they pleased. Manuel was always stirring them up and encouraging them to disobey orders. One day I had some words with him about it, and,"—the young fellow's face darkened—"well, he carries a bullet in his leg yet. The others set on me and I had to lock myself up in the cabin. Likely, they would have got me in the end and thrown me overboard to feed the sharks, but we happened to come across another schooner and they had to let me go."
"He don't want to try any tricks with me," Captain Westfield declared. "I got him to talk their lingo but had him sign on as one of the crew. If he tries to act up, I'll put him at the hardest work on the schooner."
"Well, keep your eye on him," advised the other. "He has never made a trip yet without making trouble. He's a mighty bad egg and as sly and cunning as he is mean."
The two men remained for over two hours, and from them the little party learned many new and interesting things about their new business and about the Greeks.
"We have no reason to complain of a dull trip so far," Charley said, when the two Americans had left. "Only two days out and one of our crew is dead, another is supposed to be on the watch to make us trouble, and a third is a mystery worth solving, judging from the way the others treat him. If things keep on as they have started, we will have a voyage exciting enough to satisfy anyone."