“How are you, O’Neil?” Phil inquired solicitously as the sailor saluted them.
“Never better, sir,” he answered, “but you, sir, I’m sorry to hear of the trouble you are in; and that fellow Craig, that you were counting so much on, has deserted. The men say he is too sick to go far and had been acting queer like all last evening. When the guard fell in to be marched on board this morning he was missing.”
“Too sick to go far?” questioned Phil eagerly.
“Yes, sir,” the sailor answered, “the men of the guard say he coughed all the time; they all believe he can’t live long.”
Phil turned to Sydney.
“Syd, Lazar will try to send him off by steamer. If he hasn’t gone already we may be able to catch him,” he cried hopefully. “Lazar has furnished him money and has recommended to the captain that no search be made for him.”
“There ain’t been no steamer sailing since last night,” declared O’Neil; “that steamer with the blue smoke-stack is the next one to leave; she’s flying the sailing flag now. Craig must be still in La Boca.”
“Syd,” Phil cried hurriedly, “I may be put under arrest now at any moment, but you and O’Neil will be free. It may be possible that we can outwit Lazar yet. You must go ashore and find Craig. Promise him anything if he will return and speak the truth.”
“If he is in La Boca, trust O’Neil to find him,” declared the sailor stoutly.
Phil saw the captain’s orderly approaching. His heart felt like lead: here was his summons, he felt sure.