Commander Tazewell readily agreed with the lad’s suggestions. “I’ll see you before you shove off to-night,” he said. “And don’t get hurt. Scott and his schooner aren’t worth it.”
Phil found Sydney and told him all the good news, and then sent for O’Neil and Stump.
The mate gleefully volunteered to go along.
“Can I navigate a schooner!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I bring her into Ukula harbor on the darkest tropical night I ever saw with only the white line of surf as buoys? I’ll sail her back for you, and sit on old ‘Bully’ Scott’s face while I’m doing it.”
“He’d be handy to show us where the gear is located, sir,” O’Neil said approvingly, “and besides, he knows the crew and can speak their ‘lingo.’”
The two midshipmen after having been interviewed by the executive officer, who had come to think highly of the activity of his two young subordinates, were set on shore and at once sought their friend, Alice Lee, to find out what news she had gathered from her native friends.
They found her in the hammock in the “lanai,” deep in a book. She greeted them without reserve.
“It’s about time you came,” she exclaimed. “I’ve been bursting with news for you.”
“What is it?” they both asked eagerly.
“I tried to go up on Mission Hill this afternoon and was refused,” Alice declared excitedly. “The count has established a ‘lookout’ station there. I saw half a dozen Herzovinian sailors with a long spy-glass mounted on a tripod; and I saw signal flags too,” she added.