The Pirate Shark Part 6

The two boys looked at each other. Bob's eyes were burning, and Mart knew his own cheeks were flushed.

"Lay low," he said softly, his hand on Bob's wrist. "There's somethin'

going on here, Holly. Remember when Swanson an' Jerry met, the night we sailed?"

Bob nodded excitedly, and Mart pressed him back out of sight. The young wireless operator was more deeply alarmed than he showed, and had no scruples about listening. They were not intentionally spying, and even if they had been, he would have thought little of it.

He remembered the strange things that had already chanced--the evident acquaintance between Swanson and the rest of their crew, the significant conversation between the first mate and the quartermaster, the tales about Jerry's former life. Then there was this toast to the Pirate Shark! What did it all mean? And Bucko Tom--that was the man Jerry had "got" according to Swanson's talk that first night. What was going on here beneath the surface? Could these old men really have all been part of a pirate crew in other days?

"That's what it looks like," concluded Mart under his breath, as he outlined his thoughts to Bob. Then he repressed his chum's answer, for old Jerry's voice was once more reaching them, soft and gentle as ever.

"The mystery o' the sea, lads, wave after wave, wi' the fish down below and us up above. Now, how'll we make out with it? Singapore?"

"Singapore nothin'!" growled Birch, his one eye blazing darkly. "No British investigations for me, Shark Smith! No, I say let's go up to Saigon or one o' them there French ports."

Yorke leered, his twisted mouth grimacing. "Birch is right, Shark. Keep away from the Britishers. You lads mind the time when the _Coralie_ put into Sarawak--"

"None of that, Yorke, none o' that!" warned Jerry, his voice piercing like a knife. "We ain't back in 'Frisco now, remember that. Keep names out of it, lads."

Mart thrilled excitedly as he caught a glance from Bob. Inwardly he determined to find out more about this mysterious s.h.i.+p _Coralie_.

As if they had taken caution, the three old men leaned over the table and spoke in whispers, Yorke's twisted mouth leering, and Birch's one black eye flaming across the table at the gentle, white-haired quartermaster. Mart noticed that they seemed to pay him deference, and he did most of the conversing, but so softly that no word reached the startled boys. Then the three rose, and Birch spoke in a louder voice.

"Well, Shark Smith's got a head on him, lads! That's the thing to do--wait. Joe Swanson won't leave his old mates in a hole, neither.

Wait--that's the word!"

All three lurched off, but Bob gazed over at his chum in wild surmise.

"Mart, there's somethin' wrong, by juniper! What's in the wind?"

"Search me, Holly. Of course it looks queer--but they're all old men. I wouldn't be s'prised if old Jerry was off his head, mumbling like he does. As far as being pirates goes, that's all foolishness; pirates ain't old men like them, and besides, piratin' is gone out of style these days."

"I guess that's true, Mart. They're all old men, for a fact, and I've noticed that Borden complains of rheumatism pretty bad. Pirates don't have rheumatism, in any book I ever read. Still, they're a queer gang--Birch with his one eye and Yorke with that silly-lookin' twisted mouth of his."

"Yes, they're queer," agreed Mart thoughtfully. "I tell you, Holly, let's go back and put it up to your dad. He said he'd have more time to give us, now, and he's a mighty square sort of man."

"Yes, but we promised Jerry to keep quiet!" objected Bob hastily.

"Well, we don't have to say anythin' about the Pirate Shark, do we? That ain't what's on my mind, anyhow. I'm thinking about what they said about getting to Singapore or Saigon, and about the _Coralie_ and the _Melbourne_, and all that. If they're a gang of pirates, we want to know it. And your dad's level-headed, Holly."

To this Bob agreed, being himself in no little alarm over the things he had heard and the other things he imagined. So without more ado the two boys made their way back to the hotel, and with every step their imaginations rose higher. By the time they located Captain Hollinger in the writing room, both were flushed and bursting with their tidings.

When the captain saw them, he gave a startled exclamation.

"Good gracious! What've you boys been up to? What's the matter?"

"Come along up to the rooms," said Bob mysteriously. "We've got some news."

Captain Hollinger followed them, with laughing questions as to their evening's amus.e.m.e.nt, but neither boy would say a word until they were safely within their rooms. Then Mart whirled about excitedly.

"Say, Cap'n, do you know we got a bunch o' pirates aboard the _Seamew_?"

"We've--_what_?"

"You bet!" added Bob hastily. "Old Jerry Smith's the head of the gang, and Joe Swanson was with 'em on a pirate s.h.i.+p!"

"Look here, what's happened to you two?" exclaimed the captain wonderingly. "Are you trying to put up a joke on me?"

"Not much," retorted Mart, and plunged into their story. With interruptions and additions from his chum, he managed to finish it with some degree of coherence, Captain Hollinger listening without comment.

When they had done, he looked at Mart soberly.

"And you honestly believe those old men are pirates, eh?"

"Well, don't it look like it?" answered Mart stoutly.

Captain Hollinger looked from him to the excited Bob, then with a stifled shout of laughter he dropped into a chair. For a moment he gave way completely to a wild spasm of mirth, laughing as Mart had never seen him laugh before, while the two boys began to feel sheepish and uncomfortable.

"Pirates!" gasped the captain at length. "Pirates! Oh, this is rich! Old Jerry Smith--steady Joe Swanson--Wow! It's the best joke I ever heard!"

"Well, isn't there something in it?" queried Bob sharply. His father wiped his streaming eyes and sat up.

"Why, of course not! Can't you hear a gang of old sailors romancing and dreaming about the things they'd like to do, without going off at half c.o.c.k this way! Oh, you'll never hear the last of this, you two!"

And he went off into another fit of laughter.

"Never mind," and Mart grimaced sourly; "you wait and see. You ask Swanson some day if he ever sailed on a s.h.i.+p called the _Melbourne_."

"Of course he did!" returned the captain, to the boys' chagrin. "She was a s.h.i.+p lost at sea ten years ago--he was on his third voyage then, and drifted about in an open boat for three weeks before being picked up.

Don't I know his whole record? Look here, boys. There's not a sailor alive who hasn't had some mighty queer experiences, and you haven't taken that into consideration. I never heard of the _Coralie_, and while I admit that Jerry may have seen piratical days, and probably has, the whole thing's absurd on the face of it. Now get off to bed, and don't chase any more wild geese!"

None the less, Mart turned to Bob while they sought their own rooms.

"That's all right, Holly--but you just remember one thing. Your dad didn't know anything about that Pirate Shark yarn--"

"Oh, shut up and go to bed!" grinned Bob delightedly. "We got excited, that was all. Forget it!"

But Mart did not forget it.

CHAPTER VI

THE FAR SEAS

Honolulu Bay, with its beautiful sh.o.r.es and white houses with red roofs, faded out behind the _Seamew_ one sunny morning, and the two boys, up in the chart house with the captain, began to see wild visions of what lay before them. Taking a chart, Captain Hollinger traced out their future course across the Pacific.

"You see, boys, we can take a straight course east-south-east from the Islands. That brings us here, to the Philippines, but we'll not stop.

Going right ahead under Mindanao, we'll round up into the Sulu Sea and cut through Balabac Straits, north of Bornea. That brings us in among the coral reefs--see how thick they're marked on the chart?--and so straight across the south China Sea to Tringanu."