bigger'n a camera, either!"

In fact, the whole machine was no larger than a good-sized camera, and
Mart decided on the spot that he would be moving-picture operator. It
was Captain Hollinger's intention to take pictures of Kuala Besut, of
his prospective gold-concession, of the whole vicinity, and of his tiger
hunts if possible, and the two boys were wild over the prospect.
Suddenly Mart turned as a quiet voice broke in from behind.

"Hm--hm--beg pardon, gentlemen!"

A stoop-shouldered, gentle-faced old man stood in the doorway, cap in
hand. He had very watery blue eyes, his expression was mild in the
extreme, and long white hair fell on his shoulders; but for his tanned,
leathery skin, Mart would have taken him for an old clerk in a bank.

"Yes?" inquired Bob. "You wanted someone here?"

"Why, I was looking for the cap'n," said the old man. His voice was
soft, but carried far. "My name's Smith, Jerry Smith, quartermaster."

"Oh, you're the Jerry Smith that's to sail with us!" Bob spoke in no
little astonishment, for the old man looked anything but a tarry sailor.
"Why, dad's gone uptown for the afternoon, Mr. Smith. I'm Bob Hollinger,
and this is Mart Judson, who goes with us."

"Pleased, gentlemen," and the other jerked his head slightly, gazing
around with mild interest. "That's a sight o' hardware, here in the main
cabin. My stars! Is the cap'n going to shoot all those weapons, young
sir?"

"Well, he hopes to," grinned Mart easily, shoving back the mop of black
hair from his brow. "Going to take moving pictures, too. I'm the
wireless operator."

"Eh?" Jerry Smith looked astonished. "Why, young sir, that is
surprising! I did not know we--we were going to have a wireless
operator!" His watery eyes blinked a little, and his soft voice dropped
to a deeper tone. "Well, well! And I was just about your age, I imagine,
when I first put to sea!"

Mart hoped for a moment that the old man was going to spin a yarn, but
instead he only heaved a sigh and mopped at his nose with a huge
bandanna.

"Well," he said to Bob, "I'm sorry to miss your father, young sir. And
would you please to tell him that the crew'll come aboard to-morrow
night, and that I'll be aboard afore then with the papers? I'll have to
sign on as quartermaster, you know, and the cap'n--"

"Eh?" Bob struck in with a frown. "Why, you're going as a guest, Mr.
Smith! Dad doesn't want you to sign on at all."

"Just Jerry, if you please!" the old man