elf, giving directions from the bridge.

Signals were evidently exchanged between the two ships, for later,
Broome was seen to enter a small boat which was rowed toward the
Marjorie.

Jim had nothing to do for a while. He surveyed the surface of the bay
for signs of breaking fish, or the splash of a vagrant water bird,
dreaming of the possibilities built on the hope of repossessing himself
of the Sea Eagle.

Then again came the sound of voices on deck. The two captains were in
conference.

"A big storm," Jim heard Captain Broome say. "We weathered it well, but
the Swedish bark which we had sighted had been for some time in
distress, could not stand the strain and had to be abandoned."

"Then you have all the crew of the lost ship aboard?"

"What could we do but lend a hand?" said Captain Broome in an apologetic
tone, as if deploring the necessity for an ordinary humanitarian act.

"How large a crew, and who is their commander?"

"A dozen of the beggars and blessed with appetites that are insatiable.
Captain ter Tofte Luhrensen was in command. He was also the owner of the
lost vessel."

"And what do you propose to do with them?"

"Why do you ask?" was Broome's diplomatic response.

"I just thought you might have in mind the leaving of the crowd on this
island."

"Well, I might, if you wish me to."

"And I just don't wish it. I have got trouble enough with the
professor's crew."

"So Featheringstone is here? Has he located the treasure?"

"Not yet. Well, there's lots of things to talk over, my dear Broome.
Let's have a spread, a feast. Get your sister and her husband, and we
will discuss the situation over a bowl of punch."

"I'm with you, and send your crew over to the Sea Eagle. Let them have a
jollification."

Jim could but faintly hear their voices now, for the speakers had moved
aft. He had noticed one point in particular. Beauchamp had never
referred to the fact that a prisoner was confined on the deck beneath
him.

Now, to Jim's mind came the insistent need to escape, and very carefully
he examined every surface, angle and crevice of his prison. All this was
unavailing, however. Surely it was a hard fate that he must sit there so
helplessly. His only dependency evidently was upon help to come from the
outside. One thing he determined to do, however. When the door of his
cabin was opened for any purpose he would make a break for liberty, and
fight his way, if need be, single-handed.

But if