and then went off on a hunt for Sid Merrick
and the tramp steamer _Josephine_ without delay.

Nothing was discovered that night, but a little before noon of the day
following they learned that a tramp steamer had appeared in the
harbor, taken several persons on board, and then steamed away again.

"Can you tell me the name of that craft?" asked Anderson Rover of the
man who gave him this information.

"She was the _Josephine_, sir, of Charleston, Captain Sackwell."

"Was she loaded?"

"I think not, sir."

"How many persons got aboard?"

"Five or six."

"One of them a young fellow?"

"Yes, sir, and one was a fellow who was very dark."

Mr. Rover knew that Doranez was very dark, and he rightfully surmised
that the party had been made up of Merrick, Tad, Doranez, Cuffer and
Shelley.

"This is certainly a serious turn of affairs," said he to his sons.
"While we have been losing time in Philadelphia and elsewhere, Sid
Merrick has gone to work, gotten somebody to let him have this tramp
steamer, and now, in company with Doranez, is off to locate Treasure
Isle and the treasure. It looks to me as if it might be a race between
us after all."

"Yes, and the worst of it is that we are laid up for repairs," said
Dick, with almost a groan in his voice.

"How long must we remain here?" asked Sam "Can't they hurry the job
somehow?"

"Let us offer 'em more money to hurry," suggested Tom.

The suggestion to offer more money was carried out, and the ship
builders promised to have the _Rainbow_ fit for sailing by the following
afternoon. The paint on the new work would not be dry, but that would
not matter.

On the morning of the day they were to sail a man applied to Captain
Barforth for a position. He said he had been a fireman on an ocean
liner, but had lost three fingers in some machinery and been
discharged.

"I am hard up," he pleaded. "I'll work for almost anything."

The captain was kind hearted, and as the _Rainbow_ could use another
deck hand he told the man to bring his luggage aboard, which the
fellow did. The newcomer's name was Walt Wingate, and he did his best
to make friends with everybody on board. He had a low, musical voice,
and was frequently whistling popular airs.

"He's an odd one," said Dick, after noticing the new deck hand several
times. "He seems real nice and yet--"

"You don't like him," finished Sam.

"That's it, Sam."

"Neither do I, and I can't tell why."

"Well, he hasn't a