't no bank on wheels, and Mr. Peth he
say back he don't care whar de money come f'om, he's gwine have it,
en he slash up wid a gun en say to come along, en come quick. Then
the others come out o' de woods, lookin' mighty mad, en I says to
mahse'f, 'Doc Bird, this ain't no place for you to be circulatin'
'round, not if yo' wants fo' to die of old age,' so I jump fo' de
boat."

"So it's a hold-up," said Locke, looking at Trask.

"You've got it," said Trask. "They set out to get gold, and can't
find it. Now they think we'll pay them a good price to get out."

"We'll get out without any help from them," said Locke.

"You better not go pullin' up no anchors in this pocket," advised
Doc, as he saw Locke look over the bows speculatively. "Yo' all
would go smack on that yer reef, the way the tide's got a set."

"How much do they want?" asked Marjorie, who was more amused than
worried at the way things had turned out.

"You'll have to ask Mr. Peth," said Doc.

"You get in the boat and go back ashore and get Dinshaw," said
Trask. "If you see any of the crew, simply say we'll take the
matter of paying them extra under advisement when we know what
their idea is."

"Mr. Trask," said Doc, solemnly, "I'll go back if you give me a
gun. I ain't 'fraid of no man what stands on two laigs if I got
shootin' things. But I ain't goin' back with my bar' hands, for
Dinshaw nor the 'Postle Paul, no, suh!"

"Oh, you want a gun, eh?" said Trask. "I'll bet you couldn't hit
the island from here with a gun."

"Show me the gun," said Doc, eagerly. "I was in the army, if yo'
all want to know. I got medals, yes, suh!"

"All right," said Trask. "Go in and serve breakfast and I'll give
you a gun. Then we'll see what you can do."

Doc made for the cabin, and Shanghai Tom followed him, to whisper
in the galley about what had happened.

"We'll be in in a minute," said Trask, and with a knowing smile
Marjorie left the deck. Trask and Locke strolled forward.

"What do you think of it?" asked the older man.

"It's a mad scheme on the face of it," said Trask. "That's why I
wouldn't undertake to say how it will turn out. But there's one
thing I'm sure of."

"What?"

"The steward is crooked. He's too anxious to find out how many guns
we have and too anxious to go back ashore. He's a spy."

"Then we wouldn't be wise to attempt to get the schooner out with
his help," suggested Locke.

"He doesn't want us to try it, that's plain," said Trask