"Now then, act as quickly as you can," said Jasper Van Blott.

An order was issued for the sailors to come on deck, and all did so, and the second mate, a young man named Bob Sanders, also appeared. Then Paul Shepley issued orders to hoist the anchors and raise some of the sails.

"What does this mean, Mr. Shepley?" asked the second mate, in surprise.

"The captain has found a pa.s.sageway and wants me to take the ship out and around to the other side of the island," replied the first mate. "He wants us to be lively, too."

Bob Sanders was mystified, but, as he was not on particularly good terms with the first mate, he asked no more questions. Soon the sails were up, and Paul Shepley himself steered the bark toward the pa.s.sageway he had discovered.

"You are sure of what you are doing?" asked Jasper Van Blott, coming to the wheel. "We don't want to strike and go to the bottom."

"I wish I was as sure of the future as I am of the pa.s.sageway," answered the first mate, somewhat grimly.

"Oh, don't worry about the future," answered the former supercargo, lightly. "In a few days we'll have everything in apple-pie order."

There was a good breeze, and the bark cleared the reef with but little difficulty. Then Paul Shepley had all the sails set, and soon the _Stormy Petrel_ was leaving the island far behind.

In the meantime Captain Marshall, Dave, and the old tar were looking everywhere for Phil and Roger. They dove straight into the jungle and called out as loudly as they could. But no answer came back.

"It is queer that we can't locate them," was Dave's comment. "If they wanted us, I should think they would be watching out, wouldn't you?"

"Perhaps they are in trouble," answered the captain, gravely.

He fired his pistol as a signal, and at last came an answering shot from the lower end of the island. At once they hurried in that direction, only to find themselves cut off by a stretch of impa.s.sable marsh land.

"Reckon as how we'll have to go around," observed Billy Dill. "If we try to go through thet we'll git stuck, fer sartin!"

Going around was not so easy, and it took them nearly half an hour to cover a mile. Then the captain discharged his pistol once more, and a minute later came an answering shot but a short distance away.

"I see them--at the top of the hill!" cried Dave, and, looking ahead, the others discovered Phil and Roger at the top of the slight rise of ground, waving their handkerchiefs to attract attention. Soon the two parties were together.

"What's the news?" cried Captain Marshall, looking around to see if anybody else was present.

"No news," answered Phil. He gazed at them curiously. "What's up? You look rather excited!"

"Didn't you send for us?" gasped Dave.

"Send for you? What do you mean?" queried Roger.

"The first mate said you sent a native to the bark, asking us to come to you," said Captain Marshall.

"We sent n.o.body--we have seen no natives to-day."

There was a pause, during which each looked blankly at the others.

"I can't understand this," said Dave, slowly. "Mr. Shepley certainly delivered that message."

"It is a trick of some sort!" burst out Captain Marshall. "The very best thing we can do is to get back to the vessel without delay."

The others thought so, too, and in a moment more all were on their way to the sh.o.r.e, hurrying through the undergrowth as rapidly as the bushes and vines would permit. Phil and Roger had managed to shoot two small animals that looked like hares, but that was all.

At last they came out on the sands, and a shout of dismay went up.

"The ship is gone!"

"The _Stormy Petrel_ has sailed away and left us!"

The boys and the old sailor turned to Captain Marshall, whose face had turned white. Now it grew dark and stern.

"How could they get out of the harbor?" questioned Dave.

"Shepley must have found a pa.s.sageway," answered the captain.

"But where has the ship gone to?" queried Phil. "I can't see her anywhere."

Instead of replying, the captain of the _Stormy Petrel_ clenched his hands and compressed his lips. He was doing some deep thinking.

"I must say, this looks to me as if somebody had run off with the ship!"

declared the senator's son.

"And that is just what they have done!" cried the captain. "Oh, the rascals! the scoundrels! If I ever catch them----" He could not finish, so great was his rage.

"Run off with the ship!" burst out Dave. "How could they do that? Do you think there was a regular mutiny?"

"There may have been--anyway, the bark is gone--and we are left to shift for ourselves."

"I think I see through it," said Phil. "The first mate and Van Blott have hatched this up between them. I know they were as thick as peas--in fact, I suspect Shepley helped the supercargo to hide away on board.

They must have bought over the crew and Mr. Sanders."

"I don't think they could buy over Bob Sanders," declared the captain.

"I know him too well. He is very quiet, but I'd trust him with almost anything. But I can't say as much for all the crew. Shepley got some of the men to ship, and he most likely knew whom he was getting."

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Roger.

"I don't exactly know what to do, yet, lad. We are marooned, that is all there is to it. And it doesn't look as if they had left us anything to live on, either," added the captain, casting his eyes along the sh.o.r.e.

"Do you mean to say they have deserted us?" cried Dave.

"Doesn't it look like it?"

"And stolen the bark?"

"Yes."

Dave drew a long breath. Here was another set-back, of which he had not dreamed. If the _Stormy Petrel_ had really sailed away, not to return, what were they to do, and when would they get a chance to leave the lonely island?

"This is positively the worst yet!" groaned Roger. "The fellows who would do such a thing ought to be--be hanged! And they haven't left us a thing!"