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 anything to do with us. If he's a good man I'm glad
the captain gave him a job. It's tough luck to lose your fingers,
especially if you must work for a living."

By five o'clock the steam yacht had left the harbor of Nassau and was
standing out to sea once more. The course was again southward, around
the western extremity of Cuba. During the following days they passed
numerous islands and keys, as they are called, but generally at such a
distance that the shores could be seen but faintly.

To make sure of what he was doing, Anderson Rover held several
consultations with Captain Barforth, and Bahama Bill was closely
questioned regarding the location of Treasure Isle. The old tar stuck
to the story he had told so often, and went over numerous maps with the
commander of the steam yacht.

"He has the location pretty well fixed in his head--unless the whole
thing is a fairy tale," was Captain Barforth's comment.

While one of these talks was going on, Dick, who was on deck, chanced
to go below in a hurry. As he passed down the companionway he
encountered Walt Wingate, who had been listening at the cabin doorway.

"Hullo, what do you want?" demanded Dick, for the man's face had a
guilty look on it.

"Why--er--my handkerchief blew down here and I came down to get it,"
answered the new deck hand, and pointed to the cloth in question
sticking out of his pocket.

"Is that all?"

"That's all, sir," answered Wingate, and touching his cap he slouched
off. Then he turned back. "Sorry if I disturbed anybody," he added.

"Oh, I suppose it is all right," returned Dick, but he was by no means
satisfied, although he could not tell exactly why. There was something
about the new deck hand that did not "ring true." At first he thought