he engines. It is fine!"

"What's a furnace?" inquired Arnold eagerly.

"It's a sort of a bucket made of fire clay," answered Frank. "It has a
division about half way down. Charcoal is put in on top and lighted and
the draft comes up through a hole in the side. The natives and negroes
down here use them quite extensively. They don't like iron stoves and
ranges because they don't know how to use them."

"Let's see if Wyckoff is keeping up his campfire," suggested Harry.
"I'll wager he's too excited to even think about supper."

When the boys reached the deck they saw Wyckoff capering and dancing
about on the beach wildly. He was waving his arms in an evident effort
to attract attention. A schooner was approaching from the west.

"Yacht aho-o-oy!" came a faint hail across the water.

Jack at the wheel held a steady course and reached a hand toward the
switchboard. His lips were tightly closed. Again the hail came across
the tumbling waters, but no reply was made.

A shot rang out from the schooner. The boys could see the bullet
ricochet from wave to wave and pass in front of the Fortuna.

Another shot was fired. Glass tinkled. Jack fell to the floor.

CHAPTER IX

A NIGHT ATTACK

"Oh, Jack!" cried Tom, stooping over the boy lying prone upon the pilot
house floor. "Oh, Jack, speak to me!"

Unguided by a hand at the wheel, the Fortuna fell off into the trough of
the sea and began to roll broadside on. Another shot came from the
schooner, but it went wild. The boys crowded about the form of their
fallen chum and tried to lift him to his feet. Frank was the first to
give attention to the boat.

"They're gaining on us!" he cried. "Which switch controls the power?
Let's get away from here before they kill us all!"

"Those levers in the center of the board," directed Harry, "govern the
spark and fuel. Someone get the wheel. Steer due northwest for a while
until we get straightened out!"

Frank whirled the spokes of the wheel rapidly and brought the Fortuna up
to her course, while Harry quickly operated the switches that gave new
impetus to the engines. Soon the Fortuna was cleaving the waves at full
speed. Clouds of spray were thrown far aside as she mounted the crest,
and every plunge into the trough brought a torrent of water over her
bows. Her graceful lines offered little resistance to her progress. She
leaped forward like a thing of life, rapidly leaving the schooner far
astern.

Another shot