," replied Jim. "It is the turn of
the tide now, and it is only a westerly wind that makes it appear
higher. All we will have to do now is to wait."

"It is a great pity, this delay," said the Spaniard warmly. "You are
anxious to be on to the rescue of your brother and his friend. Anyway, I
hope you will succeed as well in their case as you did in mine."

"In another hour we will be able to start," said Jim, "the tide will
then commence to run out."

"Where shall we stop tonight?" inquired Jo.

"Camp in the open as usual," replied Jim.

"I hope we will get up above the sea so high that it won't come within a
mile of us," said Jo, fervently.

"As to a place to stop, I will see to that," said the Spaniard. "Do not
give yourselves any uneasiness on that score."

"It's getting kind of chilly roosting up here," remarked Jo,
plaintively, "especially as the fog is coming in."

"I'll warm you," said Jim. "Put up your Dukes."

"You'll take the counts if I put up my Dukes," said Jo, who was an
inveterate punnist.

"Shut up," yelled Jim, giving his brother a hearty chug in the chest.
Then they went at it hammer and tongs, giving and receiving good hard
blows, and after ten minutes of whaling at each other, both were plenty
warm. The Spaniard looked on in mild wonder.

"You Americans love the hard exercise," he said. "I should think you
would have great pleasure in resting awhile."

"I got the best of the bout," declared Jo. "See how black and blue your
face is on this side."

"You didn't do that," protested Jim. "That was a wallop that old Neptune
handed me when he bumped my head against yonder cliff."

"Neptune! Yonder cliff!" jeered Jo. "You ought to be a story writer and
use fine words."

"Me a story writer!" growled Jim. "I ain't got so low as that, not so
long as I have got two hands to steal chickens with."

CHAPTER XXVII

ANOTHER FRIEND

"Do you not think, Senor Darlington, that it is now safe to start?"
inquired the Spaniard, who was fearful of bloodshed, not quite
understanding the boys.

"Certainly," responded Jim, "we will get Don Fernando down from his
perch and proceed."

This proved to be an easier task than getting him up. His master lowered
by the rope to his side, one scrambling leap and the horse was on the
firm wet sand of the beach, almost knocking his master over in his
eagerness to be on safe footing again. Don Sebastian now showed the gay
side of his nature, as he vaulted i