port side. We went forward together, and,
leaning well out, looked over the rail.

The missing marlinespike was swinging there, banging against the hull
with every roll of the ship. It was fastened by a rope lanyard to a
large bolt below the rail, and fastened with what Burns called a
Blackwall hitch--a sailor's knot.

CHAPTER XVI

JONES STUMBLES OVER SOMETHING

I find, from my journal, that the next seven days passed without marked
incident. Several times during that period we sighted vessels, all
outward bound, and once we were within communicating distance of a
steam cargo boat on her way to Venezuela. She lay to and sent her
first mate over to see what could be done.

He was a slim little man with dark eyes and a small mustache above a
cheerful mouth. He listened in silence to my story, and shuddered when
I showed him the jolly-boat. But we were only a few days out by that
time, and, after all, what could they do? He offered to spare us a
hand, if it could be arranged; but, Adams having recovered by that
time, we decided to get along as we were. A strange sight we must have
presented to the tidy little officer in his uniform and black tie: a
haggard, unshaven lot of men, none too clean, all suffering from strain
and lack of sleep, with nerves ready to snap; a white yacht,
motionless, her sails drooping,--for not a breath of air moved,--with
unpolished brasses and dirty decks; in charge of all, a tall youth,
unshaven like the rest, and gaunt from sickness, who hardly knew a
nautical phrase, who shook the little officer's hand with a ferocity of
welcome that made him change color, and whose uniform consisted of a
pair of dirty khaki trousers and a khaki shirt, open at the neck; and
behind us, wallowing in the trough of the sea as the Ella lay to, the
jolly-boat, so miscalled, with its sinister cargo.

The Buenos Aires went on, leaving us a bit cheered, perhaps, but none
the better off, except that she verified our bearings. The after house
had taken no notice of the incident. None of the women had appeared,
nor did they make any inquiry of the cook when he carried down their
dinner that night. As entirely as possible, during the week that had
passed, they had kept to themselves. Turner was better, I imagined;
but, the few times when Elsa Lee appeared at the companion for a breath
of air, I was off duty and missed her. I thought it was by design, and
I was desperate for a sight of her.

M