tales which delighted both boys, though it was seldom that
he would open up to them. He seemed to take a great fancy to Mart, and
often when the boys were alone he would wander up, fill his cutty pipe,
and settle down for a chat.

The crew was a strange lot. Of the nine men, five were brown-skinned
Kanakas, but the other four were white, and seemed to be all old men,
though they moved about spryly enough. Dailey was wrinkled and leathery,
Birch had only one very black and sparkling eye, Yorke's mouth was
twisted into a perpetual smile, and Borden was a quiet little man like
old Jerry, gray-haired and respectful.

"They're a queer lookin' bunch," observed Bob one morning, as they left
the wireless house and went forward to the bridge, watching the men
sluicing down the decks forward.

"You bet," nodded Mart, laughing with sheer enjoyment of the blue sky
and bluer ocean. "Where'd you pick 'em up, Jerry?"

Both boys turned to the quartermaster, who was at the wheel in the
little house behind them. He smiled, as watches were changed and Dailey
came up to relieve him.

"Where'd I find them, Mart? Oh, I just ran across 'em. Dailey, here,
used to be on a ship wi' me, once." He looked around, and the leathery
seaman grinned slightly.

"Who'll do the diving?" asked Bob, as they walked back to the wireless
house and flung themselves into deck chairs, while old Jerry filled his
pipe.

"Two o' the Kanakas, lad. They're main good at that."

"Are you goin' hunting with us?" shot out Mart. "Tiger hunting?"

"That depends, lad, that depends," and Jerry wagged his head solemnly.
"I never killed a tiger yet. I've killed whales, though, aye, and tiger
sharks! Think of the mystery of the sea, lads--wave after wave, with the
fish down below and us up here above! Fish tell no tales, lads, fish
tell no tales. There's strange things out where we be bound for."

"What?" asked Bob eagerly. "Sharks?"

The quartermaster nodded. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, then
turned to Mart and laid a hand on the boy's knee.

"Lads, did you ever hear tell o' the Pirate Shark?"

Mart thrilled at the name, and the tone of the old man's voice gave him
a creepy feeling, as it often did.

"No!" he exclaimed delightedly, scenting a yarn. "What about him?"

"Well, I've heard as he's livin' in the very place we're going to--that
Kuala Besut, off Tringanu."

"Huh?" grunted Bob, sitting up quickly. "And us going to dive? Not
much!"

Jerry laug