to Swanson's talk that first night. What was going on
here beneath the surface? Could these old men really have all been part
of a pirate crew in other days?

"That's what it looks like," concluded Mart under his breath, as he
outlined his thoughts to Bob. Then he repressed his chum's answer, for
old Jerry's voice was once more reaching them, soft and gentle as ever.

"The mystery o' the sea, lads, wave after wave, wi' the fish down below
and us up above. Now, how'll we make out with it? Singapore?"

"Singapore nothin'!" growled Birch, his one eye blazing darkly. "No
British investigations for me, Shark Smith! No, I say let's go up to
Saigon or one o' them there French ports."

Yorke leered, his twisted mouth grimacing. "Birch is right, Shark. Keep
away from the Britishers. You lads mind the time when the _Coralie_ put
into Sarawak--"

"None of that, Yorke, none o' that!" warned Jerry, his voice piercing
like a knife. "We ain't back in 'Frisco now, remember that. Keep names
out of it, lads."

Mart thrilled excitedly as he caught a glance from Bob. Inwardly he
determined to find out more about this mysterious ship _Coralie_.

As if they had taken caution, the three old men leaned over the table
and spoke in whispers, Yorke's twisted mouth leering, and Birch's one
black eye flaming across the table at the gentle, white-haired
quartermaster. Mart noticed that they seemed to pay him deference, and
he did most of the conversing, but so softly that no word reached the
startled boys. Then the three rose, and Birch spoke in a louder voice.

"Well, Shark Smith's got a head on him, lads! That's the thing to
do--wait. Joe Swanson won't leave his old mates in a hole, neither.
Wait--that's the word!"

All three lurched off, but Bob gazed over at his chum in wild surmise.

"Mart, there's somethin' wrong, by juniper! What's in the wind?"

"Search me, Holly. Of course it looks queer--but they're all old men. I
wouldn't be s'prised if old Jerry was off his head, mumbling like he
does. As far as being pirates goes, that's all foolishness; pirates
ain't old men like them, and besides, piratin' is gone out of style
these days."

"I guess that's true, Mart. They're all old men, for a fact, and I've
noticed that Borden complains of rheumatism pretty bad. Pirates don't
have rheumatism, in any book I ever read. Still, they're a queer
gang--Birch with his one eye and Yorke with that silly-lookin' twisted
mouth of his."

"Yes, th