“So do I, Missy,” said Andrews.  “I can’t think of any good a-coming to the old man by staying aboard a craft half sunken like this one.  I think your girl is giving you good advice, Captain Sackett.”

“I think you heard me state just how I felt about the matter, Mr. Andrews,” replied the captain.  “If you’re disposed to quit, you can go in the boat.”

“Oh, no,” said the ruffian, “I intend to stay.”  And he lent such emphasis to the last word that Sackett gave him a sharp glance to see if he meant anything more.

In half an hour the steamer was passing abreast, and we were in the boat rowing hard to head her off.  We set a signal on our mast forward, and pulled desperately, but she never even slowed down, passing along half a mile distant on the calm ocean.  She must have seen us, for the day was bright and cloudless as could be.  We hailed and waved until she was a speck to the westward, leaving us alone again save for the sunken ship under our lee.

“It’s just the way with a Dago,” said Jenks.  “They always leaves a fellow just when they shouldn’t, and when I first seen that yaller flag I felt pretty sure we’d come in fer somethin’ like this.”

No one said anything further, for our disappointment was sharp.  Even Phillippi, the Portuguese, took no offence at the allusion to Dagos, but rowed in silence back to the Sovereign.

“It seems like you can’t leave us,” said Andrews, sourly, when we returned.  “There ain’t much room aboard this hooker, an’ I don’t see why you forever turn back to her when you ain’t wanted here.”

Jenks climbed up the mizzen channels, which were now no higher than the boat’s bow, and made the painter fast on deck without remark.  Chips followed him closely.

“If ye mane there’s no room aboard fer us, thin why in hell don’t ye git out th’ way an’ rid th’ ship av a useless ruffian,” said the Irishman.

Andrews scowled at him, but changed his look into a sour smile.

“By the grace of the good Lord, I never rips up a sailor for slack jaw aboard the Lord’s special appointed ship.  Maybe we’ll settle the matter of leaving later on,” said the ruffian.

“Let there be an end of this talk, sir,” said Sackett.  “Get your men to work, Mr. Andrews, and you, Mr. Rolling, get the passengers out of that boat and stand by to try to find the leak.  I don’t intend to have any more of this eternal bickering.”

Miss Sackett was helped aboard again.  As she stepped on deck she whispered, “There’s no use, Mr. Rolling.  We will have to get out.  The only trouble is that the water is gaining slowly in the cabin, and I’m afraid for papa.”

“It’s a pity he won’t desert her,” I answered; “but if we get away, Andrews and the rest will be more apt to help him honestly.  They won’t while we’re here, and he won’t force any of his men to stay and obey orders, as he should.  If he only would, we might get the ship in before a week more of it.”