“Doright,” Lopez commanded.  “Youall come with me while I fix these young rascals and then I want you to come back here and take that shipyard man’s scow back to him and take that skiff back to the shipyard, too.  Somebody might want them boats again.”

“Yaas, sir, Boss,” was Doright’s unvarying reply.

The boys were marched a short distance up the deserted street to a disreputable looking shanty.  Here they were forced inside and compelled to enter an inner room.

“Doright, get a piece of rope and tie these young fellers.”

“Haint got no rope, Boss,” announced Doright.  “No rope here.”

“What’ll we tie ’em with?” inquired Lopez.

“Don’t know, Boss,” replied the darky.  “Dey don’t need tyin’.”

“Oh no, they don’t,” Lopez replied sarcastically.  “They didn’t need it up in the woods, neither.  That’s why they burned my cabin down.  Now I haint got no home no more’n a rabbit.”

“Haint got no rope, Boss,” dolefully declared Doright.

“Here, take this gun while I cut up their snake skin,” cried Lopez, turning over to the negro his rifle.

He proceeded to remove from an inner pocket of his jacket the skin of the snake that had so nearly ended the life of Harry.  Cutting this into strips he quickly bound the boys’ arms and made them sit down on a bench.  Next he prepared to leave the room, taking Doright also.

“If you are good boys and don’t try to burn this place,” he said from the doorway, “I’ll bring you something to eat by and by.”

After he had closed the door the boys sat talking over the events of the day.  They were agreed that the day had been a most strenuous one and that a little sleep would be welcomed.  As they prepared to lie on the floor for what rest they might get, Harry gave vent to a chuckle of laughter.  Arnold was all attention.

“What is it, Harry?” he queried.  “What’s the joke?”

“If that man only knew what he had been missing, he wouldn’t have gone away so cheerfully,” replied Harry with another chuckle.

“I don’t seem to get you,” declared Arnold.  “I think you might tell—­” He paused.  “What was that noise?” he asked.

“I didn’t hear any noise,” replied Harry sitting up.

Through the wall came the plaintive cry, “Bob, Bob White.”

CHAPTER XVII

WHAT BURNED IN THE CABIN

“Why, that’s blasting gelatine,” Jack declared.  “One stick is enough to blow the Fortuna to pieces.  Here are one, two, three, four, five, six—­six sticks of high powered explosive lying right next to our engines.  Where would the good ship have been if that stuff had let go?  I tell you, fellows, this looks serious.”

“Serious is no name for it,” declared Tom.  “I’m scared.”

“Wonder where he got it?” mused Frank.  “It’s dangerous stuff for common folks to have.  They don’t sell it at the stores.”