The weather so far had been perfect, and the schooner had slipped along steadily and rapidly, most of the time carrying her full complement of canvas. The captain thought that in about two or three days more they would be in the vicinity of Martinique. Once there, to the westward of that island, they would cruise about until the cay shaped like the hump of a whale should appear on the horizon. But despite the good weather, there had been for some time past a shadow on the face of the captain which betrayed uneasiness. The young people, absorbed in their own affairs, had not noticed it, but Tyke's shrewd eyes had seen that all was not well, and one day when the captain dropped into a chair beside him, he broached the subject without ceremony. "What's troubling you, Cap'n Rufe?" he asked. "Out with it and git it off your chest." "Oh, nothing special," replied the captain evasively. "Yes there is," retorted Tyke. "You can't fool me. So let's have it." "Well, to tell you the truth," said Captain Hamilton, "I don't quite like the actions of the crew." "No more do I," said Tyke calmly. "Have you noticed it too?" "I've still got a pair of pretty good eyes in my head. But heave ahead." "Well, in the first place," said the captain, "it's about the worst set of swabs that ever called themselves sailors. Some of 'em don't seem to know the spanker boom from the jib. Of course, that isn't true of all of 'em. Perhaps half of them are fairly good men. But the rest seem to be scum and riffraff." "What did you ship the lubbers for?" asked Grimshaw. "I didn't," answered Captain Hamilton. "I was so busy with other things that I left it to Ditty." "An' there you left it to a good man!" Tyke said scornfully. "I've been keeping tabs on that Bug-eye, as they call him, since I come aboard. He's a bad actor, he is. Listen here, Cap'n Rufe----" and the old man, with a warning hand on Captain Hamilton's knee and in a low voice, repeated what he had told Drew in the hospital about the one-eyed man being at the scene of his accident. "And was it Ditty?" gasped Captain Hamilton. "Surest thing you know. An' I don't believe I dreamed he went through my pockets. What was that for, when he didn't rob me of my watch and cash?" The master of the schooner shook his head thoughtfully, making no immediate reply. "Ditty's a pretty good sailor himself, I notice," went on Tyke. "None better," assented the captain. "An' he knows a sailor when he sees one?" continued the old man. "Of course he does," the captain affirmed. "And that's what has seemed strange to me. He's often picked crews for me before, and I've never had to complain of his judgment." "Well then," concluded Tyke, "it stands to reason that if he's shipped a lot of raffraff this time, instead of decent sailors, he'd a reason for it." "It would seem so," admitted the captain uneasily. "Have you put it up to him?" asked Tyke.