Three pairs of eyes were staring from the _Nautilus_ at an old tramp steamer which, two days later, had overhauled the little sailing-boat in a dead calm. “That’s a stroke of luck,” said Tempest, while the vessel was bearing down upon them. “Somehow, I don’t fancy Mr. Cresswell will ever get his _Nautilus_ back after all.” “What are you going to do?” Dave asked. “Do? Why, I’m going to heave this treasure on to that tramp steamer and sit on it till we reach civilization.” “What about the _Nautilus_?” “Let her go adrift. She isn’t worth much, anyhow, and Mr. Cresswell will be the surprisedest man living when he receives a check for five hundred dollars――or make it a thousand, if you like, for overweight. We owe him a debt of gratitude.” The steamer was now within a cable’s length of them, with her engines stopped. A dozen faces appeared over her rail. “You look lonely there. Want any help?” called a deep voice. “Glad of a passage,” Tempest replied, as a rope ladder was slung over the side. “Lower a rope, will you? There’s a box here I’d like to take along with me.” The crew of the _Seven Seas_ stared with curiosity as the trio scrambled on board. One sees strange things in those lonely waters, but not often such a strange thing as two men and a boy at the mercy of the waves in a cockle-shell of a boat. “Been on a little pleasure-trip?” asked the captain, coming forward with a smile. The engines had already started again, and the _Nautilus_, left to her doom, was dropping astern. “Shipwrecked,” Tempest replied briefly. “Much obliged to you for picking us up, Cap’n. May I ask where you are bound?” “Frisco the next stop. We’ve got a pretty full crew, but I don’t doubt we can keep you busy till we hit America.” Tempest exchanged glances with Dave, and laughed. “I think, sir,” he said, “for once we’ll enjoy the luxury of being passengers, if it’s all the same to you. We’ve had rather a rough time, one way and another, and just at present there’s no shortage of funds. But that’s another story. I’ll tell you all about it later. Meanwhile, if you could oblige us with a decent square meal, we’d appreciate it a whole lot.” “Sure!” said the captain, turning to one of the hands. “Slip below and tell Bill Barnes to fix these men up with something special as a treat.” “Barnes!” repeated Dave, with a puzzled look. “He doesn’t happen to be a comical-looking chap with one tooth and bushy eyebrows, does he?” “I guess that’s his photograph,” said the skipper, amused. “Do you know him?” Dave, hardly waiting to reply, dived after the sailor to the galley, and astonished his old friend of the _Pacific Queen_ by bursting in upon him.