The only real problem was Rick's color. In spite of his deep tan he couldn't possibly pass for a Moro. He and Chahda searched the boat for something that would serve as a stain, then finally took their problem to the others. Scotty had the answer. With a broad grin he went to his suitcase and drew out a can of brown shoe polish. "Neatness pays," he proclaimed. He passed it to Chahda with a flourish. "Don't give him too high a gloss when you polish him." "How about shoes?" Zircon asked. "The polish reminded me. The pirates don't wear any." "This pirate does," Rick declared. "I'll rub the shine off, but I can't go barefoot." "Also," Chahda agreed. "Foots too tender. We could not run or fight in barefoots." When everything was in readiness except for the application of polish, Rick and Chahda took time to eat, then got into the vinta and began practicing. The craft was filthy, from years of accumulated dirt and no cleaning, and it offended Rick's nose. But more than that, it was hard to handle. He could sail in conventional craft, but the outrigger design had its own peculiarities. Slowly, as the day wore on, the two boys learned the Moro craft's ways until they could handle it fairly well. There were paddles, in case the wind failed, and Rick thought they might end up using the paddles, anyway. As they tied up after the last practice run Zircon called them to eat, then instructed them to get some sleep. None of the four had slept more than an hour at a time since the previous morning, but the big scientist and Scotty had decided to handle the MTB themselves on the way to the pirate island, so Rick and Chahda could be fresh for the night's adventure. After a meal of hot soup and crackers, the two boys climbed into their bunks and drifted off to sleep. Zircon and Scotty had already started the run toward Shan. Rick awoke with Scotty shaking him. "Time to rise, old son." The boy swung to the deck. "Where are we?" "About five miles east of the island." Scotty shook Chahda and told the Hindu boy it was time to get up, then he sat down next to Rick. "I feel funny, not going with you. Maybe I'd better go along. I could stay in the vinta, and be ready in case of trouble." Rick gave his pal a sympathetic grin. He knew how Scotty felt. "Look at it this way. If Chahda and I get caught, that leaves only you and Zircon. And you couldn't give up, even with us out of the picture." "I guess so." Scotty gave in reluctantly. "Come on. Coffee and sandwiches waiting. I'll go topside and help the professor keep a lookout." Rick and Chahda got into their outfits, then the Hindu boy carefully rubbed in polish on Rick's face, neck, arms, and hands, and his chest where it showed through the open shirt. Finally the Hindu boy stood back and admired his handiwork. "Plenty good. You make fine Moro, Rick." Rick adjusted Chahda's kris in his sash. "So are you. You'd fool the Sultan of Sulu himself."