The main-deck hummed suddenly, and a patter of bare feet told that the entire crew had run for the foc'sle head. The skipper nipped into the mizzen rigging quick as a chipmunk. "Keep her away a point or two," he cried. "Away a point or two, sir," echoed the helmsman. "I see 'em, Mr. Green," yelled the old chap; "and just where I figured them out to be. There'll be three, there'll be three." He paused and looked down on Green. "But--but two will do me," he added cautiously. "I never pinned my faith to three." Green climbed alongside him, and even a bit higher. "Lord, sir, they're boats," he cried. "No, rocks," said the skipper. "Boats," repeated the mate, obstinately. "So they are! Damn!" cried the skipper. And then the same verdict came from aloft, and was confirmed by the entire sea jury. The disappointed captain dropped back on deck. "Now, if they were the _Palembang's_ boats," suggested Green. "No such luck," said the skipper. "Is there any one in 'em, and do they see us?" "By the same token they see us now!" shouted Green, and in a quarter of an hour the boats were alongside, and the _Simoom_ lay to. "What boats are those?" squealed Banks. "The _Palembang's_," replied a voice from the tumbling cockleshells. The skipper and the mates said "Whew!" and Banks was fairly dancing. "And where's your ship?" "Bottom of the Indian Ocean," said a voice that Banks recognised as Spiller's. "Is that you, Captain Spiller?" he inquired, with much exaggerated courtesy. "It is," growled Spiller. "Did you by any chance come across my rocks as you sailed along so pleasant?" Spiller swore in a muffled voice. "Not by your description of 'em: far from it," he replied at last. "We'll see about that," said Banks. "Now then, come under the lee quarter, and we'll have some of you aboard; the captain of the _Palembang_ last." "Whad yer mean?" cried Spiller sulkily. "What I say," said Banks softly. And when every one was out of the boats but Spiller, he stood by the line. "Now, captain, were they my rocks or not?" "No," said Spiller. "Then stay in your damned boat," cried Banks. "Cast that line off, Spiller. You won't? Then cut it, Mr. Green." Green smiled but didn't move. The skipper borrowed a knife from the nearest seaman by taking it out of its sheath. "Now, was they or not?" "No," cried Spiller. "One, two, and at three I cut," said Banks. "One--two----" "Very well, they was, then," shrieked Spiller; and the next minute he was on deck. "I'll have you sign a paper to that effect," said Banks, "and if you don't, the whole of your crew will, including your mate." Wilson, who was standing by Green, said that he would willingly, and when Spiller scowled, he scowled back. "And now, Mr. Green," cried Banks cheerfully, "since we know where they are, and can find 'em any time, you may put her on her course again. And we'll have a little thanksgiving service for all this."