"How long must we remain here?" asked Sam "Can't they hurry the job somehow?" "Let us offer 'em more money to hurry," suggested Tom. The suggestion to offer more money was carried out, and the ship builders promised to have the _Rainbow_ fit for sailing by the following afternoon. The paint on the new work would not be dry, but that would not matter. On the morning of the day they were to sail a man applied to Captain Barforth for a position. He said he had been a fireman on an ocean liner, but had lost three fingers in some machinery and been discharged. "I am hard up," he pleaded. "I'll work for almost anything." The captain was kind hearted, and as the _Rainbow_ could use another deck hand he told the man to bring his luggage aboard, which the fellow did. The newcomer's name was Walt Wingate, and he did his best to make friends with everybody on board. He had a low, musical voice, and was frequently whistling popular airs. "He's an odd one," said Dick, after noticing the new deck hand several times. "He seems real nice and yet--" "You don't like him," finished Sam. "That's it, Sam." "Neither do I, and I can't tell why." "Well, he hasn't anything to do with us. If he's a good man I'm glad the captain gave him a job. It's tough luck to lose your fingers, especially if you must work for a living." By five o'clock the steam yacht had left the harbor of Nassau and was standing out to sea once more. The course was again southward, around the western extremity of Cuba. During the following days they passed numerous islands and keys, as they are called, but generally at such a distance that the shores could be seen but faintly. To make sure of what he was doing, Anderson Rover held several consultations with Captain Barforth, and Bahama Bill was closely questioned regarding the location of Treasure Isle. The old tar stuck to the story he had told so often, and went over numerous maps with the commander of the steam yacht. "He has the location pretty well fixed in his head unless the whole thing is a fairy tale," was Captain Barforth's comment. While one of these talks was going on, Dick, who was on deck, chanced to go below in a hurry. As he passed down the companionway he encountered Walt Wingate, who had been listening at the cabin doorway. "Hullo, what do you want?" demanded Dick, for the man's face had a guilty look on it. "Why--er--my handkerchief blew down here and I came down to get it," answered the new deck hand, and pointed to the cloth in question sticking out of his pocket. "Is that all?" "That's all, sir," answered Wingate, and touching his cap he slouched off. Then he turned back. "Sorry if I disturbed anybody," he added.