"You!" he gasped. "You, of all persons on earth! How did you get here?"
These words astonished Dave and he looked the man over once more. To the best of his knowledge he had never seen the fellow before.
"Do you know me?" he asked.
"Do I—I know you? Hang my toplights, what a question to ask an old friend. You look mighty young. Where's your mustache?"
"My mustache? I never had one," and Dave had to smile at the question.
The man gave a groan, and closed his eyes. "Queer—it must be my head. I thought I was aboard the old ship again, down in the South Seas. Oh, how my head hurts!"
"Do you know somebody that looks like me?" asked Dave.
"Do I? Say, I don't know anybody that looks like you—I know you!" The man waved his hand feebly. "Did you hit me on the head? It was a mean thing for an old friend to do, keelhaul me if it wasn't!" And then he lapsed into unconsciousness again.
"His mind is wandering," said Phil. "Poor chap! that crack was too much for him."
"He talked strangely enough," mused Dave. "Perhaps he knows somebody that resembles me."
"Who is this man?" asked Phil of the prisoner.
"Better ask him?" growled the criminal.
