"Are you sent to spy on us?" demanded Tom.
"I was sent to see that you didn't cut up any tricks," answered the tar. He was terribly cross-eyed, but appeared to be rather good-natured. "You mustn't go on deck without the captain's permission."
"Can't we have any fresh air?"
"You'll have to ask the captain about that. He said I was to watch you while you had breakfast, and keep you and those other folks from quarreling."
"What other folks, the Baxters?"
"Yes."
No more was said, and soon the cook appeared with a pot full of newly made coffee and a trayful of other things. The hasty lunch had been a scanty one, and it did not interfere with the boys' appetites for what was now set before them.
"This is all right," observed Sam, when he had almost finished eating. "We couldn't have a better meal on the Swallow." He turned to the sailor. "Is the yacht still in sight?"
He spoke carelessly, but the tar knew how much he was interested and smiled suggestively.
"No sail of any kind in sight."
"Where are we bound?"
"You'll have to ask the captain about that."
"Do you mean to say you don't know?"
