the friends sent no money, the pirates often threw the people into the sea.
Now one sunshiny day the Doctor and Dab-Dab were walking up and down on the ship for exercise; a nice fresh wind was blowing the boat along, and everybody was happy. Presently Dab-Dab saw the sail of another ship a long way behind them on the edge of the sea. It was a red sail.
"I don't like the look of that sail," said Dab-Dab. "I have a feeling it isn't a friendly ship. I am afraid there is more trouble coming to us."
Jip, who was lying near taking a nap in the sun, began to growl and talk in his sleep.
"I smell roast beef cooking," he mumbled—"underdone roast beef—with brown gravy over it."
"Good gracious!" cried the Doctor. "What's the matter with the dog? Is he smelling in his sleep—as well as talking?"
"I suppose he is," said Dab-Dab. "All dogs can smell in their sleep."
"But what is he smelling?" asked the Doctor.
