Evidently he did not understand English. However, he made out that something was wanted, and ran off, and soon the mate came up, a short fat chap, who was not more than three-quarters sober.
"Capitan Marcale!" he bawled. "Que necesita V."—asking what the captain wanted.
"Hold up!" called Oliver. "You speak English. We're not going to have any Spanish just now."
"Capitan" began the mate, in astonishment. "What you wanta?" he continued.
"I—I am a prisoner," groaned the captain of the Viscount. "And the Americanos want me to turn the ship back to Hilo."
"To Hilo!"
"Yes; you'll get back to Hilo just as fast as you can," put in Oliver.
The mate stared in greater astonishment than ever. Again he started to speak in Spanish and again we interrupted him.
"The captain says to go back to Hilo," said Oliver. "Isn't that right, Captain Marcale?"
"Ye-as," came with a deep sigh. "If I must I must; but, oh, oh!" and the master of the Viscount looked the picture of misery.
"And you are to send Sam Gumbert here," said I. "Don't delay."
"Who says I am wanted?" spoke up a pleas-
