They found a large and powerful motor boat that would take them out
to the ship, and, indeed, a staunch craft was needed, since there was
still a heavy swell on, from the recent storm.
"Are there many boats like this in San Juan?" asked Jack of the man
at the wheel, who spoke very good English.
"Not many. There's only one as good, and that's much larger. She's
the Tartar--and she's a beauty!"
"For charter?"
"Well, maybe. The same man owns her as owns this one, but only large
parties engage her."
"Fast and seaworthy?"
"None better."
"That's good," Jack said.
"What are you thinking of?" asked his sister.
"Tell you later," he announced briefly.
"Oh, if it wasn't for the terrible news, how lovely this trip would
be!" exclaimed Bess.
They were gliding over the deep, blue waters of the bay, and the
golden setting sun now shone aslant the harbor, pouring its beams
over the tops of the distant mountains, and through the palm
branches. A promise of fair weather followed on the wings of the
storm.
Whatever Senor Ramo might, or might not be, he certainly procured a
welcome for our friends at the Boldero. Or, rather, the note Jack
presented to the captain did.
"Ah, yes, you desire news of the shipwrecked sailors. Well, they are
still here on board. One of them is hurt, but the other can talk.
But they speak no English--I had better translate for you.
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