would do you good. You’d learn more in a year at sea than in double the time on land.”
“So I think, sir. When do you start on your next voyage?”
“Next week.”
“In what direction shall you go?”
“I shall go to India—probably stopping at Bombay.”
“Will your course lie through the Indian Ocean?” asked Guy, eagerly.
“Yes.”
“I always wished I could sail over the Indian Ocean,” said Guy.
“Yes, it is an interesting voyage. Are you through school?”
“Yes; I finished last week.”
“Then I’ll tell you what, Guy; if your father’ll let you go, I’ll take you.”
“Oh, father, may I go?” asked Guy, in a tone of earnest appeal.
“Go to India?” exclaimed the minister, bewildered by the suggestion.
“Yes; it would make me very happy.”
In the end, Guy, seconded by the captain, carried his point, and obtained his father’s consent. He had, as we know, his own reasons for wishing to make this voyage. It was something more than a boy’s love of adventure.
The next week the Osprey sailed with Guy as a passenger. He quickly established himself as a favorite with the sailors. He was so bright, handsome, and intelligent, that he seemed like a gleam of sunshine, making the whole ship cheerful.
He cultivated the acquaintance of the crew, plying them with questions, and often might be seen engaged in an animated discussion with veteran sailors who were always ready to spin a yarn for him.
Captain Grover viewed all this with an indulgent smile.
“I am afraid, Guy,” he said one day, with a laugh, “that you are picking up so much knowledge you will try to supersede me on the next voyage.”
“It will take more than one voyage to qualify me for a captain,” returned Guy. “Still, if you need help, call on me.”
CHAPTER IV
IN THE INDIAN OCEAN
Day followed day, and week succeeded week, and the good ship Osprey kept steadily on her way. Guy was not seasick, rather to his own surprise.
“You seem to be cut out for a sailor. Guy,” said the captain.
“I don’t know about that.”
“You enjoy the sea, do you not?”
“Yes, sir; but I don’t think I should care to be a sailor.”
“You are picking up a good deal of seamanship. It won’t be long before you know every rope in the ship.”
“Knowledge doesn’t come amiss, captain. I have an inquiring mind.”
They rounded the Cape of Good Hope at length, and soon found themselves in the Indian Ocean. It would not be long before they would reach the neighborhood of the island which was the goal of Guy’s hopes and expectations.
Till now he had not thought particularly what he would do when he got there. It would be small satisfaction to see the island, if perchance he should, and not be able to stop there. What could he do?
Alone, he was quite aware that he could do nothing. It was absolutely necessary that he should make a confidant of someone, and of someone who could be of service in helping him carry out his cherished plan.
Evidently there was no one on the Osprey who answered this description except the captain; but how would the captain look upon this plan?
Captain Grover was a pleasant man, and a good friend, but how he would regard Guy’s project was something that could not be guessed.
Guy decided, however, to tell his secret and sound the captain.
Already they had passed the southern point of Madagascar, and Guy felt that there was no time to be lost.
He had free access to the captain at all times, and he took the opportunity of entering his cabin one evening when the first mate was taking his turn in commanding the vessel.
“Well, Guy, how goes it?” asked the captain, pleasantly. “I am tired. You can talk to me.”
“That is just what I want to do, captain,” said Guy.
“Heave ahead, then. I am listening. Perhaps you have some advice to give me as to the management of the vessel.”
“I have, captain. I wish you would be guided by me.”
“Well,” said Captain Grover, eyeing his young companion with curiosity, “I am getting more than I bargained for. Please favor me with your suggestions, Captain Guy.”
He said this with a pleasant smile, for he really liked his young passenger, apart from the friendship he felt for the father.
“I wish, captain, you could be induced to visit the Agalegas Islands in your course.”
“What on earth do you know about the Agalegas Islands, Guy?”
“I know, or am very confident, that one of them was used by a band of pirates as a hiding place for treasure which they had collected from those they had robbed.”
“Where did you read about this?” asked the captain, abruptly.
“Not in any book,” answered Guy, “but in a letter written by my uncle George.”
“Your sailor uncle?”
“Yes.”
“And was this your object in coming to sea with me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me know what your uncle George said. I attach no importance to it, but I have a feeling of curiosity. He was never a pirate, was he?”
“I hope not.”
“Then how could he know anything of pirate treasures?”
“I have his letter, captain. Would you mind hearing it?”
“No; but first, where did you get the letter?”
Guy told the story of his search in the attic, and his discovery of the letter in George Brandon’s chest.
“Very well. Now for the letter. Read it to me.”
In a slow, deliberate manner, in order that it might be fully understood, Guy read the letter.
The accompanying paper, however, he did not produce. He did not care to give away the whole secret unless he was assured of the captain’s co-operation.
“This is a strange yarn,” was Captain Grover’s comment, after
