him and the pink soles of his feet flashing strangely. In an instant he had reached the masses of growth on the sea floor and the boys saw him pulling and working at a projecting ledge of vivid violet and green. Then he turned and shot up to the surface like a flash. As he broke through the water he tossed a large lump of brilliant material into the boat and clambered over the stern.

Interestedly the boys examined what he had brought and to their absolute amazement discovered that it really was coral, but as the man explained, completely concealed under the fleshy covering of the animals which resembled tiny sea anemones of wonderful tints.

But after their first momentary surprise and interest at the discovery the two boys found much more to attract them in the denizens of the mass of coral than in the coral itself. Odd red and white crabs emerged from their hiding places, a tiny fish that glittered with the dazzling hues of a fire opal flapped from under a bit of adhering seaweed, funny slug-like molluscs of intense blue and gold crawled about the mass, queer little snails were everywhere and when the boys disturbed the coral or handled it they heard odd snapping noises like lilliputian firecrackers.

For a time this puzzled them until Frank discovered to his intense delight that the sounds were made by tiny lobster-like crustaceans that dwelt in holes in the hard coral and viciously snapped their claws when disturbed.

“Say,” asked Tom presently, “weren’t you afraid of a devil fish—octopus, you know—down there?”

“Bless your soul, no, Chief!” grinned the negro. “Tha’ fellow doan’ never humbug us. We eats them down here, Chief.”

“Eat them!” exclaimed Frank in surprise. “Gee! I’d hate to eat the slimy things. But I thought they attacked divers, pulled them down with their tentacles and killed them.”

“No, sir!” declared the boatman. “Tha’s jus’ foolishness. 'Cose a big fellow might humbug a diver, but Ah ne’er knew o’ such a happenin’ an’ Ah was spongin’ fo’ ten years an’ mo’.” Then a broad grin spread over the man’s face and he shook silently as though laughing to himself over some amusing memory. “Yaas, sir,” he went on. “Come to take consideration o’ the matter Ah did know o’ one o’ tha’ fellows makin’ to fight with a diver. Yaas, sir, a almighty big fellow—jes erbout three fathoms across he was, Chief. Yaas, sir, he went fo’ to make trouble with Mr. Rawlins, Chief, jus’ fo’ to commo-date the picture, but tha’ one was a tame orctopus—made out o’ rubber an’ springs fo’ the occasion, Chief.”

“Oh, yes, we heard about that,” said Tom, “but do you know Mr. Rawlins?”

“Bless yo’ soul, yaas, sir,” the negro assured him. “’Cose Ah knows Mr. Rawlins, ev’yone here knows he. Why, Ah been we’kin fo’ Mister Rawlins fo’ mos’ two years, Chief. Does yo’ know he too, Chief?”

“Oh, slightly,” replied Frank casually, realizing that they had not adhered strictly to their motto. “But how about sharks? Don’t they attack people in the water?”

The darky fairly guffawed with merriment. “Ah speculate some folks been a yarnin’ to yo’,” he declared. “Yaas, sir, das’ it. Sharks! Lord a’mighty 'cose tha’s sharks plenty hereabouts, but no one don’ make no flust’ration 'bout those fellows, no, sir! Why, Lawd bless yo’ soul, Chief, we Conchs goes down an’ kills sharks weselves. Yaas, sir, jus’ take a knife erlong an’ cotches hoi’ o’ a fin an’ slashes of them.”

“Gosh! then it’s true after all!” cried Tom. “The purser on the ship told us that, but we wouldn’t believe it.”

But despite the boys’ desire to see a shark and their boatman’s promise to demonstrate the fact that it is an easy matter to kill a ten-foot man-eater single-handed in his native element, none of the sea tigers presented themselves for the sake of the exhibition.

“Tha’ don’ is such a plenty o’ sha’ks roun’ here 'bout as tha’ was,” the boatman informed them when the boys expressed their surprise at seeing no sharks in waters which they had imagined teemed with them.

“Yo’ see tha’ tourists an’ folks what comes here-'bout cotches he an’ shoots at he an’ causes such a flustration 'mongst ’em tha’s mos’ all scared away, Chief. Yaas, sir, I 'spec’ if yo’ wants to see sha’ks yo’ll bes’ take a cruise 'board one of tha’ spongers. Tha’s plenty o’ sha’ks roun’ erbout tha’ cays an’ the sponging grounds.”

But the boys did see an octopus or “sea cat” as the natives call them. As they were returning to Nassau they passed a fishing boat and going alongside to see what the men had caught they were shown one of the devil fishes which had just been hauled up from its home on the ocean floor. It was not a large specimen—barely five feet across its outstretched tentacles, but as it writhed and squirmed upon the sloop’s deck the boys shuddered at its sucker-covered, snake-like arms, its hideous pulpy body and its cold, cruel, lid-less, unwinking and baleful eyes.

“Gosh! how can any one eat such things!” exclaimed Tom.

“And say, just imagine being tackled by such an awful beast down under the sea!” added Frank. “I’d die of pure fright, I believe.”

Little did the boys realize that they would have a chance to test their sensations under such circumstances and little did they know that the delicious, thick, stew-like soup which they had enjoyed so much was made from the repulsive octopus.

When the boys reached Nassau they found a trim little gray destroyer anchored off the town and the American flag, flapping gently in the breeze at her stern, left no doubt as to her nationality.

“Oh, say!” cried Frank. “There she is! Gee! why weren’t we here when she came in?”

“May not be,” declared Tom. “Lots of American destroyers drop in here and we won’t miss anything anyhow. The boat’s only reaching the dock now. She must have just come in.”

By the time the boys stepped ashore the officer from the destroyer’s boat had entered a rattle-trap carriage and had driven away, while about the white-clad bluejackets in the waiting cutter were crowds of blacks, laughing and jabbering and striving to sell the sailors everything from seed necklaces and bits of coral to pineapples and mangoes.

As they pushed through the close-packed, brightly-garbed throng the boys caught a glimpse of one broad-shouldered sailor who was arguing over a bunch of bananas with an immensely fat colored woman and instantly they recognized him.

“Say, ’tis the destroyer,” exclaimed Tom. “Look, there’s the bosun’s mate who told us about the schooner. Gee, I wonder if they got her!”

Hailing a carriage, for they were too eager to hear the news to walk, the two boys were driven quickly to their hotel and hurrying to their rooms found Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson talking with an officer in a commander’s uniform.

“Hello, just in time, boys!” exclaimed Mr. Pauling as the two appeared. “Commander West just got in and was about to give us the news.”

“I’m sorry it’s not very good news,” said the officer. “In fact no news at all—as far as results are concerned. We sighted the schooner just north of Watling’s island and signaled her to heave to, but she did not pay the least attention. We couldn’t send a shot after her, you know—serious matter to fire on or near a vessel on the high seas, and she was flying the British flag. Before we could come alongside she slipped in between the reefs and we had to slow down and feel our way—dangerous channels those between the coral, you know—and by the time we rounded the next cay she’d completely disappeared. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen. Not a trace of her, if she’d sunk with all on board she could not have vanished more mysteriously. Of course we supposed that she’d slipped into some little bay or