continued Matt, "Captain Sixty started to call Sadie Harris, Ysabel, but tried to explain away the break when the girl looked at him. The captain also said that Miss Harris' mother was of Spanish origin, and whoever heard of Spaniard by the name of Sixty? Furthermore, if the captain is a brother of Miss Harris' mother, then the captain ought to be a Spaniard himself."

It was hard for Carl to follow this line of reasoning, although Matt made it as clear as he could. Dick, however, grasped the point Matt had brought up.

"Shiver me!" he exclaimed. "It's a wonder I didn't see that myself. The old bucko stepped over his chalk mark, and the girl hustled him away before he could say anything more. Great kedge anchors! What sort of a deal are we in on, anyhow? The girl's yarn don't hold together, and it was Sixty himself who let the cat out of the bag. What's to be done? We could have the captain set us ashore, and then we could make our way back to New Orleans and have a talk with Townsend."

"No, I don't think we'd better do that. After all, Dick, it may be that Townsend has fixed this thing up, and that the girl and the captain are talking according to instructions."

"Townsend never told them to pull the wool over our eyes, mate. He's not that kind of a fellow."

"If it comes to that, he's not the kind of a chap, to my notion, to mix up with a man like Sixty. Still, everything may be all right. The girl knew that we were expecting word from Townsend; in fact, all her talk and actions prove that she knows more about Townsend's plans than she could possibly know if Townsend hadn't taken her into his confidence. At least, that's the way I look at it. If we had the captain of the Santa Maria put us ashore we might be spoiling Townsend's plans. For that reason I'm in favor of staying right where we are and waiting for developments. But we can be careful, pards, and keep our eyes open. If there is any crooked work on foot it will come to the surface in time."

"Aber ven id comes by der surface," spoke up Carl, with a good deal more wisdom than he generally showed, "meppy id vill be too lade to dodge drouple."

"If Miss Harris and Captain Sixty don't think we suspect anything underhand," answered Matt, "the advantage will be with us."

"Sure," averred Dick. "We can keep our own counsel and have a sharp eye to windward all the time."

"Oof Downsent vants us," continued Carl, "und oof dis ain'd vat he vants us for, den, py shinks, ve vas spoiling his blans vorse as ve vas by keeping on mit der poat."

"What's your idea, Dick?" asked Matt; "to keep on, or have the captain put us ashore and go back?"

"Our course is laid, matey," responded Dick, "so let's hang to it."

"There's no escaping Honduras after we once strike the gulf."

"Then we'll go to Honduras. It's a bally layout, any way you look at it, but the chances are that we're on the right tack."

"What have you to say, Carl?"

"I don'd t'ink der girl iss fooling us, und dot's all aboudt id. I say mit Tick dot ve keep on like ve're going, mit our vedder eyes shkinned bot' vays for preakers. Oof ve ged to Honturas, und Downsent don'd show oop, den ve can send him some caplegrams und say vere ve vas, und vy. Yah, ve hat pedder keep on."

"That's my idea. I can't see what motive any one would have for playing double with us. What enemies have we in New Orleans? And, if we had any there, why should they go to the trouble of buying tickets for us on the Santa Maria and sending us to Belize?"

"Right-o," agreed Dick. "We'll play a square game, and if any one tries to run afoul of us with anything different, why, we'll bring 'em up with a round turn. The outward trip to Honduras isn't costing us anything, anyhow."

Having arrived at this decision the boys left their stateroom and went down to their dinner.

The passenger business between New Orleans and Central America was not extensive, and there were no more than twenty people seated around the two tables in the dining room.

Matt and his friends found themselves at the captain's table, with Sixty and Miss Harris directly opposite. Miss Harris greeted them with one of her engaging smiles, and Sixty grinned and nodded his bullet-like head. But there was no talk across the board, although Carl was visibly eager for a little conversation with the girl.

Following the meal the boys strolled about the deck, hoping that either Sixty or Miss Harris would come looking for them and engage in talk which might either confirm their suspicions or else set them at rest. But nothing of the sort happened.

"They're sheering off from us," commented Dick. "Probably that's in accordance with Townsend's plan, too. I wish I knew what our work is to be."

"I've puzzled my brain over it till I'm tired," said Matt. "We've been a long while getting at the work, and while we've been waiting Townsend hasn't dropped a hint about what it was. We're just as much in the dark now as ever."

During the afternoon the Santa Maria slipped through the lower end of South Pass into the gulf, and began to roll and wallow in the heavier swell.

Carl became indisposed. He declared that he wasn't seasick, but the motion of the boat annoyed him. He made for his stateroom with the announced intention of lying down and getting himself accustomed to the pitch and tumble. Dick, in the hope of discovering the whereabouts of Sixty and the girl, strolled forward. Matt was left alone on the stretch of deck aft of the bridge. An awning sheltered him from the sun, and the breeze that wafted itself across the broad reaches of the gulf was grateful and refreshing.

All the other passengers who had been occupying deck chairs in that part of the boat had gone away.

Matt, after half an hour's wait for Dick to return, got up with the idea of looking for him. As he passed a casual glance over the foamy trail left by the Santa Maria, his keen eye detected something appearing and disappearing in the tumbling waves that captured his immediate attention.

The object glistened in the rays of the afternoon sun and looked like a reddish ball. Sometimes he could see it quite plainly for a few moments, rolling and tumbling in the waters, and then a large wave would sweep past and blot it from his sight.

The ball seemed to be following the ship, maintaining at all times the same distance.

Was it some kind of a fish? Matt asked himself. If it was, then it was a variety of fish of which he had never heard or read.

He looked around to see if there were any of the officers or deck hands in his vicinity, but there were none, and he was obliged to watch and wrestle with his curiosity.

It might be a piece of wreckage, he told himself; yet, if it was, what kept it in the wake of the Santa Maria?

He continued to hang over the rail and watch the queer red object, waiting for some of the ship's officers or men to come to that part of the boat.

Presently he heard a muffled footfall close behind him. He turned his head and saw Captain Sixty at his side. Beyond Sixty, and gliding hastily in his direction, was Miss Harris.

There was a question on Matt's lips, but it died away quickly when the youth saw the diabolical expression on Captain Sixty's face.

"Here's where you go over!" said Sixty hoarsely.

Then, before Motor Matt could make a move to defend himself, the burly scoundrel seized him in a grip of iron, lifted him bodily and flung him from the rail.

A loud cry escaped Matt's lips. It was taken up by a shrill scream from the girl, and, the next moment, by a hoarse shout from the treacherous Sixty.

"Man overboard! Man overboard!"

As Matt dropped into the lashing waves that frantic yell of Sixty's smote on his ears. Even in that perilous moment the reason for the scoundrel's alarm flashed through his brain. Matt's yell and the girl's scream had aroused the officers and crew, and there was