CHAPTER XI.
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN INTO THE FIRE.
Frank took the first watch.
It was to begin about ten o'clock that night; for both of them had
remained on deck, talking, up to that hour. The night was so comfortable
after the hot day that they disliked going into the sleeping
quarters. These happened to face the deck, however, so that the vessel
was admirably suited to cruising in tropical regions.
"Every thing seems to be going on decently right now," remarked Andy,
yawning, as he prepared to have a few hours' sleep.
"That's so," returned his chum. "But while we've got some of the
faithful ones on duty, we mustn't forget that there may be other snakes
aboard. Enrique and the little shouter may not have been all the
sympathizers with the revolutionists. And not for a minute will we relax
our vigilance."
That was Frank's way; and just now Andy fully approved of it. His heart
was so set upon having a chance to use the monoplane in the endeavor to
discover that strange cliff-enclosed valley, where his father was
imprisoned, that he did not mean to take any chances of losing out
through over confidence.
So he packed off to his berth, while Frank prepared for three hours of
lonely vigil. He expected to make the rounds just about once in so
often, and have a few words with the man at the wheel. Felipe had
declared that it was his intention to keep busy himself through the
night, since he dared not trust the wheel in the hands of an
inexperienced pilot while darkness lasted.
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