"We must take what comes," said Dick cheerfully. "So long as we get enough to eat and are not abused I shan't say a word."
The boys had been to work about an hour when Sam saw a young fellow limping around the other end of the deck. There was some thing strangely familiar about the party, and the youngest Rover drew closer to get a better look at him.
"Dan Baxter!" he cried in astonishment. "Dan Baxter!"
At this cry the person turned and his lower jaw dropped in equal astonishment.
"Who—er—where did you come from?" he stammered.
"So this is the vessel you shipped on?" went on Sam. And then he called out: "Dick! Tom! Come here."
For a brief instant Dan Baxter's face was a study. Then a crafty look came into his eyes and he drew himself up.
"Excuse me, but you have made a mistake in your man," he said coldly.
"What's that?" came from Sam in bewilderment.
"I am not the party you just named. My name is Robert Brown."
"It is?" came from the youngest Rover,
