you? What boat is this?"

In the glare of the search-light David saw the eyes of the youth
staring at him as though he feared he were in the clutch of a
madman. Wrenching himself free, the youth pointed at the
pilot-house. Above it on a blue board in letters of gold-leaf a
foot high was the name of the tug. As David read it his breath
left him, a finger of ice passed slowly down his spine. The name
he read was The Three Friends.

"THE THREE FRIENDS!" shrieked David. "She's a filibuster! She's a
pirate! Where're we going?

"To Cuba!"

David emitted a howl of anguish, rage, and protest.

"What for?" he shrieked.

The young man regarded him coldly.

"To pick bananas," he said.

"I won't go to Cuba," shouted David. "I've got to work! I'm paid
to sell machinery. I demand to be put ashore. I'll lose my job if
I'm not put ashore. I'll sue you! I'll have the law--"

David found himself suddenly upon his knees. His first thought
was that the ship had struck a rock, and then that she was
bumping herself over a succession of coral reefs. She dipped,