you give it time enough. One night Hammond come
hurrying round to my sleeping-room--that is to say, my hemp bale--and
gives me a shake, and says he:

"'Turn out, you mud 'ead, I've got you a berth.'

"'Aw, go west!' says I, and turned over to go to sleep again. But he
pulled me off the bale by the leg, and that woke me up so I sensed what
he was saying. Seems he'd found a feller that wanted to ship a couple of
fo'mast hands on a little trading schooner for a trip over to the Java
Sea.

"Well, to make a long story short, we shipped with this feller, whose
name was Lazarus. I cal'late if the Lazarus in Scriptur' had been up to
as many tricks and had come as nigh being a thief as our Lazarus was,
he wouldn't have been so poor. Ourn was a shrewd rascal and nothing more
nor less than a pearl poacher. He didn't tell us that till after we sot
sail, but we was so desperate I don't know as 'twould have made much
diff'rence if he had.

"We cruised round for a spell, sort of prospecting, and then we landed
at a little one-horse coral island, where there wa'n't no inhabitants,
but where we was pretty dead sartin there was pearl oyster banks in
the lagoon. There was five of us on the schooner, a Dutchman named
Rhinelander, a Coolie cook and Lazarus and Hammond and me. We put up a
slab shanty on shore and went to work pearl fishing, keeping one eye out
for Dutch gunboats, and always having a sago palm ready to split open
so's, if we got caught, we could say we was after sago.

"Well, we done fairly good at the pearl fishing; got together quite a
likely mess of pearls, and, as 'twas part of the agreement that the crew
had a certain share in the stake, why, Hammond and me was figgering
that we was going to make enough to more'n pay us for our long spell of
starving at Singapore. Lazarus was feeling purty middling chipper, the
cook was feeding us high, and everything looked lovely.

"Rhinelander and the Coolie and the skipper used to sleep aboard the
boat, but Hammond and me liked to sleep ashore in the shanty. For one
thing, the bunks on the schooner wa'n't none too clean, and the Coolie
snored so that he'd shake the whole cabin, and start me dreaming
about cyclones, and cannons firing, and lions roaring, and all kind of
foolishness. I always did hate a snorer.

"One morning me and Hammond come out of the shanty, and, lo and behold
you! there wa'n't no schooner to be seen. That everlasting Lazarus had
put up a job on us, and h