owner.

"May I come aboard?" inquired Dick resuming his paddle.

"Ay, ay; come aboard, if ye like," was the somewhat ungracious response.

Without further parley Leslie paddled up alongside under the starboard
main channels, and, flinging his painter up to an individual who came to
the side and peered curiously down upon him over the bulwarks, scrambled
up the side as best he could in the absence of a side-ladder, and the
next moment found himself on deck.

He cast an apparently casual but really all-embracing glance round him,
and noted that the barque was evidently just an ordinary trader, with
nothing in the least remarkable about her appearance save the
extraordinary paucity of men about her decks. Under ordinary
circumstances and conditions, at this hour all hands would have been on
deck and busy about their preparations for the carrying out of the
object of their visit to the island--whatever that might be; instead of
which the man on the poop, the man who had made fast his painter for
him, and the cook--a fat-faced, evil-looking man with a most atrocious
squint--who came to the galley door and stared with malevolent curiosity
at him--were the only individuals visible. It was not, however, any
part of Leslie's policy to exhibit surprise at such an unusual condition
of affairs, so he simply advanced to the poop ladder, with the manner of
one a little uncertain how to act, and, looking up at the burly man who
stood at the head of the ladder, glowering down upon him, said--

"Good morning! Are you the captain of this barque?"

"Ay," answered the individual addressed; "I'm Cap'n Turnbull. Who may
you be, mister? and how the blazes do you come to be on that there
island? And how many more are there of ye?"

"As you see, I am alone, unfortunately," answered Leslie; "and a pretty
hard time I have had of it. But, thank God, that is all over now that
you have turned up--for I presume you will be quite willing to give me a
passage to the next port you may be calling at?"

"_Give_ ye a passage?" reiterated the burly man, scornfully; "give
nothin'! I'm a poor man, I am, and can't afford to give anything away,
not even a passage to the next port. But if you'm minded to come aboard
and _work_ your passage, you're welcome. For I'm short-handed, as I
dare say you can see; and it's easy enough to tell that you're a
sailor-man. It you wasn't you wouldn't be here, would ye?" This last
with a grin that disclosed a