is Hall, before we go I'll maneuver a chance for you to get action."

The door opened, and a large, heavily built man entered. In his belt was
a heavy, long-barrelled Colt's. One quick, anxious look he gave them,
then his face wreathed in a genial smile and his hand was extended.

"Welcome, strangers. But if you don't mind my asking, how, by all that's
sacred, did you ever manage to find my island?"

"Because we were out of our course," Grief answered, shaking hands.

"My name's Hall, Swithin Hall," the other said, turning to shake Snow's
hand. "And I don't mind telling you that you're the first visitors I've
ever had."

"And this is your secret island that's had all the beaches talking for
years?" Grief answered. "Well, I know the formula now for finding it."

"How's that?" Hall asked quickly.

"Smash your chronometer, get mixed up with a hurricane, and then keep
your eyes open for cocoanuts rising out of the sea."

"And what is your name?" Hall asked, after he had laughed perfunctorily.

"Anstey--Phil Anstey," Grief answered promptly. "Bound on the _Uncle
Toby_ from the Gilberts to New Guinea, and trying to find my longitude.
This is my mate, Mr. Gray, a better navigator than I, but who has lost
his goat just the same to the chronometer."

Grief did not know his reason for lying, but he had felt the prompting
and succumbed to it. He vaguely divined that something was wrong, but
could not place his finger on it. Swithin Hall was a fat, round-faced
man, with a laughing lip and laughter-wrinkles in the corners of his
eyes. But Grief, in his early youth, had learned how deceptive this type
could prove, as well as the deceptiveness of blue eyes that screened the
surface with fun and hid what went on behind.

"What are you doing with my cook?--lost yours and trying to shanghai
him?" Hall was saying. "You'd better let him go, if you're going to have
any supper. My wife's here, and she'll be glad to meet you--dinner, she
calls it, and calls me down for misnaming it, but I'm old fashioned. My
folks always ate dinner in the middle of the day. Can't get over early
training. Don't you want to wash up? I do. Look at me. I've been working
like a dog--out with the diving crew--shell, you know. But of course you
smelt it."

V

Snow pleaded charge of the schooner, and went on board. In addition to
his repugnance at breaking salt with the man who had robbed him, it was
necessary for him to impress the in-violablen