t's coming now."

For Mallam's voice was heard once more, roaring for Bostock.

"No; he will not fire the magazine till he has had another talk to you."

"Think not, sir? I were reading in the _Mariner's Chronicle_ that
pirates always blows up their ships when things go again 'em, and he's
nothing better than a pirate, say what you will."

There was a savage roar from the beachcomber, and as Bostock hurried
along the quarter-deck and descended to the cabin entrance two shots
were fired in rapid succession.

"Big Dan go mumkull--kill a feller," whispered Jackum, as the exchange
of words came to where they stood listening.

"Drop that! D'yer hear?" roared Bostock. "Drop it, before I come and
finish you off."

"Yes; come!" snarled Mallam.

"I've a big mind to, you cowardly old thief. I want to pay you for that
crack on the head you give me from behind."

"Come down, then, you sneaking hound. Where's that doctor?"

"Too bad to move, with your cowardly shooting."

"Wish I'd killed him," growled Mallam.

"You've bit your own ugly red nose off in revenge of your face. If
you're waiting for the doctor to come and put you right you'll have to
wait a couple o' months; and then if he's a bit like me he'll finish you
off out of the way."

"Are you going to send him down?"

"No; I aren't going to send him down; but I tell you what I will do--if
you don't hand up that revolver I'll pitch a lanthorn down alight so as
to get a good aim at you, and then I'll give you two barrels o' this."

There was a few minutes' silence, and then the beachcomber began again.

"Send that Black Jackum down to me. Where's he been all this time?"

"Keeping out of your reach, you old madman," growled Bostock.

"You send him down."

As Carey listened it became plain to him that no matter how defective
the black was in speech he understood pretty well every word that was
said, for a firm sinewy hand was laid upon the lad's arm and the man
said softly, "Jackum won't go. Want 'top 'long you. Big Dan mumkull
Jackum."

There were a couple more random shots fired, eliciting raging threats
from Bostock, and then the old sailor came back to the light.

"How's the doctor, sir?" he said.

"Sleeping heavily."

"Good job too, sir," said the old sailor, with a sigh. "Wish I could go
to sleep and never know what's going on. Come much easier to be blowed
up when one didn't expect it. Wonderful how cowardly a man feels when
he knows