expansive than ever as he takes another look around.

Next he's introduced proper to everybody, and inside of ten minutes
we're all sitting down to breakfast together, while J. Dudley explains
how him and Folly has been lifelong chums.

So we didn't get pinched, after all.

"Although," says the lieutenant commander, as he starts back towards
the _Petrel_, "I suppose I ought to fine you for exceeding the speed
limit."

The _Agnes_ has got under way again, and we'd stopped wavin' good-by to
the jackies, when I catches a glimpse of a head bein' poked cautious
out from under the canvas cover of one of our lifeboats. Nudgin' Vee
to look, I steps up to Mr. Ellins, who's talkin' with Auntie and Mrs.
Mumford, and points out my discovery. By that time the head has been
followed by a pair of shoulders.

Old Hickory just narrows his eyes and stares.

"Why!" gasps Mrs. Mumford, "it--it's Captain Killam!"

"Yep!" says I. "Rupert the Reckless. Only this trip he seems to be
playin' it safe, eh?"

"In hiding!" says Auntie. "All the time, too!"

"Huh!" grunts Old Hickory, watchin' Killam crawl out and slip around a
corner. But say, Mr. Ellins can make that "Huh!" of his mean a lot.
He knows when he's been buffaloed, take it from me. My guess is that
Rupert's stock is in for a bad slump. I'd quote him about thirty off
and no bids.

CHAPTER XIV

AUNTIE TAKES A NIGHT OFF

It looked like a case of watchin' out for the stick to come down.
Uh-huh! The good yacht _Agnes_ had been tied to her anchor less than
half a day when this grand treasure-hunting expedition of ours showed
symptoms of collapse. It was weak in the knees, groggy in its motions,
and had fur on its tongue. If there'd ever been any stock issued by
the Ellins-Hemmingway Exploration and Development Company, I'll bet you
could have bought in a controllin' interest for two stacks of cigarette
coupons and a handful of assorted campaign buttons.

You see, Old Hickory and Auntie had hung all their bright hopes on this
Captain Rupert Killam. They'd listened to his tale about a secret
mangrove island with a gold and jewel stuffed mound in the middle, and
they'd taken it right off the fork. His mysterious and romantic
motions had them completely buffaloed--at first.

But on the way down here Rupert's reputation as a bold, bad adventurer
had gradually been oozin' away, like a slow air leak from a tire. His
last play of hidin' his head when the _Agnes