eave me on this island, would you?" inquired Wyckoff when
the boys had departed for the boat. "That would be cruel."

"But you marooned Frank here, didn't you?" asked Tom angrily. "Why would
it be any worse for you than for him? Tell me that."

"I told the men to leave him provisions and matches. I have no matches
nor provisions. I cannot make a fire with sticks, as he did," replied
the prisoner in an humble and whining tone intended to placate.

"Well," Tom considered, "we might leave you some matches and some grub.
You could find plenty of wood hereabouts, couldn't you?"

"There's plenty of wood here if one could work it up," replied Wyckoff.
"The storms have washed ashore thousands of pieces of planks and timbers
of all sorts. Why, once I came out to one of the islands and found a
fine boat washed ashore by a storm. It was perfectly sound and tight,
too. There's plenty of timber here to make one rich if he could only
salvage it and get it to market."

"Then if we leave you a box of matches and some canned goods," Tom
argued, "you'd be a lot better off than Frank was."

A shout from the direction of the Fortuna indicated that something was
taking place there. Wyckoff glanced hastily in that direction. Tom's
first impulse was to look that way, also, but his training stood him in
good stead. By a magnificent effort of will he kept his eyes fastened on
the prisoner, who stared intently toward the Fortuna as if fascinated by
what he saw. Thus they sat for a moment or two. Then Tom regained his
composure. Wyckoff glanced out of the corner of his eye narrowly at his
guard. Tom laughed.

"You didn't want the provisions badly enough to wait for them, did you,
you old fox?" he taunted. "You wanted me to look away for a minute and
then you'd have gone looking for provisions alone."

"You do me an injustice, lad," replied Wyckoff meekly.

"All right; I apologize; but the gun is in working order just the same,
and don't you forget it. It's still on the job."

Wyckoff's glance was baleful and full of venom as he controlled himself
with a visible effort. Hatred seemed to ooze from him as he sat quiet
very much against his will.

Another shout from the boat gave with its note of triumph a message that
the boys were meeting success in their efforts to get the Fortuna off
the beach. Wyckoff looked intently that way.

"Ha!" he ejaculated. "They're fetching it! Good boys!"

In spite of his resolve to keep his eyes on the p