he tall man, "but I've no time for empty amusement
just now. I'm down here on business. I'm trying to start a new steamer
line to work this Coast and get away the monopoly from the other
companies. That boat stuck yonder--the _Indian Sheriff_ she's called--is
my venture, and she represents about all I've got, and she isn't
underwritten for a sixpence. I've been going nap or nothing on this
scheme, and at present it looks uncommon like nothing. What I'm anxious
about now, is to see if I can't make some arrangement for salvage."

"I can understand it would be useful to you."

"It might be useful to others besides me. Now, there's you, for
instance. I dare say you've got a nice little establishment ashore, and
some simple comforts, and a bit of influence in your village. But you
spoke about your wife at home in South Shields just now, and I make no
doubt that if you'd got a tidy sum of money in your pocket you'd be as
pleased as not to get home to her again?"

Captain Kettle was on the point of breaking out into explanations and
disavowals, but a thought came to him, and he refrained.

"Well," he said, "I'm waiting to hear your offer."

"Here it is, then. You go ashore now, raise your village, bring off
every nigger you can scare up, swamp the Krooboys on that steamboat and
keep her from being looted, and I solemnly promise you 25 per cent. of
her value and the value of what she has in her."

"Yes," said Kettle thoughtfully. "That's a square enough offer, and it's
made before witnesses, and I believe the courts would make you stick
to it."

"Ho!" grunted the Mate, "Robinson's a sea lawyer, is he? Courts, he
talks about."

Kettle ignored the suggestion. "Should I know your name, sir?" he asked
of the tall man.

"I'm Nicholson Sheriff. If you know Liverpool, you'll have heard of me."

"You were with Kevendales?"

"That's me. I left there two years ago, to start on my own."

"H'm," said the little sailor in the canoe. "I was master of one of
Kevendale's ships once. It was me that had misfortune with the
_Armenia_."

"By gum! are you Captain Kettle that piled up the old _Atrocity_ on
that iceberg? I'm sorry to see you come down to this, Captain."

"Captain Kettle," said the sulky Mate, "that was in the Congo Pilot
Service?"

"Yes," said Kettle.

"Then, Captain," said the Mate, "I take back what I said about you being
Robinson Crusoe. You may have met with misfortune, but, by the Lord,
you're a man all the