to resent, the wind was taken out of his sails by the captain's good
nature and pleasant smile.

"Quite a little scare the men got, I suppose, when they felt the quake
this morning?" Captain Hamilton inquired genially.

"Yes, sir," replied the mate. "There was nothin' to do but to get back
to the ship. Some of 'em was so scared that they would 've swum the
lagoon, and I didn't want 'em to do that for fear of sharks."

"Quite right, Mr. Ditty," returned the captain approvingly. "That is
all."

Still Ditty lingered.

"I ordered the men in your boat to come back too," he said, eyeing the
skipper aslant.

"That was all right too," replied the captain absently, as though the
matter was of no importance. "The ship was so near that it wasn't
worth while keeping the men out there in the sun all day."

Ditty stared. This was not the strict disciplinarian that Captain
Hamilton had always been. He hesitated, opened his mouth to say
something, found nothing to say, and at last, with his ideas
disordered, went sullenly away. If he had planned to bring things to a
crisis he had signally failed.

Captain Hamilton watched the retreating back of his mate with a somber
glow in his eyes that contrasted strongly with the forced smile of a
moment before, and then retired to the cabin to go again into
conference with Grimshaw.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE GIANT AWAKES

Allen Drew had not been a party to the conference between Captain
Hamilton and Grimshaw after supper. After the strenuous exertions of
the day he had felt the need of a bath and a change of linen.

Once more clothed and feeling refreshed, Drew paced the afterdeck with
his cigar, hearing the voices of Captain Hamilton and Tyke in the
former's cabin, but having no desire just then to join them.

Although his body was rejuvenated, his mind was far from peaceful. He
had not lost hope of their finding what they had come so far to search
for; he still believed the pirate hoard to be buried on the side of the
whale's hump. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick;" but hope had not
been long enough deferred in this case to sicken any of the party of
treasure seekers. Yet there was a great sickness at the heart of Allen
Drew.

That particular incident of the afternoon that had brought the
remembrance of Parmalee so keenly to his mind, had thrown a pall over
his thoughts not easily lifted.

It had shown, too, that Parmalee's strange and awful death had strongly