indly suggestion for your own benefit."

Barry swung round and looked at him for a moment. Rawlings met his
glance with a calm, unperturbed countenance, as cigar in mouth and with
his hands in his pockets he leant against one of the awning stanchions.
Fearful of betraying himself by an outburst of temper and perhaps
ruining everything, the mate did not trust himself to speak again, and
was glad when Rawlings said--

"Ha, here is Warner coming alongside with his people. You'll find that
both he and his natives will cause us no trouble this time, Mr. Barry.
The man himself is really not a bad-hearted fellow, but his drinking
habits are very disgusting and lead him into mischief. However, he is
sorry for what has occurred and has promised me not to offend again."

"He certainly is brute enough when sober, but he's fifty times worse
when he's drunk," said Barry. "I daresay, though, that he has some
good in him, or else his niggers wouldn't let him knock them about in
the manner he does."

The captain laughed. "Yes, every one has some good points. Poor
Warner is simply his own enemy. By the way, he now wishes me to land
him at Guam, in the Ladrones, so we won't have his company all the
voyage."

Presently Warner came aft, nodded to Rawlings, and held out his hand to
the chief officer.

"Shake hands, mister. Guess I've been a bit of a hog, but I'm sorry.
It's all the fault of the whiskey."

Concealing his disgust, Barry took the proffered hand of the
treacherous ruffian and made some commonplace reply; then the three
began talking about the ship and her cargo.

Suddenly a bright flame lit up the black line of palms on the island,
and then another, as two fires shone brightly out upon the beach, and
continued to burn steadily.

"Ah," said the Greek, who just then came on deck, "the kanakas will
have gooda time to-nighta--pork, turtle, biskeet, feesh, everythings.
They are alla gooda comrade to-night too," and he showed his teeth in a
hideous grimace which was intended for a friendly smile for the chief
officer.

Supper was late that night on board the _Mahina_; for Mose, the
brown-skinned Manhiki steward, was, aided by the cook, preparing such a
supper as had never before been seen on the brig--at least so he told
Rawlings, who had cheerfully agreed that eight o'clock was not too
late. And at half-past seven Rawlings himself came below to see the
table and Mose's ideas of decoration.

"Why, Mose, you're