grunt in most ignoble fashion. But few men could withstand Mr.
Gibney once he got to close quarters. Tabu-Tabu wrapped his long
arms around the commodore and endeavoured to smother his blows,
but Mr. Gibney would not be denied. His great fist shot upward
from the hip and connected with the cannibal's chin. Tabu-Tabu
relaxed his hold, Mr. Gibney followed with left and right to the
head in quick succession, and McGuffey was counting the fatal ten
over the fallen warrior.

Mr. Gibney grinned rather foolishly, spat, and spoke to McGuffey,
_sotto voce_: "By George, the joke ain't all on Scraggsy," he
said. Then turning to Captain Scraggs: "Help yourself to the
mustard, Scraggsy, old tarpot."

Captain Scraggs took off his hat, rolled up his sleeves, and made
a dive for the royal presence. His majesty, lacking the
scientific training of his prime minister, seized a handful of
the Scraggs mane and tore at it cruelly. A well-directed kick in
the shins, however, caused him to let go, and a moment later he
was flying up the beach with the angry Scraggs in full cry after
him. McGuffey headed the king off and rounded him up so Scraggs
could get at him, and the latter at once "dug in" like a terrier.
After five minutes of mauling and tearing Captain Scraggs was out
of breath, so he let go and stood off a few feet to size up the
situation. The wicked McGuffey was laughing immoderately, but to
Scraggs it was no laughing matter. The fact of the matter was the
king was dangerous and Scraggs had glutted himself with revenge.

"I don't want to beat an old man to death," he gasped finally.
"I'll let the scoundrel go. He's had enough and he won't fight.
Let's mosey along back to the schooner and leave them here to
amuse themselves the best way they know how."

"Right-O," said Mr. Gibney, and turned to walk down the beach to
the boat. A second later a hoarse scream of rage and terror broke
from his lips.

"What's up?" cried McGuffey, the laughter dying out of his voice,
for there was a hint of death in Mr. Gibney's cry.

"Marooned!" said the commodore hoarsely. "Those two sailors have
pulled back to the schooner, and--there--look, Mac! My Gawd!"

McGuffey looked, and his face went whiter than the foaming
breakers beyond which he could see the _Maggie II_, under full
sail, headed for the open sea. The small boat had been picked up,
and there was no doubt that at her present rate of speed the
schooner would be hull down on the horizo