t on the sands and
jumped on it until it was a mere shapeless rag.

"By the tail of the Great Sacred Bull," he gasped, "if they don't
start in on us first I'm a Dutchman. Of all the idiots, thieves,
crimps, thugs, and pirates, Bart McGuffey, you're the worst.
Gib, you hulkin' swine, whatever did you listen to him for? It
was a crazy idea, this talk of fight. Why didn't we just drop the
critters overboard and be done with it? We got to kill 'em now
with sticks and stones in order to protect ourselves."

"Forgive me, Scraggsy, old scout," said Mr. Gibney humbly. "The
fat's in the fire now, and there ain't no use howlin' over spilt
milk."

"Shut up, you murderer," shrilled Captain Scraggs and danced once
more on his battered hat.

"Let's call a meetin' of the Robinson Crusoe Syndicate," said Mr.
Gibney.

"Second the motion," rumbled McGuffey.

"Carried," said the commodore. "The first business before the
meetin' is the organization of a expedition to chase these two
cannibals to the other end of the island. I ain't got the heart
to kill 'em, so let's chase 'em away before they get fresh with
us."

"Good idea," responded McGuffey, whereupon he picked up a rock
and threw it at the king. Mr. Gibney followed with two rocks,
Captain Scraggs screamed defiance at the enemy, and the enemy
fled in wild disorder, pursued by the syndicate. After a chase of
half a mile Mr. Gibney led his cohorts back to the beach.

"Let's build a fire--not that we need it, but just for
company--and sleep till mornin'. By that time my imagination'll
be in workin' order and I'll scheme a breakfast out of this
God-forsaken hole."

At the first hint of dawn Mr. Gibney, true to his promise, was up
and scouting for breakfast. He found some gooneys asleep on a
rocky crag and killed half a dozen of them with a club. On his
way back to camp he discovered a few handfuls of sea salt in a
crevice between some rocks, and the syndicate breakfasted an hour
later on roast gooney. It was oily and fishy but an excellent
substitute for nothing at all, and the syndicate was grateful.
The breakfast would have been cheerful, in fact, if Captain
Scraggs had not made repeated reference to his excessive thirst.
McGuffey lost patience before the meal was over, and cuffed
Captain Scraggs, who thereupon subsided with tears in his eyes.
This hurt McGuffey. It was like salt in a fresh wound, so he
patted the skipper on the back and humbly asked his pardon.
Captain