things in this camp a bit more
shipshape, I promise you. . . . I've been thinking it out, lying
here: and my conclusion is, you're too much of the boss without doing
your job. . . . How long is it since you've strolled up to the
look-out?'

"'About a fortnight,' said I.

"'And that's a pretty sort of watch, eh?' he continued irritably:
'--when you know that I never missed a day. . . . I tell you, Foe,
that, after this, we'll have to come to a reckoning. One or other
has to be master on this island, and it isn't going to be _you_!

"I went up the hill obediently with the binoculars. I went up
thoughtfully. . . ."

"I came back some fifty minutes later, and said, 'You're too weak to
walk; too weak even to crawl.'

"'What's the use to tell me that?' he asked, still keeping his air of
insolence. 'Drop your bedside manner, and present your report.'

"'I will,' said I. 'One of us two has to be master on this island?
So you said, and you shall be he; sole master, Farrell, with your
damned dog. . . . There's a schooner at this moment making an offing
from the anchorage where, as I've always told you, we'd been wiser to
pitch our camp. I guess she put in to water, and I've missed her
whilst I was busy curing your body. . . . Well, better late than
never! She's hauling to north'ard, well wide: so you'll understand
I'm in something of a hurry. . . . You're on the way to recovery,
Farrell, and this makes twice that I've saved your life: but as yet
you can neither walk nor crawl, and I give you joy of your bonfire,
up yonder. In five minutes I push off, alone.'

"He raised himself slowly, staring, and fell forward grovelling,
attempting vainly to catch me by the ankles.

"'You won't--you can't! Oh, for God's pity say you don't mean it!
Say it's a joke, and I'll forgive you, though it's a cruel one.'
Then, as I broke away from the door--'Have mercy on me, Foe--have
mercy and don't leave me! _I can't do without you!_'"

"These were his last words that I heard as I plunged down the sand
and pulled in the boat's shoreline handover-fist. I had just time to
jump in and thrust off before the dog came bounding after me, barking
furiously. The brute was puzzled, but knew something to be wrong.
He even swam a few strokes, but turned back as I hit at him with a
paddle. He made around the curve of the shore, still barking. But I
had sculled through the narrows of the passage before he could reach
it. I had a sight,