hem before, and
smiled, whispering something about gold, holding up his hands and
looking at them.

"He thinks the sand is gold," said Jarrow. "I looked it over and
it's no more gold than I am."

Marjorie spoke to Dinshaw, but he merely blinked at her, and she
took him away to the cabin and gave him food and drink.

"What's this Doc said about you cookin' gold out of sand?" asked
Jarrow.

"Brass filings," said Trask, promptly, and took some of the
particles from his trousers pocket and dumped them into Jarrow's
palm. "Had my suspicions of him, and wanted to see if he'd give me
a double cross. And he has the nerve to want to come back!"

Jarrow grinned and examined the grains of brass, and with a remark
that it was all a crazy business, announced his intention of
getting some sleep.

"Call me, Mr. Trask, if this calm breaks, and we'll git out. I'm
disgusted."

Dinshaw had suffered a sort of collapse, or coma, and he was put to
bed likewise. Trask managed to get up an awning, and out on deck,
where they could keep watch on shore, they lunched in comparative
comfort.

Locke, now satisfied that the whole venture was a mad sort of lark,
took it all in jocular mood, and chaffed Marjorie about her desire
to go adventuring in the tropics. But Trask knew that he had been
much more worried than either himself or Marjorie, and that his
sallies were the result of his relief from strain about how things
would turn out for them.

Shanghai Tom had become the pet of the trio, and while he
maintained his outward imperturbability, it was evident that he was
quite proud of his exploit in overcoming and disposing of the
treacherous Doc Bird. Trask had promised him a reward on their
return to Manila, at which he had remarked, "Me no catchum for
cash," and shook his head. The Chinaman either from pique at the
crew's total disregard of him in their plans or from a real liking
for the passengers themselves had lined himself up on the side of
the Lockes and Trask.

The crew deserted their fire and took to the jungle, leaving a pile
of smouldering ashes on the sand, and during the afternoon there
was nothing to be seen of them. The dinghy was in plain sight,
pulled up on the beach, just beyond where they had essayed their
attempts at reducing ore by the "cooking" method.

Trask managed to get a nap lying in a steamer chair under his
improvised awning, for it was agreed that if they had to remain at
their anchorage for the night