Miss Herndon gave a little cry of alarm and sprang for the companion-stairs, down which she disappeared without taking a glance at the brute on the wet planks.  Leith picked himself up, gripped a loose backstay with his left hand and swung himself toward me, striking out viciously with his free right hand when he came within hitting distance.

The blow landed on my shoulder, and I returned the compliment with an uppercut that jerked him from his swing rope and sent him stumbling backward against the rail.  The fall stunned him for a few moments and he rolled about in the wash; then Soma, the Kanaka who jerked the knife at me, rushed from the galley door and dragged him to his feet.  The native steered him to the companionway, where he stood for a moment glaring at me as if undecided whether to continue the fight or beat a retreat, but the wild plunging of the yacht convinced him that the spot was not one where he figured to advantage, so he stumbled below.

I looked around and saw Holman clinging to the rigging, his boyish face wearing an expression of extreme pleasure.

“You’re getting wise,” he cried, as he scrambled toward me; “but don’t think you’ve walloped him.  He’ll come back at you when he has a better opportunity of beating you up.”

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

I MAKE A PROMISE

The morning following the unpleasant incident with Leith broke clear and sunny.  The Pacific, as if tired after its mad pranks of the preceding three days, was a shimmering stretch of placid blue water, and the shattered spars and loose cordage of The Waif were the only reminders of the terrific storm that had swept us before it.

Captain Newmarch set all hands at work to repair the damage, and before midday we were bowling along under as much canvas as we could spread.  The storm being directly from the southwest had not carried us from our course, and Newmarch chuckled when he had taken an observation.

“We’ll strike it in the morning,” he growled.

“What?  Penrose Island?” I asked.

“No, the Isle of Tears,” he answered sharply.

“The Isle of Tears?” I repeated.

“That’s what I said,” he remarked sourly.  “And now you know as much as I know.  It was kept a little secret by the orders of my employers, but we are so close to the spot now that I don’t think it will matter if I let the cat out of the bag.”

“And is it there that the Professor will conduct his search?” I asked.

“You had better ask that question of Professor Herndon,” he replied.  “I know nothing about what they’ll do ashore.”