He staggered around to the front of the panting animal and solemnly seized her trunk and waggled it in earnest hand-shake.

“You’re a dumb animile,” he muttered, “and you prob’ly can’t have any idea of what I’m meanin’ or sayin’.  But I want to say to you, man to elephant, that I wouldn’t swap your hind-tail—­which don’t seem to be of any use, anyway—­for the whole Smyrna fire company.  I’m sayin’ to you, frank and outspoken, that I was mad when you first come aboard.  I ask your pardon.  Of course, you don’t understand that.  But my mind is freer.  Your name ought to be changed to Proverdunce, and the United States Government ought to give you a medal bigger’n a pie-plate.”

He turned and bent a disgusted stare on the gasping men dimly outlined in the gloom.

“I’d throw you back again,” he snapped, “if it wa’n’t for givin’ the Atlantic Ocean the colic.”

One by one they staggered up from the beach grass, revolved dizzily, and with the truly homing instinct started away in the direction of the fire-flare on the higher land of the island.

Of that muddled company, he was the only one who had the least knowledge of their whereabouts or guessed that those responsible for the signal-fire were Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge.  He followed behind, steeling his soul to meet those victims of the complicated plot.  An astonished bleat from Hiram Look, who led the column, announced them.  Colonel Ward was doubled before the fire, his long arms embracing his thin knees.  Eleazar Bodge had just brought a fresh armful of driftwood to heap on the blaze.

“We thought it would bring help to us,” cried the Colonel, who could not see clearly through the smoke.  “We’ve been left here by a set of thieves and murderers.”  He unfolded himself and stood up.  “You get me in reach of a telegraph-office before nine o’clock to-morrow and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“By the long-horned heifers of Hebron!” bawled Hiram.  “We’ve come back to just the place we started from!  If you built that fire to tole us ashore here, I’ll have you put into State Prison.”

“Here they are, Bodge!” shrieked the Colonel, his teeth chattering, squirrel-like, in his passion.  “Talk about State Prison to me!  I’ll have the whole of you put there for bunco-men.  You’ve stolen fifteen thousand dollars from me.  Where is that old hell-hound that’s got my check?”

“Here are six square and responsible citizens of Smyrna that heard you make your proposition and saw you pass that check,” declared Hiram, stoutly, awake thoroughly, now that his prized plot was menaced.  “It was a trade.”

“It was a steal!” The Colonel caught sight of Cap’n Sproul on the outskirts of the group.  “You cash that check and I’ll have you behind bars.  I’ve stopped payment on it.”

“Did ye telegraft or ride to the bank on a bicycle?” inquired the Cap’n, satirically.  He came straight up to the fire, pushing the furious Colonel to one side as he passed him.  Angry as Ward was, he did not dare to resist or attack this grim man who thus came upon him, dripping, from the sea.