“That’s what I call it,” spoke Tom, grimly.

The others of the larger party of refugees now came up.  Besides Mr. and Mrs. Nestor, and Mr. Hosbrook, there was Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Anderson, friends of the millionaire; Mr. Ralph Parker, who was spoken of as a scientist, Mr. Barcoe Jenks, who seemed an odd sort of individual, always looking about suspiciously, Captain Mentor, who had been in command of the yacht, and Jake Fordam, the mate of the vessel.

“And are these all who were saved?” asked Tom, as he introduced his two friends, and told briefly of their air voyage.

“No,” answered Mr. Hosbrook, “two other boatloads, one containing most of the crew, and the other containing some of my guests, got away before our boat left.  I trust they have been rescued, but we have heard nothing about them.  However, our own lives may not long be safe, if these earthquakes continue.”

“But did I understand you to say, Mr. Swift, that you had food?” he went on.  “If you have, I will gladly pay you any price for some, especially for these two ladies, who must be faint.  I have lost all my ready cash, but if we ever reach civilization, I will—­”

“Don’t speak of such a thing as pay,” interrupted Mr. Fenwick.  “All that we have we’ll gladly share with you.  Come over to our camp.  We have enough for all, and we can cook on our gasolene stove.  Don’t speak of pay, I beg of you.”

“Ah—­er, if Mr. Hosbrook has no money, perhaps I can offer an equivalent,” broke in the man who had been introduced as Barcoe Jenks.  “I have—­er—­some securities—­” He stopped and looked about indefinitely, as though he did not know exactly what to say, and he was fumbling at a belt about his waist; a belt that might contain treasure.

“Don’t speak of reimbursing us,” went on Mr. Fenwick, with rather a suspicious glance at Mr. Jenks.  “You are welcome to whatever we have.”

“Bless my topknot; certainly, yes!” joined in Mr. Damon, eagerly.

“Well, I—­er—­I only spoke of it,” said Mr. Jenks, hesitatingly, and then he turned away.  Mr. Hosbrook looked sharply at him, but said nothing.

“Suppose we go to our camp,” proposed Tom.  “We may be able to get you up a good meal, before another earthquake comes.”

“I wonder what makes so many of them?” asked Mrs. Nestor, with a nervous shiver.

“Yes, indeed, they are terrifying!  One never knows when to expect them,” added Mrs. Anderson.

“I have a theory about them,” said Mr. Parker, the scientist, who, up to this time had spoken but little.

“A theory?” inquired Tom.

“Yes.  This island is one of the smaller of the West Indies group.  It is little known, and has seldom been visited, I believe.  But I am sure that what causes the earthquakes is that the whole island has been undermined by the sea, and it is the wash of great submarine waves and currents which cause the tremors.”