“One morning me and Hammond come out of the shanty, and, lo and behold you! there wa’n’t no schooner to be seen.  That everlasting Lazarus had put up a job on us, and had sneaked off in the night with the cook and the Dutchman, and took our share of the pearls with him.  I s’pose he’d cal’lated to do it from the very first.  Anyway, there we was, marooned on that little two-for-a-cent island.

“The first day we didn’t do much but cuss Lazarus up hill and down dale.  Hammond was the best at that kind of business ever I see.  He invented more’n four hundred new kind of names for the gang on the schooner, and every one of ’em was brimstone-blue.  We had fish lines in the shanty, and there was plenty of water on the island, so we knew we wouldn’t starve to death nor die of thirst, anyhow.

“I’ve mentioned that ’twas hot in them parts?  Well, that island was the hottest of ’em all.  Whew!  Don’t talk!  And, more’n that, the weather was the kind that makes you feel it’s a barrel of work to live.  First day we fished and slept.  Next day we fished less and slept more.  Third day ’twas too everlasting hot even to sleep, so we set round in the shade and fought flies and jawed each other.  Main trouble was who was goin’ to git the meals.  Land, how we did miss that Coolie cook!

“‘W’y don’t yer get to work and cook something fit to heat?’ says Hammond. ‘’Ere I broke my bloomin’ back ’auling in the fish, and you doing nothing but ’anging around and letting ’em dry hup in the ’eat.  Get to work and cook.  Blimed if I ain’t sick of these ’ere custard apples!’

“‘Go and cook yourself,’ says I.  ’I didn’t sign articles to be cook for no Johnny Bull!’

“Well, we jawed back and forth for an hour, maybe more.  Two or three times we got up to have it out, but ’twas too hot to fight, so we set down again.  Fin’lly we eat some supper, custard apples and water, and turned in.

“But ’twas too hot to sleep much, and I got up about three o’clock in the morning and went out and set down on the beach in the moonlight.  Pretty soon out comes Hammond and sets down alongside and begins to give the weather a general overhauling, callin’ it everything he could lay tongue to.  Pretty soon he breaks off in the middle of a nine-j’inted swear word and sings out: 

“‘Am I goin’ crazy, or is that a schooner?’

“I looked out into the moonlight, and there, sure enough, was a schooner, about a mile off the island, and coming dead on.  First-off we thought ’twas Lazarus coming back, but pretty soon we see ’twas a considerable smaller boat than his.

“We forgot all about how hot it was and hustled out on the reef right at the mouth of the lagoon.  I had a coat on a stick, and I waved it for a signal, and Hammond set to work building a bonfire.  He got a noble one blazing and then him and me stood and watched the schooner.

“She was acting dreadful queer.  First she’d go ahead on one tack and then give a heave over and come about with a bang, sails flapping and everything of a shake; then she’d give another slat and go off another way; but mainly she kept right on toward the island.