’I said that was true, and after remarking that he too liked to live well and in style, only that, for the present, he had to be saving of every penny—­“none too many for the business!  Isn’t that so, Captain Robinson?”—­he squared his shoulders and stroked his dumpy moustache, while the notorious Robinson, coughing at his side, clung more than ever to the handle of the umbrella, and seemed ready to subside passively into a heap of old bones.  “You see, the old chap has all the money,” whispered Chester confidentially.  “I’ve been cleaned out trying to engineer the dratted thing.  But wait a bit, wait a bit.  The good time is coming.” . . .  He seemed suddenly astonished at the signs of impatience I gave.  “Oh, crakee!” he cried; “I am telling you of the biggest thing that ever was, and you . . .”  “I have an appointment,” I pleaded mildly.  “What of that?” he asked with genuine surprise; “let it wait.”  “That’s exactly what I am doing now,” I remarked; “hadn’t you better tell me what it is you want?” “Buy twenty hotels like that,” he growled to himself; “and every joker boarding in them too—­twenty times over.”  He lifted his head smartly “I want that young chap.”  “I don’t understand,” I said.  “He’s no good, is he?” said Chester crisply.  “I know nothing about it,” I protested.  “Why, you told me yourself he was taking it to heart,” argued Chester.  “Well, in my opinion a chap who . . .  Anyhow, he can’t be much good; but then you see I am on the look-out for somebody, and I’ve just got a thing that will suit him.  I’ll give him a job on my island.”  He nodded significantly.  “I’m going to dump forty coolies there—­if I’ve to steal ’em.  Somebody must work the stuff.  Oh!  I mean to act square:  wooden shed, corrugated-iron roof—­I know a man in Hobart who will take my bill at six months for the materials.  I do.  Honour bright.  Then there’s the water-supply.  I’ll have to fly round and get somebody to trust me for half-a-dozen second-hand iron tanks.  Catch rain-water, hey?  Let him take charge.  Make him supreme boss over the coolies.  Good idea, isn’t it?  What do you say?” “There are whole years when not a drop of rain falls on Walpole,” I said, too amazed to laugh.  He bit his lip and seemed bothered.  “Oh, well, I will fix up something for them—­or land a supply.  Hang it all!  That’s not the question.”

’I said nothing.  I had a rapid vision of Jim perched on a shadowless rock, up to his knees in guano, with the screams of sea-birds in his ears, the incandescent ball of the sun above his head; the empty sky and the empty ocean all a-quiver, simmering together in the heat as far as the eye could reach.  “I wouldn’t advise my worst enemy . . .”  I began.  “What’s the matter with you?” cried Chester; “I mean to give him a good screw—­that is, as soon as the thing is set going, of course.  It’s as easy as falling off a log.  Simply nothing to do; two six-shooters in his belt . . .  Surely he wouldn’t be afraid of anything forty coolies could do—­with