elk
from the upland upon the borders of the marsh, awoke their tingling
nerves to the happy but fruitless chase. And when night came, too soon,
and they pigged together around the warm ashes of their camp-fire, under
the low lodge poles of their wigwam of dried mud, reeds, and driftwood,
with the combined odors of fish, wood-smoke, and the warm salt breath of
the marsh in their nostrils, they slept contentedly. The distant lights
of the settlement went out one by one, the stars came out, very large
and very silent, to take their places. The barking of a dog on the
nearest point was followed by another farther inland. But Jim's dog,
curled at the feet of his master, did not reply. What had HE to do with
civilization?

The morning brought some fear of consequences to Master Skinner, but no
abatement of his resolve not to return. But here he was oddly combated
by Li Tee. "S'pose you go back allee same. You tellee fam'lee canoe go
topside down--you plentee swimee to bush. Allee night in bush. Housee
big way off--how can get? Sabe?"

"And I'll leave the gun, and tell Dad that when the canoe upset the gun
got drowned," said the boy eagerly.

Li Tee nodded.

"And come again Saturday, and bring more powder and shot and a bottle
for Jim," said Master Skinner excitedly.

"Good!" grunted the Indian.

Then they ferried the boy over to the peninsula, and set him on a trail
across the marshes, known only to themselves, which would bring him
home. And when the Editor the next morning chronicled among his news,
"Adrift on the Bay--A Schoolboy's Miraculous Escape," he knew as little
what part his missing Chinese errand boy had taken in it as the rest of
his readers.

Meantime the two outcasts returned to their island camp. It may have
occurred to them that a little of the sunlight had gone from it with
Bob; for they were in a dull, stupid way fascinated by the little white
tyrant who had broken bread with them. He had been delightfully selfish
and frankly brutal to them, as only a schoolboy could be, with the
addition of the consciousness of his superior race. Yet they each
longed for his return, although he was seldom mentioned in their scanty
conversation--carried on in monosyllables, each in his own language, or
with some common English word, or more often restricted solely to signs.
By a delicate flattery, when they did speak of him it was in what they
considered to be his own language.

"Boston boy, plenty like catchee H