ow to him."

After a moment's consideration Darrow said: "I should like to have you and
Dr. Trendon present, Captain Parkinson, while I ask Eagen one or two
questions."

"Understand one thing, Mr. Darrow," said Trendon briefly. "This is not to
be an inquisition."

"Ah," said Darrow, unmoved. "I'm to be neither defendant nor prosecutor."

"You are to respect the condition of Dr. Trendon's patient, sir," said
Captain Parkinson, with emphasis. "Outside of that, your attitude toward a
man who has twice thought of your life before his own is for you to
determine."

No little cynicism lurked in Darrow's tones as he said:

"You have confidence in Mr. Slade, alias Eagen."

"Yes," replied Captain Parkinson, in a tone that closed that topic.

"Still, I should be glad to have you gentlemen present, if only for a
moment," insisted Darrow, presently.

"Perhaps it would be as well--on account of the patient," said the surgeon
significantly.

"Very well," assented the captain.

The three went to Slade's cabin. He was lying propped up in his bunk.
Trendon entered first, followed by the captain, then Darrow.

"Here's your prize, Slade," said the surgeon.

Darrow halted, just inside the door. With an eager light in his face Slade
leaned forward and stretched out his hand.

"I couldn't believe it until I saw you, old man," he cried.

Darrow's eyebrows went up. Before Slade had time to note that there was no
response to his outstretched hand, the surgeon had jumped in and pushed
him roughly back upon his pillow.

"What did you promise?" he growled. "You were to lie still, weren't you?
And you'll do it, or out we go."

"How are you, Eagen?" drawled Darrow.

"Not Eagen. I'm done with that. They've told you, haven't they?"

Darrow nodded. "Are you the only survivor?" he inquired.

"Except yourself."

"The Nigger? Pulz? Thrackles? The captain? All drowned?"

"Not the captain. They murdered him."

"Ah," said Darrow softly. "And you--I beg your pardon--your--er--friends
disposed of the doctor in the same way?"

"Handy Solomon," replied Slade with shaking lips. "Hell's got that fiend,
if there's a hell for human fiends. They threw the doctor's body in the
surf."

"You didn't notice whether there were any papers?"

"If there were they must have been destroyed with the body when the lava
poured down the valley into the sea."

"The lava: of course," assented Darrow, with elaborate nonchalance. "Well,
he was a kind