ssionaries told them that they were surrounded by hostile
natives, who were liable to an outbreak at any hour, in which event the
only means of escape the white men possessed was the boat.

The missionaries, however, gave their consent, and Captain Gooding,
hoisting sail in the staunch centre-boarder, set sail for Poseat, where
he safely arrived, without unnecessary delay. He found the first mate
and his sailors well and in high spirits, though they were beginning to
wonder whether their captain, like the friends of Irons, had not
forgotten, and concluded to leave them to themselves.

No objection was offered to their departure, and bidding an
affectionate good-by to the Englishman, who had proven the best kind of
a friend, they returned to the missionary island. Two months later the
missionary vessel, the _Morning Star_, arrived, and carried them all to
Honolulu, which was reached in November. Thence Captain Gooding and a
part of the crew were brought by the steamer _Australia_ to San
Francisco, from which point the captain made his way to his home in
Yarmouth, where his family and friends welcomed him back as one risen
from the dead, for they had long given up hope of ever seeing him again.

AN UNPLEASANT COMPANION.

"Say, Jack, the shellbarks are droppin' thick down in Big Woods. What
a chance for a fellow to lay up a bushel or two before the crowd gets
down there in the morning."

"Wouldn't it, though, Ned!" I replied wistfully, for if there was
anything I had a fondness for, it was shellbarks.

We were trudging home to our dinner, for Ned and I lived close to the
schoolhouse, much to the envy of some less fortunate pupils who brought
their noonday meal with them in tin pails. It was a late September
Friday, and a soft golden haze lay on hillside and woodland, and the
quail were whistling in the furrows; and, as Ned spoke, I could see in
my mind's eye just how Big Woods would look that afternoon with the
soft sunlight slanting through the trees, and glimmering on the quiet
waters of the creek.

"Well, Jack, will you go?" said Ned abruptly.

"You mean will I play truant?" I asked, a little startled.

"Yes; there's no danger, Jack; we'll tell the teacher we had to stay
home to cut corn."

At first, I resisted Ned's appeal. I had played truant once before, a
long time ago, and the memory of the punishment that I received in the
woodshed at home was still strongly impressed on my memory.

But th