was pulled on to the beach with difficulty, and
the Jew was hauled there in a state verging on the unconscious. He
looked at the fearsome surf, and shuddered openly. "How shall we get off
again?" he gasped.

"More swimming," said Kettle tersely. "And perhaps not manage it at all.
You'd better give up the game, and go off decently to-morrow morning
from the Custom House wharf."

But Mr. White, whatever might be the list of his failings, was
certainly possessed of dogged pluck, and as he had got that far with his
enterprise, did not intend to desert it. He got rid of the sea-water
that was within him, and resolutely led the way to the cable station,
which loomed square and solid through the dusk. Sheriff followed, and
Captain Kettle, with his hands in his pockets, brought up the rear. The
Krooboys, according to their orders, stayed on the beach, brought in the
boat, collected her furniture, and got all ready for relaunching.

White seemed to know the way as if he had been there before. He went up
to the building, entered through an open door, and strode quietly in his
rubber-soled shoes along a dark passage. At the end was a room in
partial darkness, and a man who watched a spot of light which darted
hither and back, and between whiles wrote upon paper. To him White went
up, and clapped a cold revolver muzzle against the nape of his neck.

"Now," he said, "I want the loan of your instrument for about an hour.
If you resist, you'll be shot. The noise of the shot will bring out the
other men on the station, and they'll be killed also. There are plenty
of us here, and we are well armed, and we intend to have our own way. If
you are not anything short of a fool, you'll go and sit on that chair,
and keep quiet till you're given leave to talk."

"I don't think I'll argue it with you," said the operator coolly. He got
up and sat where he was told, and Kettle, according to arrangement,
stood guard over him. "I suppose you malefactors know," he added, "that
there are certain pains and penalties attached to this sort of
amusement, and that you are bound to get caught quite soon, whether you
shoot me or let me go?"

Nobody answered him. White had sat down at the instrument table, and was
tapping out messages like a man well accustomed to the work.

"Of course with those black mask things over your faces I couldn't
recognize you again, even if I was put in the box; but, my good chaps,
your steamer's known, there's no getting o