trouble arising. When Birch had come within twenty
feet of the yacht, however, Mart stopped him curtly.

"Close enough, there! Now, what do you want?"

"Water, sir," pleaded the seaman respectfully. "You've got us, sir, and
you've got Jerry, there; but you ain't goin' to torture us, be you?"

"No," returned Mart. After all, he reflected, the complaint was only
just. There was no water on the island, and it would be rank torture to
maroon the four men there without either food or drink, for the
afternoon sun was at its height.

"You stay where you are, Birch," he went on. "When we've got out a
breaker of water and some biscuit, you can come in for them."

Birch nodded, and Mart went up the ladder to where Bob was waiting.
Taking the rifle from the hands of his chum, he asked Bob to get out a
breaker of water and a bag of biscuit. Bob nodded and darted forward,
while Mart remained leaning over the rail, his rifle in plain sight.

Down below, Jerry gazed at Birch solemnly, then shook his head.

"You made a fine mess o' things," he declared slowly. "A fine mess o'
things, Birch! The treasure's there, eight fathom down."

"It's your own fault," retorted the other sullenly. "Didn't we say to
send them kids ashore, hey? But you wouldn't do it, and now they've got
us."

"Yes, they've got us!" screamed old Jerry suddenly, shaking his fist as
he sat. "They've got us, you fool! Why didn't you keep your eye on 'em,
eh? You're fine mates for a man to have, you are! The minute I gets out
o' sight, you have to go and smash up everything! Nice set o' mates, you
are. Bah!"

And the disgusted quartermaster spat into the water, while Mart grinned
in enjoyment of the scene. Jerry's vehement anger was certainly
unfeigned, while Birch grew more sullen with each moment. Verily
evil-faced and villainous he looked, as he sat in the blazing sun and
leaned on his oars, and Mart shuddered to think what might have happened
to all of them had it not been for that elephant gun.

At this juncture Bob arrived with a small keg of water, which he carried
down to the landing. Then he went forward again after a bag of biscuit.
As the terrified Ah Sing was still burning joss sticks and chattering
prayers to his ancestors, Bob had to rummage about for the biscuit
himself, but he finally secured a half-emptied bag, which he carried
down and deposited on the landing below.

"Come along, Birch, and don't try any funny work," demanded Mart. "Bob,
y