--the one the yacht towed
--and she quickly made sure that this was true.

Pauline turned toward the cabin to rouse the others for a real pirate
chase, when she was silenced and stunned by the sight of Filipo, the
cook, staggering out of the galley, with his bearded chin drooping on
his breast, his knees swaying under him, his arms weaving cubist
caricatures in the air and his voice raised in unintelligible song.

He was quickly followed by the Pirate, who, to Pauline's amazement,
actually presented a picture of sobriety in contrast to Filipo.

But on seeing her, Boyd looked frightened.

"They have stolen the skiff," cried Pauline.

"No, Miss," said Boyd; "they was four of 'em come aboard in one boat,
an' we let 'em take ourn ashore to bring a double load o' supplies."

Pauline was grievously disappointed. She turned her wrath upon the
musical and meandering Filipo.

"Filipo!" she demanded. "Go to bed at once."

For answer he reeled toward her.

"Cook boiled--boiled three minute," he said.

Then with a lurch he fell sprawling at her feet.

Boyd had started back to the cabin in haste and excitement. Pauline's
first instinct was to leave the inebriated man, but pity mastered her
and she stooped to lift him.

He sprang to his feet without her aid. His blue eyes looked clearly
into hers. His body towered again to its commanding height as it had
done when he was about to finish the Pirate.

He stooped and spoke rapidly, sharply in her ear. There was no pigeon
chatter. It was straight English.

But as the door of the cabin opened again and Boyd came out, the tall
form sank into itself, the knees began to rock, the arms to weave and,
staggering back up the deck, he disappeared in the cabin.

Pauline stood stupefied. She had been so startled by the sudden
transformation of the man that she had hardly understood his strident
words.

Only one thing she could remember. He had commanded her to go to bed
and bar her door. She obeyed but she could not sleep at first. It
seemed that hours had passed when a sound outside her door brought her
to her feet.

She moved to the door and softly opened it. Across the threshold lay
Filipo, wide awake.

"Go to bed," he said. Again she obeyed and this time she slept.

The next morning everything seemed outwardly as usual, the skiff had
been restored to its place astern. The Pirate was intoxicated; the
cook sober. But there was the threat of trouble in the air