xhausted, so
bitterly discouraged that he almost wished Jones had prevailed and cut
his throat or forced him to walk the plank. Better to have fallen
asleep beneath the waves, he thought, than try to live, a hopeless and
a defeated man.

It was now past sunset and Levy mechanically set about building a fire
to warm his aching limbs and keep off any prowling beasts while he
slept. Scooping a hollow in the sand beyond the reach of the tide, he
gathered dry drift wood which he finally lighted by the aid of a spark
struck from two stones. He was hungry now and even more anxious for a
smoke than for food; at that moment he hated the crew less for making
off with the vessel in which he had had a third interest than for
casting him on this deserted shore without even the solace of his
evening pipe. Muttering angrily, he leaned over the fire to stir the
blaze; as he did so the damp string about his neck swung free and he
noticed the little lucky stone still fastened to the end.

Strangely enough, the sight of the pebble he had worn as a charm for
so many years gave him courage. His bold spirit which for a little
while had lain bruised and discouraged grew strong again; he felt that
he was not the man to submit tamely to treachery and misfortune. He
must win back all that he had lost that day, not only the stolen
vessel but his self-respect. He must not allow himself beaten.
Crouching by the fire, his chin resting on his clenched fists, his
eyes on the flames, the boy vowed not to rest until he had defeated
his enemies and secured what was his own. "I'm strong and young," he
told himself, confidently, "and so far my luck has never failed me."
And he fingered the little stone on the string about his neck. At last
the fire died down, but there was no one to stir the dying embers, for
Uriah Levy had fallen asleep upon the sands, the luck stone still
clutched between his strong, brown fingers, a confident smile upon his
lips.

In the days that followed, it was not an easy thing for young Levy to
smile confidently in the faces of those who predicted certain failure
in his undertaking. "Other merchants and commanders have suffered from
pirates and mutinous crews before your day," he was informed at every
turn. "Better ship again and look for better luck."

Kindly and well-meant advice, but Levy would have none of it. He still
smiled, though now somewhat grimly, as he went from friend to friend,
insisting that he would not fail to