ng like a quarter of a mile; and then, coming
round a sudden bend, the creek opened out into a sort of basin. On the
left bank stood two large palmetto shanties. Samson indicated that there
was our anchorage; and then, as we were almost alongside of them, the
cheery halloos of a well-known voice hailed us. It was the "King"; and,
as I answered his welcome, the morning suddenly sang for me--for there
too was Calypso, at his side.

The water ran so deep at the creek's side that we were able to moor the
_Flamingo_ right up against the bank, and, when I had jumped ashore and
greeted my friends, and the "King" had executed a brief characteristic
fantasia on the manifest advantages of having a hidden pirate's creek in
the family, he unfolded his plans, or rather that portion of them that
was necessary at the moment.

The crew of the _Flamingo,_ he said, had better stay where they were for
the present. If they were tired of sleeping aboard, there were his two
palmetto palaces, with couches of down on which to stretch their
limbs--and, for amusement--poor devils!--he swept his eyes whimsically
around that dreariest of landscapes--they might exercise their
imaginations by pretending, after the manner of John Teach, that they
were on an excursion to Hades--this was the famous River Acheron--and so
on. But, seriously, he ended, we would find some way of keeping them
from committing hari-kari and, meanwhile, we would leave them in peace,
and stroll along toward breakfast.

At that moment, Sailor rubbed his head against my knee.

"Ah!" said the "King," "the heroic canine! He, of course, must not be
left behind. We may very well need you in our counsels, eh, old fellow?"
and he made friends with Sailor in a moment, as only a man who loves
dogs can.

I believe I was second in Sailor's affection from that moment of his
meeting the "King." But then, who wouldn't have been?

So then, after a reassuring word or two with Tom and the Captain, we
went our ways toward breakfast--the "King's" tongue and Sailor's wagging
happily in concert every inch of the way.

CHAPTER XI

_An Old Enemy._

Charlie Webster's laconic note was naturally our chief topic over
breakfast. "_Tobias escaped--just heard he is on your island. Watch out.
Will follow in a day or two._" The "King" read it out, when I handed him
the note across the table.

"Your friend writes like a true man of action," he added, "like
Caesar--and also the electric tele