," he said. "I couldn't help it, could I?"

"If you hadn't left him there he would still be alive and well."

John Trafton pulled out his red cotton handkerchief from his pocket and
began to wipe his forehead, on which the beads of perspiration were
gathering.

"Of course I wouldn't have left him there if I'd known what he would
do," he muttered.

"Did you mean to leave him there all night?" asked Bence.

"Yes, I meant it as a lesson to him," said the fisherman.

"A lesson to him? You are a fine man to give a lesson to him! You, who
spend all your earnings for drink and leave me to starve! John Trafton,
I charge you with the death of poor Robert!" exclaimed Mrs. Trafton with
startling emphasis.

Perhaps nothing more contributed to overwhelm John Trafton than the
wonderful change which had taken place in his usually gentle and
submissive wife. He returned her accusing glance with a look of
deprecation.

"Come now, Jane, be a little reasonable," he said. "You're very much
mistaken. It was only in fun I left him. I thought it would be a good
joke to leave him on the island all night. Say something for me,
Ben--there's a good fellow."

But Ben Bence was not disposed to waste any sympathy on John Trafton. He
was glad to see Trafton brought to judgment and felt like deepening his
sense of guilt rather than lightening it.

"Your wife is right," he said gravely. "If poor Bob is dead, you are
guilty of his death in the sight of God."

"But he isn't dead! It's all a false alarm. I'll get my boat and row
over to the island myself. Very likely he had gone to sleep among the
bushes and that prevented your seeing him."

There was a bare possibility of this, but Ben Bence had little faith in
it.

"Go, if you like," he said. "If you find him, it will lift a great
weight from your conscience."

John Trafton dashed to the shore, flung himself into his boat, and, with
feverish haste, began to row toward the island. He bitterly repented now
the act which had involved him in such grave responsibility.

He was perfectly sober, for his credit at the tavern was temporarily
exhausted.

Of course those who remained behind in the cabin had no hope of Robert
being found. They were forced to believe that the raft had gone to
pieces and the poor boy, in his efforts to reach the shore, had been
swept back into the ocean by the treacherous undertow and was now lying
stiff and stark at the bottom of the sea.

"What shall I ever d