PEARLS 227 



until one day I got a proper start. The life-line fouled 

 on something, and I found that it had taken a turn 

 round the bowsprit of a wreck. I got on top pretty 

 quick, and, having had a talk with my mate, went 

 down again. Very soon I knew the boat. It was the 



, and she had belonged to a man I had known 



very well. The strange part about the business was 

 that the boat had been burned. Her deck was gone; 

 she had burned to the water's edge and had sunk, and 

 there she rested on her keel. I knew that the owner 

 had left port some months before on a secret cruise. 

 Someone must have given him the tip, too. He was 

 well known and liked, and generally did good business. 

 My mate and I talked over the business. We wanted 

 to clean up that patch, so decided to remain a few days 

 longer before clearing out to report. I was convinced 

 that murder had been committed — that the natives 

 of the island had massacred the party and had sunk 

 the lugger. 



"While I was below next day an urgent message 

 came down. I bobbed up pretty quickly. A boat 

 was sneaking out from the beach, apparently with the 

 plan of cutting us off from our lugger, which was 

 anchored some distance off, with only a couple of boys 

 on board. You bet, we got up steam pretty quickly. 

 When we got on board we reached for our rifles, and 

 then felt safe. 



"The boat was then making straight for us, and it 

 appeared to be crowded with darkies. We had been off 

 the island for four days, and had not seen the sight of 

 a native. I knew there were plenty, and the fact that 

 they had kept away had made me a bit suspicious. 

 As the boat came along I was sure they meant mischief, 

 and was determined, no matter how friendly they 

 wanted to be, not to let one of the beggars on deck. 



