As Mr. Gibney looked at this strange
tableau Captain Scraggs opened his eyes, glanced up at Neils
Halvorsen, and spoke:
"Why if it ain't old squarehead Neils," he muttered wonderingly.
"If it ain't Neils, I'll go to hades or some other seaport." He
closed his eyes again and subsided into a sort of lethargy, for
he was content. He knew he was saved.
Mr. Gibney rolled over, and, struggling to his knees, leaned over
McGuffey and peered into his drawn face.
"Mac, old shipmate! Mac, speak to me. Are you alive?"
B. McGuffey, Esquire, opened a pair of glazed eyes and stared at
the commodore.
"Did we lick 'em?" he whispered. "The last I remember the king
was puttin' it all over Scraggsy. And that Tabu boy--was--no
slouch." McGuffey paused, and glanced warily around the boat,
while a dawning horror appeared in his sunken eyes. "Go back,
Neils--go back--for God's sake. There's two niggers--still--on
the--island. Bring--'em some--water. They're cannibals--Neils,
but never--mind. Get them--aboard--the poor devils--if they're
living. I--wouldn't leave a--crocodile on that--hell hole, if I
could--help it."
An hour later the Robinson Crusoe Syndicate, including the man
Friday and the Goat, were safe aboard the _Maggie II_, and Neils
Halvorsen, with the tears streaming down his bronzed cheeks, was
sparingly doling out to them a mixture of brandy and water.
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