"Do I win?"

"No, Bilge," I said sadly, "you lose."

* * * * *

But I mustn't dwell on the days that followed--the long quiet days of
lazy dreaming on the raft, during which I slowly built up my strength,
which had been shattered by privation. They were days, dear reader,
of deep and quiet peace, and yet I cannot recall them without shedding
a tear for the brave man who made them what they were.

It was on the fifth day after that I was awakened from a sound sleep
by the bumping of the raft against the shore. I had eaten perhaps
overheartily, and had not observed the vicinity of land.

Before me was an island, the circular shape of which, with its low,
sandy shore, recalled at once its identity.

"The treasure island," I cried, "at last I am rewarded for all my
heroism."

In a fever of haste I rushed to the centre of the island. What was
the sight that confronted me? A great hollow scooped in the sand, an
empty dress-suit case lying beside it, and on a ship's plank driven
deep into the sand, the legend, "_Saucy Sally_, October, 1867." So!
the miscreants had made good the vessel, headed it for the island of
whose existence they must have learned from the chart we so
carelessly left upon the cabin table, and had plundered poor Bilge
and me of our well-earned treasure!