out of a sketch book. These were covered with pictures of the
horse-shoe crabs,--drawn in a very amusing fashion. One sketch
showed an old crab, wearing a mob-cap and sitting up in bed,
drinking tea.

The stranger was delighted to get his belongings. He promptly
changed his wet clothes for a bathing-suit, leaving the wet things
in the sun to dry.

"Now," he said, "I'm all ready to go overboard, but it will be
just like my luck not to fall over at all."

"You stay on the boat," said the Captain, decidedly; "I've rescued
you twice, and that's enough for one day."

"All right, Captain. Though I don't mind being in the water. It's
this desert island business that scares me most to death. There
was the question of food. The--what-do-you-call--'em crabs had
all gone away before you came, and I didn't think much of eating
them cold, anyway. I had a piece of chocolate--"

He laughed and jumped up.

"Here it is," he said, fishing it out from a wet trousers' pocket.
"I was going to divide it so as to have a piece for each day.
That's the way people do when they're shipwrecked, isn't it,
Captain?"

"So they say. Never had to come to that, myself."