argument, friend Pessim, I'd like to know what good you
would be, were you not alive?"

"Never mind that," said Cap'n Bill. "He isn't much good
as he is."

"I am King of this Island, allow me to say, and you're
intruding on my property," declared the little man,
scowling upon them. "If you don't like me --and I'm sure
you don't, for no one else does -- why don't you go away
and leave me to myself?"

"Well, the Ork can fly, but we can't," explained Trot,
in answer. "We don't want to stay here a bit, but I don't
see how we can get away."

"You can go back into the hole you came from."

Cap'n Bill shook his head; Trot shuddered at the
thought; the Ork laughed aloud.

"You may be King here," the creature said to Pessim,
"but we intend to run this island to suit ourselves, for
we are three and you are one, and the balance of power
lies with us."

The little man made no reply to this, although as they
walked back to the shed his face wore its fiercest scowl.
Cap'n Bill gathered a lot of leaves and, assisted by
Trot, prepared two nice beds in opposite corners of the