Hal rolled over, yawning, and then opened his eyes and looked about him blankly. Through a doorway a glare of blue sea and golden sunlight smote his eyes. Where was he? He sat up and stared. Then recollection returned and he reached over and stirred Bee into wakefulness.

“Where’s Jack?” he asked. “Wake up, you old lazy-bones! Where’s Jack got to?”

In turn Bee gazed uncomprehendingly at the rough walls and ceiling of this strange bedchamber and then turned sleepy eyes toward Hal. “Hello,” he muttered. “Is it breakfast time? Where are we?”

“We’re on Hog Island,” replied Hal, “and you can bet it’s breakfast time all right, only I’m not sure about the breakfast. I wonder if that’s where Jack’s gone.”

“To breakfast?” Bee sat up suddenly, blinking. “Where is it?”

“It’s in the ocean, I guess. Maybe Jack’s gone fishing.”

Hal got up stiffly and went outside. Bee, still blinking in the glare, presently followed him. Sure enough, there was Jack in the stern of the Corsair with two lines over the side. Hal sent a hail and Jack looked up and waved.

“I’ve got four perch,” he shouted. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Get the fire started.”

This they did, and then went down to the water and dabbed some on their faces. Somehow the thought of breakfast, now that they were up, didn’t appeal to them. It was Bee who found the reason.

“Gee,” he said, “I wish I could drink this stuff. I’m as thirsty as—as a sponge!”

“That’s so,” said Hal. “I was wondering what the matter with me was. You don’t suppose there’s any rain water anywhere, do you?”

“I don’t know. There are some pools up there. Let’s try them.” They did, but with disappointing results. All the water they tasted was too brackish to drink. They walked over to meet Jack, who was pulling the launch in toward the ledge. It was a wonderful summer morning and the Neck lay green and beautiful across the blue sea. Afar off, a tiny speck beyond Popple Head and the white lighthouse, a lobsterman in a dory was visiting his traps. Seaward a schooner lay hull-down against the clear horizon. Aside from these the ocean was empty. Overhead a flock of gulls wheeled and mewed. Jack bore five small blue-perch when he reached them. He was immensely proud of them, but Hal and Bee viewed them with scant enthusiasm.

“I’d a heap rather have a drink of water,” muttered Bee.

“I know,” Jack agreed. “I’m a bit thirsty too. However, we won’t have to stay here much longer. There’ll be schooners coming out of the harbor before long; power boats, too. One went by just as I got out of the hut, but I couldn’t make him hear or see. It wasn’t very light then. Did you start a fire?”

“Yes,” Hal answered.

“Then I’ll clean these and we’ll have breakfast. You won’t feel so thirsty after you’ve eaten something.” He looked toward the harbor entrance and saw the lobsterman. “I wonder if we can make him see,” he muttered. “I’ll have a try, I guess.” He passed the fish to Bee and climbed back to where the remains of the beacon smouldered, but, although for the better part of ten minutes he waved his cap and, finally, his jacket, the lobsterman paid no heed. “The sun’s back of us,” explained Jack, giving up at last, “and I guess he can’t see me. Well, let’s cook breakfast.”

The fish, although pretty bony, tasted good, after all, and Jack’s prophecy that they would feel less thirsty was verified. Afterwards they went to the top of the ledge and, seating themselves comfortably, began the watch for a rescuer.

But folks seemed unbelievably stupid today. One small schooner which came beating around Popple Head in the faint, flukey breeze from south, actually passed less than a half-mile away from them and the three castaways almost waved their arms off and shouted their lungs out in the endeavor to attract the attention of the four men visible on the schooner’s deck. They could see the man at the wheel plainly as he finally raised his hand and pointed toward the island, and they could see another man walk to the rail amidship and look across. But that was all that happened. Fifteen minutes later the schooner was making good headway toward Fort Point.

“She’s probably going hand-lining off Peterboro’ Shoal,” mused Jack.

“I hope they don’t catch a thing,” murmured Hal disgustedly.

“I hope they all fall overboard and are eaten by a shark,” declared Bee.

Jack laughed. “That shark wouldn’t have to have another meal for a month, would he?” he asked. “Here’s a motor boat coming down the shore, fellows. Let’s see if we can make him understand that we want to be rescued.”

But they couldn’t. The motor boat, one of the stub-nosed, wide-beamed half-cabin crafts used by the Portuguese fisherman, was well over toward the shore, and, although once they thought one of the two occupants waved back at them, the boat never changed its course. Several schooners slipped out of the harbor and sailed southward, and once a big red-hulled salt bark appeared in convoy of a tug and dropped anchor off The Lump. But at ten o’clock the boys still adorned the grassy plateau on the ridge of Hog Island and still gazed shoreward with diminishing hope. The sun was beating down all too ardently now and they were actually suffering for want of water. Finally Jack, with a despairing shake of his head, arose and took a long look around him. There were many sails in sight, but all far away.

“I guess, fellows, unless we can attract the attention of some boat on the outer side of the island it’s no good.” Jack nodded at the Corsair, swaying daintily about off the ledge below them, her neat varnished sides reflected waveringly in the water. “That’s what’s making the trouble. Folks see us waving and then catch sight of the launch and conclude that we’re a bunch of those idiotic campers amusing ourselves. If we could only hide the launch some way perhaps someone might come out to us. Anyway, it’s getting too hot here. Let’s get back to the shady side of the hut. We can see pretty nearly as much from there, I guess.”

“I’d give everything I’ve got for a bucket of water,” said Bee sadly. “Even my third interest in the treasure.”

“Hang that old treasure, anyhow,” exclaimed Hal. “If it wasn’t for that we wouldn’t be out here parching up with thirst. If I ever do get off this place I’m going home and stay there!”

They made their way back to the hut and sank gratefully into the shade it afforded. Now and then Jack arose and climbed to a place where he could see the ocean on all sides, and it was on his return from one of these expeditions that he announced a scheme to rig up a signal of distress. “We’ll take the longest plank on the roof and set it up on top of the hut and tie something to it. I guess it will have to be your shirt, Hal; it’s nearer white than Bee’s or mine and can be seen plainer.”

Hal made no objection to providing the signal and they set to work. The longest plank proved to be a heavy, worm-eaten piece of oak not over seven feet in length. They collected small rocks from nearby and tossed them to the roof of the hut. Then Hal gave up his negligee shirt, a white flannel one with a pin-stripe of pink, and Jack secured it to the plank by the simple expedient of knotting the sleeves about it. After which Jack climbed to the roof, the signal was passed up to him and he set the plank on end and piled the stones around it. When they drew off to view it, however, it did not seem especially successful, since the breeze was too light to much more than stir the shirt. Now and then it fluttered away from the plank in the semblance of a flag, but for the most part it hung quite limp and it seemed very doubtful that it would be noticed.

“Well,” said Jack, wiping the perspiration from his face, “it’s the best we can do. If the breeze would draw around into the east a little more I’d advise taking to the launch and trusting to being blown ashore. The tide’s setting in now, you see.”

“Why not try it?” asked Hal.

“Because with the wind as it is now we’d miss the island by a half-mile and keep on going all day, I guess. And we’d be pretty hot and miserable in that open launch with the sun beating down on us for six or eight hours. We’re better off here in the shade.”

There wasn’t much said for the next half-hour or so. Jack kept up his look-out, but nothing approached the island. Hal went to sleep and Bee closed his eyes and tried to follow suit. He had almost succeeded when Jack’s voice roused him.

“There’s a fellow in a dory making across from Eight-Fathom Cove,” said Jack eagerly. “He was going along shore at first, but now he’s turned and is headed straight this way. It looks as though he had seen our signal.”

Bee had to have the dory pointed out to him, since the sunlight on the water dazzled his eyes. Then for a long time they watched the approach of the boat, without awakening Hal, each moment fearing to see the rower change his course. “He must be coming here, though,” Jack murmured half aloud. “There aren’t any traps out that far, and no nets. Maybe he’s coming out this way to fish. Let’s get up on the roof and wave, Bee. We’ll take turns, though. I’ll go first.”

So Bee gave him a leg-up and he scrambled to the top of the hut and became a human semaphore. Finally, just when his arms were getting thoroughly tired out, the single occupant of the dory, which was not a half-mile or so distant, took off his hat and waved back.

“He sees us!” cried Jack. “It’s all right, Bee. Here, I’ll take Hal’s shirt down. Wake him up and tell him to put it on. That chap will be here pretty soon.”

“What are you going to do when he gets here?” asked Hal, who, having been awakened and had the situation explained to him, was now sleepily struggling into his shirt. “I don’t suppose he’s got any gasoline with him.”

“Maybe he’s got some water, though,” said Bee, longingly.

“We can do either of two things,” replied Jack. “We can get into the dory, go ashore, get gasoline and come back here for the launch, or we can make a dicker with him to tow the launch across to the cove. I guess he will do it if we offer him some money.”

By this time the dory was only a little way off. It had been green at one time, but most of the paint had departed. The man at the oars presented to view a broad back clad in a blue gingham shirt. On his head, in spite of the heat, was a felt hat. Jack gazed puzzledly for a moment. Then,

“Well, I’ll be blowed!” he exclaimed. “Who do you suppose it is, fellows?”

“Not that old thieving pirate?” cried Hal.

“That’s what! Honest Bill Glass!”

Hal bristled up immediately. “The old robber! Wait till I talk to him!”

“Don’t do it!” begged Bee in alarm. “Don’t get him mad, Hal, or he may turn back and leave us here. Wait until we get on shore. After that I don’t care what you say to him.”

“That’s good advice, Hal,” said Jack, with a smile. “Better not get him peevish, I guess. Let’s go down there and talk to him.”

Honest Bill Glass rowed his dory up to the side of the Corsair and looked her over. Then he turned to the boys on the edge of the rocks.

“Mornin’, shipmates!” he boomed across. “Changed your camp, I see. I never heard tell, though, of any treasure on Hog Island.”

“Our gasoline gave out yesterday afternoon,” replied Jack, “and the best we could do was make this island. We’ve been signalling ever since we got here and you’re the first to see us. Have you got any water aboard?”

“Not a drop,” replied the man. “Thirsty, be ye?”

“Just about dead,” said Jack. “Suppose you tow us across to Herrick’s Cove. We’ll all take a hand at the oars.”

Bill Glass tipped his hat back and scratched his head reflectively, looking across at the mainland. Finally, “Seems to me you could have rowed that launch across there before this,” he said. “Got oars, I cal’ate, ain’t ye?”

“The old scoundrel!” fumed Hal, none too quietly. “The old hypocrite!”

“No, we lost our oars,” answered Jack patiently. “Someone took them out of the launch, we think, night before last. So I guess unless you’ll give us a tow we’ll have to stay here.”

“Lost your oars, eh? I want to know! Well, mates, I’d like to take ye across, but it’s a long way over there and I be out fishin’. Tell ye what I’ll do, though. After I get through fishin’ I’ll come back here for ye. Time’s money to a poor man like I be, mates.”

“We’ll pay you for your time and trouble,” said Jack. “We’ll give you two dollars to tow the launch across, and we’ll help row. How’s that?”

“I’d like mighty well to oblige ye,” replied Bill Glass in his rumbling voice, “but two dollars won’t pay me for a day’s fishin’ lost, now will it? I leave it to you, mates.” He dipped his oars in the water. “Just ye wait till I be through fishin’ an’ I’ll come and fetch ye, sure as sure.”

“Why, you old—” began Hal. But Bee kicked him into silence.

“Well, we’ll call it three dollars, then,” returned Jack easily. “That’s more than you’ll make fishing, I guess.”

Bill had to consider that a long time. Finally, though, he replied. “It ain’t only time, mate; it’s the trouble too, ye see; an’ I be gettin’ oldish an’ ain’t so spry as I was. But Honest Bill Glass ain’t the kind to leave a shipmate in trouble. I always been one o’ the self-sacrificin’ kind, I have. So I’ll take ye across, shipmates, for a dollar a head.”

“All right,” said Jack.

“An’ a dollar for the launch,” added Bill Glass.

“Well—” began Jack.

“Cash in hand, mate. Mind ye, I ain’t doubtin’ your word, but business be business and it’s human natur to forget. Cash in hand, mates! a dollar a head an’ a dollar for the launch. All I’m seekin’ is just to square myself for a day’s catch, mates.”

“I’d rather stay here and starve!” exclaimed Hal, passionately. “Four dollars when he’s stolen our oars and—and—”

“S-sh, he’ll hear you!” warned Bee. “Don’t be an idiot, Hal. What’s four dollars? I’d give twenty for a glass of water this minute! Tell him yes, Jack.”

“But have we got the money? He says he’s got to have cash.”

“I’ve got it. But tell him we’ll give him two dollars now and two dollars when he lands us in the cove. I don’t trust the old reprobate, Jack.”

Bill agreed to those terms and in five minutes the boys were seated in the old dory and the Corsair was made fast behind it. Bill took up the oars and the journey began. “A gasoline boat,” observed Bill presently, “is a mighty uncertain thing, I cal’ate. There was a fellow by name of Sam Purley used to have one around here about ten years ago. ’Twant as handsome to look at as that one be, but it was a pretty good just the same. Well, one day Sam was out in her over by Tinker Ledge fishin’. Just such another day as this, it was, mates. An’ all of a twinkle—poof!—that there boat just bust into flames, Sam said. First thing he knowed she was scatterin’ gasoline all over the place an’ Sam he got his share. Only thing he could do was jump overboard, which he did. No one ever seed anything of the boat afterwards, but Sam he was picked up by a coal-barge and taken down to Portsmouth. Pretty badly burned he was, too.” Bill turned and looked speculatively at the Corsair, bobbing along behind. “All of ’em’s likely to act the same way, I cal’ate. Uncertain, they be.”

Later Bill reverted to the subject of the oars. “Did I understand ye to say that your oars had been stolen?” he asked.

“They certainly were,” replied Hal belligerently.

“Sho!” Bill’s countenance expressed concern and innocence. The boys afterward agreed that an angel could have looked no more guileless than Bill Glass at that time. “Left ’em in the boat, did ye?”

“Yes, they were in one of the long lockers,” replied Jack. “We think someone took them night before last.”

“Also a boat-hook and a compass and a fog-horn and two lanterns and sixty feet of new rope!” added Hal angrily. “And I guess I know who got them, too,” he added meaningly.

Bill met his gaze unflinchingly. “I want to know! Compass an’ fog-horn an’ boat-hook, too! Well, well! I’m surprised, I be. ’Tain’t often anything’s stolen around these parts. We be pretty honest, we Greenhaven folks. But them Portigees, you can’t trust ’em, mates. They’d steal the wig off a bald-headed schoolmar’m. They’ll take most anything, they will. If I was you I’d keep things locked up. It’s pretty lonesome around Nobody’s an’ them Portigee fellows is forever sneakin’ around lookin’ for something to steal.”

“We’re going to keep things locked after this,” said Jack, “but that doesn’t help bring the other things back.”

“Well, you said you knowed who’d taken ’em. Cal’ate you might get ’em back, mate. If I was you I’d go straight up to ’em and say I knowed they had ’em. Like as not they’d give up.”

“We’re going to the police,” said Hal explosively. “That’s what we’re going to do. And we mean to get those things back.”

Bill nodded reflectively. “Well, that’s one way, and I ain’t saying it’s a bad way. Only thing is, mates, by the time them police officers gets started the fellow that’s got your gear may have hid it or sold it. Things like compasses an’ such sell like hot cakes. Well, I surely hope you get ’em back, mates. An’ here we be at our destination an’ all flags flyin’. I cal’ate you’ll be goin’ back to the island tonight, mates.”

“I think so,” replied Jack. “In fact, I know we shall.”

“Ain’t found that treasure yet, I cal’ate?”

“Not yet. Just row up to the spiling, please. That’s it. Much obliged. And here’s the rest of the money we owe you.”

“Much obliged to you, mates. Any time you want a service done just you call on Honest Bill Glass. Always glad to oblige, I be. Wish you luck, mates!”

From the Corsair, made fast to one of the spiles in Herrick’s Cove, the three boys watched Bill Glass row off around the point. Jack grinned. “He’s a jolly old villain, isn’t he?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Bee. “And I wonder if he really did swipe those things. He looked so confounded innocent all the time!”

“Swipe them! Of course he swiped them!” exploded Hal. “I’ll bet you anything we’ve only got to go up to his cabin to find them. And I mean to do it, too! And if you fellows won’t come along I’ll go alone!”