Straight for the sandy beach she ran full speed.

Frank, intended to beach her. This was not a difficult thing.

Her bows were not sharp and capable of gliding over a smooth surface. She struck the sand with a high-pitched bow.

This drove her half through the surf. The shock was tremendous.

There upon the sand lay the submarine boat. It was indeed a disheartening sight.

Every heavy breaker washed her stern and flooded her rails. A high sea would break over her.

Her end was assured.

She could never be floated from that position.

All that could be done was to get all portable and valuable effects ashore.

It was easy to leap from the bow down into the surf and wade ashore. Several did this.

Then a line was established, and the process of getting the effects ashore was begun.

In a short while there was a great heap of stuff on the island beach.

Provisions were there in plenty, and all portable effects that would be useful.

For hours the castaways labored thus. But ever and anon they cast anxious glances to the horizon line to look for some sign of the Belden.

But it did not appear.

This was their only hope, that they might be able to sight and hail the Yankee brig.

It was indeed a sad sight to see the Dolphin in its present position.

Such a triumph of inventive genius as it was, and to think that it must now be given up to decay!

It did seem altogether wrong. But there was no help for it. Perhaps the most philosophical of all was Frank Reade, Jr., himself.

“Never mind,” he said. “I will get up something to beat her.”

“You will do well if you do, Frank,” Stanhope said.

But the young inventor only smiled. He knew his power well.

It was now in order for the castaways to make themselves as comfortable as possible and then explore the island.

There was a cavity in the cliffs which was sheltered from the elements, and into it Frank caused all the provisions to be carried.

A wide sheet of canvas kept off the raw east wind. Blankets were spread and couches made, and the castaways had soon made themselves quite comfortable.

Nightfall came, and Captain Uriah walked out on the beach sniffing the air, and said:

“I tell you, mates, we’re going to have a blow within twelve hours.”

“Do you believe it, captain?” asked Frank, anxiously.

“I do.”

All eyes were at once turned upon the Dolphin.

There she lay, washed by the swell.

A beautiful wreck she was. It was like bidding farewell to a dying friend.

For all knew that the first storm would relegate the Dolphin to oblivion.

The wind certainly was shifting into the northeast, and it looked as if Captain Uriah’s prediction would come true.

All retired early that night.

It was almost a sleepless night for most of the party. But toward morning a distant booming sound was heard.

Rain pattered upon the canvas which hung over the entrance to the cavity.

The storm had come.

The wind quickly freshened into a gale. It was barely daylight, but all arose and went out on shore.

The waves were growing mountain-like every moment.

And there they broke over the wreck of the Dolphin with thundering force.

They crashed down upon the steel decks, and raged and seethed and hissed furiously about their prey.

But all to no purpose.

The keen nose of the Dolphin, like that of some stranded monster of the sea, still held its position.

But before noon the incessant waves had carried away a portion of the port bulwarks.

This was the beginning of the end. From that moment the Dolphin broke up rapidly.

Soon little was left of her but a few of her steel ribs; much of the wreck was washed high upon the sands.

It was a sad party which sat on the storm-driven shore and watched the miserable demise of the famous submarine boat.

“It’s too bad!” was all Stanhope could say.

He had carefully preserved the metal case containing the confession just the same.

It would no doubt be a long time, however, before he could make use of it.

Valentine Tucker must languish behind bars for some time yet.

Captain Uriah had taken good care to preserve his precious bag of pearls.

If he never left the isle they would of course be of little value to him. But he hoped to do this.

“I’ll save them, anyway,” he had declared. “If I ever get back to civilization the money will come handy.”

Barney and Pomp were extremely disconsolate.

The loss of the Dolphin was to them a most serious matter.

“I done tell yo’ we am gwine fo’ to starve on dis yere old island!” affirmed Pomp, confidently. “I done feel it in mah bones.”

“Begorra, it’s an awful place to be found dead in!” declared Barney, moodily. “Be me sowl! I’m that lonesome I cud cry me eyes out!”

Two days slipped by.

The storm had drifted away to the eastward and was over. The sun once more shone out clear and bright.

This revived somewhat the drooping spirits of all, and Captain Uriah said:

“Suppose we set a signal flag for the Belden to see?”

It was certainly not a bad idea.

So a long pole was procured and upon it was nailed a huge square of canvas. This could be seen far out to sea.

Then faggots were collected with which to keep a beacon light at night.

If the Belden should come anywhere within range of the island it could not fail to be attracted.

But what Captain Uriah feared was that it would continue to cruise in the same limited area, and then after a disheartening period give up the quest and go back to San Francisco.

In that case they would be indeed badly off. Abandoned on a desert isle! What a fearful fate!

For days they climbed the cliffs and gazed seaward, hour after hour, in quest of the welcome sail.

But it came not.

Then a sort of grim despair began to settle down upon all. Some of them became taciturn and morose.

Finally one day Barney and Pomp came to Frank. Pomp said:

“If yo’ please, sah, we am berry low on provisions. I done fink we hab got to fin’ somefin’ else to eat right away, sah.”

“Bejabers, it’s afther goin’ huntin’ we’ll be,” said Barney.

“Right,” said Frank. “We will organize a party at once. Bring out the guns, Barney.”

The Celt was only too ready to obey.

Anything which developed excitement was welcome, and he and Pomp were at once in gay feather.

They soon procured the guns and some ammunition, and the start was made.

Frank, with Barney and Pomp, as the most experienced hunters, led the way.

It was the first exploration of the island that had been made.

Straight for the interior Frank pushed.

As they went on, the land began to rise, and grew very rocky.

At length an elevation was reached from which a view of the whole island could be had.

It was seen to be completely barren and unproductive.

There was no natural fruit of any kind—not even a berry or a plum.

It was a desolate waste.

Truly, to be forced to confront the fact that they must live the rest of their lives upon this limited bit of barrenness was hard indeed.

“It makes a man feel blue,” said Stanhope. “I almost wish I had stayed at home.”

“By my honor! I wish I had!” agreed Captain Uriah. “Poverty at home is better than riches here.”

“But we are here,” said Frank Reade, Jr., pluckily, “And we must make the best of it.”

“Oh, certainly,” agreed Stanhope, readily. “I am not squealing, Frank. I took my chances and now I’ll stand by ’em.”

At this moment the report of a gun was heard at the edge of a small lake near.

Barney had fired into a flock of ducks and had killed three. Presently he came up with his prize.

“Begorra, it’s a foine shot I med!” he cried. “I thried for one, and, be me sowl! hit tree av thim. Divil a bit betther cud any wan ask!”

Everybody laughed at this, and then all separated for the hunt.

There was no game upon the isle but birds. Beasts or animals of even the smallest order did not exist.

But ducks and geese were quite plenty.

A good bag of these was secured, and then the party returned to the camp under the cliff.

A fire was built and the game roasted. A hearty meal was partaken of, and then all sat down in a circle about the fire and told stories and cracked jokes until midnight.

Truly the life upon the isle was not without its bright side. How long it would last, however, it was not easy to say.

Several days more passed, and nothing worthy of note occurred.

Then Barney strolling along the beach, made a surprising discovery. He saw imbedded in the sand what looked like an iron capstan.

He began to dig around it, and found that it was truly a capstan; also he traced in the sand the outlines of a vessel’s hull.

It was no doubt the wreck of a ship which had come ashore here, and sank gradually beneath the level, owing to some quicksand formation.

Barney was busy with his examination, and was about to shout to his friends, when a thrilling thing occurred.

Suddenly he felt the sand give way and sink downward.