LOST ISLAND
the vessel was bearing down upon them. "Somehow, I don't fancy Mr. Cresswell will ever get his Nautilus back after all."
"What are you going to do?" Dave asked.
"Do? Why, I'm going to heave this treasure on to that tramp steamer and sit on it till we reach civilization."
"What about the Nautilus?"
"Let her go adrift. She isn't worth much, anyhow, and Mr. Cresswell will be the surprisedest man living when he receives a check for five hundred dollars—or make it a thousand, if you like, for overweight. We owe him a debt of gratitude."
The steamer was now within a cable's length of them, with her engines stopped. A dozen faces appeared over her rail.
"You look lonely there. Want any help?" called a deep voice.
"Glad of a passage," Tempest replied, as a rope ladder was slung over the side. "Lower a
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