pearl. It would, in a sense, lift a burden from his mind, and the suspense.
Captain's good luck had softened him. He stepped forward with a pleasant smile. "Don't worry, old fellow," he said. "I don't intend to discharge you. The lesson was needed, but we'll forgive and forget. You thought something terrible would happen, didn't you? Well, I wanted you to suffer. You deserved it. But now we'll shake hands. When the pearl is secured in a natural way, it's back on the job for you!"
Suddenly he drew back. Johnny lay motionless, with shut eyes and gaping mouth, and his arms hung limply at his side.
"Hello," said Captain, "he's fainted. The X-ray gave him a frightful shock. Poor fellow! Well, that means more gin. Get gin somebody!"
One of the white-aproned men stepped solemnly forward. His face was a mask. "Let me examine him," he said. He bent and laid his ear to Johnny's chest. For several moments he remained in a stooping posture. When he unbent, his face was gray.
"He didn't faint," he said.
"No?" Captain seemed surprized.
"No. He's dead. The fright killed him. Kanakas have weak hearts. Poor devil!"
Let There Be Light!
By Adolphe de Castro
Half dreaming on the desert's edge I lay,
And saw the sun with tender touch caress
The sleeping palm to smiling wakefulness
And dow'r with golden tongues the fragrant bay.
Night spirits stole to crannied depths away
While distant mountains, clad in gloomy dress
Of seething vapors from the wilderness,
Raised flaming heads to greet triumphant day.
Low moaned the conquer'd spirit of the night
And called Simoom who, menace-breathing, slept
In fearsome vales, but quickly rose to fight
The nascent dawn; and, shrieking, crashing, leapt
On clouds of dust that whirled and, roaring, swept
The sky—but Allah said: "Let there be light!"
