"But I thought you lost them all in the wreck!" interposed quick-brained Charlie.
"Oh, no! There's always something floats ashore, you must remember. Well, he concluded not to kill me, though they have a great festival dance in honor of their idols; and I only escape by promising to be his obedient slave. I find some others who have been cast on that desolate shore, and been treated in the same manner. The chief beats us, and makes us work, and treats us dreadfully. Then we mutiny, and have a great battle, for a good many of the natives join us. In the scrimmage the old fellow is killed; and there's a tremendous rejoicing, I can tell you, for they all hate him. We divide his treasure, and it's immense, and go to live in his palace. Well, no boat ever comes along; so we build one for ourselves, and row to the nearest port and tell them the chief is dead. They are very glad, for he was a cruel old fellow. Then we buy a ship, and go back for the rest of our treasures. We take a great many of the beautiful things out of the palace, and then we start for home, double-quick. It's been a good many years; and, when I come back, Granny is old, and walking with a cane, Florence married to a rich gentleman, and Dot here grown into a handsome girl. But won't I build a stunning house! There'll be a scattering out of this old shoe, I tell you."
"Oh, won't it be splendid!" exclaimed Charlie, with a long-drawn breath. "It's just like a story."
"Now, Hal, it's your turn."
Hal sighed softly, and squeezed Dot a little.
"I shall not go off and be a sailor"—
"Or a jolly young oysterman," said Joe, by way of assistance.
"No. What I'd like most of all"—and Hal made a long pause.
"Even if it's murder, we'll forgive you and love you," went on tormenting Joe.
"O Joe, don't!" besought Florence. "I want to hear what Hal will choose, for I know just what I'd like to have happen to me."