"Hawksley's cashed in!" came in a solemn voice from Broncho, as he reached his side; but there was little need of the words. The fact was evident enough.
"You hanged him after all?" burst out Jack, with a queer strangle of reproach in his voice.
"No, pard; it ain't our funeral. The angels finished our job," explained the cowboy quietly.
The body was covered with the boat-sail and laid under the big palm; then the castaways flung themselves down to sleep, worn out by the tragic events of the night.
Nobody awoke until long after sun-up, and as Broncho was serving out their scanty rations, Tari appeared out of the scrub and slunk into a corner with downcast eyes.
Jack awoke to find himself blind again, but as he felt the woman's hand in his, he knew that she was at last free, and, notwithstanding his blindness, a great comfort flooded his soul.
At breakfast Jim explained his share in the tragic lynching to the astonished bosun's mate and Broncho, and the mystery of the supernatural voice was cleared up.
At midday the body of Hawksley was buried at the foot of the big palm in silence.
After the exciting events of the first twenty-four hours, life on the atoll progressed smoothly enough.