"Let them go, Swanson. They'll get food from the Malays, and they can easily make their way to Singapore in the boat. I'll not prosecute them. As for Jerry, we'll bury him in the morning."
Swanson lumbered out of the cabin. Captain Hollinger turned to Mart, and asked him to go over his fight with the Pirate Shark in more detail. Mart did so, for by this time he had recovered entirely except for a shakiness in his legs. The captain listened to the story silently, then nodded.
"I'm pretty sure you finished off the brute, Mart. That finishing blow of yours seems to have driven in the kris either through his throat or else through his mouth to the brain."
"But you didn't see anything of the body as you came?" asked Bob anxiously.
"No. He'd probably not rise until to-morrow, in any case. I've no doubt, however, that we'll find his body to-morrow or next day, boys. What a trophy his skin would make, eh?"
"Could we have it mounted, dad?" queried Bob.
"Too big," retorted Mart practically. "The only place it could be used would be in a museum, Holly."
"Well, why not?" smiled the captain. "It would be a welcome addition to any museum, Mart, and our Kanakas can take off the skin in a few hours. And think—after it's mounted and set up, you'll see your name on the bottom—killed and presented by Mart Judson! How's that?"
"Pretty good," grinned Mart. "But say, let's get down to solid earth, Cap'n. Are we going to get after the rest of that treasure down there?"
"Are we?" retorted the captain. "Surest thing you know, Mart! We'll bury poor old Jerry to-morrow morning, and in the afternoon we'll send down a couple of the men, when we've made sure that the Pirate Shark is out of the way. And if there's as much of the stuff as you say you saw, Mart, you'll have a good stake to—"