“Got here before us,” said Drew in a despairing tone.
“No, some more of the black scoundrels must have landed on the other side of the island.”
Chapter Forty Nine.
Smith’s “Narrow Squeak.”
“Lane, old chap,” said Drew, “can’t Panton turn on the fireworks?”
“What do you mean?”
“Poke up the volcano and get up a good eruption, so as to sweep these wretches away.”
“He seems to have already done it,” said Oliver, bitterly. “Haven’t you noticed that the ground has been all of a quiver for long enough?”