“Better lay still awhile,” he said soothingly, “an’ you’ll soon get your strength. There isn’t such a thing on the island as a house, or I’d try to get you under cover. As it is you’ll have to stay out of doors till something can be rigged up for a shelter.”
“I’m all right; but where is Roy? Didn’t he get ashore?”
“If you mean the fellow who was with you, you’ve only got to turn around in order to see him. He don’t show up very lively yet awhile, but I guess he’ll come ’round all right after a time.”
As a means of bringing the yet unconscious boy to his senses, Ned shook him violently and persistently until the sufferer opened his eyes in a languid sort of way.
“Are we safe, Vance?” he asked feebly.
“Indeed we are, even if it did look so blue a few minutes ago. The yacht was thrown directly up on the bank, almost above high-water mark, and all we had to do was to drop off.”
The knowledge that he was safe when death had seemed positive served to revive the boy wonderfully, and before five minutes had passed both the shipwrecked ones were staring at Ned as if asking how it was he happened to be there.
“I s’pose you want to know if I live here?” he said cheerily, for the fact that he had companions was a wonderful relief in his loneliness; but even as he spoke there came the thought that the arrival of these two might put an end to his treasure-seeking unless he should be willing to share with them.
“How did you get here?” the boy who had been called Vance asked.
“I was set ashore from the brig Evening Star so’s Captain Bragg could wreck her; but it’s too long a story to tell now. Wait till things are a little more comfortable, an’ then I’ll give you the whole yarn. Where did you come from?”