"Honestly I don't feel like work," remarked O'Hara. "It's too beastly hot. Besides, we've anticipated our time-table considerably. The sun's not crossed the meridian yet."
"It's a toss-up whether we set to at once or wait. In any case we stew," said Armstrong. "I vote we dig for an hour and knock off for the early afternoon."
"Yes," assented Denbigh. "That will, I think, be the better way. So bestir yourself, Pat."
"Where's the spot?" asked the mate.
"Almost at the other end of the island," replied Denbigh. "I can recognize it from the position of that jagged reef. Bring the paddles, they'll make excellent sand scoops."
Across the glistening sand they made their way until the three men came simultaneously to a dead stop.
Other diggers had preceded them, for where the whaler and the stores had been hidden was a large, partly-silted-up cavity.
The versatile Irishman was the first to break the silence.
Throwing his paddle to the ground he ejaculated:
"Dash it all! Our luck's out this time."