It was a full two hours before Berwick could bring Jim fully around, and then the latter sat by a bright camp fire in the cove, pale and drawn, with a handkerchief tied around his injured head. He was drinking some coffee, but as yet he could not eat anything.
"Who was the guy, John, who first called women the weaker sex?" inquired Jim, in a faint and injured tone.
"Some chump who probably died a sadder and a wiser man," replied his friend.
"I only wish the gentle Annie back there had given him a tap with the shillalah," remarked Jim.
Finally, by the time the fog thickened, Jim was himself once more and the two comrades had determined upon their course. They had this advantage in that they knew, from what Jim had overheard, something of the immediate plans of Captain Bill Broome and his evil crew, and what actually occurred will be fully and graphically told in the "Frontier Boys in the South Seas." Furthermore, at this particular time, the captain believed his enemy drowned beyond all possibility of a doubt; therefore, he would not be on his guard against him in the future, and would know of no need to hurry his departure.
"All aboard now, John," said Jim. He rose stiffly to his feet. "We will row across the bay to the city and charter a fast craft to follow these beggars. I guess there will be a surprise in store for those blooming pirates in a few days."
"We are short of cash, Captain," remarked John; "I don't see how we are going to get a boat."
"Trust to luck," said Jim; "it is coming our way I tell you. That was the break when I wasn't drowned this morning."
It came out, the luck part, as Jim said, and yet it was nothing so remarkable, for as they had rowed some distance on their way and were between the shore and the Sea Eagle, John Berwick suddenly stopped at a gesture from Jim.