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“You’re away off there, Jack, because the sun has dropped behind the level horizon, and there’s only a glow to tell where he vanished. I’ll stand guard here and see that no one surprises you at work. But for the life of me I can’t guess how you’re going to make smoke, and run no danger of fire.”

“Oh! that’s easy,” chuckled Jack. “I’ve made too many a smudge to keep the skeeters off when in the open not to know the ropes. Just wait and see what happens.”

He was gone almost as soon as he had spoken the last word, and once more Amos began to sweep the horizon with his binoculars, as though eager to pick up some distant spot that would prove to be a vessel. It was becoming more and more difficult to make anything out, on account of the haze that extended with the coming of evening; but as we know, the main object Amos had in mind was to deceive the skipper, whenever he glanced that way.

Fainter grew the glow in the western sky. The far-off booming had also died away, so the only sounds that reached his ear consisted of the loud voice of the Greek captain berating his men for not doing something as he wished it.