Overhead the big lanterns in the towers thrust their parallel lances of light afar into the darkness.

The only sounds were the low wash of the surf and the hum of the eager mosquitoes.

Brown was silent, alternately puffing at the pipe and slapping at the insects, which latter, apparently finding his skin easier to puncture than that of the tanned and leathery Atkins, were making the most of their opportunity.
Seth, whose curiosity had been checked but not smothered by his companion's evident desire to say nothing concerning himself, was busy thinking of various guileful schemes with which to entrap the castaway into the disclosure of his identity.

Having prepared his bait, he proceeded to get over a line.
"Mr.Brown," he said, "I ain't mentioned it to you afore, 'count of your needin' rest and grub and all after your fallin' overboard last night.
But tomorrer you'll be feelin' fustrate again, and I cal'late you'll be wantin' to get word to your folks.

Now we can telephone to the Eastboro depot, where there's a telegraph, and the depot master'll send a dispatch to your people, lettin' 'em know you're all safe and sound.