"Everything in the world," I said. "Perhaps it did not strike you that my fall took place outside Castellan's cabin door. That was when I got the note to him. If you did not see it, it is more than probable that the others did not. In that case, we need have no fears in that direction." "There is the making of a strategist in you," he said, with the first smile upon his face I had seen there since he told me his dreadful news. "Many thanks. Now the next thing to consider is, how is Castellan to reply." "He'll find a way," my companion replied. "Never fear, Castellan is a resourceful man, and all I hope is that he'll find a way of getting us out of this hole. If we could only manage to get out of our cabins, there might be some chance for us, but so far as I can see, there is not the slightest possibility of being able to do that. What is more to the point, did you observe that they are making assurance doubly sure by putting a padlock on each cabin door?" "No, I did not notice it," I replied. "How do you know it?" "Because the carpenter was at work on my door before breakfast," he answered. If this were so, our case was indeed hopeless, for while we might be able to force the lock, it would be impossible to break through both lock and staple. When we returned to the saloon, I found that what my companion had said was only too true. The man had placed the necessary fittings on each of my friends' cabin doors, and was just commencing on mine. He stood aside to let me pass, and as he did so, I noticed that behind the flap of his tool basket, and less than a couple of inches from the door, lay a small gimlet, which doubtless he had been using for the work he had been engaged upon. As I saw it, a longing to possess it, such as I never had for anything in my life, came over me. If only I could get it into the cabin unobserved, it would be worth more to me than a hundred times its weight in gold. Was it possible, however, to secure it? I had only a second in which to hit upon a scheme, but that was sufficient. Putting my hand to my waistcoat, I gave a tug at the cord which carried my eye-glass. It snapped and the glass rolled away across the floor towards the spot where the man was standing. He stooped to pick it up, but before he had time to stand upright again, I had given the gimlet a push with my foot, and it was inside the cabin. When the man returned the glass to me, I gave him a coin for his trouble, thanked him, and then walked into my cabin and shut the door. Once that was closed behind me, I picked up my treasure and thrust it under the mattress of my bunk. The question the next few minutes would have to decide was whether the loss would be discovered, and if so, whether the man would accuse me of taking it. So invaluable would it be to me, that I felt as though I would have fought the world for its possession. I could plainly hear him driving in the last screws, and afterwards