Oliver Torrey paused a moment, wiped his haggard face, and then continued, as he looked earnestly at his rescuers: "Boys, I never can thank you enough for saving my worthless life. It's awful to think that we guys let Pete Deveaux coax us into doing all those dirty things to hold you back. I guess we deserved this punishment. If I ever get back to Panama I'll certainly make what amends I can by telling the whole disgraceful story to the world." Tom stepped in front of the _Clarion_ flyer, and shook his finger in his face. "Torrey," said Tom, "I think at heart you are all right; but listen! Mr. Wrenn, who hired you fellows, is a straight man through and through. If this story gets out it will be published broadcast, and people will think he abetted your crimes against us. So, for his sake----" "I see; I hadn't thought of that," ejaculated Torrey. "I will keep still; as far as the public'll ever know, they'll think this was a fair and square contest--and so it was on your part." It must be remembered that John and Tom had had no sleep since the day previous. They were so tired by now, especially John, that they were very glad to retire to the hammocks, leaving Paul and Bob to take care of the Sky-Bird. Oliver Torrey was also exhausted, and accepted with alacrity Paul's invitation to him to jump into the spare hammock. Within five minutes the two youths were the only ones awake. It seemed good to the boys to feel that soon they would be at San Cristobal, their last stop before the final hop. They flew along with the throttle wide open for the next hour, eager to make up for the delay caused by the storm and the rescue of Torrey. Then they reduced the speed a little, to make sure they would not overheat the engine, but still they made good time. Shortly before six o'clock that afternoon they sighted a blue haze which a little later developed into a group of several islands. These they knew, by consulting their chart, were the Gallapagos, the home of the largest land-turtles ever known, monsters so enormous that one of them could walk off with two half-grown boys on his broad back. There are over two thousand volcano cones in these islands, and soon our friends were almost in the midst of them. On all sides and at all distances were rugged peaks one hundred to two thousand feet high, rising sheer from a rose-pink sea over which the declining sun played ravishingly. Along the shores pelicans soared above the shallow inlets, watching for unwary fish. Tiny birds darted in and out among the cliffs. Down in the crystal depths of the sea, over shelves of coral, vague shapes hovered and passed and repassed--sharks, dolphins, turtles, and grunts, even the ghastly devil-fish. All life seemed confined to water and to air; never was dry land so desolate-looking as those myriads of barren volcanic cones. Yet one of these islands was peopled with human beings--San Cristobal.