When Mr. Gibney fell under the impact of the earthenware pot he was only partially stunned. As he tried to struggle to his feet half a dozen hands were laid on him and in a trice he was lifted and carried back of the wari to a clear space where a dozen heavy teakwood posts stood in a row about four feet apart. Mr. Gibney was quickly stripped of his clothing and bound hand and foot to one of these posts. Three minutes later another delegation of cannibals arrived, bearing the limp, naked body of Captain Scraggs, whom they bound in similar fashion to the post beside Mr. Gibney. Scraggs was very white and bloody, but conscious, and his pale-blue eyes were flickering like a snake's. "What's--what's--the meanin' of this, Gib?" he gasped. "It means," replied the commodore, "that it's all off but the shouting with me and you, Scraggsy. This fellow Tabu-Tabu is a damned traitor, and his people are still cannibals. He's the decoy to get white men ashore. They schemed to treat us nice and be friendly until they could get the whole crew ashore, or enough of them to leave the ship helpless, and then--O Gawd, Scraggsy, old man, can you ever forgive me for gettin' you into this?" Captain Scraggs hung his head and quivered like a hooked fish. "Will they--eat--us?" he quavered, finally. Mr. Gibney did not answer, only Captain Scraggs looked into his horrified eyes and read the verdict. "Die game, Scraggsy," was all Mr. Gibney could say. "Don't show the white feather." "D'ye think McGuffey could hear us from here if we was to yell for help?" inquired Captain Scraggs hopefully. "Don't yelp, for Gawd's sake," implored Mr. Gibney. "We got ourselves into this, so let's pay the fiddler ourselves. If we let out one yip and McGuffey hears it, he'll come ashore with his crew and tackle this outfit, even if he knows he'll get killed. And that's just what will happen to him if he comes. Let poor Mac stay aboard. When we don't come back, he'll know it's all off, and if he has time to think over it he'll realize it would be foolish to try to do anything. But right now Mac's mad as a wet hen, and if we holler for help--Scraggsy, please don't holler. Die game." Captain Scraggs turned his terrified glance on Mr. Gibney's tortured face. Scraggs was certainly a coward at heart, but there was something in Mr. Gibney's unselfishness that touched a spot in his hard nature--a something he never knew he possessed. He bowed his head and two big tears stole down his weatherbeaten face. "God bless you, Gib, my _dear_ boy," he said brokenly. "You're a man." At this juncture the king came up and thoughtfully felt of Captain Scraggs in the short ribs, while Tabu-Tabu calculated the precise amount of luscious tissue on Mr. Gibney's well-upholstered frame. "Bimeby we eat white man," said Tabu-Tabu cheerfully. "If you eat me, you bloody-handed beggar," snapped Captain Scraggs, "I'll pizen you. I've chawed tobacco all my life, and my meat's as bitter as wormwood."