The following night Lobu broke loose from his padlock, and springing to his feet with a blood-curdling yell, dived overboard, and started swimming up the shining wake of the moonlight. "Out oars and after him!" cried Jack, springing to the stroke thwart and shipping the long, pliant ash-stick. Tari ran the other oar out, and before Broncho had struggled clumsily to his feet, the two were pulling strongly after the madman. "Sit down, you two," called Jack calmly. "We'll catch him." But even as he spoke there rang out a wild shriek, and the next moment the boat was floating over a swirl of troubled water, which gradually grew still again; but the white sheen of the moonlight was mingled with the red of poor Lobu's blood. "The shark!" gasped Jim in horror, and broke into the wild, sobbing laughter of hysteria, which shook his poor little frame in sudden pitiful jerks. Jack bent down and tenderly lifted the boy on to the thwart alongside him, and putting his strong arm round him, held the twitching hands in a grip of iron. Ha! ha! ha! ran the wild hoarse laughter, echoing through the still tropical night, and followed abruptly by long, choking sobs, which burst broken and husky from the dried-up throat. The big brown eyes grew glassy with a fixed, unconscious stare; the laughter died down into whispered chuckling horrible to hear; foam gathered on the lips, which bared clenched teeth, and the whole small body shook as if with ague. "Water, quick!" cried the rover. "Him de las'!" said Tari quietly, as he handed across a pannikin half full of muddy fluid. The breaker was empty. "It may save the boy's life--he's not as strong as us men," pleaded Jack. "It's only his wonderful pluck that's kept him up as long as this; if his nerves go, he's done. We're strong; we can pull through, but the boy can't. May I give it him--it's his last chance?" "Why, you durned old chipmunk," broke in Broncho half angrily, "d'you think Tari and I are sech low-down, ornery cattle as to up an' jump Jim's claim that-away." "No dam fear! Oh hellee, no," jerked out the heroic Kanaka, vehemently in his turn. "Thank you, boys," returned Jack; "I didn't mean to insult you." "Put it in the diskyard," spoke forth Broncho, with one of his expressive poker slang expressions. Tari remained silent, gazing, with his handsome but disfigured features full of pity and concern, as Jack, forcing open the clenched teeth, slowly trickled the precious water down the unconscious boy's blackened throat. The effect was instantly perceptible. With a deep sigh and a relaxation of his rigid limbs, Jim rallied, and consciousness crept into his haggard eyes. "Where am I?" he stuttered faintly. "It's all right, old son," declared Broncho cheerily. "You just lie quiet an' slumber some." Jim looked wonderingly round at the three faces, and then a wave of remembrance swept over him. "Poor Lobu!" he murmured.