"And I tell Mr. Bont,"--Jim resumed the thread of his narrative, smiling apology around,--"I tell him, 'Let-a me go!' not ron avay, of course; I cannot ron avay if I wish. It is island. I tell him 'Let-a me go and work! I make ze door good; I mend ze windows; I do for ozer people work, perhaps zey give me ozer mess.' Is it not?" with a sudden flash and gleam of eyes and teeth. There was a short pause. "How did you come here, anyway?" queried Captain Bije Tarbox. It appeared that Jim had fallen overboard from his vessel. It was night, and his fall had not been noticed. Fortunately, the vessel was, even at the moment, passing the Island. He was a good swimmer, used to being in the water for a long time--briefly, behold him! He stole the hen. He was taken, brought before the "selected gentlemen." That was his story. "Just step outside with Bunt a minute, my man," said Captain Asy Bean, "and we'll settle your case." Then, as the door closed behind the smiling criminal and his gloomy guardian, Captain Asy turned to the others: "Gentlemen, this story may or may not be true. It sounds fishy; but, anyhow, the man must have come from somewhere, and I d'no as it matters much, s'long as he's here now. Question is, what to do with him now he _is_ here. Just like them _se_leckmen, lettin' the jail go to rack an' ruin, an' then clappin' a man in thar for the sheep to nibble." "Man's a seaman, anyhow," said Captain Bije Tarbox. "Ought t' ha' been sent straight to us." "That's so!" assented the captains all. "Wal!" resumed Captain Asy, "'pears to me the straight thing is for us to send for the _se_leckmen--they'll be goin' by to dinner direckly, an' we can toll 'em in an' say to 'em--" "Thar she blows!" sang out Captain Abram. "Where away?" asked Captain Moses Packard. "Weather bow!" was the reply; and then the talk went on again. Part II. Palmyra Henshaw was sitting in her neat kitchen, with folded hands. The kettle was singing cheerfully, the cat was purring contentedly by the stove; but for once Miss Palmyra's mood did not chime in with the singing or the purring. She had sprained her ankle the day before, and it was now so painful, that, after dragging it about till her work was "done up" (for, land sakes! she couldn't sit down in the dirt; and her kitchen had to be cleaned up, if she did it on her hands and knees), she was fain now to sit down and put the offending member up on a chair. She looked at the poor foot with great displeasure. It was badly swollen; she had had to put on a green carpet slipper, one of an old pair of her father's; and the contrast with her other foot, in its trim, well-blacked shoe, was anything but pleasant. As she sat thus in silent discomfort, she heard the sound of the pump in the yard. Somebody was working the handle up and down with firm, regular strokes.