“_Our_ business, if you don’t mind,” Tempest corrected. “And really it is very generous of me to include you like that. Anyhow, I’m willing to make one last offer to you. Let us work together on this job, and forget any unpleasantness there may have been, and split the proceeds into three.” “You’re in a nice position to dictate terms to me, aren’t you?” Flagg sneered. “No, there is only one thing I will agree to.” “And that is?” “I’ve got your boat and your grub. I didn’t ask you to come here. You can starve to death for all I care. You will do that pretty soon. The only alternative is that I’ll give your boat back to you if you clear right out.” “I am afraid Dave Hallard and I have come too far to agree to that, Mr. Flagg,” replied Tempest, striving to keep his temper under these difficult circumstances. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to change your mind?” “That’s all I have to say on the subject,” said Flagg. “In that case, all I can do is to wish you a good morning. It is to be war to the finish. I’m sorry, because, to tell you the truth, I’m beginning to believe we’re all on a wild goose chase.” “What makes you think that?” Flagg asked suspiciously. “That is my business,” Tempest responded, turning his back. “You’ll sing another tune when your stomachs get empty,” Flagg snarled after him, a remark which Tempest did not deign to answer. “Back to our stronghold for the present, Dave,” he said to the boy. “He’s as obstinate as a mule, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he tried to hunt us out and force us off the island at the point of the rifle.” “Did you mean that――when you said you thought we were all on a wild-goose chase?” “Partly,” Tempest replied. “As a matter of fact, things don’t look too rosy, do they? But I really said it to see how he felt on the subject.” “He did look a bit sick,” Dave commented. CHAPTER XXII A MIDNIGHT VENTURE Dave and Tempest were by no means cheerful when they regained their refuge on the hill. The last of the biscuits had already been eagerly devoured, and all three of them had an uncomfortable desire to attack a hearty meal. Thirst, also, was bothering them a good deal. “Something has got to give way soon,” Tempest said, “or else Flagg will have a complete walk-over.” “What a horrible thought!” Dave ejaculated. “And yet I don’t see how we can live on the memory of a few biscuits for more than another forty-eight hours.” Tempest was leaning over the rock with his eyes glued on the _Hatteras_. Flagg and his assistants were doing something on the wreck, and sounds of hammering ascended――as though they were smashing woodwork. It was evident he meant to leave no stone unturned before abandoning his search. “Sometimes I feel sorry I dragged you into this, Tempest,” the boy said. “It looks as if it were going to turn out a fizzle.”