“What do you mean?” asked my Uncle, in amazement. Captain Gay sat down and looked thoughtfully out of the window. “Perhaps I must take you into my confidence,” he remarked, in his slow, quiet tones, “although at first I had thought this action would be unnecessary. I’ve an idea I’d like to own a ship myself, and to trade in a small way between here and Portland.” “And the golden island, occasionally; eh, Cap’n?” returned Uncle Naboth, shrewdly. “I’ve heard from Sam here how you lost the paper containing your observations; but, I suppose you could find the place again, if you wanted to.” Captain Gay flushed a deep red. “Sir,” he answered, “you wrong me with your suspicions. I shall never revisit that island under any circumstances. Nor do I wish anyone else to do so. That is the true explanation of why I lost that paper.” “Did you lose it?” “I threw it overboard.” Uncle Naboth whistled. “I’m free to confess, sir, that I’m all at sea,” he said. The Captain arose and paced the room with unusual agitation. “Mr. Perkins,” said he, “I once had an older brother, who, when a boy, robbed my father and ran away from home. I never saw him again until we reached that island, where I recognized my erring brother in the man who called himself Daggett.” Uncle Naboth scratched a match, and relit his pipe. “I marked the resemblance between you,” he observed, “but I thought nothing of it.” “To my grief I saw that he had not altered his course for the better,” resumed the Captain. “Of his final theft of the gold and the awful judgment that overtook him and his fellows you are well aware. I shall never forget the horror of those days, sir. It seems to me that that isolated unknown island is my brother’s tomb, where he must lie until the call of the last judgment. I do not wish anyone ever to visit the spot again, if I can help it.” “That’s nonsense,” declared Uncle Naboth, coldly. “Perhaps so; but it’s the way I feel. That’s why I don’t wish to touch the gold. I’ll take the ship in exchange for it, but I won’t use the stuff in any other way, or have anything more to do with it.” “You’re foolish,” said Uncle Naboth, with a sternness quite foreign to his nature. “But if you really want to give away a matter of twenty thousand for an old hulk that’s worth about six, I’ll let you have your way.” “That’s my desire, sir,” announced our visitor, meekly. “Well, then, we’ll go to a lawyer and draw up the papers. Sam, you stay here and look after the gold, till I get back.” “Very well, sir,” I replied, full of wonder at this queer business transaction. Together they left the room, and it was an hour before Mr. Perkins returned. “I signed for both of us, partner,” he said, briskly, “an’ the ‘Flipper’s’ now the sole property of Cap’n Gay. With the money this gold will bring, we can buy a ship twice as good as the old one, in which, with good luck to back us, we ought to make many a prosperous voyage.”