“Next mornin' I was up early and when the banker turned out I was fryin' a couple of slices of the pork and had some coffee b'ilin'. Likewise there was a pan of johnnycake in the oven. The wind had gone down consider'ble, but 'twas foggy and thick again, which was a pleasin' state of things for yours truly. “Williams smelt the cookin' almost afore he got his eyes open. “'Hurry up with that breakfast,' he says to me. 'I'm hungry as a wolf.' “I didn't say nothin' then; just went ahead with my cookin'. He got into his clothes and went outdoor. Pretty soon he comes back, cussin' the weather. “'See here, Mr. Williams,' says I, 'how about them orders to your housekeeper? Are they straight? Won't she have you hunted up for a week?' “He colored pretty red, but from what he said I made out that she wouldn't. I gathered that him and the old lady wa'n't real chummy. She give him his grub and her services, and he give her the Old Harry and her wages. She wouldn't hunt for him, not until she was ordered to. She'd be only too glad to have him out of the way. “'Humph!' says I. 'Then I cal'late we'll enjoy the scenery on this garden spot of creation until the week's up.' “'What do you mean?' says he. “'Well,' I says, 'the launch is out of commission, unless it should rain gasoline, and at this time of year there ain't likely to be a boat within hailin' distance of this island; 'specially if the weather holds bad.' “He swore a blue streak, payin' partic'lar attention to the housekeeper for her general stupidness and to me because I'd got him, so he said, into this scrape. I didn't say nothin'; set the table, with one plate and one cup and sasser and knife and fork, hauled up a chair and set down to my breakfast. He hauled up a box and set down, too. “'Pass me that corn bread,' says he. 'And why didn't you fry more pork?' “He was reachin' out for the johnnycake, but I pulled it out of his way. “'Wait a minute, Mr. Williams,' says I. 'While you was snoozin' last night I made out a kind of manifest of the vittles aboard this shanty. 'Cordin' to my figgerin' here's scursely enough to last one husky man a week, let along two husky ones. I paid consider'ble attention to your preachin' yesterday and the text seemed to be to look out for number one. Now in this case I'm the one and I've got to look out for myself. This is my shanty, my island, and my grub. So please keep your hands off that johnnycake.' “For a minute or so he set still and stared at me. Didn't seem to sense the situation, as you might say. Then the red biled up in his face and over his bald head like a Fundy tide. “'Why, you dummed villain!' he shouts. 'Do you mean to starve me?' “'You won't starve in a week,' says I, helpin' myself to pork. 'A feller named Tanner, that I read about years ago, lived for forty days on cold water and nothin' else. There's the pump right over in the corner. It's my pump, but I'll stretch a p'int and not charge for it this time.'