Midnight came. "You better go to sleep," Drake said, when we had rustled up another meal. "I'll sit here till dawn, then call you. We'll have to get some regular schedule." Sleep was a long time coming. Then I slept dreamlessly, to be awakened by Drake pulling at me. "It will soon be daylight, Frank." I leaped up. "Nothing happened?" "No." "How's father?" "All right. Still pounding it out. He was awake with me for an hour or two. Then I made him go back. The fire's going in the living room, Frank. There's a pot of coffee on the hearth if you want it. Here, want this automatic?" "No. I've got mine." He lay down with his weapon beside him, and I left him. I went out into the living room. Its oil lamp was burning. In the big open fireplace a log fire was going with a pot of coffee on the hearth. I had my automatic in my pocket; beside the hearth three loaded rifles and a shotgun were standing. Through the windows to the east I could see that the stars were paling. * * * * * The dawn came. The room brightened with its flat light. I put out the lamp. The fire burned low. It was now broad daylight. A clear, crisp morning. Silent and still; not a breath of wind. Drake had been asleep perhaps two hours. I went again to the veranda. There were no planes, no boats in sight, except out at sea where the warship still hovered. Bird's Nest Island stood clear in the morning sunlight. From the island a wisp of smoke was rising. Some one there--a camp fire. Soldiers, perhaps. I stood gazing. The smoke rose in a thin, dark wisp, straight up into the still air. Then suddenly the column broke. The smoke was checked. And in a moment it came again. A dark, round puff of it rising. Then another puff. And others. As though a blanket were being held over a smoking fire, to catch the smoke, releasing it in puffs. A stream of them now. Two large ones. Three, smaller. Two large ones again. A signal fire? But it was not only that thought which made my heart pound. I recognized the signal! My mind flung back to childhood days. Myself, Dianne and Drake. Fanciful children out on this same island; building a camp fire; making the smoke signals as we thought Robinson Crusoe might have done. Two large puffs; then three smaller. This was our childish signal, out there now! CHAPTER IV _The Strange Island_ "Drake! Wake up!" I routed him out hastily. The signal was still showing. Drake remembered it, just as I did. We watched it; and after a moment it ceased. The wisp of smoke went up unbroken; and then presently it dissipated and vanished. We stared at each other. "You think it's Dianne?" I asked. "Yes. It might be." He was confused. "I don't know what to think, Frank. We must go there--get over there quickly as we can--see what it means."