"But what can we do about it?" asked Henry Darby, who was intensely practical. "We'll think of that in the morning," decided Dick, who was both worried and tired. He knew their situation was desperate, for the food supply was very limited, and he dared not think what would happen when it was all gone. And, in a measure, he felt a sense of responsibility for the welfare of the whole party. "Let's get under shelter now," went on the young yacht owner. "It's getting damp and chilly from the dew. In the morning we'll make a better shelter, see what there is on this island to eat, and put up some signals. It will probably be only a short time before we can be taken off by some ship." But, though he spoke thus hopefully, Dick was far from feeling the confidence with which he wished to inspire his companions. The night under the flimsy shelter would have been uncomfortable to a degree had not the faithful Widdy replenished the fire at frequent intervals. Indeed, he scarcely seemed to sleep, but was up and about all night, piling on wood, and making a roaring blaze the genial heat of which penetrated to the bower where Dick and the others were stretched out on the ground, endeavoring to get a little rest. Widdy constituted himself cook, and the first sight that greeted the eyes of Dick when he crawled out the next morning, rather sore and stiff, from his uncomfortable bed, was the old seaman, stumping around on the sand, making coffee over the campfire. "My, but that smells good!" cried the young millionaire. "Just tell the steward to serve mine in my stateroom this morning, will you, old chap?" drawled Beeby. "I think I'll lie abed a bit longer." "Yes, you will!" cried Paul Drew, and, with a shove of his foot, he sent the fat lad rolling out of the bower, and over the sloping sand toward the waves. "'Up, up, Lucy, the sun is up, and we must be up, too,' as it used to say in the school books," cried Dick, gaily. "We've got lots to do to-day, fellows, and we'd better get at it. So, after some coffee and rolls--we'll omit the omelet this morning, because--ahem!--because the hens seem to be off on their vacation--but after some coffee and hard-tack we'll get busy. We must set up some signals of distress, erect a better shelter, see what food we have on hand, look to see what there is to be gotten here, and take another look at the place from where the launch disappeared. Maybe we can discover some clews. Come on, tumble out, everybody!" "Me for a dip in the briny!" cried Paul, and, stripping to his undergarments, he ran down the beach, and was soon splashing about. The others followed his example, with the exception of Widdy and Senor Alantrez, and when the lads came back, glowing from their bath, they found a table set on the sands--a primitive table, with tin cans for cups, and shells for plates. But no coffee ever tasted better, as they sat around in negligee costumes and drank it, for the weather was warm enough to permit of light attire.