"But was it?" thought Billy."Didn't I tell them that I was dying? I thought so myself, and there is no reason why they shouldn't have thought so too.I suppose I shouldn't blame them, and I don't; but I wouldn't have left them that way and not come back.They had a warship full of blue jackets and marines--there wouldn't have been much danger to them."Presently it occurred to him that the party may have returned to the coast to get the marines, and that even now they were searching for him.He hastened to return to the mainland, and once more he took up his wearisome journey.
That night he reached the coast.Early the next morning he commenced his search for the man-of-war.By walking entirely around the island he should find her he felt sure.
Shortly after noon he scaled a high promontory which jutted out into the sea.From its summit he had an unobstructed view of the broad Pacific.His heart leaped to his throat, for there but a short distance out were a great battleship and a trim white yacht--the Alaska and the Lotus! They were steaming slowly out to sea.
He was just in time! Filled with happiness the mucker ran to the point of the promontory and stripping off his shirt waved it high above his head, the while he shouted at the top of his lungs; but the vessels kept on their course, giving no answering signal.
For half an hour the man continued his futile efforts to attract the attention of someone on board either craft, but to his dismay he saw them grow smaller and smaller until in a few hours they passed over the rim of the world, disappearing from his view forever.
Weak, wounded, and despairing, Billy sank to the ground, burying his face in his arms, and there the moon found him when she rose, and he was still there when she passed from the western sky.
For three months Billy Byrne lived his lonely life upon the wild island.The trapping and fishing were good and there was a plentiful supply of good water.He regained his lost strength, recovering entirely from his wounds.The natives did not molest him, for he had stumbled upon a section of the shore which they considered bewitched and to which none of them would come under any circumstances.
One morning, at the beginning of his fourth month of solitude, the mucker saw a smudge of smoke upon the horizon.
Slowly it increased in volume and the speck beneath it resolved itself into the hull of a steamer.Closer and closer to the island it came.
Billy gathered together a quantity of dry brush and lighted a signal fire on the lofty point from which he had seen the Alaska and the Lotus disappear.As it commenced to blaze freely he threw fresh, green boughs upon it until a vertical column of smoke arose high above the island.
In breathless suspense Billy watched the movements of the steamer.At first it seemed that she would pass without taking notice of his signal, but at last he saw that she was changing her course and moving directly toward the island.
Close in she came, for the sea was calm and the water deep, and when Billy was sure that those on board saw him and his frantic waving, he hurried, stumbling and falling, down the steep face of the cliff to the tiny beach at its foot.
Already a boat had been lowered and was putting in for land.Billy waded out to the end of the short shelving beach and waited.
The sight that met the eyes of the rescuers was one that filled them with awe, for they saw before them a huge, giant of a white man, half-naked except for a few tattered rags, who wore the long sword of an ancient samurai at his side, a modern revolver at his hip, and bore in his brawny hand the heavy war spear of a head-hunter.Long black hair, and a huge beard covered the man's head and face, but clean gray eyes shone from out of the tangle, and a broad grin welcomed them.
"Oh, you white men!" shouted the mucker."You certainly do look good to me."Six months later a big, smooth-faced giant in ill-fitting sea togs strolled up Sixth Avenue.It was Billy Byrne--broke, but happy; Grand Avenue was less than a thousand miles away!
"Gee!" he murmured; "but it's good to be home again!"There were places in New York where Billy would find acquaintances.One in particular he recalled--a little, third-floor gymnasium not far distant from the Battery.Thither he turned his steps now.As he entered the stuffy room in which two big fellows, stripped to the waist, were sparring, a stout, low-browed man sitting in a back-tilted chair against one wall looked up inquiringly.Billy crossed over to him, with outstretched hand.
"Howdy, Professor!" he said.
