"Oh, easily enough," rejoined the other. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. As the carpenter's gaze wandered over this scene of devastation, his attention was drawn by Mrs. "She tells me there was a Kanaka cook; been in the family as long as she can remember. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No.
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