Page:Barbour--Lost island.djvu/142

 While he continued to talk in a careless, half-bantering tone, he was busying himself with an oil-stove and "Billie" kettle; and soon a rough-and-ready meal had been prepared. Dave, now rapidly recovering from the effects of his immersion, was beginning to feel ravenous, for nobody on the Kingfisher had eaten anything since the previous day. Canned salmon, thick slices of bread and butter, and coffee, set out on an upturned box innocent of a table-cover, formed the repast, and Bruce Tempest played host politely.

"Do you live here all the time?" Dave asked, looking around at the shack. Besides the box which served as a table, it contained two chairs, one of which had a leg missing. Tempest was sitting on that by the simple process of tilting it backward and putting his feet on a ledge in the wall of the shack. In one corner were a couple of shelves on which stood a frying-pan, cups and saucers, and a few plates, most of them badly chipped. A mattress and bedding in another