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 travels through the South Seas. There were no tall trees near, but foliage of wonderful colors covered most of the ground. As the men stepped ashore, a flock of birds with gorgeous plumage flew up from the bushes, uttering strident calls of indignation at the intrusion.

"It's quite clear there's nobody at home on this island," Tempest said. "I don't expect those birds have ever seen a human being before. Well, Dave, we 're all going to play a little game of Robinson Crusoe, so cheer up. How would you like to spend the next ten years here?" It was characteristic of Bruce Tempest that he was not in the least perturbed by being marooned. Already he seemed perfectly at home, although he had not been on the island five minutes.

"Ten years!" Dave said, looking at his friend to see whether he was serious. A picture of the small house near the water in far-away Brooklyn, flashed into his brain at that second. "How long do you think we might be stuck here?"