"She dropped her salts. I picked them up."
"Exactly! Well, the axe is gone."
He started up on his elbow.
"Gone!"
"Thrown overboard, probably. It is not in the cabin."
It was brutal, perhaps; but the situation was all of that. As Burns
fell back, colorless, Tom, the cook, brought into the tent the wire
key that Singleton had made.
That morning I took from inside of Singleton's mattress a bunch of
keys, a long steel file, and the leg of one of his chairs, carefully
unscrewed and wrapped at the end with wire a formidable club. One
of the keys opened Singleton's door.
That was on Saturday. Early Monday morning we sighted land.