Part 45 (2/2)

”You may come along if you like.”

”No, if you go I'll have to stay by the s.h.i.+p against a possible attack.

Tom will have charge of the party that watches the treasure. The deuce of it is that our force will be divided into three. I hope Bothwell does not take the occasion to make mischief.”

Within the hour the tug that had brought Philips steamed back down the harbor on the return trip to Panama. With it we sent Jimmie and the steward. Dugan flatly declined to go, and since his wound was almost healed the captain let him stay.

This left us fourteen men, counting the former mutineers and the native stokers. To go with me on my night expedition I chose Alderson and Smith. The guard for the treasure cache consisted of Yeager, Gallagher, Barbados and Stubbs. The rest were to remain with the s.h.i.+p.

The tide was coming in when we pulled from the _Argos_ toward the mouth of the Tuyra. The wash of the waves made it unnecessary for us to take any precautions to m.u.f.fle the sound of our oars and the darkness of the night made detection at any distance improbable.

One difficulty we did encounter. For the first few hundred yards of our journey up the river we disturbed some of the numberless birds which had settled for the night on the trees close to the banks. The flapping of their wings gave notice of our approach as plainly as if a herald had shouted it.

We carried no light. The heavy tropical jungle growth on the mud flats which extended on both sides of the river helped to increase the darkness. Our progress was slow, for we had to make sure that we did not slip past without noticing the schooner that had brought the pirates down from Panama.

The sound of voices on the water warned us that we were approaching the boat of which we were in search. Very cautiously, keeping close to the bushes along the sh.o.r.e, we drew near the schooner which began to take dim shape in the darkness.

The tide was still strong, and it carried our boat across the bow of the schooner. The anchor chain was hanging and served to hold us in place, though with each lift of the tide I was afraid those on board would hear us grind against her side. Intermittently the voices came to us, though we could make out no words.

We were in a good deal of danger, for any minute one of the crew might saunter to the side of the vessel and look over. It was plain to me that we could not stay here. Either we must go forward or back.

Now back I would not go without finding whether Evelyn was here, and to try to board the schooner in attack would be sheer madness. My mind caught at a compromise.

I whispered to Alderson directions, and when the jibboom of the schooner came down with the next recession of a wave I swung myself to it by means of the chain, using the stays to brace my foot.

Here I lay for a minute getting my bearings, while the sailors in the boat below backed quietly out of sight among the sh.o.r.e bushes that overhung the banks.

So far as I could see the deck was deserted. Carefully I edged on to the bowsprit, crept along it, and let myself down gently to the deck. I could see now that men were lying asleep at the other end of the vessel.

One was standing with his back toward me beside the mizzen-mast. From his clothes I guessed the watch to be a native.

The voices that had come to us across the water still sounded, but more faintly than before I had come on board. Evidently they were from below.

Probably the speakers were in a cabin with the porthole open. I could not be sure, but it struck me that one of them was a woman. My impression was that she pleaded and that he threatened, for occasionally the heavier voice was raised impatiently.

From its scabbard I drew my revolver and crept forward in the shadow of the bulwarks. My life hung on a hair; so too did that of the watchman drowsing by the mast. If he looked up and turned I was lost, and so was he.

Foot by foot I stole toward the forecastle ladder, reached it, and noiselessly pa.s.sed down the stairs.

I say noiselessly, yet I could hear my heart beat against my ribs as I descended. For I knew now that the voices which came from behind the closed door of the cabin to my right belonged to my sweetheart and to Boris Bothwell.

”Not I, but you,” he was saying. ”I'm hanged if I take the responsibility. If you had trusted me we might have lifted the gold without the loss of a drop of blood.”

”You are so worthy of trust!” Evelyn's voice answered with bitterness.

”Have you ever known me to break my word? But let that pa.s.s. You chose to reject my love and invite that meddler Sedgwick into our affairs.

What is the result? What have you gained?”

<script>