Part 47 (1/2)

”Suppose you got it?” parleyed the master of the _Bertha Hamilton_.

”It wouldn't do you any good. The schooner is landlocked and can't get away.”

”Even so it'll do us as much good as it will you,” countered Ditty.

”We've got the longboat an' we can easily make one of the islands near by where we can find a s.h.i.+p to take us to the States.”

”And suppose I have the treasure and refuse to give it to you?” pursued the captain.

”Then we'll take it!” threatened Ditty, his one eye glowing with malevolence. ”We'll take it if we have to kill every last one of you to git it!

”Hey! Barker! Olsen! The rest of you bullies!” he added, raising his voice, ”you know blamed well the after-guard won't do nothin' for you fellers but let you git shot. You better come with us.

”We're nearly two to one, anyway, an' you've got no chance,” he added to Captain Hamilton.

”We haven't, eh?” exploded the captain, his pent-up rage finding vent.

”Do your worst, you black-hearted hound! And if you're not behind that tree in one minute, may G.o.d have mercy on your soul!”

CHAPTER x.x.xI

A DARING VENTURE

With an expression of baffled rage convulsing his features, Ditty turned and made for shelter. Once safely there, he hurled back the wildest threats and imprecations. So vile they were that Ruth shuddered and put her hands to her ears.

”I said I'd kill you all!” the mate shouted. ”I'll take that back.

I'll kill all but one!”

The threat was easily understood. Captain Hamilton's face went white, and he glanced hastily at Ruth. But he only said:

”Keep down out of sight, men. They know where we are, but we don't know where they are. They may try to rush us, but I don't think they will at first. Aim carefully and shoot at anything that offers a fair target, but don't waste the ammunition.”

He had hardly finished speaking before there came a volley, and the bullets pattered against the rocks. They came from several directions.

Ditty had arranged his men in the form of a semicircle. They had ample cover, and the only chance for the besieged lay in the chance that one of the enemy should protrude his head or shoulder too far from behind his tree.

Many times in the next hour the fusilade was repeated. It was plain that the mutineers were armed only with pistols.

”Probably Ditty laid in a stock before he left New York,” the captain muttered to Tyke. ”Automatics, too.”

”His ammunition won't last long if he keeps wasting it this way,”

replied Tyke. ”An' an automatic ain't always a sure shot.”

Just then a cry from Olsen showed that the mutineers' cartridges had not been wholly wasted. A bullet had caught the Swede in the shoulder.

He dropped, groaning.

Ruth was by his side in an instant. She bound up his wound as best she could, and, putting a coat beneath his head, made him as comfortable as possible.

”One knocked out,” muttered the captain. ”I wonder who'll be the---- Ah! Good boy, Allen!” he cried delightedly.

One of the enemy had thrown up his hands and, with a yell, had crashed heavily to the ground. He lay there without motion.