Part 30 (1/2)

The Arab looked at him questioningly.

”You saved George Desmond's life,” said the reporter shortly.

”That was many years ago,” said the Arab with a start of recognition at the name of the dead explorer, ”I have changed since.”

With a wave of the hand he strode to the river's edge and half-an-hour later he and the remnant of his band were out of sight round a bend in the upper river.

At almost the same instant the boys soared aloft in the Golden Eagle II, and the chase for the ivory was on.

Below the flying aeroplane Ben Stubbs and old Sikaso--the latter as silent as ever--paddled down the river in silence.

It was a time for deeds, not talk.

CHAPTER XXIII

ABOARD ”THE BRIGAND”

The Brigand, a black, schooner-rigged yacht of about 1800 tons, with a yellow funnel amids.h.i.+ps, and flying the red and blue burgee of the Transatlantic Yacht Club, lay at anchor on the rolling blue swells off the harbor of a.s.sini in the early dawn of the day following the treachery of Luther Barr. Her crew--for the most part a riff-raff collection picked up in a hurry, for the old man had only made up his mind to make his daring grab for the ivory at the last minute--lolled about the decks idly. There was no one aboard to give command, for Jack Halsey, the mate who had been in command since the death of the captain had gone ash.o.r.e the night before.

As old Barr had prophesied, the mate's love for strong liquor had overcome him and he was now lying hopelessly intoxicated in a low drinking den. The raw ”trade gin” that he had drunk had rendered him insensible and so he would remain for many hours to come.

Some sort of animation diffused itself among the crew as they saw a low-laden launch headed toward them from the sh.o.r.e. In it were seated Luther Barr and several negroes including the black captain.

”Here, you lazy loafers!” hailed Barr, who was evidently in a bad temper and also in a furious hurry, as the launch ranged alongside, ”bear a hand here and rig a sling and get this stuff aboard.”

The ”stuff” referred to was the priceless collection of ivory which lay higgeldy-piggeldy in the bottom of the launch just as it had been thrown in by the negroes in Barr's pay. Antic.i.p.ating that the boys would put up a stiff fight for the ivory he had taken the precaution to hire these ne'er-do-wells, who would do anything, from cutting a throat to stealing a chicken, for pay. Barr had paid them well and when he had arrived at the camp he had taken the precaution to leave them down the river about half-a-mile while he went on alone with the launch and her captain to see how the land lay. When he realized that the boys were not fooled by his forged order from Mr. Beasley he decided to use the chloroform he had bought for just such an emergency, and then rousing his followers when the boys were drugged it had not taken long with their united efforts to load the ivory.

Urged on by Barr's promise of a large reward the captain of the launch had spun his little vessel down the river at top speed and thus had been able to make the coast in record time.

”Where in thunder is that mate Halsey?” roared Barr as he saw the bos'n--a seedy-looking fellow from the London slums--taking charge of the transfer of the ivory from the launch to the deck of the Brigand.

”He went ash.o.r.e last night,” rejoined the other.

”And I suppose he is helplessly drunk now,” raged Barr. ”How in the name of fortune are we going to get the yacht out of here?”

”Wait till he gets sober,” was the bos'n's grunted reply as the men hastily transferred the last of the precious freight of tusks to the Brigand's deck.

Barr jumped to the accommodation ladder and was aboard in a second, despite his apparent feebleness. His face was distorted with rage and cupidity.

”We have got to get out of here at once--now do you understand?” he roared, crazed with rage.

”I'll give a thousand dollars to the man that will get me out of this harbor and well off to sea.”

”If it comes to that I guess I can take a chance of navigating the yacht even if I don't hold a master's ticket,” replied the bos'n.

”But are you a navigator?” questioned Barr eagerly

”Well, Mr. Barr, I held a master's ticket once before drink got me and I piled my s.h.i.+p on a reef,” was the answer.