Part 9 (1/2)

I watched the flashes up in the hills till finally they quit; but there was never a word but just those four: ”Come, ask for Brill.”

Our packs were already made up; it remained only for Rufe to put the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the grub we were going to take. Captain Marat and Grant Norris had their high powered rifles, the hand ax was more than I needed, for my legs were nimble. Julian got out his handsome shot-gun, and a dozen sh.e.l.ls Rufe had loaded with buck-shot.

”Jes' two of dem 'ar buck-shot sh.e.l.ls in my ol' gun and dat's all I needs,” Rufe said. ”Dey ain't n.o.body guine to come nigh dis heah schooner 'less'n I says de word.”

We pulled the small boat high on' the beach, near the place where we had parted with Wayne and Robert, and without preliminaries we started off by the road. It was fearfully dark, but the trail was the path of least resistance, so we couldn't get lost. Two hours after the start daylight busted through the trees. In another hour or so we b.u.t.ted into a village. And the first pickaninny we met told us the way to ”Brills,” on the upper side of the village.

A black man, and a black woman, and a black boy, were at the door of the Brill mansion.

”We're looking for two white boys,” announced Norris.

”Dey ain't no white boys 'round heah,” said that black boy. And say!

that voice had a familiar tw.a.n.g to it.

”Say, Robert,” I spit out, ”your face goes all right, but you'll have to smear the black better on that voice of yours, if you want to fool this kid.”

We were all inside now; and it didn't take Robert long to tell his story.

”And so you are sure they've got Wayne in that old ruin?” said Norris, addressing this black man, Carlos Brill.

”Yes, I think ver' sure,” said the man. ”I see they go that way with him.”

”Well, Captain Marat,” began Norris, ”I say storm the place at once.”

”Yes,” a.s.sented Captain Marat, ”we have to do something.”

”But we'll have to go slow,” Robert said. ”That place must be lousy with those cannibals; and no one knows how many guns they'll have.”

Well, Norris was willing to go slow, if he could only go soon. And we were not long getting started.

That black fellow, Carlos Brill, led the way, and that black fellow, Robert Murtry, with him. Julian and I were rear guard. And they gave me Wayne's rifle to carry.

It wasn't long till we got out of the woods into an open spot; and then they showed us what they'd figured out was Wayne's prison. It was way over on the other side of a ravine; and say! it was the queerest looking, half tumble-down old palace!

We went down into the ravine; and on the other side Carlos Brill took us out of the path--afraid of an ambush, or something--and we began to slip and stumble among the roots, and brush, and snaky-looking lianas that hung between the trees. Why the place wasn't full of monkeys I don't know. There wasn't any use of anyone telling us to go slow, this wasn't any fast track.

When we stopped, to let our breaths catch up with us, Carlos told us we hadn't much farther to go. But he wouldn't be able to get us nearer to the palace under shelter of the forest than about four hundred yards.

”Don't let that worry you any,” said Norris. ”Captain Marat or I, either one, won't ask anything better, if we can draw them out.”

”Yes,” agreed Captain Marat, ”four honderd yard' do ver' well.”

I'd seen them both shoot, and I agreed with that. And they had belts and pockets full of ammunition.

Well, we finally got to the place, with that big old half ruin on the opposite side of the clearing. Norris picked a tree, with big branches near the ground. Captain Marat took up a position seventy-five or a hundred yards to the left. Those two big-gun men and Carlos had decided on their plan of campaign, and the rest of us got behind a good screen and awaited developments.

Jean Marat banged away first, sending a ball through an opening in the second story of that old palace. All waited to see some attention paid to it over there. We calculated it ought to start some curiosity at least--that is, if there really was anybody about the shebang. I began to have my doubts; it looked dead as a tomb.