Part 17 (1/2)

And--”We must not leave them behind here,” Duran had said. So then the captors were to meet the others at some appointed place, and the captured were not to be left behind. What could that mean other than that we were to be finally taken aboard the schooner _Orion_.

The thing cleared in my mind. Duran counted on the _Pearl_ refusing to sail without Ray and myself--that our friends would remain and seek us, even at the risk of losing the trail of Duran. And so the _Orion_ would sail away to the mine without fear of discovery. The thought of defeat in the thing we had so much suffered for, caused my heart to sink. I had no real fear that our lives were in danger. Duran had but the one thought now--to save the gold. Now that at last there were those who had penetrated to his lair in the hills, he would not add zest to the pursuit of himself by a needless crime, a crime that would be easily laid to his door.

The wagon went b.u.mping along over the rough road, shaking us thoroughly, while these thoughts were pa.s.sing in my mind. Hot as was the night, I was almost stifled by this thing over my head, reinforced by the tight binder on my mouth.

We must have traveled at least five miles, I judged, when the wheels ceased to turn. The cloths were taken from our heads. The bonds on our arms and legs remained. There was one black who spoke some English, and he warned us to make no noise.

”We put them on again, if you do,” he said.

Once more the wagon moved on. The stars shone overhead, and I could see trees and palms looking down on me, now and then.

”This is a pretty pickle you've pulled me into,” Ray said. ”My mouth all tied up for more than an hour; and my liver's all scrambled.” Ray would make a joke of the rope, if the hangman's noose were round his neck.

I've never known a situation so bad as to dampen his spirits. I would have liked to talk with him about our present unhappy situation, and try to devise something by way of bettering it; but there was that black man who spoke English. With him on the seat, and in the wagon box were four other blacks,--as I finally made out--Duran was making sure of our security. I wondered how far it would be to this place on the coast, where we were to be met by the _Orion_.

Day finally came, and we were allowed to sit, thus having our heads more in the air. Ray grumbled about the hardness of the springs--the wagon had none--; and the meat, and bread, and water, that were thrust into his mouth did not make a breakfast to his liking. The morning was not yet half gone, when we came to a stop, at a hut by the roadside. Then came an opportunity that I had not even ventured to hope for--an opportunity to send a message back to our friends.

The black who spoke English came and leaned on the wagon wheel. He had something to say to us. He offered us freedom, on condition that we should prepare a message to be taken back to our friends on the _Pearl_, a writing that should induce them to remain in harbor, and cease to follow the _Orion_.

”You will then let us go back to our friends?” I asked.

”Yes, you go back,” he said.

I felt that the fellow lied, for he would not have time to learn the result of the message before meeting with the _Orion_; for that would not appear until the _Orion_ had sailed away. And Duran was little likely to permit us to go back and point out to our friends the way the _Orion_ had gone. But of course I jumped at the proposal.

”Just plain letter,” the black said. ”No trick letter,” he warned.

A piece of wrapping paper was brought out from the hut, and a pencil to write with.

My arms were freed for the purpose. The black looked on expectantly. How was I to make the most of this opportunity? I had not slept, my mind was confused. I must have time to think. I exaggerated my drowsiness, and my eyes winked and drooped.

”I am too tired now,” I told that black. ”I must have a little rest, first.”

He grunted. ”Rest, then write,” he said.

The man was himself fatigued, and so, doubtless, eager for a snack of slumber. He went into the hut, leaving one black to guard us.

”Well, I'm going to have a snooze,” murmured Ray. ”If you need me, ring.” And in another minute he was breathing heavily.

I pretended to doze while I sought in my mind to contrive a secret message that should be concealed in this note I was to write our friends on the _Pearl_. First, I must make it very plain to them that they should continue on the trail of the _Orion_, and that we two were to be taken on board that vessel. And then, in order that they might safely stay behind for some hours, when the _Orion_ sailed, and thus seem to have given over the chase without actually losing the trail, I must contrive to let them know which way the _Orion_ would go to meet us.

That it was to the north coast of the island was plain, for the stars had kept me informed as to the general direction we had been moving. But how to conceal all that intelligence in a letter of apparently contrary import?

I had fallen asleep. I awoke with a start, much refreshed. And when I opened my eyes, it was with the feeling that my problem was solved. The thing was now quite clear; it was as if I had dreamed the thing to a conclusion. Years back, we boys, particularly Robert and myself, had worked on various means of secret communication by writing. It was one of those methods that I would now employ. I had the pencil that was brought from the hut, where the English-speaking black still lingered; and beside, I had by habit long carried a bit of indelible pencil in my trousers pocket. Those words I wished to convey to our friends in secret I would write with the indelible pencil; the words I wished to be ignored I would put with the ordinary pencil. I immediately set to work on the message. I have here italicized the words--and the part of a word--that were done with the indelible pencil.

_Do_ not _follow the Orion_. _We will_ not _be on board of her_. We are promised freedom if _you go_ not from _the north_west _coast_, where you are, for three days. _Then keep a lookout for us, and we will come to you as soon as we can._

_Wayne Scott._

Now I had not the least doubt that when our friends should come to read this note, they would search for some hidden message. And I was sure that Robert would finally recollect our old practices, and finally put the proper test to it that should bring out the words that I wished to convey to them. I contrived so to use the pencils, that even a sharp eye would not readily detect the fact that two pencils had been employed in the writing. The color in the piece of wrapping paper on which I wrote helped me in this.