Part 43 (2/2)

”All right, all right,” interrupted the usually taciturn Robert at last, ”but when's breakfast?” And his hand went in where his breakfast should be.

”That's so,” admitted Norris. ”We've forgotten breakfast.”

The odor in the hut was too much for our stomachs, so we eschewed the place for all that it had a stove, and made our meal down by our boat.

The morning dragged tediously. It was less than two hours of noon before the day breeze sprung up, so that we could hope for the coming of the _Pearl_. We crouched in the sand on the northeast sh.o.r.e of the isle, watching anxiously. And at last the sails of the schooner appeared, coming from behind the point near the inner terminus of the channel. We rose to our feet and shouted with joy.

”Hold on!” I cried, when I had taken a second look. ”That's not the _Pearl_, that's the _Orion_!”

”Good G.o.d! Yes, you're right,” said Norris. ”What does that mean?”

We retreated into the shelter of the trees. And I sickened with a horrid sensation. It was as much anxiety regarding the _Pearl_, as fear for ourselves; and we had no proper defence, from which we could stand off a dozen or more armed black devils. The _Orion_ changed her course and bore down direct for the isle. We stood, paralyzed with our surprise and dread, gazing on that vessel as it bore down under the freshening breeze. For ten minutes we stood thus.

”Shall we take to the skiff?” said Robert at last.

None answered him. I had just noted a strange thing. The black sailors on the _Orion_--now almost directly north of us--had none of their interest centered on the isle. I turned my eyes back the way the _Orion_ had come. And there were the sails of another schooner coming from behind that point.

”Look!” I cried.

”The _Pearl_!” said Grant Norris. ”That tells the story: the _Orion's_ running away from her.”

He danced with joy. And we three struck one another in our ecstacy of relief.

The _Orion_ rounded the isle, and the _Pearl_, coming in chase, was soon opposite us, and near enough to hail. We rushed down to the water. Our friends, at the rail, waved to us.

”All is safe!” we called. ”Drive the _Orion_ out if you can!”

”Aye! Aye!” came back Ray's voice, and the chase continued.

Round the isle they went. We followed with our eyes, walking the beach.

The _Orion_ scudded off a way down the bay, to the east; then went about on the starboard tack and made for the channel, where she had come in.

At last she disappeared behind that point again. And then the _Pearl_ left the trail, and again set her bowsprit toward our isle, at last dropping her anchor some two hundred yards to the northwest.

In a little, Captain Marat, Ray, Julian, and Carlos came to sh.o.r.e in the boat.

”Well, you gave us a proper fright,” I told them, ”driving that schooner in on us that way.”

”Norris didn't get scared, did he?” bantered Ray.

”Yes, he did,” declared Norris, speaking for himself. ”And the skin all up and down my back is wrinkled even yet. This little place isn't like that up there in that rock sink, with all those holes to crawl into when you're getting licked.”

”I'll tell you, Ray,” I interposed. ”The thing that made most of those wrinkles in his back was thinking what must have happened to you and the _Pearl_--seeing that schooner coming in in place of the _Pearl_. Now tell us how you chased the _Orion_ in here.”

”Ah,” began Captain Marat. ”I guess thad _Orion_ lay all night in thee pa.s.sage. We see her there when we come in.”

And now the party must visit the gold-cache in the thicket.

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