the spot where Ichi and Asoki stood waiting. They
handed their loads over the rail to the waiting hands below. Then they
followed, by way of a Jacob's ladder.

Charley Bo Yip approached, bound for the cabin entrance. He passed
close behind Martin, almost brushing against Martin's handcuffed hands.
He stepped on into the alleyway without slackening his stride, but
Martin marked the silent passage with a suddenly thumping heart--for
Yip had pressed a piece of paper into one of his manacled hands. Ichi
turned to him and motioned--

"Come, we are of readiness, Mr. Blake!"

Martin twisted his hand around and thrust the paper into his hip
pocket. Then he stepped forward to the rail.

A couple of moments later, Martin sat in the stern-sheets of a
whaleboat. He was much shaken and somewhat bruised from his attempt to
negotiate a Jacob's ladder with his hands behind him, but his swift
descent had not dimmed his mind. His first thought, even as he
clambered over the brig's rail, was to count the men in the shore
party. His fall hardly interrupted him.

There were four men at the oars, he saw. And beside him stood Moto,
manning the steering oar. On the opposite gunwale perched Ichi. Six
of them!

"That will leave nine of them aboard," ran Martin's mind. "Ichi said
only three were killed last night. They would be Rimoa and Oomak and
MacLean. Then there are eight forecastle hands, and Chips, and the
bosun, down below. Numbers are even, more than even! But odds! Oh,
if only a couple of those rifles were in the bosun's hands! If only
Ichi would take them ashore!"

Martin searched the boat with his eyes, but no firearms were visible.
If the boatswain and the lads reached the deck, they would have those
armed watchers to reckon with. Hopeless!

At a sharp order from the steersman, the four oarsmen gave way smartly,
and the boat left the ship's side, headed beachward. It was not one of
the _Cohasset's_ boats, Martin noted. The dingey, in which Little
Billy had sounded to anchorage yesterday, still rode to its painter
under the counter. The rest of their own boats were still snug on the
skids. The whale-boat was Carew's boat in which he had boarded them.

Little Billy! The sight of the dingey brought the hunchback into
Martin's racing thoughts. Where was Little Billy? The paper Yip had
slipped him, fairly burned in his pocket. But, of course, he dare not
attempt to read it here in the midst of his