irst volunteer; the
skipper ordered him to get out, but he said he was deaf. Anyhow, I'm
glad he is there. Courtenay ought to have one sure enough white man by
his side."

"And what are they attempting?"

"Huh, it's a bold plan, an' I'm not goin' to condemn it on that
account. Have you heard this morning's news--how Suarez found out from
the Indians that eleven of our crew are hiding in a cave on Guanaco
Hill?"

"Something of it, not all. But why--why has Captain Courtenay gone off
in such a hurry?"

"Well, Miss Elsie, he figures that an open effort by daylight is the
only way to rescue them. They will have seen our signals, and they can
hardly fail to sight the boat. When he is close inshore they are sure
to make a dash for it, and he hopes to get them off before the Indians
wake up to the game he is playing. There are eight men in the boat,
and, with eleven others to help, there shouldn't be much difficulty in
keepin' the savages at a proper distance."

"How soon--will he--reach the landing-place?"

"Huh, mebbe an hour; an' another hour for the home trip. He'll be
aboard for tea."

Boyle uttered that concluding statement a trifle too airily. Elsie,
for the first time in her life, knew what it meant to want to scream
aloud.

The dog was dancing about excitedly, and whining without cease. She
stooped and took him up in her arms.

"Please, Joey, be quiet," she murmured, her voice breaking with a
stifled sob. She turned again to Mr. Boyle, who sedulously avoided her
eyes.

"Did Captain Courtenay leave any message for me?" she demanded.

"Huh! Message! Why, he will be away only a couple of hours."

The chief officer's tone was gruff, conveying the idea that women asked
silly questions, but his gruffness did not hoodwink Elsie. He had
prepared his replies beforehand.

"Surely you will tell me, Mr. Boyle?" she pleaded wistfully.

"Well, I happen to know there's a letter in the doctor's hands. But
that is to be given to you in case of accident alone. Isn't that so,
doctor? And there's no sign of any accident yet, thank goodness!"

Boyle sighed, like a man who lays down a heavy load. He had
successfully engineered Christobal into the conversation.

The Spaniard drew near. He had heard all that had passed, and tried a
new line.

"I was rather hoping that you would not put that awkward query," he
said, more alive than the sailor to the wisdom of discussing the very
topic which offered s