hip and get men
to carry them on board. Barry peered dubiously at the entrance to a
narrow trail winding about the stockade and disappearing into the thick,
odorous jungle. Then he glanced at the sky and the tree tops. The sun
told him it was yet far from noon; the foliage sleepily indicated the
prolonged absence of a breeze.

"Leyden can't get up to-day, Little," he decided. "Go and tell Rolfe to
give you the men you need. Take the dust aboard and lock it in the safe.
It's your job, anyhow. I'm going to hunt up the Mission."

For a moment the Imp of Mischief prompted Little to perilous speech. He
caught Barry's glittering eye in time and merely replied: "Aye, aye,
sir. Don't forget what you told me: with man, woman, or missionary, keep
your gun butt handy. That bush looks shivery. Be good and look after
yourself."

He swung off down the wharf path, and Barry stepped into the side trail.
The sailor had not covered twenty feet, shivering involuntarily at the
uncanny hush of the jungle, when he heard a faint rustling behind him.
Before he could turn, a queer _whirr_ whistled in the air, followed
swiftly by a hollow thudding sound as of an ax biting into a rotten log.
Then an unearthly shriek rang out that chilled his blood.

Just in time he leaped aside and avoided a flying creese that shot from
the outflung brown hand of a fallen Malay. And, sticking in the man's
naked back, between the shoulder blades, was the haft of a heavy
throwing-knife similar to that which had so narrowly missed his own head
on board the _Barang_.

He savagely stirred the dead man with his foot and rolled the body over,
face up. The next instant his shout recalled Little at a run.

"Look, Little! Know this fellow?" he uttered.

"Mindjee--the missing sailor!" gasped Little, wide-eyed.

"Wait," snapped Barry. He plucked out the knife and ran back to the
gate, still plainly in sight. On the parapet, in his old place, the
brown dwarf squatted, expressionless as the Sphinx.

"Here, Johnny, you throw this?" Barry demanded, holding up the knife.

"Me t'row, all right. Give it." The skinny brown paw reached down for
the weapon. All interest had apparently departed for the gatekeeper with
the return of his knife. Barry was not so easily satisfied.

"That won't do for me," he persisted. "Did you mean to hit that Malay,
or did you just miss me, hey? Where did you get this sticker, anyhow?
I've seen it before. Talk quick, now!"

"You savvee dat