ith relish the job of
issuing rifles and ammunition to his crew.

A little uneasy as the forenoon wore on without a word from outside,
noon found Rolfe and Blunt seeking the guardian of the gate for
information. The gargoyle-faced native was absent, and the gate was
barred; but while they lingered around the stockade the watchman came
in, bringing two of the _Barang's_ men who had gone with Barry.

These were the men who had run down river in chase of the flying gold
washer, and their tattered clothes and bewildered faces gave the mate a
jolt.

"We follow dat man, sar, an' he come close to dis place," one of them
chattered in reply to Rolfe's brusque demand. "Den he go some place we
no can find, an' we see dis station fence. We no t'ink we so near, sar."

"So near?" echoed Rolfe. "How far are the others from here?"

"No can tell, sar. Boat he sail and row all night, an' we t'ink he very
far. Den we run for dat man, an' in one hour--two, mebbe--we come here.
I t'ink dat ribber he twist, sar."

Then, so swiftly that it shocked, out of the forest stumbled another of
the _Barang's_ seamen, panting, thorn-slashed, and frightened.

"Oh, sar!" he gasped, "Cap'n Barry an' Misser Li'l, an' all mans dey
pris'ner in de woods, an' de gol' washers dey all kill, sar!"

"Hey, don't faint yet!" roared Rolfe, seizing the trembling seaman and
hauling him back to his feet. "Prisoners where? Who's got 'em? Leyden?"

"No, sar. Dutch navy man he come an' cotch us, sar. Misser Li'l he fly
cane in de man's face an' say to me, 'Run!' Oh, verry bad, sar."

The man collapsed at the mate's feet, and Bill Blunt sent two men to
carry him inside the hut. When he rejoined Rolfe, he found that
perplexed worthy staring in fresh puzzlement at Natalie Sheldon, then
coming in through the gate, flushed and excited.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Rolfe awkwardly awaited the torrent of questions that obviously trembled
on the girl's lips. He saw behind her the dwarf of the gate, shrugging
his deformed shoulders in disgust at the intrusion of a feminine factor
at such a time. Miss Sheldon came directly towards him and spoke
hurriedly, agitatedly.

"Mr. Rolfe, some wickedness is going on. What is it? Why have you come
here to shatter our little people's peace?"

"Me? I ain't shattered anybody's peace, Miss," returned Rolfe, as
puzzled as she. "Wickedness--yes, ma'am, I know that. But it ain't
wickedness of mine, nor my skipper's. D' ye think we'd be