he assistant did, resolved
to accompany him part way back. Both times men resolutely escorted
us, and as resolutely separated us from the opportunity of a single
word apart. The crew never threatened me by word or look. But we understood
each other.

I was not permitted to row out to the _Laughing Lass_ without
escort. Therefore I never attempted to visit her again. The men were
not anxious to do so, their awe of the captain made them only too glad
to escape his notice. That empty shell of a past reputation was my
only hope. It shielded the arms and ammunition.

As I look back on it now, the period seems to me to be one of merely
potential trouble. The men had not taken the pains to crystallise
their ideas. I really think their compelling emotion was that of
curiosity. They wanted to _see_. It needed a definite impulse
to change that desire to one of greed.

The impulse came from Percy Darrow and his idle talk of voodoos. As
usual he was directing his remarks to the sullen Nigger.

"Voodoos?" he said. "Of course there are. Don't fool yourself for a
minute on that. There are good ones and bad ones. You can tame them
if you know how, and they will do anything you want them to." Pulz
chuckled in his throat. "You don't believe it?" drawled the assistant
turning to him. "Well, it's so. You know that heavy box we are so
careful of? Well, that's got a tame voodoo in it."

The others laughed.

"What he like?" asked the Nigger gravely.

"He's a fine voodoo, with wavery arms and green eyes, and red glows."
Watching narrowly its effect he swung off into one of the genuine old
crooning voodoo songs, once so common down South, now so rarely heard.
No one knows what the words mean--they are generally held to be
charm-words only--a magic gibberish. But the Nigger sprang across the
fire like lightning, his face altered by terror, to seize Darrow by
the shoulders.

"Doan you! Doan you!" he gasped, shaking the assistant violently back
and forth. "Dat he King Voodoo song! Dat call him all de voodoo--all!"

He stared wildly about in the darkness as though expecting to see the
night thronged. There was a moment of confusion. Eager for any chance
I hissed under my breath; "Danger! Look out!"

I could not tell whether or not Darrow heard me. He left soon after.
The mention of the chest had focussed the men's interest.

"Well," Pulz began, "we've been here on this spot o' hell for a long
time."

"A year and five months," reckon