he darkness
with a ready revolver to investigate the approaching light. "We get a
boat from the lighthouse keeper to go to Punta Arenas in. He's a
devout member of some peculiar sect, and he's seen enough of the hell
Punta Arenas amounts to, to believe what I told him of its cause. His
wife will look after Paula, and this boy will hitch a team to the
plane and haul it out of sight early in the morning. With the help of
God, we'll kill Ribiera and The Master before sunset to-morrow."

CHAPTER XVI

But they did not kill The Master before nightfall. It was not quite
practicable. Bell and Jamison started out well before dawn with a
favorable wind and tide, in the small launch the wizened Welshman
placed at their disposal. His air was one of dour piety, but he
accepted Bell's offer of money with an obvious relief, and criticized
his Paraguayan currency with an acid frankness until Jamison produced
Argentine pesos sufficient to pay for the boat three times over.

"I think," said Jamison dryly, "that Pau--that Miss Canalejas is safe
enough until we come back. The keeper is a godly man and knows we
have money. She'll be in no danger, except of her soul. They may try
to save that."

Bell did not answer. He could think of nothing but the mission he had
set himself. He tinkered with the engine to make it speed up, and set
the sails with infinite care to take every possible advantage of the
stiff breeze that blew. During the day, those sails proved almost as
much of a nuisance as a help. The fiendish, sullen williwaws that blow
furiously and without warning about the Strait required watching, and
more than once it was necessary to reef everything and depend on the
motor alone.

Bell watched the horizon ahead with smouldering eyes. Jamison watched
him almost worriedly.

"Look here, Bell," he said at last, "you'll get nowhere feeling like
you do. I know you've done The Master more damage than I have, but
you'll just run your head into a trap unless you use your brains. For
instance, you didn't ask about communications. There's a direct
telegraph wire from Cape Virgins to Buenos Aires, and there's
telephonic communication between the Cape and Punta Arenas. Do you
imagine that the plane wasn't seen when it came in the Cape? And do
you imagine The Master doesn't know we're here?"

* * * * *

Bell turned, then, and frowned blackly.

"I hadn't thought of it," he said grimly, "but I put some han