other
far, faint explosion drifted to us.

We landed a couple of hundred yards to the right of the spit and dragged
our little boat into some bushes close to the shore.

I gave Smith instructions to stay where he was unless he heard the
hooting of an owl. If the call came once he was to advance very quietly;
if twice, as fast as he could cover the ground.

The mosquitoes were a veritable plague. As I moved forward they swarmed
around me in a cloud. Unfortunately I had not taken the time to bring
the face netting with which we all equipped ourselves when going ashore.

Before I had covered fifty yards I heard voices raised as in anger.
Presently I made out the sharp, imperious tones of Bothwell and the
dogged persistent ones of Henry Fleming.

"I'll do as I please. Understand that, my man!" The words were snapped
out with a steel edge to them.

"No, by thunder, you won't! I don't care about the cattleman, but
Gallagher and Alderson were my shipmates. I'm no murderous pirate."

"You'll hang for one, you fool, if you're not careful. Didn't Gallagher
desert to the enemy? Wasn't Alderson against us from start to finish?
Didn't one of them give me this hole in my arm just now? They'll either
join us or go to the sharks," Bothwell announced curtly.

From where I stood, perhaps forty yards north of the cache, I could make
out that my friends were prisoners. No doubt the pirate had taken them
at advantage and forced a surrender. Of Barbados I could see no sign.
Later I learned that he had taken to his heels at the first shot.

Twice I gave the hoot of an owl. Falling clearly on the still night, the
effect of my signal was startling.

"What was that, boss?" asked a Panamanian faintly.

"An owl, you fool," retorted Bothwell impatiently. "Come, I give you one
more chance, Gallagher. Will you join us and share the booty? Or shall
I blow out your brains?"

Gallagher, from where he lay on the ground, spoke out firmly:

"I'll sail no more with murderous mutineers."

"Bully for you, partner!" boomed the undaunted voice of the cattleman.

"And you, Alderson?"

"I stand with my friends, Captain Bothwell."

"The more fool you, for you'll be a long time dead. Stand back,
Fleming."

As I ran forward I let out a shout.

Simultaneously a revolver cracked.

Bothwell cursed furiously, for Henry Fleming had struck up the arm of
the murderer.

The Russian turned furiously on the engineer and fired point-blank at
him.