and, for one wild moment, Stuart
thought of making a fight for it and going to the rescue of his father.
But his better sense prevailed. Even supposing he could get the drop on
the negro--which was by no means sure--he could not mount guard on him
perpetually. Moreover, if he got near enough to try and tie him up, one
sweep of those brawny arms would render him powerless.

"And if I do not go?" he asked.

"But you do go," declared Hippolyte. "It is I who will see to that,
Yes!"

"Was it Manuel who sent you the money?"

"Ah, the good money!" The negro showed his teeth in a wide grin.
"Manuel, he tell Jules to find boy named Stuart. If you big, tie you and
take you to the forest; if little, send you away from the island."

This was one point gained, thought Stuart. Manuel, at least, did not
know what he looked like.

"I suppose I've got to go to Cap Haitien."

"But, Yes."

"And when?"

"But now, Yes!"

"It's a long walk," protested Stuart. "Twenty miles or more."

"We not walk, No! Get mules near. Now, we start."

The boy had hoped, in some way, to get the negro out of the hut and to
make a bolt for the woods where he might lie hidden, but this sudden
action prevented any such ruse. He turned to the table to put into his
knapsack the couple of changes of clothing he had brought. There was no
way for him to take his father's clothes, but the boy opened the larger
knapsack and took all the papers and documents.

"See here, Hippolyte," he said. "I give you all these clothes. I take
the papers."

The negro grinned a white-toothed smile at the gift. He cared nothing
about the papers. He would do what Jules had paid him to do, and no
more.

As they left the hut, it seemed to Stuart that the nerve-racking beating
of the tom-tom sounded louder and nearer. They walked a mile or so,
then, as Hippolyte suggested, at a small half-abandoned plantation, they
found mules. Once mounted, the negro set off at breakneck speed, caring
nothing about the roughness of the road, all the more treacherous
because of the dead-black of the shadows against the vivid green-silver
patches where the tropical moonlight shone through.

"What's the hurry?" clamored Stuart, who could see no reason for this
mad and reckless riding.

"The dance stop at dawn! I want to be back, Yes!"

They galloped on as before.

A few miles from the town, Stuart snatched at an idea which flashed upon
him suddenly.

"Hippolyte," he said. "You want t