ng group,
only Peg-leg protested.

"Yeah, you'll get them all right--if the Jezbro don't get you first!"
Peg-leg said.

Retch overheard the words. "Come here, Peg-leg, I want to talk to you."

The old sailor stumped his way to where Retch stood.

"Aye, Cap'n." He saluted. A look of surprise appeared on the old
sailor's face as the first heavy slug hit him. As the second, third, and
fourth slugs hit him, the expression of surprise became one of agony. He
fell without a sound.

* * * * *

Retch stood looking down at him.

The group was silent. Gotch hastily lowered his sword.

"I don't want to hear any more superstitious talk," Retch said. "There
are a lot of funny things here on this island but there is nothing to be
afraid of--except _this_!" He patted the stock of the stumpy little gun
he held. "And there's enough stuff up there to make all of us rich;
we'll have everything we can ever want." A glow crept into Retch's eyes
as he spoke. They glowed with a yellow color and the yellow seemed to
come out of his eyes and spread over his face. He glanced down at
Peg-leg.

"Dump him into the sea," he said, walking away.

The two men climbing the ledge reached the opening. They stopped there
and apparently held a conference with the man who was already inside.
They went inside. A few minutes later, one appeared at the opening.

"You can come on up now," he yelled, waving his gun. "All secure here."

"Gotch!"

"Yes, Cap'n."

"Come on."

Gotch went up the ledge with Retch. He went in shivering fear which he
tried desperately to conceal.

"What the hell are you scared of?" Retch snarled at him.

"Nuthin', nuthin', Cap'n. Nuthin'."

"You yellow-livered--" Retch stopped in midsentence. A sound was in the
air, the cheeping of a sleepy bird. It was a tiny sound, fragile,
distant, far-away, almost too weak to register on the ears. Hearing it,
Retch jerked his eyes to the sky, seeking the source.

Gotch threw himself flat on the ledge.

"The Jezbro!" Gotch gasped. "God--God--"

Looking at the sky, Retch caught a glimpse of something moving there. It
looked like a bird, but it was like no bird he had ever seen in his
life. It was more like shadow--a darkness that had a darting elusive
silver color about it.

Like a swooping hawk, it was diving toward the ground, aiming at the
group clustered in the trees at the spot where the ledge began to rise
up the face of the cliff. As it