ther the
tackle."

"You go round the other side for the block, Reddy. We better take the
spare boat with us and set it adrift after we clear the channel, or load
it with stones and let it go down after we are clear of the island. Then
we'll get the wind and slip down the coast to the first native town.
That's better than waiting to be picked up and having to answer questions
that wouldn't carry by. No Manila-bound boat for us, to land about the
time the _Kut Sang_ was reported overdue."

"Right ye are, Thirkle," said Petrak, stumbling about in the dark. "It's
black as a Kroo boy in here," and presently he began to drag the block
through the dead leaves and brambles.

"'No need for the tackle, sir, once we get clear of the sand, in my mind.
We can skid 'em with oars, and lighten the stowed one--hey, Thirkle? I
ain't for leavin' no marks hereabouts, and we can drag some bushes over
the wake we leave in the sand, so--"

"We'll see about that when we get clear," said Thirkle gruffly. "Hold yer
lip now."

Thirkle was busy pulling the palm-leaves from the boats and clearing the
litter with which they had covered their cache. I could hear him tugging
at the sail which they had spread over the outer boat. The moonlight was
getting brighter, and more stars were coming out, and the jungle was
beginning to awaken. A lizard set up a monotonous croak in the branches
overhead, and insects and unseen things began to stir in the foliage.

"Blast this mess of halyards and gear Bucky strewed alongside--"

I heard Thirkle draw his breath sharply as he left the sentence
unfinished. He drew away from the boat in a quick, involuntary movement,
and I managed to twist my neck so that I could observe him. He stood
motionless for a minute, his figure a queer fretwork of light and shadow
from the creepers and palms.

"Reddy!" he called cautiously. "Oh, Petrak!" Something in his tones--a
suggestion of suspicion that everything was not right--thrilled me.
Petrak did not hear him as he was fumbling with the block in the sand and
muttered about a jammed rope.

"Petrak!"

"Aye," said Petrak. "I'll give ye a hand next minute, sir."

"Come here," commanded Thirkle with a hand on a pistol.

"What's up?" demanded Petrak, getting to his feet. "Can't ye start
it--what's wrong, Thirkle?"

"Come up here and haul out some of the gear in this boat--move navy
style, lad--we can't be wasting the whole night! Reach in there and
clear that mess of