wicked enough
to sink our own ship?"

"Sink--your ship? Why--how--"

"Yes, Miss, our ship. And what's more, if you don't mind, I can't stop
chawing the rag here; Captain Barry and Mr. Little are in danger o'
their lives, by all accounts."

"Then it was true!" cried Natalie, her eyes gleaming with a hope that
had almost gone from her. "They have been caught, as Mr. Leyden told me
they would. Why did you begin your hateful work here?"

"What did Leyden tell ye, mum?" old Bill Blunt put in, with gruff
gentleness. He saw Rolfe's utter bewilderment.

"Oh, you are a new man," she cried. "You cannot know that the men you
are with are engaged in planting the curse of opium in this beautiful
land, where our Mission has almost reaped the fruits of years of labor."

"Opium be damned--beg your pardon, lady," exploded and apologized Rolfe,
near bursting with rage. "If opium's being run in here, I can guess
who's doing it. Not to mention names, ma'am, his tally begins with
Leyden. None came in the _Barang_, I'll swear."

"Me too, Miss," rejoined Blunt heartily. "New man I may be, but I ain't
new among men, an' it ain't men like Cap'n Barry as runs p'isen to poor
niggers."

All the while they were arguing the matter, Rolfe's men were busy
preparing for their march to Barry's assistance. Food and water and
emergency medical supplies had to be rummaged for and packed; a
wood-wise guide had to be obtained through the agency of the gateman.
Miss Sheldon hovered nervously about them, struggling hard with some
emotion within her, gazing searchingly from face to face as if to find
there an answer to the problem that troubled her.

The _Barang's_ men certainly looked anything but the rascals she had
been told they were; she had never seen sailors more utterly peaceable
in their demeanor. When the preparations were nearly complete, and but a
few minutes could remain before the party set out, she forced a decision
herself.

"Mr. Rolfe, I am afraid," she said in low, tremulous tones.

"Nothing to be afraid of in us, ma'am," growled the mate, hauling a
second cartridge belt tight about his waist.

"No, not of you, but of everything. Wait, please," she begged, seeing
signs of impatience in the sailor's face. "Let me tell you; then advise
me, please. This horrible traffic is being carried on, without any
doubt. It has broken Mr. Gordon and has drawn nearly all our native men
from their lawful work and the Church. All the Mission men