being near him at all," Mrs. Goring shuddered violently,
and Barry saw in her face a look of furious loathing that implanted
still another question for future investigation in his already burdened
mind. She went on: "If I have persuaded you of the necessity for leaving
Leyden's fate in Vandersee's hands, Captain, I shall see you start out
to find Natalie with glad heart, and God speed you."

"Then speed me now," laughed Barry, buckling on a cartridge belt and
looking to the magazine of his automatic pistol. "Tell me one thing,
though, to quite settle my doubts: What makes you so certain that Leyden
can't harm Natalie, if she is in his hands? Then I'll go like a shot."

"You saw the dwarf at the gate?"

"Oh, yes, and he's a good hand at flinging a silent knife!"

"There's your answer, Captain. He, or another of his tribe, is within
knife-throw of Leyden every minute!"

"Oh, good!" cried the skipper. "Then if I find gargoyle-face, I find
Miss Sheldon too, eh?"

"If she has joined Leyden, yes, Captain. I hope you find her and can
bring her back. I will tell Mr. Vandersee where you have gone. I
expected him before this. Good luck."

Barry went out, grimacing sourly in spite of himself. Always Vandersee!
Every turn in the course Vandersee!

"Oh, well," he grinned, regaining his good temper as he caught sight of
Little coming towards him, armed to the teeth, "I'm skipper of a ship
that's a home for mud-eels at present; so I may as well do as friend
Little does, take all in good part until my boss says fight, then take
all my grouch out of the fellow I scrap with."

Little swung in alongside of the skipper, and as they went out through
the stockade gate, he chattered on:

"Been snooping around, Barry, while you were flirting with the fair lady
inside, and I found out that our friend over the gate has gone off on a
job too. Figuring out the things that have gone before, I conclude
perhaps he's trying to trail Miss Natalie, hey? Good Sherlock stuff,
what?"

"Mighty good, but late," grinned the skipper. He briefly recounted what
Mrs. Goring had told him, and Little's face drew down in dismay.

"Gosh!" he grumbled. "Every time I put two and two together they make
five! When I sold typewriters, if I sold twice as many machines on a
trip as I did the trip before, I used to figure that the demand had
doubled: but out here in the jungle, by golly, if I get a lot o' clues
and map out a plan o' campaign from 'em, I find th