he darkness: silent,
ghostlike shapes that moved as noiselessly as shadows themselves,
vanishing over the open main hatchway,--two score even as he watched.
And vague as it all was, he knew that they were no sailors, nor even
Mission natives; their headdress and crouching gait betrayed them as
natives from the interior.

Barry glared helplessly, fearing to move either way lest he make some
noise that should attract these jungle-men to his own disaster; and
again his popping eyes stretched wider, and all his muscles quivered,
for out of the schooner's main cabin, by way of the main-deck doors,
stepped a figure in white, a female figure, walking quickly across the
deck to the gangway.

"It's Natalie!" breathed Barry, bewildered. He watched the girl until
she topped the gangway and went down it, a vision of utter freedom and
ease of mind. He dropped silently into the punt and startled Little with
his news.

"Just visiting, hey?" remarked the salesman. "Seems to like his company,
anyway. Suppose we'd better leave her to her own affairs."

"I suppose so," growled Barry forlornly. "Let's shove in under the wharf
a minute, Little. I want to say something to her. She's going to the
post, apparently, and here it is long past midnight."

"Go ahead," grunted Little. "Barry, if we ever come across one single
man in this goose chase that isn't wrapped in mystery, I'll kiss him, by
Hokey!"

They drew the punt under the wharf well astern of the schooner,
wondering, with all those men on board, why the _Padang_ kept so
careless a watch. Barry climbed up a pile and walked swiftly in the
direction of the stockade, to intercept Natalie, and soon he saw a white
figure hurrying towards him. He stepped out with a greeting and an
excuse, and for the second time in ten minutes received a shock that
almost paralyzed speech.

The woman was not Natalie--it was Mrs. Goring--and her face showed
confusion at meeting him.

"I beg your pardon--I thought you were Miss Sheldon," stammered the
skipper, doffing his hat awkwardly.

"Did you really expect to meet Miss Sheldon at this hour of the night,
here?" she returned. Her tone was sharp.

"No, but I was near the schooner, and thought I saw her come ashore.
You know the last thing I heard of her was that she had vanished. It was
natural that I should want to see her, wasn't it?"

"Oh, forgive me, Captain," the woman cried, and she was again the cheery
friend. "I had forgotten that. Of cou