ersary. A rapid exchange of crisp sentences passed between the host
and Little, and the former nodded. He busied himself with Leyden and his
vociferous friends, had the damaged man taken to a private room, and
made the way clear for Little to hustle Barry out of the hotel and into
a barouche.

"I can't blame you, Jack," grinned the salesman as the carriage rolled
away. "It was what we wanted, after all; but it may cause trouble yet.
Some hothead, old scout! I'll look out I keep off your corns myself. Now
we'll get to the front and watch for the _Barang_. She's about due, and
the town's too hot for us after this."

An hour later an anchor was let go somewhere out in the night. Little
had secured a boatman, and the two friends put off to the brigantine
full of self-congratulatory chuckles; for, whether Leyden had pulled
strings to arrest his assailant or not, the mannikin at the end of the
string had as yet shown no signs of jumping.

As they neared the dark shape of the vessel, two market boats left her
shadow, and voices came across the water, signifying the correct tally
of sundry stores. Then the _Barang's_ anchor came up again immediately
her new skipper set his foot on deck, the topsail yard, lowered to the
cap on anchoring, was jerked aloft, and the brigantine stood silently
out of the roadstead.

CHAPTER THREE

Cape Lapa, at the east end of Madura Island, was smoky and indistinct on
the port quarter when Captain Barry came out of his stateroom after two
brief hours of sleep. He had kept the deck through the night until the
brigantine was well away; now, with a natural curiosity, he rose early
to take a survey of his new command and her crew. Coming on board at
black midnight he had sensed rather than seen his first officer. How far
that first shadowy impression had satisfied him was evident when he
permitted himself to sleep without verifying it by daylight. His crew he
had only seen as noiseless shapes between dark bulwarks as they slid
rather than ran in response to the officers' orders in getting to sea.

The _Barang_ had a deckhouse companion,--that is, a square house built
over and around the head of the companionway stairs, forming a
convenient chart room for the officers or a snug smoking lounge for
possible passengers. By the open door of this house Barry stood for a
few moments, gazing intently at the picture he had snatched from Leyden,
and which had remained in his pocket after the encount