we have taken the dust out
of her. He must be well posted on her situation since he's got as many
men about him as you have, apparently."

"No, Captain," returned Vandersee, very softly. "He doesn't know that
the dust is taken out. He doesn't know, yet, that your ship is burned.
He simply expected his people to bottle her up in that creek and kill or
drive you off. That was what he was assured would be the case by the
chief of the savages he hired. Their own discovery of the oil may well
upset all his schemes, although they were upset whether the oil was
found or not."

"Oh, well, I won't think about it any more. Next thing you'll tell me
that Houten knew all about this attack, and that he came up just in time
to save us on a prearranged plan."

"Not exactly, but nearer right than you imagine," chuckled Houten. "I
haf been in communication with Hendrik unt his mans effer since t'ree
days ago, mine friendt. I pring opp mine launch as a part ouf a plan,
unt it vas goot, ja? I toldt you it vas goot. Now schleep. I am heavy
for schleep."

Barry dozed, and his last waking thought was of a spider-web of gigantic
size, with two great, fat, laughing spiders in the midst. As his brain
lost its power to register, the spiders changed into smiling, red, fat
faces, and all about the web hung white men and brown who smiled back at
the spiders and watched intently while flies were drawn by some power,
unseen but irresistible, into the web. And the greatest fly, the fly
that struggled, the fly that broke the web over and over, yet never once
forced the fat red smiles from the fat red spiders, was Leyden.

Gray dawn was creeping up in the east when a soft shake awakened Barry,
and he sat up to find the camp astir. During the last hour or two
Vandersee had mustered his far-flung sentries, and now, besides the crew
of the _Barang_ and Houten's men, twenty sturdy naval seamen stood by,
armed and alert.

"The schooner is in sight," Gordon told him. The Englishman was cool and
emotionless now, in face of the approaching crisis in his affairs.
Peering over the hummock, the _Padang_ was dimly seen emerging out of
the river mists, and as she drew near the devastated creek, sharp voices
could be heard on her forecastle head directing the preparing of an
anchor. But, leaving nothing to chance, Vandersee had manned Houten's
big launch and she was ready, held by a single line; and as the schooner
swung around the last bend and let her can