arrow point where the river
entered the little harbor. "A week in this place and half of us would
be down with coast fever."

An exclamation from Ralph, who was in the bow, came next, as the yawl
passed the last leafy point, and the surface of the anchorage became
visible.

"What now?" demanded Duff.

CHAPTER XIX.

Left Behind.

No reply was necessary, for in another instant both the mate and the
sailor comprehended the cause of Ralph's surprise and alarm.

The Wanderer was nowhere to be seen.

The entire surface of the small, landlocked bay was as deserted and
seemingly untouched by man's presence, as if human eyes had never
beheld its solitude. A glimpse of the inlet and the breakers far out
on the bar beyond was visible between two islets.

They could hear the monotonous thunder of the surf and discern a glassy
ocean farther out, for the morning was calm, promising also to be
intensely hot.

The surprise of each was so supreme that for an instant nothing was
said. Finally the mate, with an expression of deep perplexity on his
countenance, said:

"I cannot understand it at all. Let us row to the landing. Perhaps we
may gain some clue to the mystery."

So they pulled across to the part of the harbor where the schooner had
been anchored when Duff, heading the boat for the shore, plunged them
into the leafy recesses that overhung the water. Having once
penetrated this outer curtain, Ralph saw they were close to a rude
landing made of logs sunk endways into the oozy bottom, and floored
with large canes similar to bamboo.

A sort of corduroy road led into the swamp, and disappeared amid the
trees. Upon a post near by was an old marlin spike with something
white fluttering beneath. This attracted the mate's eye.

"Here we are," said he, detaching the bit of paper. "Perhaps this will
give us a little light."

And he read as follows:

"3 bells sekund dog watch. gOt to git out. Uncle Sam on the Lookoute.
cap ses yu must shift fer yure selves."

"That looks as if a fo'c'stle fist had written it," remarked Duff
ruminatively. "I have felt for some time that Gary wouldn't object to
being rid of a few of us."

"'E's a bloomin' fool," quoth Ben, evidently feeling that this exigency
had removed all restraint of speech as regarded the captain. "Wot will
'e do short handed with a hundred or more black devils aboard in case
trouble comes? Barrin' I were out o' here though, I wouldn't care if I