me, for I would not risk the use of the paddle."

"Twenty miles at least," muttered Dick, staring out across the water.

"And too far to risk a rush. There is no moon to-night, Dick, and that
would be against us, for if we steamed up, it would be at full speed,
and we should come back at the same pace also. Well, for that we want
light. There may be banks here and there. The risk of collision would
be great. In short, I'm dead against it. Don't think I'm funking; I'm
not. We are here to gather information, and, of course, we would effect
a rescue if possible. We are not authorised to act rashly, and endanger
the whole expedition by making an attempt which is foredoomed to
failure. In short, we are supposed to possess common sense and courage,
and in the decision of this question it appears to me that it requires
more courage to say, `no, it can't be done; we must leave the poor
beggar,' than it does to stoke our fires and steam up the river at full
speed."

There was no doubt that Jack Emmett had placed the facts of the matter
in a nutshell, and that it pained him to say what he had said. Dick
knew him well enough now to be sure that his companion had, sufficient
dash and daring for this or any other expedition, and he knew well, too,
that if he, the leader of this little party, gave the word, the movement
would be commenced without a murmur, and every effort made to carry it
through to a satisfactory conclusion. But had he the right to give such
an order? Might he risk the lives of all for one, and that one not an
Englishman? Could he leave him to his fate, knowing that he only lay
some twenty miles away?

"Impossible! I would rather risk anything," he said aloud. "You are
right, Jack," he exclaimed, turning to his friend. "I am not justified
in asking the men to join in such a dash--hair-brained attempt it would
be called. Besides, this expedition is sent here for a purpose, and
that is to gather news of the utmost importance. That is our aim and
object in coming here, and we must keep it prominently before us. There
is just one saving clause."

"That is?" demanded Jack, breathlessly.

"That I have a subaltern, as I may call you. If I am shot, or fall ill,
the launch need not return, as once before happened to us, on my
account, I grieve to state. The launch would remain and carry out the
work."

"Quite so. But I don't follow. I hope you won't be shot. If you are,
then, of course, I sh