El Diablo Part 18

"I knew I could get him," a girlish voice called from above. d.i.c.kie Lang jumped down with shining eyes and made her way toward him. "Buck up," he heard her say. But the voice trailed away into silence.

When he regained consciousness, the girl was bending over him, rubbing his numbed limbs and slapping his cold flesh violently.

"You'll be all right in a minute," she said. "Don't try to talk now. Lie still and rest. Feel better?"

He nodded. As he moved his head he noticed the two figures lying close beside him. Noting the questioning look in his eyes, d.i.c.kie explained:

"They're all right or will be in a little while. I'm looking after them.

When they come to, I'm going to tie them up." She flourished a small coil of rope.

As his strength returned Gregory began to pick up the loose threads.

"Howard?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Don't know where he is. Couldn't see him. Don't worry. Chances are he's all right. He's hard as nails. When you can walk we'll go and look for him."

They found the fisherman huddled against the rocks at the bottom of the small crevice. Close by his side lay the scar-faced islander. Both men were unconscious.

Gregory examined Howard carefully.

"His leg is broken," he announced. "And he's pretty well bruised up. He must have got an awful jolt when he fell on these rocks." Jumping up, he exclaimed: "I'll go and get something for splints," he said. "Make him as comfortable as you can."

When he returned d.i.c.kie noticed he carried a heavy oar which he had fashioned into a rude crutch, a number of small strips of wood and a piece of an old blanket.

"Found them on the _Petrel_," he said as he set to work.

d.i.c.kie a.s.sisted Gregory in caring for the wounded man. Her respect for the young man increased as she noted the skilful manner with which he worked. Soon Howard's leg was set and after a time he opened his eyes and slowly regained consciousness. The sun was high overhead when they were able to move the injured men. While Howard rested for a moment on the ledge, Gregory carried the unconscious form of the other man to the soft sea-gra.s.s and stretched him at full length. Then he thought of the two men they had left on the narrow shelf by the sea.

"I'd better have a look at Red-beard and the other fellow," he said suddenly. "The water might come in there and wash them off."

d.i.c.kie nodded. "I'll stay here," she said, and Gregory hurried off.

When he came back he shook his head. "Gone," he announced.

"Washed off?"

"Don't think so. The water hadn't quite got to where we left them. I guess they sneaked."

d.i.c.kie's eyes searched the sea while he spoke.

"I can't understand what is keeping the boys from the _Curlew_," she said. "We'd better get Tom aboard the _Petrel_ where we can make him more comfortable. Better bring the other fellow too. There's some whisky on the boat unless those devils have stolen it too. h.e.l.lo, what's that?"

The quiet was broken by the sharp clatter of horses' hoofs. Looking in the direction of the sound, Gregory saw a number of hors.e.m.e.n riding over the crest of the bluff overlooking the cove.

The fisherman glanced toward the dory which lay on the rocks at the extreme end of the ledge.

"Better beat it," he suggested.

d.i.c.kie Lang shook her head stubbornly. "No," she said. "We'll leave that man here and the rest of us will get aboard. The _Petrel's_ on tide land and I'll be d.a.m.ned if any one's going to bluff me out."

CHAPTER XII

A WARNING

From the _Petrel's_ sloping deck they saw the hors.e.m.e.n appear in bold silhouette against the sky-line. Swinging from their saddles they walked to meet a white-shirted rider who galloped over the ridge and drew rein among them.

The newcomer remained astride his horse. Resting an arm on the horn of his saddle, he stared into the little cove through his binoculars.

Satisfied apparently by what he saw, he dismounted and walked rapidly toward the trail leading to the beach, the men following after him. As they took their way down the cliff Gregory noticed that some of the men carried rifles. When they reached the beach the white-shirted man walked on alone, and without a backward glance, traversed the rocks in the direction of the wreck.

"He walks like a king," commented d.i.c.kie Lang. "I wonder if that is Bandrist."

Gregory noted the clean-cut figure of the stranger carefully. The man was about his own height though of slighter build, the spareness of his figure being emphasized by the close-fitting riding-trousers and the thin silk shirt which fluttered about him as he strode along. The fair-haired stranger stopped abruptly when he reached the _Petrel's_ side. Flinging an arm upward with a careless gesture, and looking straight at the girl, he said quietly:

"I am unarmed. May I come aboard your vessel?"

Only the slightest trace of the foreigner was discernible in his speech.

d.i.c.kie Lang nodded. "Come ahead," she said. "Whoever you are, you can speak English at least."

The visitor smiled as he caught the mast-stay and drew himself gracefully over the rail.

"I am Leo Bandrist," he introduced. "I fear my men have caused you some annoyance. I am sorry."

d.i.c.kie rehea.r.s.ed the incidents leading up to the trouble with the natives and when she had concluded, Bandrist's forehead wrinkled in a frown.

"I am very sorry," he repeated. "My men, you see, are very stupid. Very ignorant. They understand but little English. Then, too, I have been annoyed by others. You see, I have many sheep and wild goats upon the island. Hunters come to shoot the goats, but they often mistake my sheep for them. Fishermen also have caused me great trouble. I have fenced my lands to keep them out; put up the signs the law tells me I must to protect myself. But no, they disregard my rights. So I give my men instructions to keep them out. When my rangers are opposed they grow ugly. One of them tells me that one of your number began the attack.

That angered them, you see, and they fought back. It was but natural.

However, I am sorry. I trust that none of your party has been seriously injured."

"Small thanks to you," d.i.c.kie snapped. "Your men tried hard enough to commit murder." Nodding in the direction of the unconscious islander, she added: "There's one of your outfit stretched out over there. Another was half-drowned. The third tried to knife Mr. Gregory. I hit him in the head with a monkey-wrench. They both got away or were washed off the ledge."

Bandrist shot a quick glance at Gregory as the girl mentioned the cannery owner's name. At the girl's reference to her part in the affair his eyes lighted with interest. Then the frown came again to his face.

"That is the trouble," he said quickly. "My men do not understand. They know only one way to fight. That is to win. If you will permit me, I shall summon the others to care for their companion."

He waited for the girl's consent. Then he waved his hand to the men on the beach. When they were within ear-shot, Bandrist addressed them rapidly, nodding toward the spot indicated by d.i.c.kie Lang. As the men hurried away, he explained:

"They come to me from many countries. Some of them are bad and cause me much trouble. It is so lonesome out here that I can not keep good men. I tell my fence-riders only to keep people away so that they will not kill my sheep. Some of them I arm as you see, because those who hunt also carry guns and are sometimes ugly."

He spread out his slender fingers apologetically.

"Again I am sorry," he said. "If you desire to work now I will see that you are undisturbed, if you will promise to leave the island when you are through. You see I do not want any more trouble," he concluded with frank emphasis. "My men will be very angry when they find their wounded comrade. Sometimes it is difficult for me to restrain them."

The excited jargon of the islanders as they came upon their disabled fellow confirmed the truth of his words. Jabbering to themselves, and casting sullen glances in the direction of the _Petrel_, they carried the man over the ledge to the beach.

"Mr. Bandrist," said d.i.c.kie clearly. "I've as much right to be here as you have. You can't legally keep me from taking the engine out of this boat. She's on tide and you haven't any more claim to that than I have.