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The quake rumble had ceased. Above the simmering moan of the steam, Martin heard the death wail of the trio, a wild, hideous shriek that grew fainter and fainter, farther and farther away, and finally merged completely with the other sound.
The greenish glow subsided into the depths from which it had sprung.
The black gloom swept down over the caves, covering all save the narrow circles about the lanterns. And Martin squatted, sick and shaken, by one lantern, and stared beyond the ledge at the other lantern. By it stood Little Billy.
CHAPTER XX
TREASURE CAVE
"Is it little Billy?" thought Martin. "No, it can't be. Little Billy is on board, planning the uprising, directing Yip and Bosun." The guess he had made, born of hope and Ruth's hurried whisper, that Little Billy was at large on the ship, combated the evidence of his sight. He could not believe it was Little Billy.
But then the voice came across from the other entrance. It was unmistakably Billy's voice.
"Martin, Martin! Are you all right?"
Martin found his own voice then. He shouted loudly, "Billy, Billy!"
He staggered to his feet, intent on joining the other. But Little Billy was already on the ledge, sidling towards him.
An instant later he was pawing the hunchback, and gabbling gladly, "Billy, Billy!" It really was Little Billy, a real flesh and blood Billy. The mere feel of him was medicine to Martin's sick soul; it shoved back the horror of the last few minutes. He was almost hysterical, so intense was his relief and joy at having Little Billy by his side.
But the hunchback's first words effectually checked this mood. "Ruth!"
he said. "My G.o.d, Martin--the ship--Ruth--what has happened!"
It was like a cold blast--these words. They shocked Martin sober, blew the stupor from his mind. "Ruth--the ship!"
"Is she--is she--" stuttered Little Billy.
"All right. So far. Carew has the ship. But there is a plan--"
Martin stopped. The plan! Good Lord, what now of the plan? He had taken it for granted that Little Billy was on the ship, directing a rescue. Why, Yip had pa.s.sed him a note from Little Billy----
That note! Martin clapped his hand to his hip pocket.
"What is it?" cried Little Billy. "Talk to me--tell me, Martin, about the ship--Ruth!"
Martin bent over the lantern, and unfolded the paper he had drawn from his pocket. It was a mere sc.r.a.p of paper, hurriedly and irregularly torn from a larger sheet; on it, in Ruth's hand, was penciled a few words.
"Grandfather has regained his sight--courage, dear--Yip has a plan.
The noon meal."
Their eyes met above the papers, Martin's kindling with understanding, Little Billy's bewildered.
"By George, she wrote it!" exclaimed Martin. "I know--she slipped it to Yip in the cabin, and he slipped it to me. And all the time I thought I had a note you had written. She wrote it--Ruth!"
All of a sudden Martin realized that the hunchback's presence by his side was a mystery. For the first time his eyes began to critically inspect his companion. Revealed in the lantern light, Little Billy was a truly pitiful figure, coatless, shoeless, clad only in sea-soiled trousers and singlet. The twisted, meager frame slumped dejectedly, the face was haggard with fatigue and worry, the eyes deep-sunken, distrait.
"What happened, Billy? You--how did you get ash.o.r.e?" began Martin.
"Swam," was the succinct reply. "Never mind me. Just now, you talk.
What are conditions aboard? How many of us are left? The note--the plan--to retake the ship?"
"Yes, I think so. The crew--I'll explain, Billy. But this place--"
The distant roar was audible again, and, despite himself, Martin fell to trembling. "Let us get out of here," he urged Little Billy. "Back to the beach--where we can see the ship."
"We can't show ourselves on the beach," said the Other. "Winters'
cave--did you discover it?"
Martin nodded. The dry cave overhead--that was the place. He did not relish recrossing the ledge by the chasm edge at that moment; he did not think he could do it without falling in. And Winters' cave, if he recalled aright the description, had an outlook over the bay.
He motioned Little Billy to hold the lantern, while he bent over to inspect Ichi. A dim idea was at work in Martin's mind; not yet clear cut, not yet a reasoned plan. It concerned Ichi. If only the little wretch were not dead, or badly injured, as he feared. The man had lain there so motionless; he seemed such an inanimate lump as Martin rolled him over on his back.
But the fear was groundless. There was blood on Ichi's face from a torn scalp, and a big lump on the side of his head. The hunchback felt the lump, and cried, "Knocked out!" Immediately he added, "He's coming around--or playing 'possum. His eyes! He isn't shot. I thought you shot him; I saw the flash. But he's just knocked out--and waking up.
See his eyes! Frisk him. Not even a knife."
Ichi's lids were fluttering. Presently they drew back slowly, and the man stared up at them. At first it was a vague, wavering, uncomprehending stare. But after a moment, intelligence--and fear--crept into the beady black eyes, and the gaze fastened upon the two grim, white faces above. Ichi tried to raise his head, his body.
But Martin's hand was at his throat, and his knee upon his chest.
"He's alive!" exclaimed Martin, triumphantly. "Don't you see, Billy--we can bargain----"
"Use him, or kill him," cried the cripple, savagely, and he cursed at the prostrate man's face. "Drag him to his feet, Martin. Let's be going. The way to Winters' cave--up here?"
With his clutch on Ichi's collar, Martin dragged him to his feet and propped him against the wall. Ichi was groggy, but he kept his feet; and he was plainly conscious, though he did not open his mouth. The handcuffs which had chafed Martin's wrists for so many hours were still dangling from his left arm. He slipped them off, and, with no gentle hand, forced his prisoner's wrists together behind him and ironed them tightly. t.i.t for tat, thought Martin; and he made certain that Ichi would not wriggle his wrists through the steel clasps.
"Look here!" called Little Billy. "I had a hunch that shot hit somebody. Look--up here!"
He held the lantern over his head, and its rays lighted the shelf beneath the hole in the ceiling. On it was sprawled the body of a man.
It was a gruesome sight; the form seemed oddly shrunken and twisted, one leg hung over the edge of the rock, the face was towards them, eyes and mouth wide open. Unmistakably dead.
"Hole in the forehead," said Little Billy.
The nausea had Martin's stomach again. But he fought it back. His mind searched for and immediately found the answer.
"When Ichi bit my arm, and I jerked it up and the gun went off. Yes, that's it. And that--I'd forgotten about that fellow, Ichi sent him aloft to explore. He must have been crawling back when I--when he was struck."
"Good riddance," said Little Billy.
"Watch this bird a moment," commanded Martin.
He stepped forward, and, conquering his repugnance, put his arms about the corpse and lifted it to the floor. Then, on second thought, he knelt and removed the leather belt and sheath knife from about the man's waist. He had remembered he was weaponless.
It was no easy task to boost the prisoner to the shelf, and thence through the crack in the ceiling. Ichi was none too willing to proceed, though he made no audible protest. But with Little Billy--who went first--pulling from above, and Martin prodding and thumping from below, the three finally negotiated the unhandy entrance.
They found themselves in a tunnel, much like the one below that connected with the Elephant Head. But this shaft, when they got a little ways into it, was dry, and the air was sweet. A cool, sweet wind touched their faces, so they knew they were approaching blessed daylight.
Little Billy went first, with the lantern. Martin brought up the rear, and, with his hand on Ichi's collar, directed the latter's somewhat faltering steps. Their way climbed sharply, then leveled; the tunnel was as tortuous as the one below. They turned a corner and discerned a bar of daylight cutting athwart the darkness of the pa.s.sage. Another turn, and they were on the threshold of a wide and lofty cavern, a great room that was dimly lighted by a large, natural window in the farther wall.
"Watch him!" Martin cried to Little Billy; and, deserting his prisoner, he rushed forward to the opening.