The daily Alaskan., 1919-05-08
CHAPTER xI.
rhe Return of the soat.

The crew hurried over to the port rail. Beyond doubt most of those aboard realized that this had been an expedition of some importance, the cul- imitation of their long wait on the coast, part of some scheme of their chief, in the spells of which they e1- pected to share. Moreover this boat approaching through the darkness was bringing back their leader, and how ever else they. might feel toward him, the reckless daring, and audaciOus re- sourcefulness of Sanchez meant sue cess. ...t. =.
 I was made to comprehend all this by the low, muttered utterances of those crowding near me, spoken in nearly every language of the world. Much could not translate, yet enough reached my ears to convince me of the temper of the crew-their feyerish eagerness to be again at sea, under command of captain whom they both hated and feared--a cruel, cOld-blood- ed monster, yet genius In crime, and natural leader of such men as these. Black Sanchez! I listened to their comments, their expectations, with swiftly beating heart. l alone knew what that boat was bringing. What would be the result when the dead body of their leader came up over the rail?
 LeVere shoured an order, and a sud- den flare was lighted amidships, the circle of flame Illuminating part or the deck, and spreading out over the wild expanse of water. Scarcely had a minute elapsed before 1t came sweep ing Into the radius of llght-at first dim, spectral shadow, scarcely to be recognized; then, almost as suddenly, revealed in all It's detailS-a boat or size, flying toward us under lug sail, keeling well over, and topping the sea swens like bird on wing. LeVere called for men to stand by, the fellows rushing past me to their stations, but' in the fascination of the moment, l failed to move. l could do nothing but stare out across the intervening wa ter, with eyes fastened on that swiftly approaching boat. l must see, must know the message 1t brought; what story 1t held of the tragedy. Manuel held the tiller, with Estada seated be- side him, leaning forward, and ges- ticulating with one hand, as he direct cd the course. I had never seen these two. vet knew them beyond a doubt. Mendez and Anderson Cat least SUD- posed these to be the two) were poised at the sail halyards, ready to let the straiuing sheet down at 8 run, while Cochose crOuched low in the bow, his black hand uplifted, gripping coll Of rope. Their faces were all turned for ward, lighted by the flare from our deck, and felt a shudder of fear run over memo expression on any coun' tenance spoke of defeat; even the ugly features of the negro beamed with de- light.
 But was that all? Was that allf Surely not. Forward of the single mast was slowed the chest, while in the open space between the helmsman and the two sailors were stretched two motionleSs bodies. LeYere, gripping stay-rope, and leaning we'll out, hailed in Spanish.
 "Ahoy, the boat You can make it|
 "Ayp came back Estada's voice. "Stand by to fend us off. Call all hands, and break anchor as soon as we are aboard"
 "Yery well, sir. Where is Captain Sanchez?"
 Estada pointed downward in swift, expressive gesture.
 Here at my feet-badly hurt, but will recover. Send two men down to help when We make fast. Now. CQS