The Mena weekly star., 1919-05-29
(Continued From Last Week.
CHAPTER xI.
The Return of the Boat.

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 ex. 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.
 was made to comprehend all tMs by the low. mutered utterancc- of those crowding near me, spoken n nearly every language of the world Much I could not translate, yet enough reached my ears to convince me of the temper of the crew--thelr feverish eagerness to be again at sea, under command of a captain whom they both hated and feared-a cruel, cold-blood. ed monster, yet genius in crime. and a 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 shouted an order. and a sud. den flare was lighted amidships, the circle of flame Illuminating q part of 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 of size, flying toward us under lug sail, keeling well over, and topping the sea swels like a 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, failed to move. I could do nothing but stare out across the intervening wa ter, with eyes fastened on that swiftly approaching boat. l must see. l must know the message it brought; what story it 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 ed the course. I had never seen these two, yet l knew them beyond doubt Mendez and Anderson Cat least l sup posed these to be the two) were poised at the sail haIyards, ready to let the straining sheet down at run, while Cochose crouched low in the bow, his black hand uplifted, gripping a coll of rope. Their faces were all turned for ward, lighted by the flare from our deck, and I 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 alli Surely not. Forward of the single mast was slowed the chest, while in rhe open space between the helmsman and the two sailors were stretched two motionless bodies. LeVere, gripping n stay-rope, and leaning we'll out hailed in Spanish.
 "Ahoy, the boat You can make itT
 "Ayl" came back Estada's voice. Stand by to fend us oft. Call all hands, and break anchor as soon as we are aboard"
 "very we'll, sir Where Is Captain SanchezT
 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, Co chose--let go of your rope; watch out above l''
 I stood, gripping hard at the rail, and staring down at the scene below, as the men in the boat made fast. l felt paralyzed, and helpless, unable to move. I had no business to remain there; every prospect of security de pended on my joining the crew. Yet only one thought gripped me-Sanchez was not dead And that other bodyY That of Dorothy Fairfax, without doubt yet certainly not lifeless. # their prisoner was the girl-and who else could it be?--she remained alive, helplessly bound to prevent either struggle, or outcry, and destined to fate far worse than death.
 My own life hung in the balance nay, rather, my doom was already sealed. There seemingly was but one chance for escape left-that was to drop silently overheard. God, no that would be the craven act of cowaru Better far to stay and kill, or even bt killed, than to be forever cursed by my own conscience.
 The fellows sent down from the main chains to the boat brought the injured captain up first. This required the services of three men, his body hanging limp between them, his up turned face showing ghastly in the flaming of the torch thrust out over the rail. To every appearance II was apparently a corpse they handled ex- cept for their tenderness, and single groan to which the white lips gave ut terance, when one of the bearers slipped, wrenchlng the wounded body with a sharp pang of pain. Once sate- ly on deck. the three bore him across to the after cabin and disappeared down the steps.
 Estada had already swung himself ,ty, t,so +ba ohot,1 xvhila adprSOu