Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1919-04-09
CHAPTER XII.
The Return Of the Boat.

AAC Crew uurTI0u over TO the port
rail- Beyond doubt most of those
aboard realized that this had been an
expedition of some Importance, the Gull
mination of their long wait on the
| coast, part of some scheme of their
chief, in the SpOilS 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 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 feverish
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
a natural leader of such men as these.
Black Sanchez! I listened to their
comments, their expectations, with
swiftly beating heart. / 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 sud-
den flare was lighted amidships, the
circle of flame Illuminating a part of
the deck, and spreading out over the
wild expanse of water. Scarcely had
a minute elapsed before it came sweep
ing into the radius of light-at first a
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 a lug SAIL
keeling well over, and topping the sea
swells 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, /
failed to move. I could do nothing but
stare out across the intervening wa
ter, with eyes fastened on that swiftly
approaching boat. / must see, 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. had never seen these
two, yet / knew them beyond doubt.
Mendez and Anderson Cat least / sup
posed these to be the two) were poised
at the sail halyards, ready to let the
straining sheet down at run, while
Cochose crouched low in the bow, his
black hand uplifted, gripping coil OF
rope. Their faces were all turned for
ward, lighted by the flare from our
deck, and felt 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 all?
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. LeVere, gripping
stay-rope, and leaning well out, hailed
in Spanish.
"Ahoy, the boat You can make it?"
"Ay! came back Estada's voice.
"Stand by to fend us off. Call all
hands, and break anchor as soon as we
are aboard"
every 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, Co
chose-let go of your rope; watch out
abover'
stood, gripping hard 1T the rail,
and staring down at the scene below,
as the men in the boat made fast. I
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 deadl And that other body?
That of Dorothy Fairfax, without
doubt, yet certainly not lifeless. If
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 a
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