We were given a joyful welcome by our comrades aboard the wreck, you may be sure. Ned was there, a smile mantling his rugged face as the auto came alongside and he assisted us to make fast and mount to the slanting deck of the ship.

Uncle Naboth’s eyes were big and staring as our dainty Indian princess came aboard; but I could see that he was pleased with her beauty and modest demeanor.

No questions were asked us until we were all comfortably stowed on deck and the automobile had been hoisted over the side by the willing sailors and set in its old position. They were glad enough to see us safely returned without bothering us with questioning; but I knew of their eagerness to hear of our adventures and so took an early opportunity to remark: “Well, Uncle Naboth and Ned, we’ve got the diamonds.”

“Sure?”

“Sure enough.”

I brought the basket and allowed them to inspect the treasure, which they did with wonder and a sort of awe, for they had little to say.

“How much is the bunch worth?” asked my uncle, trying to be indifferent.

“Why, we are all quite ignorant of their value,” I replied; “but Moit and I both think we have secured a snug fortune for each one of us four who are interested in the division. We couldn’t have done anything at all without the automobile, though, so I am going to give Duncan a part of my share.”

“I won’t take it,” declared Moit. “We made a fair and square bargain, to share alike, and I mean to live up to it.”

“But you need the money more than we do,” I protested, “for you’ve got to build a factory to manufacture your machines and also to make a home for Ilalah. She is a prize we don’t share in, but we’d like to contribute to her happiness, so I shall suggest to Ned and Uncle Naboth that you take a half of all the diamonds and we will divide the other half.”

“Agreed!” cried my uncle and Ned, both together, and although Duncan objected in a rather pig-headed way I declared that we had fully made up our minds and he had nothing to say about the matter.

Then we told out story, rather briefly at first, for it would take some time to give our friends all the details of our adventures. Uncle was very proud of the way Bryonia and Nux had behaved, and told them so in his outspoken fashion. The honest fellows could have desired no higher reward.

After this Ned told me of his trip. On reaching the ocean he had rigged a mast and sail on the long boat and before a brisk breeze had soon reached Manzanillo Bay and arrived at Colon harbor within a half day.

Colon is a primitive town built upon a low coral island, but being the Atlantic terminal of the great canal it possessed an office of the Central and South American Telegraph Company, so that Ned was able to send a cable message by way of Galveston to Mr. Harlan.

He got an answer the next day, saying that the Carmenia, one of the Company’s ships, was due at Cristobal in a few days, and further instructions as to the disposition of the wrecked cargo would be cabled me on her arrival. Cristobal was a port adjoining Colon, and I remembered to have heard that the Carmenia was soon to come home from the Pacific with a light cargo; so I judged it would be Mr. Harlan’s intention to have her take our structural steel on board and carry it on to San Pedro.

All we could do now was to wait, and instead of waiting in unhealthy Colon Ned wisely decided to return to the wreck and report to me.

They had begun to worry over us and to fear the Indians had murdered us, so it was a great relief to them when we came back safe and successful from our perilous adventure.

Uncle Naboth admired Ilalah more and more as he came to know her, and he told Duncan with great seriousness that she was worth more than all the diamonds in the world, to which absurd proposition the inventor gravely agreed. But indeed we were all fond of the charming girl and vied with one another to do her honor. Even stolid Ned Britton rowed across to the marshes in the afternoon and returned with a gorgeous bouquet of wild flowers to place in the Indian maid’s cabin—formerly his own cabin, but gladly resigned for her use.

Ilalah accepted all the attentions showered upon her with simple, unaffected delight, and confided to us that she had altered entirely her old judgment of the whites and now liked them very much.

“They must be my people, after this,” she said, with a sad smile, “because I have left the Techlas forever.”

At dinner Bryonia outdid himself as a chef and provided for the menu every delicacy the ship afforded. Ilalah ate little, but enjoyed the strange foods and unusual cooking. After dinner we sat on the deck in the splendid moonlight and recited at length our adventures, until the hour grew late.

When I went to bed I carried the diamonds to my locker, putting them carefully away where no one could get at them until we left the wreck and the time came to make the division. The ship was very safe for the present. Until another severe gale occurred to bring the waves up the river there was no danger of her going to pieces, as she held firmly to her mud bank, weighted on her open planks with the great mass of steel in the hold. Her bottom was like a crate, but her upper works seemed as firm and substantial as ever.

Ilalah’s cabin was on the starboard side, but in spite of the ship’s listing her window was four or five feet above the surface of the river. She bade us a sweet good-night in her pretty broken English, and an hour later everyone on board was enjoying peaceful slumbers and I, for my part, was dreaming of the fortune we had so unexpectedly secured.

Suddenly a cry aroused me. I sat up and listened but could hear no further sound. Absolute silence reigned throughout the ship. Yet the cry still rang in my ears, and the recollection of it unnerved me. While I hesitated a knock came to my door, and I got up and lighted a candle.

Moit was standing outside in the saloon. His face was white but as undecided in expression as my own.

“Did you hear anything, Sam?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Was it a cry for help?”

“That, or a woman’s scream, Duncan.”

“Come with me,” he said, and I followed him to the door of Ilalah’s cabin.

Two or three loud knockings failed to arouse any response. I turned the handle, found the door unlocked, and threw it open.

The room was empty.

I turned my flickering candle in every direction, lighting up the smallest cranny, as if the girl could be hidden in a rat-hole. The window stood wide open, and the cool night breeze came through it.

I turned toward Duncan, who stood in the middle of the room staring at the floor. As my gaze followed his I saw several of the blue beads Ilalah had worn scattered over the carpet. “It is Nalig-Nad,” he muttered. “The San Blas have stolen my princess!”

“What’s up, boys?” asked Uncle Naboth. He was standing in the doorway clad in a suit of pajamas that were striped like a convict’s, only in more gorgeous colors.

“The Indians have stolen Ilalah and carried her away,” I answered.

I am afraid Uncle Naboth swore. He is a mild mannered old gentleman, but having taken a strong liking for the beautiful girl he perhaps could find no other way, on the impulse of the moment, to express his feelings.

“Well,” he remarked, after we had looked blankly into one another’s faces for a time, “we must get her back again, that’s all.”

“Of course, sir,” agreed Duncan, rousing himself. “We will go at once.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Three o’clock,” answered my uncle, promptly.

“Then let us wait until morning,” I advised. “The Indians already have a good start of us and there would be no chance to overtake them before they regain the king’s village. We must be cautious and lay our plans carefully if we hope to succeed.”

“Perhaps you are right,” returned Duncan, wearily. “But I swear to you, Sam, that I will find Ilalah and bring her back with me, or perish in the attempt.”

I smiled at his theatric manner, but Uncle Naboth said seriously:

“I don’t blame you a bit, sir. That girl is worth a heap o’ trouble, and you can count on me to help you to the last gasp.”

“Well, well,” said I, impatiently, “let us get dressed and go on deck to talk it over.” I well knew there would be no more sleep for us that night, and although I was not in love with the lost princess I was as eager to effect her rescue as Moit himself.

“But I must warn you, gentlemen,” I continued, “that you have to deal with the wiliest and fiercest savage in existence, and if we venture into his dominions again the chances of our ever coming out alive are mighty slim.”

“All right, Sam,” retorted Uncle Naboth, cheerfully; “we’ve got to take those chances, my lad, so what’s the use of grumbling?”

“If you’re afraid, Sam—” began Moit, stiffly.

“Oh, get out!” was my peevish reply. “I may be afraid, and small wonder if I am; but you know very well I’ll go with you. So get your togs on, both of you, and I’ll meet you on deck.”