It was Carlos and Rufe, together, who routed us all out long before day; and soon we were set on shore—Captain Marat, Norris, Julian, Ray, Robert and myself. We moved to the eastern edge of the city, and there awaited Carlos, who had hurried off to consult with his friend. We hadn't long to wait. He came with the intelligence that Duran had gone from the city at dusk the evening before. He had doubtless gone to the old ruin, since he had been attended by a man who was wont to wait on him, carrying his burdens, when going inland. When going direct to his ship, his attendants were always two or more sailors.

"Well, then it's for another visit to that old palace, where we had so much fun, eh Wayne?" said Norris.

Carlos led us over an old, seldom used trail; one that ran back of the old ruin.

It was a long, tedious march. And yet the morning was still fresh when we found ourselves at the bottom of the rear wall of the palace, looking up to where that escape door was hidden among the vines. I went up first. With my stick through the hole, I had up the latch, and pushed the door open. Next came Robert.

"Say," spoke up Grant Norris, "is that ladder of yours going to hold two hundred ten pounds?"

"It'll hold three times that," I assured him. And so he came up with ease, in spite of his weight.

Ray, Julian, Carlos, and Marat, soon were standing with us in the dark passage. Flashing my light, I led the way up the stone steps, and along the passage.

We came at last to that little door opening into Duran's room—that door through which I had made my rash entry, and hasty retreat.

There was no light shining through the chinks of the shrine this time. But I put my ear close, and in a little I distinguished the sound of heavy breathing within. Someone slept there. I communicated that piece of intelligence to the others in a low whisper. And we waited for the sleeper to waken.

Near half an hour must have passed and Norris had moved back down the passage, to calm his impatience. It was then we heard a loud knocking on a door of that room. The sleeper was aroused, and then light shone through the crevices.

Captain Marat and Carlos gave ear to the talk of those in the room. Duran, in sleeping garb, and a lame black attendant, were the occupants, as a peek through those chinks showed.

By Marat's report the following was the talk of the two:

"Well," said Duran, "any news of those dogs of Americans having gone?"

"Gani, just come," said the black. "He say French man and woman, and baby, and Brill woman, go way in steamer; schooner stay."

"So! The schooner stay!" thundered Duran. And he cursed and fumed a spell. "The schooner stay! Why do they stay?—It is that Carlos Brill. He has told them something. It is the gold now they want. Why did I not kill him?"

"The men have try," spoke the black. "They cannot—"

"They have try!" thundered Duran. "They try a little, and because he escape one, two bad shots, the fools they say the Zombi protect him. Well, no Zombi protect him when I see him!—They shall not find the gold.—Go, make ready my breakfast."

The black left the room. Duran turned to his toilet, manifesting his ill humor the while with grumbling to himself. The man presently brought in his food, and again retired. The meal finished, Duran sat in deep contemplation for some minutes, staring before him, and intermittently pulling on the lobe of his ear in his characteristic manner.

Finally he stepped to the door, and called. The black man again appeared.

"Tell Gani I go to the Orion," he said. The door closed and again Duran fell into soliloquy.

"Yes, I make the gold safe," he said. "That Carlos Brill—I should kill him long ago."

We could hear him in the room, but his activities were, for the most part, out of our range of vision.

Then presently he brought a box to the table. He laid out a money-belt. Then from the box he took bundles of bills, of money; and then came a half dozen fat pouches. That this was gold we had no doubt. The paper money and bags of gold Duran soon had transferred to the money-belt. And this he hung about his waist, with straps over the shoulders. A light jacket concealed the whole. He put away the box again.

His preparations were soon completed, and he went out of the room, having put out the lights.

It was then Marat gave us the account of that which he had heard.

"Well," I said, "if he's going to his schooner, we'll have to get a move on us."

I professed that I wanted to see the place Duran got that box from. And Norris confessed a like curiosity. "And I want to see how this door works," he said. So we two lingered, while the others hurried down the passage, meaning to have an eye on Duran when he should start off toward his ship.

Norris and I crawled through the little door. We first put lights to the candles, and looked to the security of the door. And then came search for a secret recess. After some minutes survey, we found a marble slab of the floor, next the wall, showing dust about the edges. Hung on the wall was a hook of metal. With this we succeeded to pull up an end of the slab.

To take out the stone and thrust our hands into the recess, where it extended under the wall, was the effort of two moments. We pulled forth the box.

It now held only two objects: a small account book, and a gold ring having the form of a serpent. The ring I pocketed. The book held some figures—amounts with many ciphers, and a number of addresses. One in Paris, others in Porto Rico, Jamaica, Cuba—the Cambons' among them. I tore out a leaf and made copies of them.

"That's right, Wayne," said Grant Norris. "They might be of value."

Soon we were out in the passage.

Down in the bed of the stream we found Robert awaiting us.

"He's gone," said Robert. "We were in time to see him and one black man go off through the woods."

Robert led the way; and soon we were on a trail going toward the sea.

We hurried to catch up with the others, and in a little, came upon Julian and Ray, lingering to make sure we'd found the way.

"I suppose you two are now sporting a money-belt apiece," said Ray.

I showed him the serpent ring.

"Ugh!" he grunted. "That voodoo's coat of arms, I guess."

We'd covered about two miles when we got sight of Captain Marat and Carlos. Carlos kept well ahead; and he was never long without a glimpse of Duran and his black, whose progress was slow, because of a burden.

That Duran was on his way to the gold mine, there was little doubt. Carlos assured us that it was always this way he went when he meant to conceal his movements. And on these occasions he would sail away in his schooner in the night. And it was this had made it impossible for Carlos to follow him to the place. That his father had never travelled to the mine by a water route Carlos was quite sure, though he had been much too young to have much judgment in the matter, or over much curiosity.

Duran's sailors had proven uncorruptible. Voodoo superstition had had much to do with it, doubtless, and they were liberally paid by their master. Carlos knew of only one black who had deserted Duran's service; and he had afterward been found murdered, in the city.

The character of the growth changed as we approached the sea. The greater trees were less plentiful; there were more open spaces; bamboo, tall grasses, came in our way; cocoa palms, royal palms, cabbage palms, looked down upon us as we passed. And then came vistas, giving view of the blue sea. Here the course turned east.

In the comparative sparsity of the growth, there was less need for a path, so now Carlos soon had lost the trail of Duran and his black. He recommended that we remain where we then were, while he was gone forward, to seek for signs of the two.

"Thanks, Carlos," said Ray, throwing himself on the ground, "I never was so hot, and done up."

All were glad of a rest, except perhaps Grant Norris, who was always for going forward. Now, though, the heat must have taken, temporarily, some of the go out of him, for he lay immovable for so much as ten minutes. The mid-day sun was almost directly overhead, and there was scarcely a breath of air stirring.

When an hour had passed, Norris was on nettles again. He had smoked three pipefuls, to calm his nerves. Again and again he made short excursions to the east to anticipate the return of Carlos.

Ray had been observing him. "Say, Norris," he said, "there won't be slow music at your funeral."

Then, finally, Carlos turned up. He beckoned us to follow him. We tramped two more miles, much of it through a heavy bushy growth. And then at last he halted us in a screen of bush, whence we looked out on the waters of a small cove, almost surrounded by palms, whose tall trunks leaned over the white sand beach. Resting in that cove was a schooner—the Orion.

"Duran, he go on board," said Carlos.

We could see the figures of black sailors on the deck; and with binoculars distinguished their white master, Duran.

"Well, and now then?" said Norris.

"Yes, what next, Wayne?" said Ray, "Norris and I are ready to bust."

There was only one thing to do. We must have the Pearl ready to follow when the Orion should sail.

"And when do you think she'll sail?" asked Julian.

"Sometime after dark, more than likely," said Robert.

It was Captain Marat, Robert and Julian, that went for the Pearl. They were to bring her to within a few miles of this cove, and pick up the rest of us in a small boat. They had ten miles ahead of them, most of it along the beach, and the going all good, where the sand was hard with moisture.

The hot tropic sun beat down on us in the brush, where we crouched, sweltering, till Carlos found us a less ovenlike lookout, under the palms of a tongue of land to the west of the cove. Our move got us some closer, too, to the object of our interest. And it was but a short run to the opposite side of the point, where we could have an eye on the coming of the Pearl.

I took occasion to show Carlos that gold ring I had found in Duran's hiding-place. He showed surprise and some emotion at sight of it.

"That my father's ring," he declared. "He have that ring on his finger that day he went away with Duran—an' never come back. My father he tell us he in the city have that ring made of gold he take from hees mine. He was no voodoo, my father, but I do not know why he have thee ring made like the serpent. He was mostly negro—my mother was Carib."

Carlos refused the ring. He asked that I keep it for him, till he should ask for it. It was when we were all at sea one day, he asked for the ring. I handed it toward him, and he held up a belaying pin, asking me to thrust it on the point. And then with much tapping with a hammer, he blotted out the serpent; and on the broad part, where the head had been, he contrived a cross, using hammer and chisel. This done, he was content to take the ring his father had worn.

"Now thee ring be good luck," he said. And he placed it on his finger.

There was apparently little activity on board the Orion, though once or twice we heard the laugh of a sailor wafted in on the light breeze.

The hot, tedious hours dragged along, one after the other, with tropic lassitude; till finally the shadows of the palms had spread over the waters of the cove. And at last, too, Grant Norris came to tell us that the Pearl had come to anchor, about three miles away.

It was then activity began on board Duran's schooner: The binoculars showed us sailors throwing off the gaskets. And then—and this to us was a surprise—up went her sails.

"Surely," said Ray, "they can't be going to make a start yet?"

"We'd better hump," began Norris, "or they'll be getting away before we get aboard the Pearl."

"Wait," I said, "I don't believe they'll sail before dark."

"Always," offered Carlos, "when they sail from the city it is dark."

"I'm thinking," said Ray, "that what that Duran finds to do in daylight wouldn't make a long sermon."

One thing led to another, and soon we were in the midst of that newly popular discussion of the probable location of the gold mine. "Well," concluded Grant Norris, "it can't be very far, if Carlos's father made the trip overland, there and back, in five or six days."

Carlos re-affirmed his statement. "The first time he is away some weeks, when he come back very happy, and say he have find gold mine, and he show us gold. But he have been away five and six day and come back."

It was then the schooner again took our notice, for the sails began to come down again, and soon they were all snug between gaffs and booms.

"Just shaking the wrinkles out of them," suggested Ray.

The sun was now nearing the horizon. Norris and Ray hurried up the beach, to get themselves aboard the Pearl, and have Captain Marat move down, after dark, close to the point on its west. Thus this tongue of land with its tall palms, would still hold a screen between the two schooners.

Night, with the precipitancy peculiar to the tropics, rose up and lay its black cloak over everything. While the stars were out bright, the moon was not due till near daylight. An hour Carlos and I waited, watching that dark spot in the cove that represented the Orion. Then Norris and Robert joined us. Our schooner now lay about a mile from shore, they told us. The land breeze soon sprung up, and still there was no movement in the cove.

"Looks like they've settled down there for the night," suggested Robert.

"Don't say that," said Norris.

Then came a faint flash of light over there, and in another minute we heard the squeak of a block.

"The sails are going up!" I said. "Now back to the Pearl."

We hurried on among the pillar-like trunks of palms; in a little we were in the small boat, and at last the Pearl took us in.

"They're making sail," I told Captain Marat.

He took me into the cabin, and showed me the chart. There was there shown a long shoal, that would necessitate the Orion passing us and going some miles west, to round the end of the shoal, and so out to sea, for a run down the coast to the east. "Unless," said Captain Marat, "they have some safe passage through the shoal, say through here." And he pointed to a place opposite the point, where the depth figures indicated such a possible passage.

We got on a jib, and crawled out a bit nearer to the place indicated; and again we let down the anchor.

We had not long to wait this time. A dark object moved into our view. With a distant squeak of a block or two, it turned seaward. We were not many minutes getting under way. We lost sight of the Orion before we got way on, and when we were well beyond the shoal, we took our course east at a guess.

We had sailed there an hour, covering some miles, before that dark mass again showed before us. We then almost ran the other schooner down, for she lay hove to, her sails flapping. With quick work Captain Marat likewise brought the Pearl about.

During the maneuver I had had opportunity to note that a small boat of the Orion had separated itself from that vessel, and was a little way shoreward. But at our coming the boat turned about, and made back to the Orion again.

That vessel's sails directly filled once more, its bowsprit pointing down the coast. The Pearl was not long in falling into its wake. And then came a flash and report from the Orion. Norris rushed into the cabin, brought out his rifle and sent a bullet after that vessel.

"Tit for tat!" he said. "I'll bet that that cooled his enthusiasm."

The enemy did not see fit to continue the exchange.

"Humph—'tit for tat'" mused Ray. "Norris and Duran talk to one another in the old code."

"Oh, and maybe you can tell what we were saying," bantered Norris.

"Sure," said Ray. "That fellow's 'tat' said—'Don't you dare follow me!' and your 'tit' said—'You're another.'"

"You're a mighty wise gazabo," said Norris.

"Of course," said Ray. "And I'm a mind reader, too."

"You, a mind reader!" said Norris. "And do you mean to say you can tell what I'm thinking?"

"Sure," said Ray. "You're thinking—a—you're thinking that I don't know what you're thinking."

And he had to dodge Norris's moccasin.

We were now keeping pretty much in that other schooner's wake. It gave us much satisfaction to find that the Pearl had superiority in speed, at least in a moderate breeze.

The Orion apparently had on all her sail; we were obliged to shorten sail a bit, to avoid overhauling the other. The waning moon came out of the horizon an hour before daybreak.

It was then we began to draw off a little, for we now had but one purpose—to keep an unwavering eye on the Orion. That vessel, it became plain, had come to have its single aim—to shake the Pearl from her trail. And now day after day, and night after night, the contest was on. The Orion at first put on every effort to outsail us; that was vain. Then she sought to hang us on dangerous shoals; but Captain Marat's charts told him where they lay. The Orion tried at night, by sudden changes in her course, to lose us in the dark. But sundown always found us clinging to her apron strings, and a sharp eye on every shift of her.

A week passed thus, and then the island of—well, suffice it to say it was an important island of the West Indies—This island hove in sight. The Orion made straight in, the Pearl at her heels. The frowning guns of a fort guarded the harbor and city, which lay on the west coast.

At ten of the morning the two schooners came to anchor. The Pearl chose a berth less than a hundred fathoms from the other. And it was little thought that these ships would go out of that harbor with rather a different distribution of passengers than that with which they went in.