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I have been held up as an opium smuggler; there is no gold in Houten's river never has been yet Leyden got dust through Gordon; and when Little and I and all Houten's men are threatened with annihilation by some of Leyden's men masquerading as Dutch sailors, you coolly tell me our rescue is unfortunate. Houten sent you here, didn't he? Then what's the answer?"
Rolfe," he said, "did you hold any communication with the shore before Mr. Little and I came on board?" "Ye-ow-ow!" yawned the mate, rubbing his eyes vigorously. "Beg pardon, sir. Communication with the shore? Why, yes just before we dropped anchor in Surabaya a boat came off with fresh provisions that Mr. Houten had ordered by telegraph. That's all, sir."
It was a er a lady." The voice broke into a grating laugh. "Who? What? Was it Mrs. " burst out Little incautiously. "Mr. Little!" Gordon snarled, his teeth showing viciously, "you forget yourself, I think. Remember you're in a gentleman's house, even though that house is only a hut and the gentleman's infernally drunk. That part of my business concerns neither you nor Houten."
"I see you smell the rat, Captain." Houten was shaking like a vast jelly with silent amusement. "I may as well tell you now that Mrs. Goring did come in your ship. It was vital that she get here to the station before Leyden, and unknown to him. I took care of her on the passage, and saw that she got ashore safely while we were docking. Yes, she is rather noted for doing unusual things, I think."
Again that thin voice from the tree, and the long, skinny arm handed down a second stick, more bulky than the other. "Gib to odder big fella. You no see. He for Missy Houten." "Everything laid out like a stage set," chuckled Little. "We are surely horning in on the deep, deep stuff, skipper. I suppose Houten will drop in on us next, appearing out of a pink cloud, or something. Golly!
Vandersee waited for a moment until the pain had been banished by a brave smile and she nodded to him resolutely, then he resumed in reply to Barry: "That is the real story, Captain. Juliana and I have not been blessed with parents since childhood. Mr. Houten is the only parent my sister has known. While she lived in his house, she met Gordon, and they soon became engaged to each other.
Houten desired Barry to understand that his absolute command of the Barang was in no way interfered with: simply that Vandersee was engaged on a definite and separate mission for the house, but had agreed to act on the passage as second mate and to pilot the ship up the river. "You know the contents?" Barry queried, peering up at the big man beside him. "Perfectly, sir." "Well? Anything you want?"
He made room for Barry on his own blanket, and his deep rumbling voice droned in the skipper's ear, gradually soothing that harassed shipmaster until he subsided to the influence of the beneficent Goliath. "Soon I shall tell you, Captain," said Houten. "Yoost now I say all iss vell, ja.
Shrieks and howls resounded on the shores, and a shower of arrows flew over the brightly illumined decks. "Ach! I am a fool!" grunted Houten. An arrow stuck in his fat arm, pinching up an inch of his plenteous flesh.
His own keen eyes told him the Barang was doomed; and any chance remaining for the crew hinged on that big launch alongside. He peered over the rail. The launch was smoking. Her line was almost burned through. "Gordon and Little, follow me quickly," he cried, swiftly making his decision. "Rolfe, Blunt, haul in on that line easy now, or you'll break it and Mr. Houten, here's my cabin key.
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