But at Sam’s first words Mr. Pauling, and even the famished Rawlins, forgot all about their hunger and the appetizing food before them, for the Bahaman’s story was to the effect that Jules and his fellow French West Indians were just as keen on getting the “reds” as were Mr. Pauling and his party. According to Jules’ tale, a number of their friends and members of their families had settled on Trade Wind Cay and had been living a peaceful happy life, raising goats, fishing and cultivating tiny garden plots, when a party of white men had arrived and without warning or reason had butchered the West Indians and burned their homes, exactly as Smernoff had described when questioned in New York.
It was not this story of cold-blooded massacre which was of such intense interest to the Americans, but the Fact that Jules calmly informed them that he not only knew where the “devil boat” was hidden, but that he could actually lead them to the cave where the murderers lived.
“Phew!” whistled Rawlins. “I’ll say you tumbled into the right camp, boys! So old Frenchy here’s into their hangout! If that isn’t the all-firedest piece of luck! Lead us to ’em, old sport, lead us to ’em!”
“By Jove! if it’s true everything is coming our way,” declared Mr. Pauling, “but let’s be absolutely sure first. Ask him how he knows his friends were killed, Sam. And why he has not complained to the authorities and demanded justice. Ask him why, if it is true and he knows where these men live, he has not tried to avenge his friends’ death. Ask him what they look like, tell him to describe some of them and the ‘devil boat’ as he calls it.”
Sam turned and began talking to Jules and the others in patois.
“Well, true or not I’m going to have grub,” declared Rawlins. “I don’t eat with my ears, though; I’m almost sorry I can’t, I’m that hungry.”
For several minutes the negroes chattered and gesticulated, their voices often rising excitedly and vehemently. Then, at last, Sam seemed to be satisfied and addressing Mr. Pauling explained that Jules said that two men had escaped from the Cay. They had been fishing and when returning, saw the massacre and realizing resistance was hopeless got away from the place in their boats unseen. He then went on to state that Jules had complained to the Dominican authorities, but had been laughed at; strange negro squatters—in the minds of the Dominicans—were of too little consequence to bother with and had no legal standing; and moreover, Trade Wind Cay did not belong to Santo Domingo. In fact, it was a port of No Man’s Land claimed by Haiti, Santo Domingo, the Dutch and a British corporation and its real ownership had never been settled. Jules and his followers had never avenged their friends merely because they feared to injure any white man knowing that summary arrest, a farcical trial and death would follow and so, as the next best thing, they had worked spells, had placed Obeah and had danced Voodoo in the vain hope of bringing disaster on their enemies. Indeed, Jules declared that their dance of that night had been for this purpose and that when the boys had first arrived the negroes had felt sure that their heathen gods had delivered their enemies into their hands, but that the “devil box” had spoken in English and they knew their enemies used another tongue.
Jules’ description of the submarine was too accurate to leave room for doubt that he had seen it and the boys, at least, were convinced that he had seen the “reds” when Sam repeated Jules’ description of the red-bearded giant, the dark man with the earrings, the thin fellow with the Kaiser-like mustache, and several others.
“I’ll say he’s got a line on ’em, all right!” declared Rawlins, as Sam finished his translation of Jules’ description and statements, “and by glory! I’d hate to be in their shoes if these buckos ever get their hands on ’em. Say, did you notice that one of the bunch he described would be Smernoff to a ‘T.’ Wonder if any of ’em recognized him?”
“By Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Pauling. “I hope not, I’d forgotten he was one of the murderers. If they see him and recognize him we’ll be looked upon as spies and enemies. Better run down and warn him, Rawlins. He’s in the boat, asleep probably. Tell him to keep his face hidden or to daub it with mud; or anything and tell the quartermaster to see that he does it.”