“Guess you saved us the trouble!” he cried to the amazed man who had expected nothing short of being summarily killed for taking a white man’s life. “Here, shake!”
Although the negro understood not a single word, yet Rawlins’ tones and gestures were unmistakable and with a surprised grin he seized the diver’s outstretched hand and pressed it firmly.
“I guess he’ll be a good boy to have along with us,” Rawlins commented, as he picked up Smernoff’s pistol and pocketed it.
“Rum lot, them Russians,” remarked the quartermaster as he spat contemptuously into the bushes and regarded Smernoff’s body impartially. “I never trusted of him, Sir, and I kept me weather eye on him. I’m thinkin’ he no more than got his reward, Sir.”
The boys, now that they were convinced that Mr. Pauling was unharmed, glanced at the dead Russian and turned away with a shudder.
“Just the same I’m rather sorry for him,” declared Frank. “Of course he was a beast and tried to kill you, Mr. Pauling, but somehow it seems terrible to see a man cut down that way!”
“Death’s a terrible thing in any form,” said Mr. Pauling as he led the boys away. “But don’t waste pity on him, Frank. He was a murderer many times over and would have ended on the gallows or in the electric chair if he had not met death here. He richly deserved his fate and you cannot blame the negro for killing him. I thank God that his dying effort to murder me was frustrated by his own violence.”
Sleep was out of the question after the exciting events and the final tragedy of the night, and now the first faint light of dawn was showing in the east.
“We’ll start as soon as it’s light enough,” announced Mr. Pauling. “Jules and a few of his men will go along. He’d like to send a crowd, but they’re of no use. They have no arms and I have no intention of taking any chances or undue risks. I wish to locate the submarine and the hiding place of these men. There is a remote possibility that we may take them unawares or find but a few there, but I trust mainly to locating them, then sending for Disbrow and his bluejackets and attacking the rascals’ lair with an overwhelming force.”
“Well, of course you know best,” assented Rawlins. “But personally, I’d like to take along this bunch of wild men and sail into those ‘reds.’ I’d back these bush niggers with machetes against any sneaking, bomb-throwing Bolsheviks that ever grew whiskers.”