"Where are the others?" asked Craig, quickly. I turned to Everson. I had not yet had time to find out.
"Gone back to the trawler," he replied.
"Signal them to come aboard here directly," ordered Craig.
It seemed an interminable time as the message was broken out in flags to the trawler, which was not equipped with the wireless. Even the hasty explanation which Kennedy had to give to Asta Everson, as she came out of her cabin, wondering where Orrin had gone, served only to increase the suspense. It was as though we were living over a powder-magazine that threatened to explode at any moment. What did the treachery of one member of the expedition mean? Above all, who was it?
We had been so intent watching from the deck the all too slow approach of the little power-boat from the trawler that we had paid no attention to what was on our other quarter.
"A tug approaching, sir," reported the man on watch to Everson. "Seems to be heading for us, sir."
We turned to look. Who was she, friend or foe? We knew not what to expect. Everson, pale but with a firm grip on his nerves, did not move from the deck as the power-boat came alongside, and Dominick, Gage, and Kinsale swung themselves up the ladder to us.
"It's the tug of that pilot, Guiteras, sir," interposed the man who had spoken before. Not a word was spoken, though I fancied that a quiet smile flitted over Kennedy's face as we waited.
The tug ranged up alongside us. To my utter astonishment, I saw
Dolores, her black eyes eagerly scanning our faces. Was she looking for
Gage, I wondered? It was only a moment when the party that had put out
from the tug also came tumbling aboard.
"I got your message, Kennedy, and brought Guiteras. He wouldn't join the expedition, but he thought more of his daughter than of anything else."