“I expect so. I make out a ‘J. C.’”
“J. C.!” repeated Moses. He stared from Marion to Lincoln, and back to Lewis, who stood trembling as if he had taken a chill. “Why——do you suppose that’s meant for Jimmy Claiborne?”
The light of the cabin lantern which they had brought out showed their awed, startled faces. “I think it is,” began Marion, slowly.
“Hey——you,” he cried, looking up; “man the sweeps! We’re getting too far out.”
“But the man in the canoe was an Indian,” objected Lewis, “and he must have sent the message. He barely had time to write it with the blood that spurted over him from cutting the Indian’s throat. Ough! I just saw it spout up as I went down.” He gave a great shiver at the memory that would haunt him while he lived.
“The man in that canoe was Jimmy Claiborne,” said the captain. “I’m sorry, men. We can’t land, now. Not with this warning.”
“Not land!”
“Not to-night. Get your rifles, Kenton and MacAfee. Lincoln, you and Lewis at the sweeps. Lew needs to get warm. Don’t shoot unless we’re attacked in canoes. We may have passed the danger Jimmy speaks of, or we may be floating into it. I must go and look after poor Cutler. Moses, mind your oar!”
Kenton and MacAfee confronted the captain as he started to go to the cabin. “We’re goin’ back for Jimmy,” they said, threateningly. “He saved Lewis, here. He’s saved the ark. Do you think we’ll slink off into safety and leave him to the savages?”
The captain wheeled on them. “Did Jimmy ask for help?”