“Prisoners? I never thought of that!” exclaimed Giles Borden. “Yes, it would be just like Geswick and those other scoundrels to treat them in that fashion.”
“Well, it won’t do us any good to remain here,” went on our hero. “We may as well scatter and see if we can’t locate the captain and the others.”
This was considered good advice and tired as the crowd was, all went on the hunt, some up the shore and some down, and the others inland.
Dave and Roger walked down the shore, why neither could exactly tell. They passed the palms and brushwood, and leaving the sand, commenced to climb over some rocks. Then Dave began to shout.
At first no reply came to his calls, but presently he heard a groan, coming from behind the rocks.
“Let us see what it means!” he exclaimed to the senator’s son, and they hurried in the direction of the sound with all speed.
Back of the rocks was a grove of plantains, and in the center was the remains of a thatched hut, evidently built by natives years before. On the ground in front of this hut lay Captain Sanders and the sailor, Smiley. Each had his head bound up and each was nursing a bruised ankle.
“Captain Sanders!” cried Dave, in astonishment.
“Dave Porter!” returned the commander of the Golden Eagle, joyfully. “My, but I am glad you have come!”
“You are hurt?”