“Failing to overtake us, what will they do next?”
But for the darkness, the Captain would have been seen to shrug his shoulders. It was the deserter who spoke:
“They can do nothing but wait.”
“Martella, I am now ready to join you in capturing the tugboat.”
“Esta buena! Esta buena!” whispered the delighted fellow; “it makes no difference, if there is more risk, for we do not know how many they have left behind.”
“Hang the risk! Lead on!”
In his eagerness, Martella took no pains to hide the noise of tearing through the jungle, and the next moment they emerged into the trail again. The Major had already instructed his sister to stay at the rear, with the Captain directly in front of her. There was likely to be sharp fighting, and she must keep out of it.
“When we rush aboard, remain on the bank till I call to you.”
She promised to do as told, and the three men, their heads bent forward, went down the trail at the double quick, she readily keeping pace with them. The brief distance was quickly passed, and the three drew together on the edge of the river, just within the shadow.
“The Captain is in the pilot house,” whispered Martella, indicating the figure of a man who had seated himself; “but I don’t think there are any others beside the engineer and firemen.”