"What's the matter?" asked Montenay from across the fire.
"Why—why—yes, sir, it's gone!" Mr. Wallace arose, searching his pockets. Then his face hardened. "John, call up those boys who were with me this morning! My compass has disappeared."
CHAPTER VIII
CAPTAIN MAC SUPECTED
Montenay and the boys gave an exclamation of surprise and Captain Mac leaped to his feet with excited questions. Mr. Wallace, however, replied nothing. Burt had never seen his uncle really angry before and now he realized why this man was respected all over the world. The strong face was more hawk-like than ever. Between the down-drawn brows were too deep furrows, the thin mouth was set grimly, and the piercing eyes were aflame with anger. Even Montenay quieted down suddenly when he saw Mr. Wallace's face.
John very respectfully brought up a group of a dozen blacks who stood in fear and trembling as the loss of the compass was made known to them. Falling on their faces one and all denied any share in the theft.
"John, call the headman." When the latter appeared, fully as frightened as his men, Mr. Wallace turned to him. "You see these men?" The explorer spoke so rapidly that Burt could not gather more than a few scattered words of French, but what he heard made him spring up with a cry of protest.
"Sit down!" His uncle whirled on him savagely and Montenay nodded approval. The headman turned an ashy gray and bobbed his head against Mr. Wallace's boots while a howl of fear went up from the black boys, who returned to their companions, accompanied by John with a rifle.
"What'd he say?" whispered Critch anxiously. Mr. Wallace heard the words.
"I gave 'em ten minutes to produce that compass," he said quietly. "If they didn't do it by then I told 'em I'd bury those boys up to their necks in the swamp down yonder and leave 'em."
"What!" Critch was on his feet instantly. "Why—why—you—"