Again they fought.... And Dillon met the fate of the man he had killed.
Panting from his exertions, Manly sat on the sand beside the dead man, and his bleared eyes looked out to sea. He leapt to his feet, weariness all gone, all thought of the tragedy forgotten; he waved his hands frenziedly, yelled hysterically:
“A sail! A sail!”
Away out there was a ship.
Tearing his shirt from his back, Manly rushed to the water’s edge and waved it long and feverishly, waved it till there came from the ship the boom of a gun, that told him he had been seen. And then reaction set in; he dropped senseless to the earth.
They found him thus; found Dillon, too, lying dead, and knew that some tragedy had been enacted on the silent, lonely strand. When Manly came round he blurted out his story, telling all.
“But why should he have killed Harper?” said the officer who had come ashore with the boat party.
“It fails me,” said Manly.
The next moment the pair were startled as a seaman rushed towards them with a cry upon his lips. He placed something in the officer’s hand. They were two small golden coins.
They were coins such as Manly knew none of his comrades had possessed, and there was a gleam in his eyes as he looked at the officer, neither speaking a word.