"If you had waited for me," the calm voice went on, "I might have helped you to escape, but now——"
He raised his hat and passed his hand over his hair, as though the sun had given him a headache.
At the same moment, as though this gesture had been a signal, from the low bushes a hundred yards away burst a squad of a dozen men, rifles at the "ready," in the uniform of American marines.
Manuel and Leborge cast wild glances around, seeking some place to flee, but there was none. They were cut off.
"Quick, Cecil!" they cried, together. And Leborge added, "Your boat! She is fast!"
"Not as fast as a rifle bullet," was the quiet answer.
At the double the Marines came over the scrubby ground, and, running beside the officer in command was a figure that Stuart recognized—his father!
The officer of the Marines came up.
"Seize them!" he said briefly.
The boys in blue disarmed and bound the four, one of the Marines freeing Stuart's arms the while. The second he was free, Stuart sprang forward and grasped his father's hand with a squeeze that made the older man wince.