For two hours the Cormorant drove upstream without missing a stroke of her engines. Then the speed was diminished. Through the crack in the door Payne caught glimpses which showed that the stream had narrowed suddenly and began to wind. In another hour the captain shouted back an order. The engineer's head popped up from the engine pit near the stern, his expression indicating that the order had taken him by surprise.
"What'd you say, cap? Stop at Mangrove Point?"
"Yep. Boss' orders."
The engineer disappeared in the pit and the boat began to slow down as its course was altered to bring it in shore. Presently leaves brushed against its side and the craft came to a dead stop.
The mangrove branches on the bank were pushed aside, revealing a creek, and a long Seminole dugout, bearing two rough-looking men, slipped like a snake out of the jungle and up to the Cormorant's bow. The two men vaulted easily over the low rail onto the deck.
"Where is he?" asked the hideously scarred leader. "The boss said we should take him to Palm Island and leave him tied."
"My way would be to knock 'im in the head an' sink him in an alligator hole," grumbled the captain. "He's hard as nails; he'll be hard to get tied."
"You're too lazy to live. Call 'im out; we want to be going."
The speaker and his companion took up a position on the port rail; the captain and the mulatto lounged to starboard.
"Oh, Davis," called the captain, drawing a revolver. "Give us a hand here, will you?"