“What rascal?” asked Don.
“The shark-charmer, to be sure. Who else should I mean? He's on the Rock, I tell you!”
“Him done stick his leg in trap, sa'b,” interpolated Puggles, with appropriate action.
Don started to his feet. Jack followed suit, somewhat unsteadily.
“Is he above there?” cried Captain Leigh.
“Yes, yes!” said Jack eagerly.
“Up with you, boys!” cried the captain to the peons.
Don had already acquainted his father with the shark-charmer's part in the tragic events of the past week, and the peons had overheard the story. They all knew the shark-charmer, and they followed their leader with enthusiasm. They carried carbines; these glinted in the sunshine, and clanked against the contracted walls of the rock stairway as they jostled each other in the ascent.
A rush of many feet above, and the natives appeared at the stair-head. Only the moment before had they discovered the temple to be deserted, and become alive to the fact that they had lingered too long on the Rock. They were now in hot pursuit of the fugitives. But the sudden apparition of the red-sashed peons, the ominous glint and clash of the carbines, promised hotter pursuit than they had bargained for. A wave of consternation swept through their ranks. Sauve qui peut! In headlong flight they scattered in all directions.
As before, the shark-charmer had led the gang. He almost ran into the arms of the peons.