“No use of following them, boys,” remarked Benton as they listened to the fugitives crashing through the bushes. “They’re making tracks for their ship as fast as they know how. No doubt we could follow them and pick them off like so many rabbits, but we don’t want any slaughter. What we’ve done has been in self defense and because we had to. And we don’t want any captives either. They’d only add to our troubles and make a complicated situation.”
“But don’t you think that Ramirez may rally his men and make another attack?” asked Dick anxiously.
“Here’s the answer to that,” replied Benton, who had taken out his flashlight and was sending its rays over the bodies lying on the ground. “Here’s Ramirez himself. He’s done his last killing, and has met the fate that he has handed out so ruthlessly to others.”
The boys crowded around him and gazed on the villainous features of the scoundrel who a few hours before had threatened them with unimaginable tortures.
“He met the fate he courted and the fate he well deserved,” remarked Benton. “That settles the question of any more fighting. He was the only one in the gang that had any of the qualities of leadership and without him the rest are only a lot of panic-stricken dogs. They think the island’s hoodooed, this end of it especially, and you couldn’t drag them over here again with a team of horses. No, I think our worries are over as far as those rascals are concerned. But on the mere chance that some sniper may want to take a last shot at us before scurrying off after his comrades, we’d better get back to the cave now and wait till daylight. Then we’ll bury these bodies and clear up some of this debris.”
Phil felt a nudge on his arm, and turning about saw Bimbo standing beside him.
“Please suh,” said the negro with a note of pride in his voice, “Ah’s wounded.”
“Is that so?” asked Phil in quick concern. “Where?”
Bimbo exhibited his knuckles, which were bleeding where they had been grazed by a bullet. Phil saw at a glance that it was nothing, but not for the world would he have taken away from Bimbo the satisfaction that the wound gave him.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” he said gravely, “but it’s what a fighter has to expect. Come into the cave and I’ll bathe and dress it for you.”