Peter Gross glanced out of the window toward the jungle-crowned hills. The lines of his mouth were very firm.
"He told me a great deal," he admitted.
"About Paddy?" There was an anxious ring in Carver's voice.
"About Paddy—and other things."
"The lad's come to no harm?"
"He is aboard Ah Sing's proa, the proa we saw standing out to sea when we reached the beach. He is safe—for the present at least. He will be useful to Ah Sing, the natives reverence him so highly."
"Thank God!" Carver ejaculated in a relieved voice. "We'll get him back. It may take time, but we'll get him."
Peter Gross made no reply. He was staring steadfastly at the hills again.
"Odd he didn't take you, too," Carver remarked.
"The juragan told me that he intended to come back with a portion of his crew for me later," Peter Gross said. "They ran short of provisions, so they had to go back to the proas, and they took Paddy with them. Some one warned them you were on the march with Jahi, so they fled. Tsang Che, the juragan, says his crew was slow in taking on fresh water; that is how we were able to surprise him."