“You infernal scoundrel!” he said, “it is hard for me to resist sending a bullet through you. But I hope to see you hanged for murder.”
“You'll answer to me for this——” began Chard, when Oliver again interrupted.
“This is no time for quarrelling. Once more, Captain Hendry—what are your orders?”
Hendry consulted with Chard in low tones, then desired first of all that the wounded native should be taken into Oliver's boat.
The mate obeyed under protest. “I already have a badly injured man in my boat, sir; and that native cannot possibly live many hours longer.”
Hendry made no answer, but gave the officer one of his shifty, sullen glances as the dying man was lifted out and put into Oliver's boat. Then he asked Oliver if the ship's papers, chronometer, charts, and his (Hendry's) nautical instruments had been saved.
“Here they are,” and all that he had asked for was passed over to him by Harvey.
“Did you save any firearms?” was Hendry's next question.
“Yes,” replied Harvey; “two Winchesters, a Snider carbine, and all the cartridges we could find in your cabin.”
“Give them to me, then,” said Hendry.