The two Japs reached the spot where Ichi and Asoki stood waiting. They handed their loads over the rail to the waiting hands below. Then they followed, by way of a Jacob's ladder.
Charley Bo Yip approached, bound for the cabin entrance. He passed close behind Martin, almost brushing against Martin's handcuffed hands. He stepped on into the alleyway without slackening his stride, but Martin marked the silent passage with a suddenly thumping heart—for Yip had pressed a piece of paper into one of his manacled hands. Ichi turned to him and motioned—
"Come, we are of readiness, Mr. Blake!"
Martin twisted his hand around and thrust the paper into his hip pocket. Then he stepped forward to the rail.
A couple of moments later, Martin sat in the stern-sheets of a whaleboat. He was much shaken and somewhat bruised from his attempt to negotiate a Jacob's ladder with his hands behind him, but his swift descent had not dimmed his mind. His first thought, even as he clambered over the brig's rail, was to count the men in the shore party. His fall hardly interrupted him.
There were four men at the oars, he saw. And beside him stood Moto, manning the steering oar. On the opposite gunwale perched Ichi. Six of them!
"That will leave nine of them aboard," ran Martin's mind. "Ichi said only three were killed last night. They would be Rimoa and Oomak and MacLean. Then there are eight forecastle hands, and Chips, and the bosun, down below. Numbers are even, more than even! But odds! Oh, if only a couple of those rifles were in the bosun's hands! If only Ichi would take them ashore!"
Martin searched the boat with his eyes, but no firearms were visible. If the boatswain and the lads reached the deck, they would have those armed watchers to reckon with. Hopeless!
At a sharp order from the steersman, the four oarsmen gave way smartly, and the boat left the ship's side, headed beachward. It was not one of the Cohasset's boats, Martin noted. The dingey, in which Little Billy had sounded to anchorage yesterday, still rode to its painter under the counter. The rest of their own boats were still snug on the skids. The whale-boat was Carew's boat in which he had boarded them.
Little Billy! The sight of the dingey brought the hunchback into Martin's racing thoughts. Where was Little Billy? The paper Yip had slipped him, fairly burned in his pocket. But, of course, he dare not attempt to read it here in the midst of his enemies. For he had not the slightest doubt the paper was a note written by Little Billy, and conveyed by Yip's friendly hand.