"No!" snarled Willis Marsh. "You can all go to hell and take the child with you—"
Without a single warning cry, the breed lunged swiftly; the others saw something gleam in his hand. Emerson jumped for him, and the three men went to the deck in a writhing tangle, sending the furniture spinning before them. Mildred screamed, the sailors rushed forward, pushing her aside and blotting out her view. The sudden violence of the assault had frightened her nearly out of her senses. She fled to her father, striving to hide her face against his breast, but something drew her eyes back to the spot where the men were clinched. She heard Boyd Emerson cry to the sailors:
"Get out of the way! I've got him!" Then saw him locked in the Indian's arms. They had gained their feet now, and spun backward, bringing up against the yacht's cabin with a crash of shivering glass. A knife, wrenched from the breed's grasp, went whirling over the side into the sea. Cherry Malotte ran forward, and at her voice the savage ceased his struggles.
Wayne Wayland loosed his daughter's hold and thrust his way in among the sailors, kneeling beside the man he had chosen for his son-in-law. Emerson joined him, then rose quickly, crying:
"Is there a doctor among your party?"
"Doctor Berry! Send for Berry! He's gone ashore!" exclaimed Mr. Wayland.
"Quick! Somebody fetch Doctor Berry!" Boyd directed.
As the sailors drew apart, Mildred Wayland saw a sight that made her grow deathly faint and close her eyes. Turning, she fled blindly into the cabin. A few moments later Emerson found her stretched unconscious at the head of the main stairs, with a hysterical French maid sobbing over her.