For a time they heard that whispering of numbers. Then it faded, as abruptly as it had come.
As they drifted, they quietly discussed the strange whispering, but came to no logical conclusions. Neither did they sight any white schooner, resting on the bottom.
* * * * * * * *
For a long time, there on the side of the hill beneath the tropical sun, Kennedy’s fighting band watched and waited.
“The signal will come,” Johnny thought with a thrill. “The signal to move! And then—
“There! There it is now!” he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.
There had come the distant scream of a wild parrot. One more scream.
“Now!” said Kennedy. “Let’s go!”
“We go,” old Samatan said, simply.
Johnny would have taken the lead, but the old man pushed him back. Cautiously they moved straight ahead.