The perspiration was pouring from the detective’s face, and his breath was coming and going in great, choking pants, for Crawford was a heavy man and the bodily effort had been a tremendous one. The miner clung to the rail for a few moments, steadying himself there. Through the gloom Nick could see the bearded face and the blue eyes fixed on his own. At that instant, a quick, shuffling footfall came to the detective’s ears, and he turned quickly around in time to see the figure of Stone gliding like a black shadow along the pale, canvas-covered side of the suspended boat. “Oh, no, you don’t, you confounded rascal!” Nick broke out, as he started to follow the man. But before he could do so, Crawford reeled, stepped toward him, and clutched him by the arm. “It’s—it’s you, Carter?” the miner breathed. “Yes. Let me go, though. I don’t want that scoundrel to get away.” Crawford’s fingers tightened their hold on his sleeve. “Don’t follow him! Let him go—for my sake!” he pleaded. Nick paused and peered with surprise into the man’s face. “I suppose you know what you’re saying?” the detective asked, in a strange voice. “Perfectly.” “But that fellow tried to murder you.” “I know that only too well.” “And you mean to say you’re not going to lodge a complaint against him or do anything in the matter?” The bearded face shone in the dusk. “That man will never be accused by me,” Crawford said positively. “Don’t you recognize him?” The detective shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, I recognize him, all right,” he said. “It was Stone, your partner, and also—if I had not come on the scene just when I did—your murderer.” Crawford came closer to Carter and thrust his arm through that of the detective. “That may be,” he said, “but I can’t forget that he’s also the man who once saved my life, who has shared his last crust with me again and again.” Then, as an exclamation of impatience broke from Nick’s lips, the miner went on: “Oh, yes, I know that you think me a fool. You will think me even a greater when I tell you that this is not the first time. He has tried to do the same thing on this very voyage—to say nothing of an attempt before we left South America.” CHAPTER VI. THE LOVE OF COMRADES. “Good heavens!” Nick Carter broke out. “Do you actually mean to tell me that he has attacked you before?” “I do,” the deep voice replied. “He tried to shoot me from ambush a week or so before we left Brazil, and just prior to our arrival at Kingston he made another attempt. He was not nearly so successful that time, though. I managed to overpower him.” They were pacing along the dark deck now, and Nick heard the man by his side draw a deep breath.