“No saying, mister. May as well make ready,” he answered. “We’ll lay out our boat’s kedge to seaward, so as we can warp off in a hurry.” They rowed the boat out into the bay, dropped their kedge, and backed her stern-first to the beach. They struck the awning, hoisted sail, and laid their oars in the thole-pins. They waited for another half-hour, watching the mysterious forest. “I guess we’ll go off to the sloop, cap,” said a seaman. “He’s give us the flying foretopsail.” “Them paharos is back among them berries,” said Ed. “I guess it was boys come for plantains.” “I dunno,” said Tucket. “It’s odd our man ain’t come.” “I must go up to the town to find out about him,” Margaret said. “I can’t wait like this.” “I wouldn’t, sir,” said Tucket. “What do you say, boys?” “No,” said the men. “No. It wouldn’t do.” “But I got him to go. I can’t let him get into trouble through me. I’m responsible. I must see about him. I can’t go back without him.” “He’s give you the foresheet, sir,” said one of the men. “Yes. The son of a gun. I guess he has,” said another. “There’s some one in that brush,” said Ed. “Them paharos has topped their booms for keeps.” “Well,” said Margaret, taking out his white cloth, noting the wild, frightened flight of a half-dozen parrots, “I’m going to the some one, to find out.” He leaped from the sternsheets into the shallow water, and began to wade ashore, holding his cloth. “Don’t you try it. You come back, sir,” called Tucket. Margaret heard some one (he thought it was Ed’s voice) saying, “He’s brave all right,” and then, behind him, came the click of gunlocks. He glanced back, and saw that two of the men in the sternsheets had taken out their guns, while a third man laid other loaded guns ready to their hands. Ed called to him as he turned. “You come back, sir.” Then, seeing that his words were of no avail, he leaped into the water and caught him by the arm. “Back to the boat, sir,” he said. “It’s not you only. It might be us.” “I must find out about my friend,” said Margaret. “I can’t leave him as he is.” “Bring him back, Ed. Make him come back,” called the boatmen. “Now you go back,” Ed repeated, grinning, “or I’ll have to put you.” He looked up suddenly at the forest. “My Santa Marta!” he cried. “Into the boat. Here they are.” He thrust Margaret backwards towards his fellows, and instantly bent down to shove the boat clear. Both were up to their knees in water at the boat’s side. Some one, it was the man who had worked in Tolu, leaned out and grabbed at Margaret’s collar. “Look out, sons!” cried Tucket.