The philosophy of the porter made Nick forget a little of his chagrin at the way his plans had been upset. He felt that, though the odds were so much against them, he had a man by his side who would help him to leave a mark on their adversaries, no matter how the fracas came out, and that was the main thing under the circumstances. Nick pushed the shrubbery apart, and, with Mike close on his heels and his automatic pistol gripped in his steady fingers, he stepped out to the open sandy beach. Keeping the oncoming sailors at bay by raising his left hand authoritatively--although the leveled automatic in his right may have had something to do with it--he looked straight into the face of the first mate of the yacht, as a fugitive gleam of moonlight fell across it. “So!” ejaculated Nick Carter. “It is you, Kennedy?” “That’s what I’m called,” was the defiant response. “I heard your name spoken just now, but I did not know that it was you,” went on Nick. “It is some time since we met. I might have known that only the brilliant and complex mind of Mademoiselle Valeria could have devised and carried out this strange series of kidnapings at the Hotel Amsterdam. Then, of course, that yacht out there is the _Idaline_.” “You can guess anything you like,” returned Kennedy gruffly. “No matter who is behind this affair, you can bet it is going through without your interference, Mr. Nicholas Carter. I have my orders regarding you, and I am going to carry them out.” “From the Baroness Latour, of course,” said Nick Carter, dropping the name from his lips with mocking emphasis. “Do you mind telling me what your orders are about me?” “I’m instructed to capture you if I catch you prowling around. So you’d better surrender and save trouble. We are a crowd, and there is only you two. You can’t do anything.” “Oh, we can’t do anything, eh? You are too many for us? Well, you have the odds, I’ll admit. But I think I can play a card that will stop you from taking the pot right away.” “You can play any card you like, and it won’t make any difference,” was Kennedy’s contemptuous rejoinder. “We shall see,” said Nick. “Now, I realize that it would be impossible for us to shoot down the whole seven of you, so we won’t try to do it.” “You have that much sense, anyhow,” rejoined Kennedy. “Let me finish,” continued Carter. “Out of the seven of you, I have my eye on two men. You don’t know which two, but I do. Remember, two men, Kennedy!” “Well, what of it?” “Just this: As surely as one of you--any one of the whole seven--makes a move toward us, so surely I will shoot those two! And I generally get what I aim at. You know that, Kennedy. While I am shooting down two of your number, this man at my side will also shoot down two. By that time, unless we have gone under, the odds between us will be more nearly equal. You will be only three to two, and I am not afraid of those odds.” CHAPTER IX. ONE AGAINST SEVEN.