[Illustration: LOOK, THERE IS YOUR HORSEMAN!] "I see him," said Dick grimly, "coming up from that shack at the foot of the hill." "Yes, and see those two sailors going down to the beach; they’re toting sacks or something over their shoulders. They can go around to Firewood Bay that way. We’ve got ’em, all right," exclaimed Henry joyfully. "What do you reckon we’d better do now?" "I ’reckon’ there’s going to be one native of this ’Treasure Island’ who’s going to get the beating of his life in just about five minutes," answered Dick, taking an extra tug to his belt. "That fellow is coming right up the hill to this trail, and I’m going to be right at the top to welcome him. Come along, Hank, but lie low and leave him to me." Stooping low, both lads ran across the open space till they came to the edge of the farther wood, where they found an entrance to the trail up which the lone horseman could be seen spurring and lashing his worn-out steed. The animal was too far gone to respond to the cruel treatment, and plodded slowly and wearily upward. "Hank, you go to the other side in case he should happen to turn that way," directed Dick. "That brute won’t escape us; and let me tell you something, I’m not going to beat him up for lashing me, alone, I’m going to try and even up some of the debt for that poor dumb animal he’s torturing." Henry scuttled to the north side of the trail, while Dick waited impatiently where he first had hidden. The labored breathing of the horse came to his ears, and then, preceded by a volley of oaths, rider and horse reached the ridge trail. The native, a dark, swarthy, pock-marked man, about thirty-five years of age, with black, bloodshot eyes and long, yellow teeth, was broad shouldered, and though slender, was well knit. On reaching the crest of the hill the horse’s head was turned southward and again the rider raised the heavy quirt to bring it down on the bleeding, swollen flanks. That blow never fell, for with the quick spring of a tiger Dick grabbed the rider around the waist and tore him from the saddle, throwing him to the ground. At the same time he snatched the quirt from the surprised man’s hand and began belaboring him as he groveled at the boy’s feet. The startled horse meanwhile had turned down the slope and was stumbling towards the foot of the hill. "How do you like that, you yellow cur?" questioned Dick coolly, giving the coward a final blow across the legs. "Do you think you want to try any more tricks on me?" "No! No! Señor! Pardon, Señor! Por Dios, no mas!" cried the man as he saw Dick’s arm rise again and the lash snap ominously. "Get up and vamoose," ordered Dick, pointing along the trail they had followed. "Never mind your horse; you can get him when I get through with you." Never taking his eyes from the man, Dick made him march in front of them. The native limped along protestingly, but every time he stopped to argue Dick applied the lash with good effect.