"Did you hear that child?" queried the captain. "Scatter! Don't let
either child or the grow one escape. Be spry! Watch out!"
As Byers uttered the last exclamation, a running figure emerged from
the shadow of the nearer trees and started full tilt towards the
quarters where the cook's galley was. All three, running hard had
slightly scattered, in order to intercept the fugitive should he try to
dodge amid the various buildings.
Swift as were the pursuers, the fugitive was more speedy.
At one instant they saw him in a twinkling of light from one of the
open doors. The next instant the form was gone. There came a faint
echo of half-smothered infantile cries.
Byers dashed by the lighted door, then stumbled over a small form on
the ground and there rose another wail, now of terror if not of pain.
Quickly the captain picked up the small figure in big arms and ran on,
holding it gently, yet firmly, and saying:
"There, there, little one! I won't hurt you!"
"D -- don't you hurt my pa, " wailed the small figure in his arms. "He
-- was only making show for me --" More crying.
Where was the man? Only one clew had the captain. The fellow was
round-shouldered, or seemed so in the glimpse Byers caught of them just
before he dropped the child. Presently, one after another of the
sentries came in, breathless yet unsuccessful.
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