As White slowly recovered from the bewilderment of his situation he saw
that his assailants were Indians, and even recognised in one of them
the hideous features of the lad whom Cabot had named Arsenic.
"What fools we have been," he thought, bitterly. "We might have known
that he would come back with the first band of his friends that he ran
across. And to make sure that they would find us we filled the country
with sign posts all pointing this way. Seems to me that was about as
idiotic a thing as we could have done, and if ever a misfortune was
deserved this one is. I wonder what has become of Cabot, and if they
have caught him yet. I only hope he won't try to fight 'em, for they'd
just as soon kill him as not. Probably they'll kill us both, though,
so that no witnesses can ever appear against them. Poor chap! It was
a sad day for him when he attempted to help a fellow as unlucky as I am
out of his troubles. Now I wonder what's up."
A shrill cry of triumph had come from the shore, and the savages on the
schooner's deck were replying to it with exultant yells.
The cry from shore announced the capture of Cabot by two Indians who
had been left behind for that express purpose. Of course the
new-comers had known as soon as they discovered the dinghy that at
least one of the schooner's defenders was on shore, and had made their
arrangements accordingly.
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