A table extended its full length,
already set for a meal, and a round-faced negro, in white serving
jacket, grinned at me, as the men pressed me between them into a narrow
passage leading forward. A moment later I was unceremoniously thrust
into a small apartment on the right, the ropes about my wrists
loosened, and the door shut and locked behind me. For perhaps five
minutes I lay where I had been so unceremoniously dropped, weakened by
loss of blood, and dazed by the rapidity of events. I found it hard to
adjust my faculties to this new situation. I knew what had occurred,
but into whose hands I had fallen, and what was the purpose of this
outrage, was beyond my comprehension. One thing, however, was
sufficiently clear--these men were playing for big stakes, and would
hesitate at nothing to accomplish their purpose. They had already
killed without remorse, and that I still survived was itself a mere
accident. Yet the very fact that I lived yielded me fresh confidence,
a fatalistic belief that my life had thus been spared for a specific
purpose. It might yet be my privilege to foil these villains, and
rescue Mrs. Henley. It was my belief she was also on board this
vessel. I had no reason to assume this, except the wording of
Broussard's report which I had overheard.
Pages:
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179