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Chapter 6 - TO KILL!

The Rajah Muda Saffir, tiring of the excuses and delays which Bududreen

interposed to postpone the fulfillment of his agreement with the former, whereby

he was to deliver into the hands of the rajah a certain beautiful maiden, decided

at last to act upon his own initiative. The truth of the matter was that he had

come to suspect the motives of the first mate of the Ithaca, and not knowing of

the great chest attributed them to Bududreen's desire to possess the girl for

himself.

So it was that as the second mate of the Ithaca with his six men waded down the

bed of the little stream toward the harbor and the ship, a fleet of ten war prahus

manned by over five hundred fierce Dyaks and commanded by Muda Saffir

himself, pulled cautiously into the little cove upon the opposite side of the island,

and landed but a quarter of a mile from camp.

At the same moment von Horn was leading Virginia Maxon farther and farther

from the north campong where resistance, if there was to be any, would be most

likely to occur. At his superior's cough Bududreen had signalled silently to the

men within the enclosure, and a moment later six savage lascars crept stealthily

to his side.

The moment that von Horn and the girl were entirely concealed by the darkness,

the seven moved cautiously along the shadow of the palisade toward the north

campong. There was murder in the cowardly hearts of several of them, and

stupidity and lust in the hearts of all. There was no single one who would not

betray his best friend for a handful of silver, nor any but was inwardly hoping

and scheming to the end that he might alone possess both the chest and the girl.

It was such a pack of scoundrels that Bududreen led toward the north campong

to bear away the treasure. In the breast of the leader was the hope that he had

planted enough of superstitious terror in their hearts to make the sight of the

supposed author of their imagined wrongs sufficient provocation for his murder;

for Bududreen was too sly to give the order for the killing of a white man--the arm

of the white man's law was too long--but he felt that he would rest easier were he

to leave the island with the knowledge that only a dead man remained behind

with the secret of his perfidy.

While these events were transpiring Number Thirteen was pacing restlessly back

and forth the length of the workshop. But a short time before he had had his

author--the author of his misery--within the four walls of his prison, and yet he

had not wreaked the vengeance that was in his heart. Twice he had been on the

The Monster Men