Mr. Chalk, after a moment's hesitation,
followed a little way behind.
"Look out!" he screamed, and stopped suddenly, as a figure burst out of
the trees on to the beach a score of yards ahead. Stobell, with a hoarse
cry, raised his hand and dashed at it.
"Stobell!" cried a voice.
"It's Tredgold," cried Stobell. He waited for him to reach them, and
then, turning, all three ran stumbling along the beach.
They ran in silence until they reached the other end of the island. So
far there were no signs of pursuit, and Stobell, breathing hard from his
unwonted exercise, collected a few lumps of coral and piled them on the
beach.
"They had me over--twice," said Tredgold, jerkily; "they tore the clothes
from my back. How I got away I don't know. I fought--kicked--then
suddenly I broke loose and ran."
He threw himself on the beach and drew his breath in long, sobbing gasps.
Stobell, going a few paces forward, peered into the darkness and listened
intently.
"I suppose they're waiting for daylight," he said at last.
He sat down on the beach and, after making a few disparaging remarks
about coral as a weapon, lapsed into silence.
To Mr.
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