Plotting in Pirate Seas | Page 2

United States was enough to get him going.
His Cuban schoolmates had found that out, and, whenever Stuart was
around, the letters "U. S." were treated with respect.
This square chin was aggressively thrust forward now, as the boy
looked into the night. There was trouble in the air. He felt it. Deeper
down than the disturbed feelings produced by the tom-tom, he sensed a
prescience of evil on its way.
When, therefore, a figure emerged from the forest into the clearing, and
Stuart saw that this figure was not his father, but that of a negro, the
boy stiffened himself.
"You--Stuart?" the newcomer queried.
"Yes," replied the boy, "that's my name."
The negro hardly hesitated. He walked on, though Stuart was full in the
doorway, jostled him aside roughly, and entered. This attitude toward
the white man, unheard of anywhere else, is common in up-country
Haiti, where, for a century, the black man has ruled, and where the
white man is hated and despised.
A hard stone-like gleam came into Stuart's eyes, but even his mounting
rage did not blind him to the fact that the negro was twice his size and
three times as muscular. Nor did he forget that Hippolyte was in the hut,
and, in any case of trouble, the two blacks would combine against him.
The negro who had pushed him aside paid no further attention to the
boy, but entered into a rapid-fire conversation with Hippolyte. Stuart
could follow the Haitian French dialect quite well, but there were so
many half-hidden allusions in the speech of the two men that it was
easy for him to see that they were both members of some secret band.
The intruder was evidently in some authority over Hippolyte, for he
concluded:

"Everything is well, Yes. Do with the boy, as was arranged."
So saying, he cast a look at Stuart, grinned evilly, and left the hut. The
boy watched him until his powerful figure was lost to view in the
forest.
Then he turned to Hippolyte.
"What does all this mean!" he demanded, as authoritatively as he could.
For a moment Hippolyte did not answer. He looked at the boy with a
reflection of the same evil grin with which the other had favored the
white boy.
A quick choke came into the boy's throat at the change in the negro's
manner. He was in Hippolyte's power, and he knew it. But he showed
never a quiver of fear as he faced the negro.
"What does it all mean?" he repeated.
"It is that you know Manuel Polliovo?"
Stuart knew the name well. His father had mentioned it as that of a
conspirator who was in some way active in a West Indian plot.
"I have heard of him," the boy answered.
"Manuel--he send a message, Yes. He say--Tell Stuart he must go away
from Haiti, at once. His father gone already."
"What does that mean!" exclaimed Stuart. The first words of the
warning had frightened him, but, with the knowledge that his father
was in danger, the fighting self of him rose to the surface, and his fear
passed.
"How?" returned the negro, not understanding.
"That my father has gone already?"

Hippolyte shrugged his shoulders with that exaggeration of the French
shrug common in the islands.
"Maybe Manuel killed him," came the cheerful suggestion. "Jules, who
tell me just now, says Manuel, he have the air very wicked and very
pleased when he tell him."
Stuart doubted this possibility. Ever since the American occupation of
Haiti, in 1915, murder had become less common. The boy thought it
more likely that the missing man had been captured and imprisoned.
But just what could Manuel be doing if he dared such drastic action?
The lad wished that he knew a little more about his father's plans.
A small revolver was in his pocket, and, for one wild moment, Stuart
thought of making a fight for it and going to the rescue of his father.
But his better sense prevailed. Even supposing he could get the drop on
the negro--which was by no means sure--he could not mount guard on
him perpetually. Moreover, if he got near enough to try and tie him up,
one sweep of those brawny arms would render him powerless.
"And if I do not go?" he asked.
"But you do go," declared Hippolyte. "It is I who will see to that, Yes!"
"Was it Manuel who sent you the money?"
"Ah, the good money!" The negro showed his teeth in a wide grin.
"Manuel, he tell Jules to find boy named Stuart. If you big, tie you and
take you to the forest; if little, send you away from the island."
This was one point gained, thought Stuart. Manuel, at least, did not
know what he