'The luggage, sir?' questioned Hoskins, speaking to the owner.
Before Feldworth could reply, Seth Hadlow appeared with two large suitcases. Then Francine arrived; behind the girl came Bram Jalway, staggering with the burden of a small but heavy steamer trunk.
As the sailors relieved him, Jalway went back and returned with a small valise. A moment later, Professor Marcolm arrived with his carpetbag and cylindrical oilskin bundle.
Donning slickers and overcoats, the passengers followed the sailors to the deck. Engines were pounding, holding the yacht in position for the launching of the lifeboat. Lanterns, held by crew members, threw a strange glow amid spray from sweeping waves.
No words were spoken. The howling of the gale made voices hopeless. The two sailors were in the lifeboat; others of the crew helped the four passengers aboard. Then came the creak of davits. The little boat lowered toward the teeming ocean.
The captain had gone to the bridge. Pounding engines were forcing the Maldah into the waves, bringing temporary shelter to the side where the boat was being launched. From a larger vessel, the lowering of the lifeboat might have been, disastrous. But the skipper had calculated upon the low build of the yacht.
NESTLED deep among bags and wraps, Francine Feldworth saw the white side of the yacht rise ghostlike in the wind-swept darkness. For an instant, the girl shrank back, fearing that the lifeboat would crash against that threatening wall of steel. Then the swell ended. The tiny boat twisted away.
The yacht dipped downward. The funnel loomed, distinguished by the wraith-like cloud of smoke that eddied in the wind. A wave hoisted the lifeboat like a cockleshell, hurling it clear of the disabled Maldah.
The menace of the launching was ended. The lifeboat, clear away, was dipping deep into the valley of the waves. It was heading toward the darkness of the shore, leaving the Maldah as a row of fading lights that flickered and went out with every surge of the tumultuous sea.
Yet the hazards which the voyagers faced amid the waves were small compared to the strange menace that would lie beyond. Death was to strike amid the storm. It was fortunate that The Shadow had chosen to accompany the others to the shore.
CHAPTER V. STRANGE WELCOMES
BLACKNESS lay ahead as the lifeboat neared the shore. Four oarsmen were at work, timing their strokes as the little craft poised upon the crests of waves.
Francine had been stationed near the bow. One of the sailors had given her a flashlight. The girl was blinking the torch as signal to those on land. In response, she could see the wave of lanterns, moving toward the right along the beach.
Hadlow and Jalway were plying oars, along with the sailors. Professor Marcolm was at the stern, handling the helm. Francine could not see him through the darkness; nor could she turn the light in his direction, for its gleam would be lost to those ashore.
The girl knew that the professor was observing the lanterns from the beach. Plainly, they were signaling that safety lay to the right. The professor was handling the rudder to bear the lifeboat in that direction.
The roar of surf came from ahead. The climax of the danger would be found when the boat struck the crashing breakers. As they veered farther to the right, Francine noticed that the roar was dulling. The lights, however, were closer than before.
They were swinging a new signal, calling for the boat to cut in to shore. White breakers foamed in the darkness. All were to the left, the boat was escaping them. The professor was responding with the tiller. The pitch of the lifeboat lessened.
Sweeping strokes came from the oars as the craft entered the area of an even swell. Shining the light toward the water, Francine suddenly realized that they had been guided to a haven. Those signaling lights had drawn them past the end of a sandbar that must mark the entrance to a shallow inlet. They were safe from the surge of the surf.
The boat was circling the moving lights. The arrivals from the yacht passed inside the line of the beach. Hails came above the whistle of the wind. The men in the boat answered the calls from the shore.
Professor Marcolm swung the helm. The bow of the lifeboat was cutting toward the left. The boat scraped suddenly upon the sand of the bar. A slow, heaving swell drove it almost to land.
Dropping their oars, the two sailors sprang overboard, leaving the control of the boat to Hadlow and Jalway. Waist deep, they splashed past the bow, outlined by Francine's flashlight as they seized a rope to haul the boat up to the bar.
A few moments later, they were clear of the water. The bow of the boat jolted upward as Hadlow and Jalway plied the oars while the sailors pulled.
Lights were coming toward the boat. Dropping the oars, Hadlow and Jalway swung about, ready to aid in the landing. An electric lantern gleamed from among the men ashore. It showed one of the sailors - Hoskins - moving forward to meet the advancing throng.
THEN came a crackly cry of warning from the stern of the lifeboat. Professor Marcolm issued it. The others became rigid. From the group on shore, a man had sprung forward, leaping upon Hoskins. A knife blade glimmered in the light. The sailor staggered.
With that attack came spurts of flame from beside the electric lantern. Gunshots, puny in the whir of the wind, accompanied those bursts. Francine dropped into the boat as a bullet struck the gunwale. The rescuers on the shore were opening fire on the castaways from the yacht!
Dashler, the second sailor, was leaping forward squarely into the lantern's glare. Maddened when he saw Hoskins fall, Dashler was foolishly rushing to the side of his companion. He was heading into what would have been his own doom, but for the prompt action of the three men in the lifeboat.
The captain had placed loaded rifles aboard. Three guns were in the center of the boat. Hadlow, seizing two of the rifles, hurled one to the professor. Jalway, grabbing another, was the first man to open fire.
Hadlow's rifle spoke next; the professor, clutching the weapon thrown to him, also managed to join in the outburst.
As Dashler, unarmed, was suddenly pounced upon by the man who had murdered Hoskins, a quick shot from the boat brought rescue to the foolhardy sailor.
The man with the knife went staggering, just as he tried to plunge the blade into Dashler's body. The sailor tripped upon the beach as he sought to grab his crippled enemy. He formed an easy target for the fiends upon the shore. Death would have been his lot but for another timely shot from the lifeboat.
A rifle bullet found a perfect target: the electric lantern. Out went the light. All that remained were the bobbing glimmers that had been seen before. Hadlow, springing to the bow of the lifeboat, dashed the flashlight from Francine's hand. Again his rifle barked, to mingle with Jalway's fire. A flash came from the professor's gun.
Bobbing lanterns now were targets. Shots from the men on shore were wide; but the marksmen in the lifeboat were able to take aim. Lanterns went bounding to the sand as their holders threw away the telltale objects. Flashes from guns were receding. The enemy was in retreat.
In the darkness, Hadlow and Jalway each found the same idea. The two sprang overboard and floundered to the sand bar. When they reached there, they stared in vain for new flashes from the night. The enemy had fled.
The two men gave the lifeboat another drag. Francine came over the bow; Jalway carried her to the sand bar. The professor followed, gripping his rifle. He had fired only a few shots; he had ceased when the foe had fled. Dashler came stumbling back through the darkness.
'Got another gun?' queried the sailor, gruffly.
'How many were there?' demanded Jalway, in the darkness.
'Three, I think,' recalled Dashler.
'Then there's no more,' put in Hadlow. 'What about ammunition? We've emptied our rifles.'
'I don't think there's any extra cartridges,' returned the sailor.
'There's some here,' crackled the professor, thrusting his rifle into Dashler's hands. 'I only fired three shots.'
DRIZZLY wind beat upon the castaways as they realized their plight. It was lucky for them that the opposition had ended. The gun now held by Dashler was the only rifle that could be used. Huddled in a group, they
