Summary

Francis Lynde Somewhere in the Caribbean — Chapter 12 (1923)

Under compulsion—still under compulsion, as always—Brill tilted the raft and let the anchor slide into the deep water beneath the stern; then under the same sort of persuasion he handed the floating platform around under the yacht's overhang so that we might tow it forward on the port side. While we were hurriedly taking the lashings off the port anchor to repeat the process with it Alison broke in upon us, shaking with excitement.
“They are coming!” she announced breathlessly. “I can't see a thing—they've put their fire out—but I can hear the oars in the rowlocks!”
Source: Wikisource

Francis Lynde Somewhere in the Caribbean — Chapter 12 (1923)

I shouted; and when he whirled to face me I saw that he was no longer the debonair, smooth-shaven idler who had coldly pronounced the sentence of exile upon me in the lobby of the Brown Palace in Denver; gaunt, haggard and with eyes ablaze, with the jaunty yachting flannels hanging in rags, he looked more like an escaped convict cornered and ready to fight to the death.
“I said I'd kill you and I will!” he cried and sprang for the gun he had laid on the cabin table.
Source: Wikisource

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