"That's a good idea. I'll do it!" exclaimed Larry.
"Then let's hurry ashore, and you can make your arrangements while I finish up the details of the indents, bills of lading, custom lists and so on," Captain Tantrella said.
The two walked down the gang plank on to the covered dock. The tangle of wagons, horses and men was worse than ever. Part of the cargo was being taken out and carted away.
"Watch out for yourself that a horse doesn't step on you," cautioned the captain.
It was a needful warning, for the animals, drawing big, heavy trucks, seemed to be every-where. As the two proceeded to thread their way through the maze there came a hail from somewhere in the rear and a voice called:
The commander turned, and so did Larry. The young reporter saw a man hurrying along the dock toward where the commander of the _Turtle_ stood. Evidently he had not seen the captain come to a halt, for he called again:
Then a curious thing happened. The man caught sight of Larry, standing beside the ship commander. He halted and turned to run. As he did so a truck drove up behind him and blocked his retreat.
"It's Mah Retto!" exclaimed Larry, as he caught sight of the man's face.
An instant later there came a warning shout from the driver of the truck. He reined his horses back sharply, but not in time. Retto had stepped directly under their heads. The off animal reared. The man stumbled and fell beneath its hoofs.
Then, with a cry of terror, which was echoed by a score of men who saw the accident, Retto appeared to crumple up in a heap. The forefeet of the big steed seemed to crush him before the driver could back the animal off. Then came silence, Retto lying without moving on the planking of the dock.
"Caught at last," murmured Larry, as he rushed forward.
Instantly the confusion that had reigned on the dock became worse. Men ran to and fro shouting, no one seeming to know what to do.
"We must help him!" cried Captain Tantrella, shoving his papers into his pocket. "Come!"
He and Larry fought their way to the man's side. A crowd surrounded him, but no one offered to do anything. The truck driver had dismounted from his high seat and was quieting his frightened horses.
"It wasn't my fault," he cried. "He ran right under their feet."