It was Matt Murphy. He stood aft at the stern post, beckoning, and beside him was the fat little Doctor Marley, white with fright, trembling, wringing his hands. Bob, Jack and Mr. Temple started towards him. Frank who had taken one swift glance around, called that he would guard their rear and, sending an occasional shot along the deck, walked backward after his companions.
“Come on, come on,” called Murphy’s voice impatiently.
What did he want? What was his intention? Frank found time to wonder. Nevertheless, he did not relax his vigilance. Sending several more shots along the deck, he bumped into a form and whirled about. It was Murphy. Then the boy saw a boat in the water below, with the doctor and Mr. Temple already in it, Jack climbing over the thwarts and Bob sliding down the rope.
A yell of rage went up from several Chinese sufficiently courageous to peer from their hiding places and realize that their prey were escaping.
“Give ’em another shot to hold them,” commanded Murphy.
Several Chinese who had gained their feet and started forward threw themselves prone again on the deck.
“Now give me that gun,” said Murphy. “I fixed your friend’s gun for ’im, so ye’ll have one in the boat. And down the rope with ye, an’ cast off.”
“No buts about it,” said Murphy, roughly. “I heard ye callin’ for help an’ I want none of Uncle Sam’s men puttin’ me in jail for the rest of me life. Over ye go, Jonah, an’ good luck to ye.”
Frank slid down the rope which Mr. Temple, braced in the bow of the boat, held steady for him. Jack and Bob already were at the oars and fending off from the side of the trawler. Fat little Doctor Marley crouched frightened in the stern.
“Give ’way,” cried Matt Murphy, from above.
As he made his way across the thwarts toward the stern, the better to trim the boat, Frank glanced up. Over the rail of the trawler leaned Matt Murphy waving farewell with his uninjured hand, in which was clutched the revolver taken from Frank.
Frank waved as his chums bent lustily to the oars and the boat began to dance across the still water, widening the gap between it and the trawler. A feeling of regret at parting with Murphy crossed Frank’s mind. A strange man, a leader of crooks, was Murphy. Yet Frank had been quick to sense the finer instincts beneath the surface and companionable traits which drew him strangely.