THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS
ward into the gloom of the pines. In spite of his care a twig snapped occasionally under his feet as, dodging queer, misshapen branches, he went on toward the center of the wood. The sand was soft and mixed with pine needles and clothed here and there with sad-looking vines already showing new leaves. The trees were more scattered than he had thought, and were twisted strangely by the force of the gales. After a minute he caught sight of something moving ahead of him and, with a leap of his heart, swung his automatic up. But it was Endicott. A second rustling brought Masters to view. Converging, they kept on. One by one the other members of the landing party drew near, Staples last of all. The ensign was clearly nonplused. He looked enquiringly from face to face. Each man shook his head. They stood in silence for a minute. The sound of the surf was strangely hushed here in the center of the little wood. Nelson could hear his watch tick. The ensign was looking toward the tops of the small trees, pivoting slowly on his heel. Jones was doing the same. Nelson, suspecting an airplane, looked, too, but saw nothing except the gray sky through the loose branches. The ensign raised a hand warningly and stepped a dozen paces to the eastward and repeated his
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