left Dan. Matters were quickly explained, and in less than five minutes we were in a large rowboat and pulling as swiftly over the waters of Hilo bay as Dan and Oliver could pull their old academy stroke.
The canoe had in the meantime gone out of sight around a bend, but this we counted a rather good sign.
"Delverez won't know he is being followed," said Dan. "I only hope we can catch him unawares."
"Are you armed?" questioned Oliver.
"I am," I answered, for I had bought a new pistol at a hardware store in Wailuku to replace that taken from me at the burnt village.
"So am I armed," said Dan. "And I shan't stand any nonsense with the Spaniard after this. He'll find that, so far as we are concerned, the late war isn't over."
By the time the mouth of the river was reached Oliver was rather tired, and I took his place at the oars. I soon caught Dan's stroke, and away we went as swiftly as when we had first left the dock. All around were native canoes, many with odd-looking outriggers of logs attached, and the Kanakas stared at us in wonder as we shot past them. Two tried to race us, but soon gave up the contest.
"American boys make boat go good!
