A strange scene awaited them. Sixteen men lying in a row, all tightly
bound. And what a motley crew they were--Japs, Russians, Mexicans,
Greeks, and even Americans, they had gathered here for a common purpose.
But it is doubtful if one of them could have told what the next step
would be, should their first task be accomplished.

Off to one side, lay Ensign Blake, white and still. One of the seamen was
bending over him.

"Got an ugly one in the chest," he said simply. "Think we can save him?"

The Doctor bent over, and tearing away Blake's garments, made a thorough
examination.

"He'll pull through," he said. "But we must get him to the mission
hospital at Unalaska at once. Begin throwing those rascals aboard.
There's a prison there for their accommodation."

At that moment the two other jackies appeared, carrying a moaning burden
in the shape of a Jap radical.

"One's done in for good," the foremost man explained. "We searched the
ruins. Maybe we can save this fellow."

"Take him aboard," said the Doctor. Then, turning, he directed the men
who carried their fallen commander to the craft.

* * * * *