“It is my opinion that the island was the burial ground of the chiefs of the nearby groups,” remarked Leith.  “There is every indication that the people who were buried here were not ordinary people, as you will see when you view the wonders that will meet your eyes to-morrow.”

The Professor beamed through his thick glasses, and, forgetting his injuries, gave a little jump in negotiating an obstruction, but the look of agony which passed across his face proved that his injured limb objected to useless gambols.

“We may be wrong after all,” muttered Holman, after he had listened to Leith’s description of the wonders of the tombs of the long-dead members of Polynesian royal families.  “I hate to be suspicious of a fellow, and I’ll be glad if he proves genuine in the end.”

“So will I,” I remarked.  “If he measures up all right I’ll be half inclined to apologize before I go back to take a gruelling from Captain Newmarch.”

It was Kaipi who stampeded the small ray of charity that had pierced the cluster of suspicions we had collected.  The little Fijian performed the trick about seven o’clock in the evening, and it was done in a most effective manner.  When we had made camp, Leith had sent Soma on ahead with the ostensible purpose of locating the easiest route to the base of the cliffs, and an hour afterward Kaipi managed to attract my attention, and he indicated by signs that he had information to impart.  I seized a chance to help him with the small tent which sheltered the two sisters, and as we tugged at the knots he slipped a small piece of paper into my hand.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Soma drop it,” he explained nervously.  “I follow him just little way think get good chance kill him, but no chance come.  He drop little piece of paper from his belt; me pick ’em up.  I no know what it say; you read.”

I crammed the note into my pocket as Leith approached, but at the first opportunity I dived into a thicket of leaves and opened it with nervous fingers.  It was brief, exceedingly brief, but no number of words could have produced the same cold chill of dread which took possession of me as I glanced over the scrawl upon the paper.  The note read: 

“Five babies for kindergarten.  Arrange everything.  Meet at the Long Gallery.”

I stumbled out on the clearing in a half stupor.  The arrival of the long-expected confirmation of our suspicions had the same effect upon me as a blow from a sandbag.  Leith was apparently everything that Holman and the girls had suspected him of being, and as I looked around at the nearly impenetrable jungle growth upon which the night had come down with that appalling swiftness of the tropics, I understood the helpless condition in which we were placed.  Soma and the other five carriers were evidently tools of the big bully; the person or persons to whom the note was addressed would also stand behind him in a fray, and against this little army there was Holman, Kaipi,