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diff --git a/22752-h/22752-h.htm b/22752-h/22752-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1928fe9 --- /dev/null +++ b/22752-h/22752-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9790 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Pirate of Panama, by William MacLeod Raine. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + <!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + h2 {text-align: center; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 2em; clear: both;} + h3 {text-align: center; margin-top: 2em; font-weight: bold; clear: both;font-size: 1.2em;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} + table p {text-align: center; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0;} + h2.toc {margin-top: 1em;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align:center;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; + position: absolute; right: 2%; border:1px solid white; + padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; + color: #444; background-color: #EEE;} + h1 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width: 25%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + h2.loi {margin-top: 1em;} + hr.dashed {width: 90%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px dashed;} + hr.adbreak {width: 80%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px dashed;} + hr.full {width: 90%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + a.pagenum:after {border: 1px solid silver; padding: 1px 3px; content: attr(title);} + .transnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 10% 1em 10%; + font-size: 80%; padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em;} + .transnote p {text-align: left;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pirate of Panama, by William MacLeod Raine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pirate of Panama + A Tale of the Fight for Buried Treasure + +Author: William MacLeod Raine + +Release Date: September 24, 2007 [EBook #22752] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIRATE OF PANAMA *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="transnote"> +<p style='font-size:larger; text-align:center;'>Transcriber's Note</p> +<p>The author refers to George Fleming's brother as both "Harry" + and "Henry" in this story. The original naming has been retained. +</p></div> + +<hr class='dashed' /> + +<div class="figcenter" style='width:329px'> +<a name="illus-000" id="illus-000"></a> +<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" alt=""PERHAPS I COULD DRESS THE HURT." SUGGESTED MISS WALLACE A LITTLE SHYLY. Frontispiece. p. 109" title="" width="329" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"PERHAPS I COULD DRESS THE HURT." SUGGESTED MISS WALLACE A LITTLE SHYLY. <i>Frontispiece.</i> p. 109</span> +</div> + +<hr class='dashed' /> + +<table style="margin: auto; border: black 1px solid; width:25em" summary=""><tr><td> + <p style=" font-size:2.2em; margin-top:1em;">THE PIRATE OF</p> + <p style=" font-size:2.2em; margin-bottom:.2em;">PANAMA</p> + <p style=" font-size:1em; font-style:italic; margin-bottom:2em;">A TALE OF THE FIGHT FOR<br />BURIED TREASURE</p> + <p style=" font-size:.8em; margin-bottom:2em;">BY</p> + <p style=" font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:.5em;">WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE</p> + <p style=" font-size:.7em;">AUTHOR OF "WYOMING," "A TEXAS RANGER," "BUCKY O'CONNOR,"</p> + <p style=" font-size:.7em; margin-bottom:4em;">"BRAND BLOTTERS," "MAVERICKS," ETC.</p> + </td></tr> + <tr><td> + <div class='figcenter'> + <img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt="emblem" /> + </div> + </td></tr> + <tr><td> + <p style=" font-size:1.2em; margin-top:2em;">G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY</p> + <p style=" font-size:1em; margin-bottom:2em;">PUBLISHERS NEW YORK</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class='dashed' /> + +<p class='center' style='font-size:small'> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1914, by</span><br /> +G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY<br /><br /> +<i>The Pirate of Panama</i><br /> +Press of<br /> +J. J. Little & Ives Co.<br /> +New York +</p> + +<hr class='dashed' /> + +<p class='center' style='font-size:0.8em;'>TO<br /> +<span style='font-size:larger'>CAPTAIN FORRESTER<br /> +FIRST MATE ROBERT, QUARTERMASTER WILLIAM<br /> +AND BO'SUN KENNETH</span><br /> +THIS VOYAGE OF THE <i>ARGOS</i> IS DEDICATED</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<div style='width:15em; margin:auto;'> +<p>Ho, gallant tars and true, fall to!<br /> +Up anchor, lads, and sheets unfurl.<br /> +Let engines throb a low tattoo;<br /> +It's "All aboard for Panama."</p> + +<p>The snell wind whistles shrill o'erhead,<br /> +The bullets spatter thick below,<br /> +By candle light we count our dead,<br /> +While we are bound for Panama.</p> + +<p>For all true men waits hidden gold,<br /> +'Gainst all true hearts fight pirate foes,<br /> +Who bears him with a courage bold<br /> +Will land with us at Panama.</p> + +<p>Into the deep drive strong and sure,<br /> +Straight as an arrow for the goal,<br /> +From off the course let nothing lure,<br /> +The breeze is fair for Panama.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='dashed' /> + +<h2 class="toc"><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; font-variant:small-caps"> +<col style="width:18%;" /> +<col style="width:2%;" /> +<col style="width:70%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:x-small'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:x-small'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">I.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">A Scrap of Paper</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_SCRAP_OF_PAPER_117">7</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">II.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Captain Bothwell Interrupts</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CAPTAIN_BOTHWELL_INTERRUPTS_519">22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">III.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Concerning Doubloon Spit</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CONCERNING_DOUBLOON_SPIT_988">39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">IV.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Man with the Secret</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_MAN_WITH_THE_SECRET_1272">51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">V.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">We Find a Ship</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#WE_FIND_A_SHIP_1528">61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">VI.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Missing Corner</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_MISSING_CORNER_1817">72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">VII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">In the Fog</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#IN_THE_FOG_2141">84</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">VIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Aboard the Argos</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#ABOARD_THE_ARGOS_2326">91</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">IX.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Bothwell Makes a Move</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#BOTHWELL_MAKES_A_MOVE_2579">101</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">X.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Another Stowaway</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#ANOTHER_STOWAWAY_2815">110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XI.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Taking Stock</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#TAKING_STOCK_3178">123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">My Unexpected Guest</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#MY_UNEXPECTED_GUEST_3591">137</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Mutiny</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#MUTINY_3907">147</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XIV.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Battle</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_BATTLE_4310">161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XV.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Morning After</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_MORNING_AFTER_4497">168</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XVI.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Night Attack</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_NIGHT_ATTACK_4776">178</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XVII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">A Taste of the Inquisition</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_TASTE_OF_THE_INQUISITION_5090">189</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XVIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Anchored Hearts</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#ANCHORED_HEARTS_5574">207</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XIX.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Sense And Nonsense</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#SENSE_AND_NONSENSE_5770">214</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XX.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Big Ditch</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_BIG_DITCH_6083">225</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXI.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">A Message From Bucks</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_MESSAGE_FROM_BUCKS_6373">237</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Treasure-Trove</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#TREASURETROVE_6742">250</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">Aboard the Schooner</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#ABOARD_THE_SCHOONER_7179">266</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXIV.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">A Rat in a Trap</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_RAT_IN_A_TRAP_7562">280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXV.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">A Rescue</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#A_RESCUE_7905">292</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXVI.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">The Last Brush</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#THE_LAST_BRUSH_8092">299</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="right">XXVII.</td> + <td></td> + <td align="left">In Harbor</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#IN_HARBOR_8480">312</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class='dashed' /> + +<h2 class="loi"><a name="Illustrations" id="Illustrations"></a>Illustrations</h2> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> +<col style="width:80%;" /> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<tr><td align="left">"Perhaps I could dress the hurt." suggested Miss Wallace a little shyly. <i>Frontispiece.</i></td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#illus-000">109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Crikey! I didn't know that was there," Jimmie cried.</td><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#illus-001">240</a></td></tr> +</table> +<hr class='major' /> + +<h1>The Pirate of Panama</h1> + +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<a name="A_SCRAP_OF_PAPER_117" id="A_SCRAP_OF_PAPER_117"></a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_7" id="pg_7">7</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>A SCRAP OF PAPER</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was a dismal, sodden morning, with heavy clouds banked in the western +sky. Rain had sloshed down since midnight so that the gutter in front of +me was a turbid little river.</p> + +<p>A chill wind swept across the city and penetrated to the marrow. From +the summit of the hill, three blocks above me, my car was sliding down, +but I clung to the curb to postpone until the last moment a plunge into +the flowing street.</p> + +<p>Since I was five-and-twenty, in tip-top health, and Irish by descent, I +whistled while the windswept drops splashed the shine from my shoes. +Rain or sun, 'twas a good little old world, though, faith! I could have +wished it a less humdrum one.</p> + +<p>For every morning I waited at that same time and place for the same car +to take me to my desk in the offices of Kester & Wilcox, and every day I +did the same sort of routine grubbing in preparation +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_8" id="pg_8">8</a></span> of cases for more +experienced lawyers to handle.</p> + +<p>Sometimes it flashed across me that I was a misfit. Nature had cast me +for the part of a soldier of fortune, and instead I was giving my +services to help a big corporation escape the payment of damages for +accidents caused by its cars. I had turned my back on the romance of +life. Well, it was the penalty one must pay to win success.</p> + +<p>And while I stood on the curb there fluttered down to me from the dun +heavens an invitation to the great adventure my soul longed for. It came +on a gust of wind and lay on the sidewalk at my feet, a torn sheet of +paper yellowed with age.</p> + +<p>I had no premonition of what that faded bit of parchment meant, no +picture of men in deadly battle, of the flash of knives or the gleam of +revolvers, of lusty seamen lying curled on the deck where they had +fallen at the call of sudden death. The only feeling that stirred in me +was a faint curiosity at the odd markings on the sheet.</p> + +<p>My foot moved forward and pinned the paper to the cement walk. Should I +pick it up? Of what use? It would turn out to be only some Chinese +laundry bill. Already the gong of the street-car was not more than a +block away as it swept down the hill. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_9" id="pg_9">9</a></span></p> + +<p>Was it some faint sound that drew my eyes up? Or was I answering the +call of my destiny when my lifted gaze met the figure of a young woman +framed in a second-story window? She was leaning far out, with arm +stretched down and fingers opened wide.</p> + +<p>Behind her stood a man, also out of the window to his waist. One of his +hands clutched her wrist, the other reached toward hers. That he had +been trying to take from her the paper she had flung away was an easy +guess.</p> + +<p>I had but the fraction of a second before my car was slowing for the +crossing, but it was long enough to read in his dark face a malignant +rage, in her fair, flushed one a defiant triumph. Stooping, I gathered +the document that lay under my foot, then ran forward and swung to the +platform of the car.</p> + +<p>If there had been time for second thought I might have stayed to see the +drama out, or I might have left the cause of quarrel where it lay. As it +was I had done neither one thing nor the other. Having yielded to +impulse so far as to pick up the paper, I had then done the conventional +thing and ignored the little scene above.</p> + +<p>But when I glanced back up the hill I glimpsed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_10" id="pg_10">10</a></span> a man flying bareheaded +from a doorway and pursuing the car with gestures of impotent fury.</p> + +<p>All the way down to the business quarter the odd affair challenged my +interest. What did it mean? The picture in the window was no laughing +romp meant to end in kisses. So much I was willing to swear. There was +passion in both the faces.</p> + +<p>Out of those two lives I had snatched a vivid moment, perhaps one of +many common to them, perhaps the first their intersecting life-lines had +developed.</p> + +<p>Was the man her husband? I was not willing to think so. More likely a +brother, I persuaded myself. For it was already being borne in upon me +that freakish chance had swept me into the orbit of the thing we spell +Romance.</p> + +<p>A petty domestic quarrel suggested itself as the obvious solution, but +the buoyant youth in me refused any such tame explanation. For the girl +was amazingly pretty.</p> + +<p>After a glance at it I put the crumpled paper in my pocketbook. In that +crowded car, hanging to a strap, I could make nothing of it. At the +office my time belonged to Kester & Wilcox until noon, for I was still +in that preliminary stage of my legal career during which I found it +convenient to exchange +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_11" id="pg_11">11</a></span> my inexperience for fifteen dollars a week. A +clouded real-estate title was presumably engaging my attention, but +between my mind and the abstract kept jumping a map with the legend +"Doubloon Spit" above it.</p> + +<p>Faith, the blood sang in my veins. The scent of adventure was in my +nostrils. A fool you may think me, but I was already on the hunt for +buried treasure. Half a dozen times I had the paper out furtively, and +as soon as my hour of release came I cleared the desk and spread the +yellow, tattered document upon it.</p> + +<p>The ink had been originally red, but in places it was faded almost to +illegibility. The worn edges at the folds showed how often it had been +opened and scanned. One lower corner had been torn away, leaving perhaps +seven-eighths of the original manuscript. Yet in spite of its imperfect +state of preservation I found this relic of a dead and forgotten past +pulse-stirring.</p> + +<p>Before me lay the map of a peninsula, the upper part sketched in vaguely +but the toe marked apparently with the greatest care. The first detail +that caught my eye was a sketch of a brig in the bay, beneath which was +written:</p> + +<p>"Here <i>Santa Theresa</i> went to Hell."</p> + +<p>It was plain that the coast line was charted accurately +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_12" id="pg_12">12</a></span> so as to show +the precise location of the inlets. It was a contour map, giving the +hills, sand reaches, and groves. At the nearest one of these last was +jotted down the words: "Umbrela Tree."</p> + +<p>A little cross had been drawn near the foot of a hill. From this a long +line ran into the bay with a loop at the end in which had been printed +neatly: "Where Lobardi croked. Good riddance."</p> + +<p>Not far from this were three little circles, beneath which was one word +in capitals, "ITTE."</p> + +<p>My heart leaped like an unleashed foxhound taking the trail. What could +it mean but treasure? What had happened to the <i>Santa Theresa</i>? Had some +one helped Lobardi to "croke" by cracking his skull? Could that dim, red +ink once have been, the life blood in a man's veins?</p> + +<p>Here was food enough to fire the blood of a cool-headed Yankee, let +alone that of a mad Irishman. I caught a vision of a boatload of +red-turbaned buccaneers swarming up the side of a brig; saw the swish of +cutlases and the bellying smoke of pistols; beheld the strangely garbed +seadogs gathered around an open chest of yellow gold bars shining in the +sun.</p> + +<p>For an eyebeat it was all clear to me as day. Then I laughed aloud at +myself in returning sanity. I was in the twentieth century, not the +eighteenth. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_13" id="pg_13">13</a></span> An imagination so vivid that it read all this from a scrap +of paper picked from the gutter needed curbing. I repocketed the chart +and went to lunch.</p> + +<p>But I found I could not laugh myself out of my interest. The mystery of +it drew me, despite myself. While I waited for my chop I had the map out +again, studying it as a schoolboy does a paper-backed novel behind his +geography.</p> + +<p>Beneath the map were some closely written lines of directions for +finding "itte," whatever that might be. As to that my guess never +wavered.</p> + +<p>Whoever had drawn the map had called the peninsula "Doubloon Spit." Why? +Clearly because he and his fellow buccaneers had buried there the +ill-gotten treasure they had gained from piracy. No doubt the <i>Santa +Theresa</i> was a gold ship they had waylaid and sunk.</p> + +<p>At my entrance I had taken a little side table, but the restaurant was +filling rapidly. A man stopped beside my table and took off a frogged +overcoat with astrakhan trimmings. He hung this and his hat on a rack +and sat down in the chair opposite me.</p> + +<p>Instinctively I had covered the map with a newspaper. With amazement I +now discovered that my <i>vis-à-vis</i> was the villain of the Adventure of +the Young Lady and the Chart, as the author of the "New Arabian Nights" +would have phrased it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_14" id="pg_14">14</a></span></p> + +<p>The man was in a vile humor, so much could be seen at a glance. Without +doing me the honor of a single glance he stared moodily in front of him, +his heavy black brows knit to a grim frown.</p> + +<p>He was a splendid specimen of physical manhood, big and well-muscled, +with a broad, flat back and soldierly carriage. That he was a leader of +men was an easy deduction, though the thin, straight mouth and the hard +glitter in the black eyes made the claim that he would never lead toward +altruism.</p> + +<p>In quick, short puffs he smoked a cigarette, and as soon as he had +finished it he lit a second. Men all around us were waiting their turn, +but I observed that the first lift of his finger brought an attendant.</p> + +<p>"Tenderloin with mushrooms—asparagus tips—strong black +coffee—cognac," he ordered with the curtness of an army officer +snapping commands at a trooper. His voice was rich and cultivated, but +had a very distinctly foreign quality in spite of the fact that his +English was faultless.</p> + +<p>I took advantage of the distraction of the waiter's presence to slip the +map from the table into my pocket. After this I breathed freer, for it +is scarcely necessary to say that in the struggle for the map—and by +this time I had quite made up my +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_15" id="pg_15">15</a></span> mind that there would be fought out a +campaign for its possession—I was wholly on the side of the young +woman.</p> + +<p>But as yet I knew none of the facts, and so was not in a position to +engage with him to advantage. I called for the check and took my coat +and hat from the rack.</p> + +<p>Then I made my first mistake. I should have carried my raincoat to the +door before putting it on. As I buttoned it recognition began to +struggle faintly into his eyes. I waited for no further developments.</p> + +<p>But as I went out of the door I could see him hurrying forward. +Instantly I turned to the right, dodged into a tobacco shop, ran swiftly +through it to the surprise of the proprietor, and found myself in an +alley. I took this in double-quick time and presently had lost myself in +the hurrying crowds on Kearney Street. Five minutes later I was in the +elevator on the way to our office.</p> + +<p>I set to work resolutely, but my drifting thoughts went back to the +military man with the frogged coat, to the distractingly pretty girl who +did not want him to have the map, and to that spit of land lapped by +Pacific waves in a latitude and longitude that shall be nameless for +reasons that will hereafter appear. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_16" id="pg_16">16</a></span></p> + +<p>It must have been fifteen minutes after my return that our office boy, +Jimmie, came in to tell me that a lady wanted to see me.</p> + +<p>"She's a peach, too," he volunteered with the genial impudence that +characterized him.</p> + +<p>This brought me back to earth, a lawyer instead of a treasure seeker, +and when my first client crossed the threshold she found me deep in a +volume on contracts, eight other large and bulky reference books piled +on the table.</p> + +<p>The name on the card Jimmie had handed me was Miss Evelyn Wallace. I +rose at once to meet her.</p> + +<p>"You are Mr. John Sedgwick?" asked a soft, Southern voice that fell on +my ears like music.</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>My bow stopped abruptly. I stifled an exclamation. The young woman was +the one I had seen framed in a second-story window some hours earlier.</p> + +<p>"I think you know me by sight," she said, not smiling exactly, but +little dimples lurking in her cheeks ready to pounce out at the first +opportunity. "That is, unless you have forgotten?"</p> + +<p>Forgotten! I might have told her it would be hard to forget that +piquant, oval face of exquisite coloring, and those blue eyes in which +the sunshine danced like gold. I might have, but I did not. Instead, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_17" id="pg_17">17</a></span> I +murmured that my memory served me well enough.</p> + +<p>"I have come for the paper you were good enough to take care of for me, +Mr. Sedgwick. It belongs to me—the paper you picked up this morning."</p> + +<p>From my pocket I took the document and handed it to her.</p> + +<p>"May I ask how you found out who I was, Miss Wallace?"</p> + +<p>You might have thought that roses had brushed her cheeks and left their +color there.</p> + +<p>"I asked a policeman," she confessed, just a little embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"To find you a man in a gray ulster, medium height, weight, and +complexion," I laughed.</p> + +<p>"I had seen you come from the Graymount once or twice, and by describing +you to the landlady he discovered who you were and where you worked," +she explained.</p> + +<p>Her touch of shyness had infected me, too. It was as if unwittingly I +had intruded on her private affairs, had seen that morning an incident +not meant for the eyes of a stranger. We avoided the common interest +between us, though both of us were thinking of it.</p> + +<p>Later I was to learn that she had been as eager +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_18" id="pg_18">18</a></span> to approach the subject +as I. But she could not very well invite a stranger into her difficulty +any more than I could push myself into her confidence.</p> + +<p>"I hope you find the paper exactly as you left it, or rather as it left +you," I stammered at last.</p> + +<p>She had put the map in her hand-bag, but at my words she took it out, +not to verify my suggestion but to prolong for a moment her stay in +order to find courage to broach the difficulty. For she had come to the +office in desperation, determined to confide in me if she liked my face +and felt I was to be trusted.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It was torn at the moment I threw it away. My cousin has the other +part. It is a map."</p> + +<p>"So I noticed. My impression was that the paper was yours. I examined it +to see whether it held your name and address."</p> + +<p>Her blue eyes met mine shyly.</p> + +<p>"Did it—interest you at all?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and it did. Nothing in a long time has interested me more."</p> + +<p>I might have made an exception in favor of the owner of the document, +but once more I decided to move with discretion.</p> + +<p>"You understood it?" Her soft voice trailed upward so that her +declaration was in essence a question. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_19" id="pg_19">19</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am thinking it was only a wild guess I made."</p> + +<p>"I'd like right well to hear it."</p> + +<p>My eyes met hers.</p> + +<p>"Buried treasure."</p> + +<p>With eager little nods she assented.</p> + +<p>"Right, sir; treasure buried by pirates early in the nineteenth century. +We have reason to think it has never been lifted."</p> + +<p>"Good reason?"</p> + +<p>"The best. Except the copy I have, this map is the only one in +existence. Only four men saw the gold hidden. Two of them were killed by +the others within the hour. The third was murdered by his companion some +weeks later. The fourth—but it is a long story. I must not weary you +with it."</p> + +<p>"Weary me," I cried, and I dare swear my eyes were shining. But there I +pulled myself up. "You're right. I had forgotten. You don't know me. +There is no reason why you should tell me the story."</p> + +<p>"That is true," she asserted. "It is of no concern to you."</p> + +<p>That she was a little rebuffed by my words was plain. I made haste to +explain them.</p> + +<p>"I am meaning that there is no reason why you should trust me." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_20" id="pg_20">20</a></span></p> + +<p>"Except your face," she answered impulsively. "Sir, you are an honest +gentleman. Chance, or fate, has thrown you in my way. I must go to +somebody for advice. I have no friends in San Francisco that can help +me—none nearer than Tennessee. You are a lawyer. Isn't it your business +to advise?"</p> + +<p>"If you put it that way. But it is only fair to say that I am a very +inexperienced one. To be frank, I've never had a client of my own."</p> + +<p>Faith, her smile was warm as summer sunshine.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll be your first, unless you refuse the case. But it may turn +out dangerous. I have no right to ask you to take a risk for me"—she +blushed divinely—"especially since I am able to pay so small a fee."</p> + +<p>"My fee shall be commensurate with my inexperience," I smiled. "And are +you thinking for a moment that I would let my first case get away from +me at all? As for the danger—well, I'm an Irishman."</p> + +<p>"But it isn't really a law case at all."</p> + +<p>"So much the better. I'll have a chance of winning it then."</p> + +<p>"It will be only a chance."</p> + +<p>"We'll turn the chance into a certainty."</p> + +<p>"You seem very sure, sir." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_21" id="pg_21">21</a></span></p> + +<p>"I must, for confidence is all the stock in trade I have," was my gay +answer.</p> + +<p>From her bag Miss Wallace took the map and handed it to me.</p> + +<p>"First, then, you must have this put in a safety-deposit vault until we +need it. I'm sure attempts will be made to get it."</p> + +<p>"By whom?"</p> + +<p>"By my cousin. He'll stick at nothing. If you had met him you would +understand. He is a wonder. I'm afraid of him. His name is Boris +Bothwell—Captain Bothwell, lately cashiered from the British army for +conduct unbecoming a gentleman. In one of his rages he nearly killed a +servant."</p> + +<p>"But you are not English, are you?"</p> + +<p>"He is my second cousin. He isn't English, either. His father was a +Scotchman, his mother a Russian."</p> + +<p>"That explains the name—Boris Bothwell."</p> + +<p>Like an echo the words came back to me from over my shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Capt. Boris Bothwell to see you, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>In surprise I swung around. The office boy had come in quietly, and hard +on his heels was a man in a frogged overcoat with astrakhan trimmings. +Not half an hour earlier I had sat opposite him at luncheon.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_22" id="pg_22">22</a></span> +<a name="CAPTAIN_BOTHWELL_INTERRUPTS_519" id="CAPTAIN_BOTHWELL_INTERRUPTS_519"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>CAPTAIN BOTHWELL INTERRUPTS</h3> +</div> + +<p>As he moved into the room with his easy, vigorous stride, one could not +miss the impression, of his extraordinary physical power.</p> + +<p>I am an outdoor man myself, but I have never seen the day when I was a +match for Boris Bothwell at feats of strength. Unusually deep in the +chest and wide of shoulder, with long, well-packed arms that gave his +big, sinewy hands a tremendous grip, he was not in the least +muscle-bound.</p> + +<p>In my junior year I was the champion intercollegiate sprinter of the +Pacific coast, but I have done a fifty with Bothwell for no less a stake +than my life, and not gained two feet on the man.</p> + +<p>At sight of his cousin he bowed ironically, with the most genial of +mocking smiles. To that smile I despair of doing justice. It was not +from the lips merely, nor yet was it from the good will in him, but had +its birth apparently of some whimsical thought that for the moment lent +his face a rare charm. A second bow was for me.</p> + +<p>"Mr. John Sedgwick, I presume?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_23" id="pg_23">23</a></span></p> + +<p>"At your service, sir."</p> + +<p>He removed his coat leisurely and hung it on the back of a chair.</p> + +<p>"Just so. I've had the devil of a time running you down, but here we are +at last. And all's well that ends well."</p> + +<p>"You have business with me?" I asked curtly.</p> + +<p>"Even at the risk of interrupting a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with the most charming +young lady under heaven." His head dipped again with derisive courtesy +toward Miss Wallace. "But I need detain you scarce a moment. You found +this morning a paper I had the misfortune to lose. You will allow me to +offer a thousand thanks for the very good care you have doubtless taken +of it and will permit me to relieve you of it."</p> + +<p>He was the very letter of urbanity, but beneath the velvet of his voice +I felt the steel. It lay, too, in the glitter of the cold eyes that +gimleted mine sharply.</p> + +<p>Be sure I gave him back his smile and his insolent <i>aplomb</i>.</p> + +<p>"Surely you are mistaken, Captain Bothwell. I recollect finding nothing +that belongs to you."</p> + +<p>"We'll waive that point. You found a paper," he answered quietly, +drawing up a chair and seating himself astride it with his face to the +back. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_24" id="pg_24">24</a></span></p> + +<p>"I picked up a paper that fell from the hand of Miss Wallace."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. I speak, of course, in the interest of my cousin. If you have +returned it to her my purpose is served."</p> + +<p>Impatient at our fencing, or afraid, perhaps, that I might be deceived +by his suavity, the girl cut in tartly:</p> + +<p>"You think you could rob me more successfully next time, Boris?"</p> + +<p>His kindly toleration was a lesson in diplomacy.</p> + +<p>"Fie, fie, Evie! A family difference of opinion. I think we must not +trouble Mr. Sedgwick with our little diversions <i>entre nous</i>."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, you are a day after the fair, Captain Bothwell. Miss +Wallace has already done me the honor to consult me in an advisory +capacity."</p> + +<p>I let him have my declaration of war with the airiest manner in the +world. My spirits were rising with the nearness of the battle, and I +thought it would do our cause not the least harm in the world to let him +see I was not a whit afraid to cross blades.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Then for the matter in hand I may consider you one of the +family. I congratulate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_25" id="pg_25">25</a></span> you, Evie. Shall we say a brother—or a +cousin—or——"</p> + +<p>"It isn't necessary to be a cad, Boris," she flung back hotly.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me. You are right—neither necessary nor desirable. I offer +regrets." Then of a sudden the apology went out of his face like the +flame from a blown candle. He swung curtly around upon me. "Mr. +Sedgwick, I must trouble you for the map."</p> + +<p>I will be the last to deny that there was something compelling about the +man. He sat there stroking his imperial, while the black eyes of the man +held mine with a grip of steel. Masterful he looked, and masterful I +found him to the last day of that deadly duel we fought out to a finish.</p> + +<p>In that long moment of suspended animation when only our eyes +lived—crossed and felt the temper of each other as with the edge of +grinding rapiers—we took each the measure of his foe pretty accurately. +If I held my own it was but barely. The best I could claim was a drawn +battle.</p> + +<p>"Regretfully I am compelled to decline your request."</p> + +<p>"It is not a request but a demand. Come, sir, the map!" he repeated more +harshly.</p> + +<p>That he would somehow back his demand I did +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_26" id="pg_26">26</a></span> not for an instant doubt, +though as to how I was still in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Let <i>me</i> set you right, Captain Bothwell. This is a law office, in the +city of San Francisco, United States of America. I am neither Tommy +Atkins nor a Russian serf. Therefore, I again decline."</p> + +<p>Coals of fire lay in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I—want—that—map!"</p> + +<p>"So I gather, and as a child you often wanted the moon. But did you get +it?" I inquired pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"The map—the map!" He had not raised his voice a note, but I give you +my word his eyes were devilish. He was a dangerous man in an ugly frame +of mind.</p> + +<p>"Certainly you are a man of one idea, captain. Show proof of ownership +and I shall be glad to comply with your request."</p> + +<p>"But certainly."</p> + +<p>So quick was his motion that the revolver seemed to have leaped to his +hand of its own accord.</p> + +<p>"I give you my word, Mr. John Sedgwick of San Francisco, United States +of America, that in the event you do not at once hand me that map I +shall blow the top of your head off!"</p> + +<p>In a measure I was prepared for this. I told myself that we were in the +heart of a great city, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_27" id="pg_27">27</a></span> in daylight, with the twentieth century setting +of a fifteen-story office building. Were I to put my head out of the +window a thousand hurrying people on Market Street would hear my call.</p> + +<p>Yet I knew that I might as well be alone with him on a desert island for +all the help that could reach me. I knew, too, that he was not bluffing. +What he said he would do, that he would do.</p> + +<p>My face can on occasion be wooden.</p> + +<p>"Interesting, if true," I retorted coolly.</p> + +<p>"And absolutely true. Make no mistake about that, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>His hand rested on the back of the chair for a support. My eyes looked +straight into the blue barrel of his weapon. It was a ticklish moment. I +congratulate myself that my nerves were in good condition. My fingers +played a tattoo upon a sheet of paper on my desk. Beneath that page of +office stationery lay the map he wanted.</p> + +<p>"One moment, captain. This is not Russia. Have you considered that the +freedom of my country carries with it disadvantages? You would probably +be hanged by the neck till you were dead."</p> + +<p>His mood had changed, but I knew he was not a whit less dangerous +because the veneer of suave mockery masked the savagery of the Slav.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. The unwritten law, my friend. I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_28" id="pg_28">28</a></span> find you insulting my +cousin and the hot blood in me boils. I avenge her. Regrettable, of +course. Too hasty, perhaps. But—oh well, let bygones be bygones."</p> + +<p>In one breath he had tried and acquitted himself.</p> + +<p>"And do you think that I would agree to your accursed lies?" his cousin +asked, white as new-fallen snow.</p> + +<p>"Let us hope so. Otherwise I should have to base my action upon a +construction less creditable to you. The point is that I shall not +hesitate to carry out my promise. We can arrange the details later, my +dear. Come, Mr. Sedgwick! Choose!"</p> + +<p>"You coward!" flashed his cousin in a blaze of scorn.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, dear Evie. All point of view, I assure you. Mr. Sedgwick +has told you that I take a sporting chance of being scragged. I haven't +the slightest ill feeling, but—I want what I want. Have you decided, +sir?"</p> + +<p>He was scarcely two yards from me, but neither his keen gaze nor the +point of the automatic revolver wandered for a fraction of a second from +me. There was not a single chance to close with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_29" id="pg_29">29</a></span> him. I was considering +ignominious surrender when Miss Wallace saved my face.</p> + +<p>"Can he give you what he hasn't got?" she cried out, her natural courage +and her contempt struggling with her fear for me.</p> + +<p>"So he hasn't it, eh?" There was a silence before he went on: "But it is +in this room somewhere. You have it or he has it. Now, I wonder which?" +He spoke softly, as if to himself, without the least trace of +nervousness or passion. "Yes, that's the riddle. Which of you?"</p> + +<p>His eyes released me long enough to shoot a questioning glance at her, +for from my face he could read nothing.</p> + +<p>"If you have it, Evie, my cousin, you will perhaps desire to turn it +over to me for safe keeping. It will be better, I think."</p> + +<p>"For you or for me?"</p> + +<p>He laughed noiselessly, with the manner peculiar to him of having some +private source of amusement within.</p> + +<p>"Would you shoot me if I didn't agree with you?" she continued.</p> + +<p>"My dear cousin," he reproved. From his air one might have judged him a +pained and loving father.</p> + +<p>"Then what will you do?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_30" id="pg_30">30</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I really think it will be better," he murmured with his strange +smile.</p> + +<p>"And I ask again, better for whom?"</p> + +<p>"For Mr. Sedgwick, my dear," he cut back.</p> + +<p>She was plainly taken aback.</p> + +<p>"But—since he hasn't the paper——"</p> + +<p>"We'll assume he has it. At least he knows where it is."</p> + +<p>His manner dismissed her definitely from the business in hand. "I must +apologize for my brusqueness, Mr. Sedgwick, but I'm sure you'll +understand that with a busy man time is money. Believe me, it is with +great regret I am forced to cut short so promising a career. You're a +man after my own heart. I see quite unusual qualities in you that I +would have found pleasure in cultivating. But I mustn't let my selfish +regret interfere with what is for the good of the greatest number. At +best it's an unsatisfactory world. You're well rid of it. Any last +messages, by the way?"</p> + +<p>He purred out his atrocious mockery as a great cat gifted with speech +might have done while playing with the mouse it meant to destroy.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to make it clear to you what a villain you are—but I despair +of finding words to do justice to the subject. As for your threat, it +is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_31" id="pg_31">31</a></span> absurd. You'd hang, to a certainty, on the testimony of Miss +Wallace."</p> + +<p>He shrugged his broad shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Life is full of risks. We all have to take them, and for my part it +lends a zest. Unfortunately, if you take this risk you will not be in a +position later to realize that your judgment was at fault. That, +however, is your business and not mine," he concluded cheerfully, +lifting his weapon slightly and taking aim.</p> + +<p>"For the last time—— Do you give me the map, or do I give you a pass +to kingdom come?"</p> + +<p>The girl moved forward so that she stood directly between me and the +weapon. She was taking a paper from her hand-bag, but she did not lower +her eyes to direct her hands in their search.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I couldn't make you understand how I despise you—and hate +you! I'd rather be kin to the poorest beggar who sweeps the streets down +there than to you," she flamed, flinging before him a paper.</p> + +<p>Warily he picked it up and glanced at it, still covering me carefully.</p> + +<p>"This is the map, is it?"</p> + +<p>"You may see for yourself," she blazed.</p> + +<p>"It is really very good of you to ask me to keep it for you, Evie. I'll +take good care of it—not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_32" id="pg_32">32</a></span> a doubt of that. It's far better in my hands +than yours, for of course you might be robbed."</p> + +<p>His impudent smile derided her contempt. For me—I wouldn't have faced +that look of hers for twenty maps.</p> + +<p>"We're not through with you yet," I told him.</p> + +<p>In gay reproof he shook a finger at me.</p> + +<p>"Ah! There speaks the lawyer. You'll bring an action, will you?"</p> + +<p>It annoyed me to be playing so poor a part before Miss Wallace.</p> + +<p>"You're an infernal scoundrel!"</p> + +<p>"I could argue you out of that uncharitable opinion if I had time, Mr. +Sedgwick. But I'm devilishly <i>de trop</i>—the superfluous third, you know. +My dear cousin frowns at me. 'Pon my word, I don't blame her. But you'll +excuse me for intruding, won't you? I plead the importance of my +business. And I'm very glad of an excuse for meeting you formally, Mr. +Sedgwick. The occasion has been enjoyable and will, I trust, prove +profitable. I'll not say good-bye—hang me if I do. We'll make it <i>au +revoir</i>. Eh?"</p> + +<p>An imp of malicious deviltry danced in his eyes. It was not necessary to +tell me that he was having a pleasant time. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_33" id="pg_33">33</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>Au revoir</i> be it," I nodded, swallowing my bad temper.</p> + +<p>Once more he gave us his bland smile, a bow of audacious effrontery, +then whipped open the door and was gone.</p> + +<p>It may be guessed he left me in no exultant mood. From the first the +fellow had taken and held the upper hand. I had come through with no +distinction at all and had let him walk off with the booty. But if there +be those who think my spirit small I ask them to remember that a +revolver staring one in the eye is a potent persuader.</p> + +<p>Miss Wallace was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>"You know now why I think him a dreadful man," she said, taking a deep +breath of relief.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment," I excused myself, and ran into the outer office.</p> + +<p>Our office Cerberus was sitting at the gate of entry reading the +enthralling story of "Hal Hiccup, the Boy Demon." From my pocket I +fished one of the few dollars it held.</p> + +<p>"Jimmie, follow that man who has just gone out. Find out where he goes +and whom he meets. If he stops anywhere keep a note of the place."</p> + +<p>The eyes of Young America grew big and round +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_34" id="pg_34">34</a></span> with astonishment, then +lit with ecstatic delight. He was going to be a real detective.</p> + +<p>"The boss?" He jerked a dirty thumb in the direction of the chief clerk.</p> + +<p>"I'll make it right with him. Hurry!"</p> + +<p>"You bet I'll keep a peeper on him," he bragged, reaching for his hat.</p> + +<p>He was gone.</p> + +<p>I returned to my client.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me. I wanted to put a spy on your cousin. If he takes the map to +a safe-deposit vault we ought to know where. And that reminds me—— +What was it you gave him? I thought the map was on my table here?"</p> + +<p>"I gave him a copy of it, one my father took years ago."</p> + +<p>"But had it a corner torn off just like this one?"</p> + +<p>From her hand-bag she drew a scrap of paper. "I was tearing it off just +before I took it out."</p> + +<p>My admiration was genuine enough.</p> + +<p>"You're a cool hand, Miss Wallace. My hat is off to you."</p> + +<p>The color deepened slightly in her cheeks. "That was nothing. I just +happened to think of it."</p> + +<p>"You saved the day, anyhow. He stands only an equal chance with us."</p> + +<p>"But he doesn't. My father purposely made +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_35" id="pg_35">35</a></span> an error in the details in +case the map happened to fall into the wrong hands. And the latitude and +longitude aren't marked."</p> + +<p>I could have shouted my delight.</p> + +<p>"But he has heard the diary read," she added. "In that the right +latitude was given. If he happens to remember——"</p> + +<p>"A hundred to one he doesn't, and even at the worst he's no better off +than we are."</p> + +<p>"Except that he has money and can finance an expedition in search of the +treasure."</p> + +<p>I came to earth as promptly as Darius Green.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! that's true."</p> + +<p>For the humiliating fact was that I had not a hundred dollars with which +to bless myself, having just lost my small inheritance in a wildcat +mining venture.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it would take a lot of money?" she said timidly.</p> + +<p>"Where is the treasure hidden?"</p> + +<p>"On the coast of Panama."</p> + +<p>"Near the canal zone?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. The latitude and the longitude are exactly marked, but I +haven't looked them up."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to outfit a ship here, or make our +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_36" id="pg_36">36</a></span> start from Panama. Yes, +it's going to take money."</p> + +<p>"Then we can't go any farther with it. I have no means," she said +quietly.</p> + +<p>The lawyer in me came reluctantly to the fore.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I ought to advise you to compromise with Captain Bothwell."</p> + +<p>Resolution flashed in the eyes that looked straight into mine.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather lose it all! He wouldn't stick to any bargain he made +because—well, he would use the treasure as a lever to—get something +else he wants."</p> + +<p>The flush in her cheeks told me what else it was he wanted, and my heart +was lifted within me. Bothwell intended to marry her, and she did not +intend that he should. My wishes ran pat with hers.</p> + +<p>"That is final, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Quite. If you don't want to go on with it you can drop out, Mr. +Sedgwick. I thank you for your kindness——"</p> + +<p>"And who's talking of dropping out? I suggested compromise because I +thought I ought, but I'm the pleased man that you won't listen to my +good advice. No, no! I'm in to stay, and here's my hand on it." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_37" id="pg_37">37</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're just spoiling for the fight," she smiled, her little hand in +mine.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and that's a guess which rings the bell. I'll not be satisfied +till I try another fall with Mr. Bothwell."</p> + +<p>"You're a right funny lawyer."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you a secret. My father was an Irish filibuster in Cuba. He +died with his back to a wall when I was five."</p> + +<p>"Then it's in the blood."</p> + +<p>"He had a chance to slip away by leaving his men, but Barry Sedgwick +wasn't the man to take that kind of an opportunity."</p> + +<p>"The dear hero! How proud you must be of him," she said in the softest +of voices.</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"He's the best reference I can give you. Now, Miss Wallace, I'll have to +tell this story—or part of it—before I can interest capital in the +venture. You are willing that I should?"</p> + +<p>"Do whatever you must. It's in your hands."</p> + +<p>"First, we'll make sure of the map, then; and after that you can tell me +the story of Doubloon Spit."</p> + +<p>Together we went to the International Safe Deposit vaults, rented a box, +and put in it the map. Afterward we took a car for Golden Gate Park. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_38" id="pg_38">38</a></span> +There she told me the story, in substance if not in the same words, to +be found in the next two chapters.</p> + +<p>Those who find interest only in the conventional had better read no +farther. For this true tale runs red with the primal emotions of the old +buccaneers. It is a story of love and hate, of heroism and cowardice, of +treasure-trove and piracy on the high seas, of gaping wounds and foul +murder. If this is not to your taste, fall out. My story is not for +you.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_39" id="pg_39">39</a></span> +<a name="CONCERNING_DOUBLOON_SPIT_988" id="CONCERNING_DOUBLOON_SPIT_988"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>CONCERNING DOUBLOON SPIT</h3> +</div> + +<p>Robert Wallace, the father of Evelyn, was not one of the forty-niners, +but he had come to California by way of the Isthmus not very many years +later. Always of an adventurous turn, it was on his fourteenth birthday +that he ran away from his home in Baltimore to become a stowaway on +board a south-bound vessel.</p> + +<p>It was a day of privations, and the boy endured more than his share of +them without complaint. Somehow he got along, knocking about from one +point to another, now at the gold diggings, now on the San Francisco +wharfs, and again as a deck hand on the coasters that plied from port to +port.</p> + +<p>When he was eighteen, but well grown for his age, he fell in with an old +salt named Nat Quinn. Quinn was an old man, close to seventy, a survival +of a type of sailor which even then had all but passed away.</p> + +<p>The sea and the wind had given Quinn a face +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_40" id="pg_40">40</a></span> of wrinkled leather. It was +his custom to wear rings in his ears, to carry a murderous dirk, and to +wrap around his bald head a red bandanna after the fashion of the +buccaneers of old.</p> + +<p>He was a surly old ruffian, quick to take offense, and absolutely +fearless. When the old fellow was in drink it was as much as one's life +was worth to cross his whim.</p> + +<p>Nat Quinn was second mate of the <i>Porto Rico</i> when young Wallace shipped +before the mast at San Francisco for a cruise to Lima. The crew were +probably rough specimens, but there can be no doubt that Quinn hazed +them mercilessly.</p> + +<p>Soon the whole forecastle was simmering with talk about revenge. Off +Guayaquil one night three of the crew found him alone on the deck and +rushed him overboard. The old man was no swimmer. No doubt this would +have been the end of him if young Wallace, hearing his cry for help, had +not dived from the rail and kept him afloat until a boat reached them.</p> + +<p>From that night Nat Quinn took a great fancy to the young man and often +hinted that he was going to make his fortune. He told of hidden +treasure, but never definitely; spoke of a great fortune to be had for +the lifting, and promised Wallace that he should go halves. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_41" id="pg_41">41</a></span></p> + +<p>No doubt he trusted the boy, but the habit of secrecy had grown too +strong easily to be broken. Several times he approached the subject, but +usually sheered off before he had gone far. Of shrugs and winks he +offered plenty, enough to keep the youngster tantalized almost beyond +endurance. Nor was it possible to force his confidence, for he was of a +surly, taciturn disposition, given to brooding suspicions.</p> + +<p>But at last the story came out. Quinn had been in his early days a +seaman on board the ship <i>Mary Ann</i> of Bristol, which in the year 1817 +was wrecked off the coast of Peru and cast upon the rocks. Most of the +crew were saved, including the captain, one Thomas Rogers, the first +mate, "Bully" Evans, and the boatswain, Pablo Lobardi, a quarrelsome +fellow with whom Quinn had had a difficulty.</p> + +<p>The rescued seamen were treated with the greatest kindness by the +simple-hearted natives. To Cerro Blanco, the nearest town, they were +taken and given work. Most of them found employment in the rich mines of +the neighborhood, pending the arrival of some ship to take them back to +Europe.</p> + +<p>Lobardi was the only one of the crew who could talk Spanish, so that in +his capacity of interpreter he acquired much influence with the men. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_42" id="pg_42">42</a></span> It +was he that hatched the vile plot to rob the mines, loot the rich +churches and the banks of Cerro Blanco, and make their escape on the +ship which put in twice a year to carry the gold to Lima.</p> + +<p>It looked a desperate enough adventure, this plan to seize an armed +transport and escape with a great treasure, but these ruffians were the +very men to carry through such an attempt. In its apparent hopelessness +lay one prime factor of success, for none could expect a score of +unarmed men to try so forlorn a hope. The transport carried twice as +many soldiers, and these could call upon the town for aid in case of +need.</p> + +<p>Everything went as well for the rascally buccaneers as they could +desire. As the treasure wagons from the mines filed through a narrow +gorge the sailors fell upon them. By means of three stolen rifles they +drove away the guard. In their wild flight for safety the men who +composed this body flung away their weapons in panic.</p> + +<p>Bully Evans, captain in fact though not in name, now had eleven rifles +and three pistols to distribute among his men. Leaving an escort with +the gold, he pushed to Cerro Blanco with the main body of robbers. At +the outskirts of the town he again divided his forces. One party +hastened to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_43" id="pg_43">43</a></span> banks and another looted the cathedral. Within an hour +the town had been stripped clean of its gold and jewels and the +scoundrels had again joined forces at the wharves. Only the need of +absolute silence saved the town from a carnival of fire and murder.</p> + +<p>It was by this time in the small hours of a dark, moonless night. The +pirates loaded the treasure into boats and pulled quietly for the <i>Santa +Theresa</i>, a transport which lay like a black hulk in the harbor.</p> + +<p>The first boat was challenged by a sentinel on board, but Lobardi gave +the countersign which they had forced from the leader of the treasure +convoy.</p> + +<p>"<i>Muy bien</i>," answered the sentry, and he at once moved away to call the +captain of the marines.</p> + +<p>As that officer came sleepily to the deck a half dozen figures swarmed +over the side of the ship. He gave a cry, the last he ever uttered. A +knife hurtling through the dark was buried to the hilt in his throat. +Simultaneously one of the men on guard let out his death shriek and the +other fled down the hatchway to the quarters of the men.</p> + +<p>The first rush of the troopers to the deck was met by a volley that +mowed them down. Before +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_44" id="pg_44">44</a></span> they could recover, the pirates were upon them +with cutlases. Taken by surprise, hemmed in by the narrow hatchway, the +soldiers made a poor defense. Some were pursued and cut down, others +escaped by swimming to the wharves. Those who surrendered were flung +into a boat and ordered ashore.</p> + +<p>Captain Rogers worked the brig out of the harbor and set her nose to the +north. There was need of haste, for the ship's consort was expected in a +day or two. That there would be a pursuit nobody doubted.</p> + +<p>Now occurred a state of affairs to be accounted the most strange were it +not the most natural in the world. While the plot had been fomenting, +and during its execution, these scurvy fellows had been of one mind, +amenable to discipline, and entirely loyal to each other.</p> + +<p>The thing had been in the wind a month, yet not one of them had breathed +a word in betrayal. But no sooner had they won success than dissensions +broke out. They were jealous of their officers, suspicious of each +other.</p> + +<p>Men whispered together in corners, and others scowled at them in +distrust. They grew unruly, were soon ripe for mutiny.</p> + +<p>To make matters worse, the wines and liquors +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_45" id="pg_45">45</a></span> aboard were made too free. +It was not long before the cutthroats were in a debauch that threatened +to last as long as the rum. Fights grew frequent. Within a week one man +was buried and another lay in his bunk cut to ribbons.</p> + +<p>At this juncture Rogers, Evans, and Lobardi put their heads together and +quietly dumped overboard the liquor supply. Captain Rogers was the +ablest seaman among the officers, and he it was that worked the brig. +But Bully Evans was the real leader of the pirates. He was a big man, of +tremendous vitality and strength, and he ruled like a czar, hazing his +men into submission by sheer brutality.</p> + +<p>One specimen of his methods must serve to illustrate a week of battle, +every hour filled with disorder. The brig <i>Truxillo</i>, consort of the +<i>Santa Theresa</i>, had appeared in the offing one morning and hung on in +chase with all sail set. All day and night the two ships raced, the one +to escape, the other to capture the pirates.</p> + +<p>Next morning there came up a heavy fog. Orders were given to about ship. +Nothing could have amazed the crew more, and mutiny was instantly in the +air. The malcontents whispered together and sent forward a committee of +three to voice their refusal to comply with the order. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_46" id="pg_46">46</a></span></p> + +<p>Before a dozen words had been spoken Evans stepped forward and flung the +spokesman from the quarterdeck. While the other two hesitated he was +upon them, had cracked their heads together, and hammered them down the +steps to the waist.</p> + +<p>From his belt he whipped two pistols and leveled them at the grumblers.</p> + +<p>"Avast, you lubbers!" he bellowed. "By the powers, I'll learn you to +play horse with Bully Evans! Pipe up your complaint or foot it, you +flabby seacocks what call yourselves gentlemen of fortune! Stow my quid, +but I'll send some of you to feed the fishes if you try to make the +f'c'sle rule the quarterdeck. Come, pipe up!"</p> + +<p>They did not say much of what was in their minds, for he took the words +out of their mouths, berating them for meddlesome fools and explaining +how their sole chance of escaping was to slip past the <i>Truxillo</i> in the +fog and shake off the pursuit. All this he roared with the foulest of +accompanying oaths, treating the crew like dogs so effectively that they +turned tail and gave up without a blow.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the third day after this the <i>Santa Theresa</i> poked her +nose into San Miguel Gulf on the southern coast of Panama. The captain +took her across the gulf into Darien Harbor, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_47" id="pg_47">47</a></span> then followed the southern +branch practically to the head of the bay, at which point he anchored.</p> + +<p>Tired of being confined aboard the ship, the crew were eager to get +ashore. This suited the plans of Evans. As soon as the long boat had +gone with the shore party he packed the treasure in boxes and lowered +them into a boat. Late in the afternoon the tired sailors returned to +the ship.</p> + +<p>Evans ordered the boatswain to pipe all hands on deck. To the assembled +crew he made a speech, pointing out the need of getting the treasure to +some safer place than aboard a ship which might any day fall into the +hands of the enemy. He intended, he said, to take three men with him and +bury the chests on the sand spit within sight of them all.</p> + +<p>But at this proposal the men broke into flat rebellion. Not one of them +was willing to trust the gold out of his reach. Things in fact had come +to such a pass that, though there was plenty for all, each was plotting +how he might increase his share by robbing his neighbor.</p> + +<p>Evans had made his preparations. The officers, Lobardi, Quinn, and two +other sailors who sided with the chief villains were grouped together, +all of them heavily armed. In the struggle that followed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_48" id="pg_48">48</a></span> the victory +lay with the organized party. The mutineers were defeated and disarmed.</p> + +<p>Evans selected Quinn, Lobardi, and a sailor named Wall to go with him +ashore to bury the gold. Those on board watched the boat pull away with +the gold that had cost so many lives. To the fury and amazement of all +of them the boat rounded a point of land and disappeared from sight.</p> + +<p>Evans had broken his agreement to bury the treasure in the sight of all. +Even Captain Rogers joined in the imprecations of the men. He ordered +the long boat lowered for a pursuit, but hardly had this started when a +shot plumped into the water in front of it.</p> + +<p>Unobserved in the excitement, the <i>Truxillo</i> had slipped into the bay. +Its second shot fell short, its third wide, but the fourth caught the +boat amidship and crumpled it as the tap of a spoon does an empty +eggshell. Of the eight men aboard two were killed outright and the rest +thrown into the sea. One of them—a man named Bucks, as we were to learn +in a most surprising way—clung to the wreckage and succeeded in +reaching shore. The rest were drowned or fell a prey to sharks.</p> + +<p>The long boat disposed of, the <i>Truxillo</i> turned her guns upon the +<i>Santa Theresa</i>. Those left on board made a desperate defense, but the +captain, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_49" id="pg_49">49</a></span> seeing that escape was impossible, chose to blow up the ship +rather than be hanged as a pirate from the yardarm.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the boat with the treasure, which had rounded the point +before the <i>Truxillo</i> had appeared, had been beached on the spit and the +chests dragged ashore. Evans was burying the boxes when the first shot +of the <i>Truxillo</i> fell upon his ears. Naturally he concluded that it was +from the <i>Santa Theresa</i> as a warning of what he might expect.</p> + +<p>Bully Evans showed his yellow teeth in a grin.</p> + +<p>"Compliments of the old man," he said, no whit disturbed at his double +treachery.</p> + +<p>But at the sound of the final explosion the desperadoes looked at each +other.</p> + +<p>They ran to the nearest hill and saw the destruction of their +companions.</p> + +<p>The Portuguese boatswain was the first to recover.</p> + +<p>"There ees now fewer to share," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.</p> + +<p>Evans looked at Quinn and gave a signal. The double murder was done with +knives. Where there had been four, now only two remained.</p> + +<p>Evans and Quinn finished burying the treasure and removed all trace of +their work. A map was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_50" id="pg_50">50</a></span> drawn by Quinn, showing the exact location of the +cache. The murderers slipped back to their boat and, under cover of +darkness, crept up the harbor till they came to the mouth of a large +river. Up this they pulled and disappeared into the interior. Neither of +them was aware that Bucks had seen the treacherous killing and the +disposal of the treasure.</p> + +<p>Six weeks later a living skeleton crawled out of the fever-laden swamps +of Panama and staggered down to a little village on the Gulf of Uraba. +The man was Nat Quinn. He had followed the Rio Tuyra, zigzagged across +the Isthmus, and reached the northern coast.</p> + +<p>Somewhere in the dark tangle of forest behind him, where daylight never +penetrates the thick tropical growth, lay the body of Bully Evans. It +was lying face down in the underbrush, a little round hole in the back +of the head. Quinn's treachery had anticipated that of the mate.</p> + +<p>As the survivor lurched down to the settlement his voice rose in a high +cackle of delirious song. These were the words of his chant:</p> + +<p style='margin-left:2em'> +It's bully boys, ho! and a deck splashed red—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The devil is paid, quo' he, quo' he,</span><br /> +A knife in the back and a mate swift sped!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Heave yo ho! and away with me.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_51" id="pg_51">51</a></span> +<a name="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_SECRET_1272" id="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_SECRET_1272"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>THE MAN WITH THE SECRET</h3> +</div> + +<p>This was the terrible story old Cap Nat, as he was commonly called, told +to Robert Wallace one night in a grog shop at San Francisco nearly forty +years after the events had taken place. Only one point he omitted—the +fact that Bucks had escaped from the long boat and witnessed the caching +of the plunder—and this only because he was not aware of it.</p> + +<p>During all those forty years Quinn had kept it as a fixed purpose to +return to the scene of his crime and possess himself of the wealth he +had lost his soul to gain.</p> + +<p>But to outfit an expedition of the necessary proportions took much +money. On this rock the man's purpose had always split. Periodically he +was a hard drinker. He would live hard and close for a year, saving +every cent he could, and then spend the whole amount in one grand +debauch.</p> + +<p>Had he been willing to confide his story to some capitalist of +California it is likely he might have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_52" id="pg_52">52</a></span> raised the needed funds, but the +nature of the man was both suspicious and secretive and he had guarded +his knowledge all these years with jealousy.</p> + +<p>Wallace was acquainted with the owner and master of a tramp schooner +which had a doubtful reputation along the water front. Jim Slack had +been an opium smuggler and was watched so closely by the revenue +officers that he jumped at the chance of a trip to parts where no +government officials could reach him.</p> + +<p>Cautiously Wallace broached the subject to him, hinting at treasure but +leaving the details dark. He drew a map which was a facsimile of the one +made by Quinn, except that the latitude and longitude were omitted, and +one or two details altered.</p> + +<p>The result was that two weeks later the three men, together with a crew +of five, were beating their way along the coast of Lower California in +the notorious <i>Jennie Slack</i>. A bargain had been struck by which the +owner of the vessel was to get one-third of the gold, out of which share +he was to pay all the expenses of the cruise.</p> + +<p>Each of the three leaders of the expedition was pledged to secrecy, but +before they had been a week out of the Golden Gate Wallace discovered by +accident not only that the crew knew the story, but that they were +implicated with the master of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_53" id="pg_53">53</a></span> boat in a plot to obtain the whole +treasure for themselves.</p> + +<p>He told what he had learned to Quinn under cover of an evening smoke on +deck. The old pirate took it without winking an eyelash, for he could +see Slack and one of his men watching them.</p> + +<p>"Six to two. Long odds, boy," he said, knocking the ashes from his pipe.</p> + +<p>To keep up appearances Bob Wallace laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'm to be got rid of just before we land. It is to be made to look like +an accident. You're safe until you have uncovered the treasure. Then +it's good-by Cap Nat, too."</p> + +<p>Quinn's laugh rang loudly, for the old man could play the game with any +of them.</p> + +<p>"We can't go back. If we suggested that the row would begin at once. No, +we must choose our time instead of letting them choose theirs. And we +can't wait too long, because they would see we were taking precautions +against being surprised. We'll strike to-night—and hard."</p> + +<p>No doubt Cap Nat was right in his strategy, but the scruples of the +boy's conscience lost them the advantage of a sudden attack. He would +fight to save his life, but he would not take advantage of his enemies.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it would be nearer the truth to say that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_54" id="pg_54">54</a></span> he could not. +Something stuck in his throat at the thought of falling upon men +unexpectedly and dealing murder broadcast. Nor could the arguments of +the old man shake him.</p> + +<p>Dreadfully frightened though he was, the boy stuck doggedly to his +position. He would die before he would do such a thing. And indeed he +counted himself as no better than dead.</p> + +<p>The two shared the same cabin, so that they were able to see each other +alone several times during the day. Neither of them went out without +being armed with a brace of pistols and a dirk, though these they kept +hidden under their rough coats.</p> + +<p>During Slack's watch that evening Quinn and his friend made their final +preparation for defense. The captain's cabin was larger than theirs, and +offered better points of defense. Furthermore, here were kept the arms +and the ammunition of the ship. Quinn volunteered to get food and water +into it while Wallace held the cabin.</p> + +<p>Three trips were made by the old salt to the cook's gallery. The first +time he brought back a keg of water, the second time a large tin into +which he had crammed a varied assortment of food. It was while he was +away on the third journey that a scream rang out in the stillness. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_55" id="pg_55">55</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy heard a rush of feet, followed by a shot. Bob ran out of the +cabin toward the galley. Up the steps from the lower deck came Quinn, +blood streaming from his head. In one hand he carried a knife, in the +other a copper kettle full of beans still steaming.</p> + +<p>"Back, lad, back! Hell's broke loose," the old man cried.</p> + +<p>"What happened? Are you badly hurt?"</p> + +<p>"I killed cookie. Caught me in the galley and I knifed him," panted the +old man.</p> + +<p>A bullet whistled past. Wallace turned, caught sight of Slack's head +above the hatchway, and fired. The head disappeared. A few moments and +they were safe in the cabin.</p> + +<p>"You are wounded," Bob cried.</p> + +<p>Quinn shrugged.</p> + +<p>"A bullet grazed my head. Get ready for them. Never mind me."</p> + +<p>He tied a bandanna over the wound while the young man arranged on the +bunk cutlases, their spare pistol, and the musket.</p> + +<p>Slack was the first of the enemy to appear. He carried with him a white +napkin for a flag. Ostensibly he had come to find out the cause of this +outbreak, really to learn how well prepared the defenders were. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_56" id="pg_56">56</a></span></p> + +<p>Cap Nat sent him to the right about briskly. "Get out, traitor! Step +lively now, or I'll pepper you!"</p> + +<p>From his breast Slack whipped a pistol and fired at the bald head of the +old buccaneer. A shot from Wallace rang-out in answer. Slack ran for +cover, but at the stairs waved a derisive gesture.</p> + +<p>For half an hour everything was quiet. Then came the sound of stealthy +whispers and softly padding feet.</p> + +<p>Quinn swung his cutlas to test it.</p> + +<p>"Stand by for a rush. They're coming," he said.</p> + +<p>Almost before he had finished speaking feet pattered swiftly along the +deck. The night was suddenly broken with shouts and curses. The stars +that had been shining through the window were blotted out with smoke.</p> + +<p>The door crashed in and men poured pell-mell through the opening. The +details of what followed were always blurred into a medley of carnage in +the mind of Wallace. He knew that both he and Quinn fired, and that the +cabin filled with smoke.</p> + +<p>Fierce arms gripped him. He hacked into the smoke with his knife. Twice +bodies thudded to the floor. A cutlas slashed his left arm. He was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_57" id="pg_57">57</a></span> +dragged from the cabin to the open deck and found himself struggling +with a red-bearded giant who tossed him about as if he had been a child.</p> + +<p>The fellow had a knife in his belt which he was trying to draw. Robert +fought to the last ounce of strength in him to prevent this. But the +sailor was too strong for him. Inch by inch he went down. The other's +knee drove into his chest, his sinewy hand closed on the lad's throat. +Wallace saw the knife flash and for the moment lost his senses.</p> + +<p>When his eyes opened again the vise at his throat had withdrawn, the +knee on his chest was relaxing. The giant was dropping like a log. Above +him stood Quinn, a ghastly sight, in his hand a streaming cutlas.</p> + +<p>Wallace rose and looked about him. Two men lay huddled in the cabin, a +third was staggering away with both hands clapped to his head. The giant +made four, the cook five. This left only Captain Slack against them.</p> + +<p>"By Heaven, we've beat them," the boy cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, lad, we've beat them," grinned Quinn, leaning heavily against the +door. "But it's Nat's last fight. I've got a bellyful—more than I can +carry. The old man is bound for Davy Jones's locker." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_58" id="pg_58">58</a></span></p> + +<p>Slowly he slid to the deck.</p> + +<p>Robert carried him into the cabin, bleeding from a dozen wounds. He was +badly hacked, and from a gunshot wound in the vitals he was bleeding to +death.</p> + +<p>His comrade forced liquor between his teeth and offered to examine his +wounds. Old Nat waved him aside.</p> + +<p>"No use. I'm for hell." He smiled and began to sing in a quavering voice +the chorus of the grim old buccaneers' song.</p> + +<p style='margin-left:2em;'> +It's bully boys, ho! and a deck splashed red—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The devil is paid, quo' he, quo' he,</span><br /> +A knife in the back and a mate swift sped!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Heave yo ho! and away with me.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>It must have been weird to hear the man, after so wicked and turbulent a +life, troll from ashen lips the godless song of the old seadogs with +whom he had broken all the commandments.</p> + +<p>Only once after this did his mind come back to the present. A few +minutes before the end the old pirate's eyes opened. He tried to whisper +something, but could not. Feebly his hand tapped at something hard above +his heart. Robert took from next the skin a package wrapped in oilcloth. +Quinn's eyes lit. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_59" id="pg_59">59</a></span></p> + +<p>In this was the map of Doubloon Spit.</p> + +<p>Imagine now the situation on this ship of death. Three men only were +left alive, and one of these so badly wounded that he leaped overboard +in madness before morning. Of the remaining two, neither could sleep +without the fear of murder in his heart.</p> + +<p>Two days wore away, one holding the upper and the other the lower deck. +Meanwhile the ship drifted, a derelict on the face of the Pacific.</p> + +<p>At length an agreement was patched up. Slack and Wallace sailed the ship +together, each with one eye on the other. It is certain that neither +slept without locked and bolted doors.</p> + +<p>On the fourth day after truce had been declared, land was sighted. While +it was the boy's watch and the captain was asleep Wallace managed to +lower a boat and paddle to the shore. He had scarcely reached the beach +when a tropical storm swept across the waters. At daybreak the <i>Jennie +Slack</i> was no longer in sight. Neither schooner nor owner was ever seen +again.</p> + +<p>Robert Wallace was picked up several days later by a Mexican +sheepherder. In time he worked his way back to San Francisco. At the +completion of the Union Pacific Railroad he left California for the +South. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_60" id="pg_60">60</a></span></p> + +<p>Here he engaged in business, forsook his vagabond habits, and in course +of time married. No doubt it was always in his mind to have another try +at the treasure, but time slipped away without his doing so. His happy +marriage fettered him. Before he realized it, he was an old man. The +most he could do was to leave the secret for his daughter.</p> + +<p>The package was found by his executor sealed in a safety deposit box. He +left instruction that it was to be opened by his daughter upon her +twenty-first birthday.</p> + +<p>A week before the events told in the first chapter she had reached her +majority. In the presence of Boris Bothwell, whom she had lately met for +the first time, the oilcloth package had been opened.</p> + +<p>He had agreed to finance the expedition to Doubloon Spit and she had +come to San Francisco with her aunt to make the voyage with him. +Meanwhile, letters had reached her from Scotland which made clear the +true character of Bothwell.</p> + +<p>He had attempted twice to get possession of the map. His personal +attention displeased her. They had quarreled, finally, on the morning of +the episode of the second-story window.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_61" id="pg_61">61</a></span> +<a name="WE_FIND_A_SHIP_1528" id="WE_FIND_A_SHIP_1528"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>WE FIND A SHIP</h3> +</div> + +<p>Partly from the diary of Robert Wallace and partly from the lips of his +daughter I gathered the story set down in the two preceding chapters.</p> + +<p>If I have given it with some detail, believe me, it is not because I +care to linger over the shadow of tragedy that from the first hung about +the ill-gathered treasure, but rather that you may understand clearly +the issue facing us.</p> + +<p>Some men would have turned their back upon the adventure and voted the +gold well lost. I wanted to see the thing out to a finish.</p> + +<p>I shall never deny that the personality of her who was to be my partner +in the enterprise had something to do with the decision to which I came. +The low, sweet voice of the Southland, the gay, friendly eyes, the +piquant face, all young, all irresistibly eager and buoyant, would have +won a less emotional man than Jack Sedgwick.</p> + +<p>But why make apologies? After all, every man that lives has his great +adventure, whether it come +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_62" id="pg_62">62</a></span> garbed in drab or radiant with the glow of +the sunrise. A prosaic, money-grubbing age we call this, but by the +gods! romance hammers once in a lifetime at the door of every mother's +son of us. There be those too niggardly to let her in, there be those to +whom the knock comes faintly; and there be a happy few who fling wide +the door and embrace her like a lover.</p> + +<p>For me, I am Irish, as I have said. I cried "Aye!" and shook hands on +the bargain. We would show Captain Boris Bothwell a thing or two. It +would be odds but we would beat him to those chests hidden in the sand.</p> + +<p>This was all very well, but one cannot charter and outfit a ship for a +long cruise upon day-dreams. The moneyed men that I approached smiled +and shook their wise gray heads. To them the whole story was no more +than a castle in Spain. For two days I tramped the streets of San +Francisco and haunted the offices of capitalists without profit to our +enterprise.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of the third I retired, temporarily defeated, to my +club, the Golden Gate. On my salary I had no business belonging to so +expensive a club, but I had inherited from my college days a taste for +good society and I gratified it at the expense of other desires. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_63" id="pg_63">63</a></span></p> + +<p>In the billiard-room I ran across an acquaintance I had met for the +first time on the Valdez trail some years earlier. His name was Samuel +Blythe. By birth he was English, by choice cosmopolitan. Possessed of +more money than he knew what to do with, he spent a great deal of time +exploring unknown corners of the earth. He was as well known at +Hong-Kong and Simla as in Paris and Vienna. Within the week he had +returned to San Francisco, from an attempt to reach the summit of Mount +McKinley.</p> + +<p>He was knocking balls about aimlessly.</p> + +<p>"Shoot you a game of pool, Sedgwick," he proposed.</p> + +<p>Then I had an inspiration.</p> + +<p>"I can give you more fun for your money another way. Come into the +library, Blythe."</p> + +<p>There I told him the whole story. He heard me out without a smile. For +that alone I could have thanked him. When I had finished he looked for a +minute out of the window with a far-away expression in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"It's a queer yarn," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"And of course you don't believe a word of it?" I challenged.</p> + +<p>"Don't I? Let me tell you this, old man. There are a number of rum +things in this old world. I've +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_64" id="pg_64">64</a></span> bucked up against two or three of them. +Let me see your map."</p> + +<p>I had made another copy of it, with the latitude and longitude omitted. +This I handed to him.</p> + +<p>While he examined it his eyes shone.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, this <i>is</i> a lark. You can have the old tub if you want it."</p> + +<p>He was referring to his splendid steam yacht the <i>Argos</i>, in which he +had made the trip to Alaska.</p> + +<p>"I haven't the price to outfit her and pay your crew," I explained.</p> + +<p>"I have. You'll have to let me be your bank. But I say, Sedgwick, you'll +need a sailing master. You're not a seaman."</p> + +<p>Our eyes met.</p> + +<p>"Could Sam Blythe be persuaded to take the place?"</p> + +<p>"Could I?" He got up and wrung my hand. "That's what I wanted you to +say. Of course I'll go—jump at the chance."</p> + +<p>"There's the chance of a nasty row. We're likely to meet Bothwell in +that vicinity. If we do, there will be trouble."</p> + +<p>"So I gather from your description of the gentleman."</p> + +<p>I was delighted. Blythe was not only a good +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_65" id="pg_65">65</a></span> navigator; he was a tried +companion, true as steel, an interesting fellow who had passed through +strange experiences but never used them to impress upon others a sense +of his importance.</p> + +<p>He had served through the Boer and the Spanish-American wars with +distinction. As I looked at him—a spare tall man with a bronzed face of +power, well-shouldered, clear-eyed, and light-footed—I felt he was the +one out of ten thousand for my purpose.</p> + +<p>"Too bad I didn't know a week ago. I've let my crew go. But we can pick +up another. My sailing master Mott is a thoroughly reliable man. He'll +look after the details. My opinion is that we ought to get under way as +soon as possible. That fellow Bothwell is going to crowd on all sail in +his preparations. I take it as a sure thing that he means to have a try +for the treasure."</p> + +<p>"My notion too. He struck me as a man of resource and determination."</p> + +<p>"So much the better. He'll give us a run for our money. My dear fellow, +you've saved my life. I was beginning to get bored to extinction. This +will be a bully picnic."</p> + +<p>"How long will it take you to get the yacht ready?"</p> + +<p>"Give me a week to pick a crew and get supplies +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_66" id="pg_66">66</a></span> aboard. I'll offer a +bonus to get things pushed."</p> + +<p>To see the enthusiasm he put into the adventure did me good after the +three days of disappointment I had endured. I was eager to have him and +Miss Wallace meet, and I got her at once on the telephone and made +arrangements to bring him up after dinner to the private hotel where she +and her aunt were stopping.</p> + +<p>They took to each other at once. Inside of ten minutes we were all +talking about our equipment for the trip.</p> + +<p>"If we have a good run and the proper luck we'll be back to you with the +treasure inside of a month, Miss Wallace," Blythe promised as he rose to +leave.</p> + +<p>"Back to me!" She looked first at him and then at me. "You don't think +that I'm not going, too, do you?"</p> + +<p>It is odd that the point had not come up before, but I had taken it for +granted she would wait in 'Frisco for us.</p> + +<p>"It's hardly a lady's job, I should say," was my smiling answer.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Of course I am going." Sharp decision rang in her voice.</p> + +<p>"It may be dangerous." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_67" id="pg_67">67</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks! Panama is a tourist point of travel these days. Half of +my schoolgirl chums have been there. It's as safe as—Atlantic City."</p> + +<p>"Atlantic City isn't safe if one ventures too far out in the surf," I +reminded her.</p> + +<p>"I'll stick close to the life line," she promised.</p> + +<p>Both Blythe and I were embarrassed. It was of course her right to go if +she insisted. I appealed to her aunt, a plump, amiable lady nearer fifty +than forty.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think, Miss Berry, that it would be better to wait here for +us? There would be discomforts to which you are not used."</p> + +<p>"That is just what Boris told us," Evelyn put in mischievously.</p> + +<p>Miss Berry gave a little shrug of her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd as soon stay here, but Evie will have her way." Her pleasant +smile took from the words any sting they might otherwise have held.</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall. This is a matter of business," Miss Wallace +triumphantly insisted.</p> + +<p>Excitement danced in her eyes. She might put it on commercial grounds if +she liked, but the truth is that the romance of the quest had taken hold +of her even as it had of us. One could not blame her for wanting to go.</p> + +<p>I consulted Sam with my eyes. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_68" id="pg_68">68</a></span></p> + +<p>"I suppose there is no absolute bar to letting the ladies go. There is +room enough on the <i>Argos</i>."</p> + +<p>"There's plenty of room," he admitted.</p> + +<p>After all it was fanciful to suppose that we should run across Bothwell +on the face of the broad Pacific. Why shouldn't they have the pleasure +of a month's yachting? Certainly their presence would make the voyage a +more pleasant one for us.</p> + +<p>"All right. Go if you must, but don't blame me if it turns out to be no +picnic."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Sedgwick. That's just what it is going to be—a nice +long picnic," the girl beamed.</p> + +<p>"Wish I had your beautiful confidence. Have you forgotten Captain +Bothwell? Shall we take him along, too?" I asked with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid he would want all the cake. No, we'll not ask him to our +picnic. He may stay at home."</p> + +<p>"Let's hope he will," Miss Berry contributed cheerfully.</p> + +<p>I don't think she gave the least weight to our fears of Bothwell. In +fact he was rather a favorite of hers.</p> + +<p>"If he comes he'll have to take what is left. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_69" id="pg_69">69</a></span> He understands he's not +invited," Miss Wallace nodded gaily.</p> + +<p>Blythe was fortunately able to secure his sailing master, Mott, and one +of the crew that had sailed with him before, a man named Williams. The +Englishman's valet, Morgan, went as steward. For the rest, we had to be +content with such men as we could get hurriedly together.</p> + +<p>Two brothers named Fleming were secured as engineers, a little cockney +as fat as a prize pig for cook. He answered to the cognomen of 'Arry +'Iggins, though on the ship's register the letter H was the first +initial of both his names. Caine, the boatswain, was a sinister-looking +fellow, but he knew his business. Taken as a whole, the crew appeared to +average well enough.</p> + +<p>From long practice Blythe was an adept at outfitting a yacht for a +cruise. Without going into details I'll only say that we carried very +little that was superfluous and lacked nothing that would tend to +increase our comfort.</p> + +<p>I am no sailor, but it did not take a professional eye to see that the +<i>Argos</i> was a jewel of a boat. Of her seagoing qualities I knew nothing +except by repute, but her equipment throughout was of the best. She was +a three-masted schooner with two funnels, fitted with turbines and +Yarrow +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_70" id="pg_70">70</a></span> boilers. To get eighteen knots out of her was easy, and I have +seen her do twenty in a brisk wind.</p> + +<p>In addition to her main deck the <i>Argos</i> carried a topgallant forecastle +and a bridge, the latter extended on stanchions from the main deck to +the sides of the ship so as to give plenty of space for games or +promenades. The bridge contained a reception and a tea room, which were +connected by a carved stairway with the deck below.</p> + +<p>The rooms of the commander, the cook, and other servants lay well +forward under the bridge. Abaft of these were the kitchen and the +pantry, the dining room, the saloon, and the rooms of the owner and his +guests.</p> + +<p>The conventional phrase "a floating palace" will do well enough to +describe the interior of this turbine yacht. No reasonable man could +have asked more of luxury than was to be found in the well-designed bath +rooms, in the padded library with its shelves of books, its piano and +music rack, and in the smoking room arranged to satisfy the demands of +the most fastidious.</p> + +<p>I had resigned my place with Kester & Wilcox to help push the +preparation for our departure, but I was still spending a good deal of +my time in the office cleaning up some matters upon which I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_71" id="pg_71">71</a></span> had been +working. Much of the time I was down at the docks, and when I could not +be there my thoughts were full of the <i>Argos</i> and her voyage.</p> + +<p>Since I was giving my time to the firm without pay I took the liberty of +using the boy Jimmie to run errands for me. Journeying back and forth to +the wharf with messages and packages, he naturally worked up a feverish +interest in our cruise, even though he did not know the object of it. +When he came out point-blank one morning with a request to go with us as +cabin boy I was not surprised. I sympathized with Master Jimmie's +desire, but I very promptly put the lid on his hopes.</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing, Mr. James A. Garfield Welch."</p> + +<p>"You've gotter have a kid to run errands for youse, Mr. Sedgwick," he +pleaded.</p> + +<p>"No use talking, Jimmie. You're not going."</p> + +<p>"All right," he acquiesced meekly.</p> + +<p>Too meekly, it occurred to me later.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_72" id="pg_72">72</a></span> +<a name="THE_MISSING_CORNER_1817" id="THE_MISSING_CORNER_1817"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE MISSING CORNER</h3> +</div> + +<p>Blythe and I had agreed that Bothwell would not let us get away without +first making an effort to get hold of the original map of Doubloon Spit. +He was nobody's fool, and there was no doubt but he had very soon +detected the trick his cousin had played upon him.</p> + +<p>Since the chart was in a safety-deposit vault we felt pretty sure of +ourselves, for he would have to secure it between the time we took it +out and our arrival on the <i>Argos</i>, at best a spare half hour in the +middle of the day. But since the captain did not know what we had done +with the document, it was a good guess that he would have a try at +searching for it.</p> + +<p>On the evening of the third day before we were due to sail, Blythe and I +took Miss Berry and her niece to the opera and afterward to a little +supper at a cozy French restaurant just round the corner from the +Chronicle Building.</p> + +<p>It was well past midnight when we reached the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_73" id="pg_73">73</a></span> hotel where the ladies +had their rooms. Miss Wallace had no sooner flung open the door than she +gave an exclamation of amazement.</p> + +<p>The room had been fairly turned upside down. Drawers had been emptied, +searched, and their contents dumped down in one corner. Rugs had been +torn up. Even the upholstery of chairs and the lounge had been ripped. +The inner room was in the same condition. A thorough, systematic +examination had been made of every square inch of the apartment. It had +been carried so far that the linings of gowns had been cut away and the +trimming of hats plucked off.</p> + +<p>"A burglar!" gasped Miss Berry.</p> + +<p>"Let's give him a name. Will Captain Boris Bothwell do?" I asked of +Blythe.</p> + +<p>The Englishman nodded.</p> + +<p>"You've rung the bell at the first shot, Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't think it," Miss Berry protested. "Captain Bothwell is too +much of a gentleman to destroy a lady's things wantonly. Just look at +this hat!"</p> + +<p>Evelyn laughed at her wail. It happened not to be her hat.</p> + +<p>"It's dear Boris, all right. I wonder if he left his card?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_74" id="pg_74">74</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shall we call in the police?" her aunt asked.</p> + +<p>Miss Wallace questioned me with her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Might as well," I assented. "Not that it will make a bit of difference, +but it will satisfy the hotel people. Probably it would be as well not +to mention our suspicions."</p> + +<p>So we had the police in. They talked and took notes and asked questions, +and at last went away with the omniscient air peculiar to officers of +the law the world over. They had decided it was the work of Nifty Jim, a +notorious diamond thief at that time honoring San Francisco with his +presence.</p> + +<p>Over a cigar in my rooms Blythe and I talked the matter out. Bothwell +had made the first move. Soon he would make another, for of course he +would search my place at the Graymount. The question was whether to keep +the rooms guarded or to let him have a clear field. We decided on the +latter.</p> + +<p>"How far will the man go? That's the question." My friend looked at his +cigar tip speculatively. "Will he have you knocked on the head to see if +you are carrying it?"</p> + +<p>"He will if he can," I told him promptly. "But I'm taking no chances. I +carry a revolver." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_75" id="pg_75">75</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you happen to notice that we were followed to-night?"</p> + +<p>"That's nothing new. They've been dogging me ever since I got the map. +But I play a pretty careful game."</p> + +<p>"I would," Blythe agreed gravely. "I say. Let me stay with you here till +we get off. Better be sure than sorry."</p> + +<p>"Glad to have you, though I don't think it's necessary."</p> + +<p>It may have been five minutes later that I suddenly sat bolt upright in +my chair. An idea had popped into my head, one so bold that it might +have been borrowed from Bothwell's lawless brain.</p> + +<p>"I say. Let's play this out with Captain Boris his own way. Let's just +remind him we're on earth too."</p> + +<p>"Meaning——"</p> + +<p>My eyes danced.</p> + +<p>"I'm as good a burglar as he is, and so are you."</p> + +<p>Blythe waited.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't give a tinker's dam for the law," I continued. "Good enough! +We'll take a leaf out of his book. To-morrow night you have an +engagement—to ransack the captain's rooms."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To get that corner of a map he stole from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_76" id="pg_76">76</a></span> his cousin. Part of the +directions for finding the treasure are on it."</p> + +<p>"But Miss Wallace has another copy."</p> + +<p>"An inaccurate one. Her father changed the directions on purpose in case +some one found it."</p> + +<p>Blythe smoked for a minute without answering.</p> + +<p>"You're a devilish cool hand, Sedgwick. I'm a law-abiding citizen +myself."</p> + +<p>"And so am I—when the other fellow will let me. But if a chap hits me +on the head with a bit of scantling I'll not stop to look for a +policeman."</p> + +<p>"Just so. I was about to say that since I'm a law-abiding citizen it's +my duty to take from Bothwell the goods he has stolen. I'm with you to +search his rooms for that paper."</p> + +<p>Underneath his British phlegm I could see that he was as keen on the +thing as Jack Sedgwick. Looking back on it from this distance, it seems +odd that two reputable citizens should have adventured into +housebreaking so gaily as we did.</p> + +<p>But Bothwell had brought it on himself, and both of us were eager to +show him he had some one more formidable than a young woman to deal +with. Moreover, there is something about the very name of buried +treasure that knocks the pins of respectability from under a man. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_77" id="pg_77">77</a></span></p> + +<p>Up to date I had led the normal life of a super-civilized city dweller, +but within a fortnight I was to shoot a man down and count it just part +of the day's work. None of us knows how strong the savage is in us until +we are brought up against life in the raw.</p> + +<p>My trailers followed me about next day as usual, but I chuckled whenever +I saw them. For we were doing a little sleuthing ourselves. I borrowed +Jimmie from the firm and the little gamin kept tab on Bothwell.</p> + +<p>The captain did not leave his room until nearly midday, but as soon as +he had turned the corner next to his hotel, the Argonaut, on the way to +his breakfast-lunch, Jimmie dodged in at the side entrance, slipped up +the stairs and along a corridor, up a second and a third flight by the +back way, down another passage, and stopped at a room numbered 417.</p> + +<p>With him he had a great bunch of keys similar to those used in that +hotel. One after another he tried these, stopping whenever he heard +approaching footsteps to hide the keys under his coat. Several persons +passed, but found nothing unusual in the sight of a boy knocking +innocently on a door.</p> + +<p>At last Jimmie found a key which turned in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_78" id="pg_78">78</a></span> the socket. That was all he +wanted. Relocking the door he went down the stairs to the street, his +fingers tightly clenched around the key that fitted. Nor did he take the +little closed fist out of his coat pocket until he and I were alone +together in my office, from whence he departed two dollars richer than +he had entered.</p> + +<p>Jimmie having been retired from duty, Blythe took his place in watching +Bothwell. He engaged a room on the fourth floor of the Argonaut, from +which he was able to observe the coming and going of the enemy.</p> + +<p>My work at the office finished, I took a car for the Graymount, followed +as usual by one of the detectives that for days had dogged me. My +attendant on this occasion was a shrimp of a man with a very wrinkled +face and a shock of red hair. Some imp of deviltry in me moved me to +change my seat for one beside his.</p> + +<p>"A pleasant day," I suggested to open the conversation.</p> + +<p>He agreed that it was.</p> + +<p>"I suppose your kind of work is always more cheerful in good weather," I +went on.</p> + +<p>"My kind of work!" Plainly he was disconcerted at my remark.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Must be devilish unpleasant shadowing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_79" id="pg_79">79</a></span> a man in cold weather. +Don't you have to wait outside houses sometimes for hours at a stretch?"</p> + +<p>The palm of his hand rasped a stubbly chin as he looked askance at me.</p> + +<p>"Why—er—I don't know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" I laughed in his face. "Come now, let's put aside the +little fiction that I'm not wise to your game. I'm not at all annoyed at +the attentions you pay me. It's entirely a matter of business with you. +I suppose I'm good for about five dollars a day to you. Faith, that's +more than I've ever been able to earn for myself. Sorry I'm leaving +these parts soon—on your account."</p> + +<p>He did not at all know how to take me, but he earnestly assured me that +I was quite mistaken. He was a carpenter by trade.</p> + +<p>"Why not make it as easy for you as we can?" I chuckled. "Come in to the +Graymount and have dinner with me. Our cafe isn't what it should be, but +it will pass at a pinch. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>He said that I was making game of him.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," I assured him. "I'm merely trying to lighten the load of +honest labor. Well, if you won't, you won't. After dinner I'm going to +my rooms to smoke a cigar. About nine—or somewhere near that time—I'll +be going out for an hour. Are your instructions to follow me?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_80" id="pg_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're all wrong about me, sir. I don't know any more than a rabbit +what you are talking about."</p> + +<p>"I was only going to say that if you care to go I'll try to arrange for +another place at our little party."</p> + +<p>He was, I judged, glad to get rid of me at my corner. It had been his +instruction to leave the car there too, no doubt, but my discovery of +him drove the little man one block farther. I waited till he got off and +waved a hand at him before I walked to the Graymount. For me it had been +a very entertaining little adventure, but I am inclined to think he +found it embarrassing.</p> + +<p>The program of my movements which I had given him was accurate enough. +Dinner finished. I went to my room for a cigar, after which I called up +a taxi.</p> + +<p>I selected an ulster with a deep collar, and in the right hand pocket I +dropped a revolver, but not before I had carefully examined the weapon.</p> + +<p>As I stepped into the taxi the vest-pocket edition of Nick Carter with +whom I had ridden up from the city a few hours earlier darted out from +the alley where he had been lurking. Again I waved a hand derisively +toward him. The chauffeur threw in the clutch and we moved swiftly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_81" id="pg_81">81</a></span> down +the hill. The little sleuth wheeled off in the direction of the nearest +drug store.</p> + +<p>"He's going to call up Bothwell to tell him I've gone," was my guess.</p> + +<p>For perhaps a quarter of an hour I had the chauffeur drive me about the +city, now fast, now slow, crossing and recrossing our track half a dozen +times. When I was finally convinced that no other car was following mine +I paid the driver and dismissed him.</p> + +<p>Catching the nearest street car I rode down to Market Street. It was a +cool night, so that I was justified in turning up my coat collar in such +a way as to conceal partially my face.</p> + +<p>Inconspicuously I stepped into the Argonaut and up the stairs to +Blythe's room.</p> + +<p>Sam met me at the door and nodded in the direction of No. 417.</p> + +<p>"He went out half an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet he got a telephone message from little Nick Carter first," I +grinned.</p> + +<p>Three minutes later we were in Bothwell's room. Since it was probable +that he was making himself at home in mine it seemed only fair that we +should do as much in his.</p> + +<p>We did. If there was a nook or corner within those four walls we did not +examine I do not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_82" id="pg_82">82</a></span> know where it could have been. Every drawer was opened +and searched for secret places. Bedposts, legs of chairs and tables, all +the woodwork, had to undergo a microscopic scrutiny. The walls were +sounded for cavities. We probed the cushions with long fine needles and +tore the spreads from the beds. The carpet and the floor underneath were +gone over thoroughly. Blythe even took the frame of the mirror to pieces +to make sure that the shred of paper we wanted did not lie between the +glass and the boards behind.</p> + +<p>At last I found our precious document. It was in the waste-paper basket +among some old bills, a torn letter, some half smoked cigarettes, and a +twisted copy of that afternoon's <i>Call</i>. Bothwell had thrust it down +among this junk because he shrewdly guessed a waste-paper basket the +last place one would likely look for a valuable chart.</p> + +<p>To deprive him of it seemed a pity, so we merely made a copy of what we +wanted and left him the original buried again in the junk where he had +hidden it.</p> + +<p>My watch showed that it was now between one and two o'clock. Since +Bothwell might now be back at any time we retired to Blythe's room and +<i>learned by heart</i> the torn fragment of directions.</p> + +<p>This did not take us long for there was nothing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_83" id="pg_83">83</a></span> on the faded corner but +these letters and words:</p> + +<p style='margin-left:2em;'> +wh<br /> +12<br /> +Take<br /> +Forked<br /> +till Tong of<br /> +west to Big Rock<br /> +</p> + +<p>In the milkman hours we slipped from the hotel and took a car for the +Graymount. My rooms were a sight. Some one—and I could put a name to +him—had devastated them as a cyclone does a town in the middle West. +The wreckage lay everywhere, tossed hither and thither as the searchers +had flung away the articles after an examination. Blythe laughed.</p> + +<p>"The middle name of our friend Bothwell must be thorough. He hasn't +overlooked anything, by Jove."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it's our inning anyhow," I grinned. "He didn't get what he +wanted, and we know it. We did get what we wanted, and he doesn't know +it." The Englishman flung himself down into a Morris chair and reached +for my cigarettes.</p> + +<p>"On the whole I rather fancy our new profession, Jack. I wonder if +Captain Bothwell will send our photographs to the chief of police for +his rogues' gallery."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_84" id="pg_84">84</a></span> +<a name="IN_THE_FOG_2141" id="IN_THE_FOG_2141"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>IN THE FOG</h3> +</div> + +<p>The day before we sailed I spent an hour aboard the <i>Argos</i> arranging my +things in my cabin. While returning in one of the yacht's boats I caught +sight through the fog of two figures standing on the wharf.</p> + +<p>I had a momentary impression that one of these was our chief engineer, +George Fleming, but when I scrambled ashore only one of the two was in +sight. The one I had taken to be our engineer had sheered off into the +fog.</p> + +<p>The outline of the other bulked large in the heavy mist, partly because +of the big overcoat, no doubt. I had a feeling that I ought to know the +man, but it was not until he stepped forward to me that I recognized +him.</p> + +<p>"A pleasant evening if one doesn't object to fog, Mr. Sedgwick," he +said, lifting his hat and bowing.</p> + +<p>"It's you, is it?" I answered, coolly enough.</p> + +<p>"Thought I'd drop down and see how you are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_85" id="pg_85">85</a></span> getting along. The <i>Argos</i> +looks like a good sailor. I congratulate you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks."</p> + +<p>"You sail to-morrow, I understand."</p> + +<p>"Since you know already I'll save myself the trouble of telling you."</p> + +<p>"Sharp work, Mr. Sedgwick. I needed only one good look at you to know +you were a first-class man for this sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"I am delighted that my work pleases Captain Bothwell."</p> + +<p>He passed my irony with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't say it pleased me. I'm after the treasure myself, and I'm +going to get it. But I'm not a fool. I can appreciate even an enemy when +I find him on the job."</p> + +<p>"And of course your appreciation won't keep you from sticking a knife in +him if you find it necessary."</p> + +<p>"Of course not. I said I wasn't a fool," he admitted easily.</p> + +<p>We were standing on the edge of the wharf, shut out from the world by a +fog bank that left us to all intents alone. It was an uncanny place to +meet one's dearest enemy. Faintly I could still hear the splashing of +the oars as the boat that had brought me ashore moved back to the +<i>Argos</i>. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_86" id="pg_86">86</a></span> Otherwise no sound but the lapping of the waves at the piles +broke the silence.</p> + +<p>Our eyes met straight as a plummet falls. Each of us had his right hand +in his overcoat pocket. I can't swear to what was in his fingers, but I +felt a good deal safer for what was in mine. My back was still toward +the bay, for I had a vision of the man who had disappeared—whoever he +might be—slipping up through the white fog and sticking a knife between +my shoulder-blades.</p> + +<p>The captain gave me his friendliest smile.</p> + +<p>"But you needn't be afraid. What would it profit me to get rid of you +here? I don't suppose you have the map with you?"</p> + +<p>At the last words his black eyes stabbed at me a question.</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"No, it wouldn't be worth while murdering me now to get the map. I'm not +a fool either, captain. It isn't on me."</p> + +<p>"So I judged. Then you may make your mind easy—for the present."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure about that. Wouldn't it pay you to put me out of the +road, anyhow? You'll not get the treasure so long as I'm alive, you +know."</p> + +<p>"There you touch my vanity, Mr. Sedgwick. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_87" id="pg_87">87</a></span> I'm of a contrary opinion. +Dead or alive you can't keep me from it."</p> + +<p>"Have you never noticed, captain, that in this world a man's +opportunities do not always match his inclinations?"</p> + +<p>"I've noticed that a man gets what he wants if he is strong enough to +take it."</p> + +<p>"So far as I know you have made four attempts to get the map. Have you +got it?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. Plenty of time though. When I need it I'll get it."</p> + +<p>My skeptical laugh must have annoyed him.</p> + +<p>"Then you'd better get busy if it's true that we sail to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Hope you'll have a pleasant trip."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Sorry we can't ask you, captain. But there really isn't room +and our party is full. No doubt you'll be starting on a little jaunt of +your own soon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow, too, as it happens. Perhaps we may meet again. It's a +small world after all, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>"We'll look out for you."</p> + +<p>"Do. And go prepared for squalls. One never knows what may happen. The +Pacific is treacherous. Likely enough you'll meet dirty weather." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_88" id="pg_88">88</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm thinking you're right. But the yacht is good for it."</p> + +<p>"And the yacht's passengers?" he asked with angled brows.</p> + +<p>"We're all good sailors."</p> + +<p>"But isn't there a good deal of yellow fever in Panama?"</p> + +<p>"Not now. There used to be."</p> + +<p>"Haven't I heard of pirates in the Isthmus country?" he asked, smiling +with superb impudence.</p> + +<p>"That's in the past too, captain; but if we meet any, the vermin will be +glad to sheer off. I'll promise you that."</p> + +<p>The villain drew a breath of mock relief.</p> + +<p>"That makes my mind easier, Mr. Sedgwick. I'll confess I've been a +little troubled for you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for your kind thoughts, but I'm confident we can look out for +ourselves."</p> + +<p>Our words had been light enough, but be sure there was no laughter in +the eyes that fastened each pair to the other. For me, I never was more +vigilant in my life—and Bothwell knew it.</p> + +<p>"Going up-town, captain? If not I'll say good evening."</p> + +<p>He nodded genially.</p> + +<p>"Pleasant voyage. And <i>do</i> be careful of the squalls and the fever and +the pirates. Do you +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_89" id="pg_89">89</a></span> know I can't help thinking you had better leave +Evie at home for me to take care of."</p> + +<p>"But you're leaving, too, I understood you to say. No, we'll take good +care of her. I give you my word on that."</p> + +<p>I had been edging round him with the intention of backing away. He held +out his hand, but—well, my fingers were otherwise engaged. They still +caressed a knobby bit of metal in my overcoat pocket.</p> + +<p>At the last moment, so it appeared, he yielded to an impulse.</p> + +<p>"Must we really be in opposite camps, Mr. Sedgwick? Come! Let's arrange +a compromise. Neither of us alone has enough to go on. You need me and +my scrap of map. I need you and your bit of chart. We'll consolidate +forces and go to Panama together."</p> + +<p>"Afraid you're a little late, captain. You play your hand and we'll play +ours."</p> + +<p>I had been increasing the distance between us. Now I turned sharply on +my heel and walked away almost at a run, for I did not like the idea of +taking with me a bullet in the small of my back.</p> + +<p>At the end of the wharf a figure brushed past me. Night had begun to +fall, and in the gray dusk I could not make sure, but again I was oddly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_90" id="pg_90">90</a></span> +struck by its resemblance to our engineer, Fleming. I slued around my +head to look a second time, but the fog had already swallowed him. +Strange, I thought, that he had not recognized me; but perhaps, if the +man was Fleming, he had found me too indistinct to know.</p> + +<p>At any rate it was a matter of no great importance. I pushed past the +warehouse to take an up-town car.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_91" id="pg_91">91</a></span> +<a name="ABOARD_THE_ARGOS_2326" id="ABOARD_THE_ARGOS_2326"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>ABOARD THE ARGOS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Blythe and I had agreed that an attempt would be made to relieve us of +the map while we were carrying it from the safety-deposit vault to the +ship. So far as we could see it was Bothwell's last chance to gain +possession of the coveted chart, and he was not the man to leave a stone +unturned.</p> + +<p>At half past three we drove in the car of a friend to the International +Safe Deposit Company's place of business. He waited outside while we +went in to reclaim the document.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later we reappeared, the paper in the inside pocket of my +tightly buttoned coat. My eyes explored to right and left.</p> + +<p>The thunder of trolley cars, the rumble of wholesale wagons, the buzz of +automobiles, all made their contribution to the roar of the busy cañon +up and down which men and women passed by hundreds. That Bothwell would +make an attempt at a hold-up here seemed inconceivable. But if not here, +then—where? He had to have the map or give up the fight. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_92" id="pg_92">92</a></span></p> + +<p>Blythe followed me into the tonneau and our car swept out into the +stream of traffic. Less than a quarter of an hour later we stepped down +from the machine, shook hands with our friend, and took the boat which +was waiting for us at the wharf. Even now we were alert, ready for any +emergency that might occur.</p> + +<p>Nothing happened, except our safe arrival at the <i>Argos</i>. Miss Wallace +and her aunt were on deck to welcome us. Sam and I exchanged rather +sheepish glances. Nobody likes to be caught making a mountain out of a +mole hill, and that was apparently what we had done. Our elaborate +preparations to defend the map during the past half hour had been +unnecessary.</p> + +<p>"Tide right, Mr. Mott?" Blythe asked.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll start at once."</p> + +<p>I retired to my cabin, disposed of a certain document, and presently +returned to the deck. The engines were throbbing and the <i>Argos</i> was +beginning to creep.</p> + +<p>"We're off," I said to Miss Wallace, who was standing by my side on the +bridge deck leaning upon the rail.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we're off. Luck with us," she cried softly with shining eyes. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_93" id="pg_93">93</a></span></p> + +<p>I looked at her and smiled. The excitement that burned in her I could +understand, since I too shared it. We were answering the call of the sea +and its romance was tingling in our blood. Into what wild waters we were +to be whirled none of us had the slightest guess. It was fortunate that +the future was screened by a veil behind which we could not peep.</p> + +<p>The quiver of the engines grew stronger. The <i>Argos</i> was walking smartly +out into the bay, her funnels belching black smoke. A stiff wind was +blowing and the vessel leaped as she took the waves. Behind us in the +falling dusk the lights of the city began to come out like stars.</p> + +<p>"I wonder when we'll see her again," my companion said softly, her gaze +on the hill of twinkling lights.</p> + +<p>Like a Winged Victory her fine, lithe figure was outlined by the wind, +which had flung back the white skirt against the slender limbs, showing +the flowing lines as she moved. In her jaunty yachting cap, the heavy +chestnut hair escaping in blowing tendrils, a warmer color whipped into +her soft cheeks by the breeze, there was a sparkle to her gayety, a +champagne tang to her animation. One guessed her an Ionian goddess of +the sea +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_94" id="pg_94">94</a></span> reincarnated in the flesh of a delightful American girl.</p> + +<p>It was this impression on me that gave the impetus to my answer.</p> + +<p>"Not too soon, I hope."</p> + +<p>Miss Berry joined us. I tucked her arm under mine and the three of us +tramped the promenade deck. Mott went down to his dinner and Blythe took +the wheel. My friend was an experienced sailor, and he had that dash of +daring which somehow never results in disaster. We could see the men +scurrying to and fro at his orders. The white sails began to belly out +with the whistling wind.</p> + +<p>Blythe roared an order down the speaking tube and swung round the spokes +of the wheel. Straight toward the Golden Gate we sprang, bowling along +with increasing speed. Past Tamalpais we scudded and through the +narrows, out to the fresh Pacific like a bloodhound taking the scent.</p> + +<p>"By the way she's going the <i>Argos</i> smells treasure at our journey's +end," I laughed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I like this! Isn't it glorious?" the girl murmured.</p> + +<p>"You come of sailor blood," I reminded her. "Many a girl would be in the +hands of the ship's doctor already."</p> + +<p>"Didn't know we had a doctor on board." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_95" id="pg_95">95</a></span></p> + +<p>"Morgan will have to serve in lieu of one. But there goes the dinner +gong. We must go and get ready."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," she sighed regretfully. "But it's a pity to miss a +moment of this. Do you see that glow on the water? Is that why it's +called the Golden Gate?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy the argonauts called it that because it was the passage through +which they passed on their way to the gold fields. And for the same +reason we can give it that name too."</p> + +<p>We moved to the stairway, which was in the pavilion, and descended to +our rooms on the main deck.</p> + +<p>As soon as I had entered mine I switched on the light and threw off my +coat. Collar and tie followed the coat into the berth. I passed into the +bath room and washed. At the moment I flung the towel back on the rack a +sound came to me from my bedroom. I turned quickly, to see a diminutive +figure roll from the back of the bed and untangle itself from my coat.</p> + +<p>"Please, I'm awful sick, Mr. Sedgwick," a voice lugubriously groaned.</p> + +<p>I stood staring at the little yellow face. The forlorn urchin was our +office boy, Jimmie Welch. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_96" id="pg_96">96</a></span></p> + +<p>"You young cub, what are you doing here?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"I'm a stowaway," he groaned. "Like Hall Hiccup, the Boy Pirate, you +know. But, by crickey, I wouldn't a come if I'd a known it would be like +this."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you that you couldn't come? How did you get here?"</p> + +<p>"Golly, I'm sick! I'm going to die."</p> + +<p>"Serves you right, you young rascal."</p> + +<p>I didn't blow him up any more just then. Instead I hurriedly offered +first aid to the seasick. He felt a little better after that.</p> + +<p>"I told Mr. Mott you had sent me on an errand. He thought I'd gone +ashore again, mebbe."</p> + +<p>"That's where you'll go as soon as we reach San Pedro."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Hope so." He groaned woefully. "Thought you'd need a cabin +boy, sir, but I'll never do it again, s'elp me."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to give you a licking as soon as you get well. Don't forget +that. Now I have to leave you. I'll be back after a while. Go to sleep +if you can."</p> + +<p>By reason of Jimmie I reached the dinner table as the soup was being +removed. Only four of us messed in the cabin. Mott, the engineers, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_97" id="pg_97">97</a></span> and +Morgan had a separate table of their own aft.</p> + +<p>"Late already, my boy. This won't do. Ship's discipline, you know. Make +a report and clear yourself," Blythe called out as I entered.</p> + +<p>"My patient seems a bit better," I announced, sitting down opposite Miss +Wallace.</p> + +<p>"Your patient?" that young woman repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I find I have a guest to share my cabin with me, and he has begun +by yielding to an attack of <i>mal-de-mer</i>."</p> + +<p>"Is this a conundrum? I'm not good at them." This from Miss Berry.</p> + +<p>"No, it's a stowaway. The conundrum is to know what to do with the +little rascal."</p> + +<p>"Meaning who?"</p> + +<p>"James A. Garfield Welch. I found him tucked away in my berth, very much +the worse for wear."</p> + +<p>The Englishman helped himself to asparagus tips and laughed.</p> + +<p>"He's certainly a persevering young beggar. He hung around me for three +days trying to persuade me to take him. Now he's here on French leave."</p> + +<p>"He'll have to make himself useful, now he's here. The little idiot +imagines himself a sort of boy pirate, so he explained to me. I'm going +to try to introduce a little sense into his system by means of a strap +applied to the cuticle." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_98" id="pg_98">98</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't," Evelyn begged quickly. "Poor fellow! I daresay he +wanted to come as badly as we did."</p> + +<p>"He happens to have a mother," I added dryly. "She's no doubt worrying +her life out about the young pirate. I really think we owe him a licking +on her account."</p> + +<p>"Poor woman! She must be feeling dreadfully. Isn't there any way of +letting her know that he is safe?" Miss Berry asked.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to call in at San Pedro, though that means the loss of a +day. We can send the youngster home from Los Angeles," Blythe suggested.</p> + +<p>"If his mother is willing, Jimmie might go on with us. He would be +useful to run errands," Evelyn proposed.</p> + +<p>"Jimmie has a staunch friend in you, Miss Wallace. We'll think it over. +There's plenty of time before we reach Los Angeles," our captain +answered. "He can take the upper berth in the cook's cabin. Have him +moved after dinner, Morgan."</p> + +<p>We lingered after dinner till the second dog watch was over, when Blythe +excused himself to go on deck. I soon followed him, for though I am no +sailor I was rated as second officer on the <i>Argos</i>, Mott being the +first.</p> + +<p>I had not yet had a good view of the crew and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_99" id="pg_99">99</a></span> I looked them over +carefully as Blythe divided them in watches. They appeared a lively +enough lot, though it struck me that one or two showed sullen faces.</p> + +<p>Caine, the boatswain, was a villainous looking fellow, due in part to +the squint of his eyes that set them at different angles. But he turned +out a thoroughly capable man with a knack of getting out of the men all +that was in them.</p> + +<p>Under Mott's supervision I took a turn at the wheel, for I did not +intend, if I could help it, to be deadwood throughout the whole cruise. +I could see Miss Wallace pacing the deck with Blythe for hours, his +cigar tip glowing in the darkness as they advanced toward the wheel +house. I would have liked to join them, but I had set out to make of +myself enough of a sailor to serve at a pinch, and I stuck to my task. +It was late when I reached my cabin. I must have fallen asleep at once, +for it was day again before I knew anything more.</p> + +<p>We met at breakfast, the four of us, and not one but was touched by the +loveliness of which we were the center. It was not a new story to +Blythe—this blue arched roof of sky, this broad stretch of sea, this +warm sun on a day cool enough to invigorate the blood—but he too showed +a lively pleasure in it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_100" id="pg_100">100</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Berry took some fancy work and a magazine with her on deck and +spent the morning placidly in a steamer chair, but her niece and I were +too full of our pleasure to rest so contentedly.</p> + +<p>To any who have sailed on the glassy breast of the Pacific day after +day, knowing all the little pleasures of life aboard a well-found +turbine yacht, a description would be superfluous; to one who has never +known it, such an attempt would be entirely futile. By either +alternative I am debarred from trying to set down the delight of our +days, the glory of our nights of stars.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_101" id="pg_101">101</a></span> +<a name="BOTHWELL_MAKES_A_MOVE_2579" id="BOTHWELL_MAKES_A_MOVE_2579"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>BOTHWELL MAKES A MOVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>We put into San Pedro in the early morning and tied up opposite the +<i>Harvard</i>. Blythe and I ran up to Los Angeles on the electric, taking +Jimmie Welch with us.</p> + +<p>No matter how well one may be equipped for an expedition, every port +touched finds needs to be satisfied. After I had wired Mrs. Welch that +her hopeful was safe and would be returned to her or retained as ship's +boy at her desire, I spent the morning executing commissions for the +ladies and attending to little matters that needed looking after.</p> + +<p>We made an appointment to lunch at one of Los Angeles' numberless +cafeterias. I went out of my way to the telegraph office to get the +answer from Mrs. Welch, for which reason I was a few minutes late to +luncheon.</p> + +<p>A stranger to me was sitting opposite Blythe. My friend introduced him +as Mr. Yeager, known all over Arizona as Tom Yeager. It appeared that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_102" id="pg_102">102</a></span> +he had come to the coast with a couple of carloads of steers, having +disposed of which, time was hanging heavy on his hands.</p> + +<p>Anybody who has lived in the cattle country knows the Yeager type. He +was a brown, lithe man, all sinew, bone and muscle. His manner was easy +and indifferent, but out of his hard face cool, quiet eyes judged men +and situations competently.</p> + +<p>Over many straight and crooked trails his thirty-five years had brought +him without shame. No doubt he had often skirted the edge of law, but +even when he had been a scamp his footsteps had followed ways justified +by his code.</p> + +<p>I gathered from their talk that Blythe and he had served together in the +Rough Riders during the Spanish War. They were exchanging reminiscences +and Jimmie Welch was listening open-mouthed to their conversation.</p> + +<p>"Say, ain't he a peacherino, Mr. Sedgwick," whispered my young hopeful. +"Get onto those muscles of his. I'll bet he's got a kick like a mule in +either mitt. Say, him and Teddy Roosevelt must 'a' made the dagoes sick +down in Cuba."</p> + +<p>More jokes and stories of camp life passed back and forth.</p> + +<p>"Do you reckon he ever killed a Spaniard?" Jimmie murmured to me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_103" id="pg_103">103</a></span></p> + +<p>"Better ask him," I suggested.</p> + +<p>But at thought of this audacity to his hero the young pirate collapsed. +I put the question for him.</p> + +<p>The cowman grinned.</p> + +<p>"Only one, Jimmie. And he ain't all mine. Me and a fellow called the +Honorable Samuel Blythe was out scouting one day while we were pushing +through the tangle of brush toward Santiago. I reckon we got too +anxious. Anyhow, we bumped into an ambush and it was a swift hike for us +back to the lines. The bullets were fair raining through the leaves +above us. Recollect, Sam?"</p> + +<p>Blythe nodded.</p> + +<p>"Rather. Whenever I think of it pins and needles run down my back."</p> + +<p>"Well, we cut a blue streak for camp, those fellows after us on the +jump. I used to think I was some runner, but the Honorable Samuel set me +right that day. He led good and strong, me burning the wind behind and +'steen Spaniards spread out in the rear. A fat little cuss was leading +them, and the way he plowed through that underbrush was a caution. You +want to remember, Jimmie, that the thermometer was about a hundred and +fifty in the shade. I went till I was fit to drop, then looked round and +saw Don Fatty right close. I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_104" id="pg_104">104</a></span> hadn't invited him to my party, so I +cracked away at him with my gun."</p> + +<p>"And you killed him," Jimmie breathed, his eyes popping out.</p> + +<p>"Killed nothing," answered the Arizonian in disgust. "I missed him a +mile, but he was so plumb discouraged with the heat and with running his +laigs off that he up and laid down and handed in his checks. He's the +only Spaniard I've got to my credit and Mr. Blythe here always claimed +half of him because he ran faster."</p> + +<p>"You're kidding me," announced Jimmie promptly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've always had a kind a suspicion myself that mebbe he had just +fainted. But I like to figure it out that I destroyed one of my +country's enemies that day, with a leetle help from my friend here."</p> + +<p>While Yeager was joyously fabricating this yarn Blythe had been writing +on the back of an envelope. This he now shoved quietly across to me.</p> + +<p class='blockquot'> +He's as well-plucked as they make them, Jack—and straight as a +string. Want to make him a proposition to join us? +</p> + +<p>Those were the lines he had penciled on the envelope. Beneath them I +wrote two words: "Suits me." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_105" id="pg_105">105</a></span></p> + +<p>Jimmie's mother had consented to let him go on with us. Now I took him +away to get some necessary wearing apparel, leaving Blythe to make a +proposition to Yeager.</p> + +<p>"Your mother says I'm in full charge of you. That means I'm to lick you +whenever you need it," I told Jimmie, for I had already discovered that +my young sleuth needed considerable repressing from time to time.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I'll do whatever you say," agreed Young America, who was long +since over his seasickness and was again eager for the voyage.</p> + +<p>The Englishman nodded when I saw him an hour later.</p> + +<p>"Tom's in with us."</p> + +<p>"He understands this ain't a pleasure excursion, doesn't he?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Folks take their pleasure different, Mr. Sedgwick," drawled the cowman. +"I shouldn't wonder but I might enjoy this little cruise even if it gets +lively."</p> + +<p>"My opinion is that it may get as lively as one of your own broncos," I +explained.</p> + +<p>"I'll certainly hope for the worst," he commented.</p> + +<p>I turned Jimmie over to my friends and spent the afternoon with a +college classmate who was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_106" id="pg_106">106</a></span> doing newspaper work on the <i>Herald</i>. In +looking up a third man who also had belonged to our fraternity, time +slipped away faster than we had noticed. It was getting along toward +sunset when I separated from my friends to take the interurban for San +Pedro at the big electric station. Before my car reached the port, dusk +was falling.</p> + +<p>Whistling as I went, I walked briskly down the hill toward the wharf. As +I passed an alley my name was called. I stopped in my stride and turned. +Then a jagged bolt of fire seared my brain. My knees sagged. I groped in +the darkness, staggering as I moved. About that time I must have lost +consciousness.</p> + +<p>When I came to myself I was lying in the alley and a man was going +through my clothes. A second man directed him from behind a revolver +leveled at my head. Both of them were masked.</p> + +<p>"I tell you it ain't on him," the first man was saying.</p> + +<p>"We want to make dead sure of that, mate," the other answered.</p> + +<p>"If he's got it the damned thing is sewed beneath his skin," retorted +the first speaker.</p> + +<p>"He's coming to. We'll take his papers and his pocketbook and set sail," +the leader decided.</p> + +<p>I could hear their retreating footsteps echo down +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_107" id="pg_107">107</a></span> the alley and was +quite sensible of the situation without being able to rise, or even cry +out. For five minutes perhaps I lay there before I was sufficiently +master of myself to get up. This I did very uncertainly, a little at a +time, for my head was still spinning like a top. Putting my hand to the +back of it I was surprised to discover that my palm was red with blood.</p> + +<p>As I staggered down to the wharf I dare say the few people who met me +concluded I was a drunken sailor. The <i>Argos</i> was lying at the opposite +side of the slip, but two of our men were waiting for me with a boat. +One of them was the boatswain Caine, the other a deckhand by the name of +Johnson.</p> + +<p>"Split me, but Mr. Sedgwick has been hurt. What is it, sir? Did you +fall?" the boatswain asked.</p> + +<p>"Waylaid and knocked in the head," I answered, sinking down into the +stern on account of a sudden attack of dizziness.</p> + +<p>Caine was tying up my head with a handkerchief when the mists cleared +again from my brain.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir. A nasty crack, but you'll be better soon. I've sent +Johnson up to have a lookout for the guys that done it," the boatswain +told me cheerily. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_108" id="pg_108">108</a></span></p> + +<p>"No use. They've gone to cover long since. Call him back and let's get +across to the ship."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. That will be better."</p> + +<p>He called, and presently Johnson came back.</p> + +<p>"Seen anything of the scoundrels, Johnson?" demanded Caine.</p> + +<p>"Not a thing."</p> + +<p>I had been readjusting the handkerchief, but I happened to look up +unexpectedly. My glance caught a flash of meaning that passed between +the two. It seemed to hint at a triumphant mockery of my plight.</p> + +<p>"Caine is a deep-sea brute, mean-hearted enough to be pleased at what +has happened," I thought peevishly. Later I learned how wide of the mark +my interpretation of that look had been.</p> + +<p>A chorus of welcome greeted me as I passed up the gangway to the deck of +the <i>Argos</i>. One voice came clear to me from the rest. It had in it the +sweet drawl of the South.</p> + +<p>"You're late again, Mr. Sedgwick. And—what's the matter with your +head?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing worth mentioning, Miss Wallace. Captain Bothwell has been +trying to find what is inside of it. I think he found sawdust."</p> + +<p>"You mean——"</p> + +<p>"Knocked in the head as I came down to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_109" id="pg_109">109</a></span> wharf. Serves me right for +being asleep at the switch. Think I'll run down to my room and wash the +blood off."</p> + +<p>Yeager offered to examine the wound. He had had some experience in +broken heads among the boys at his ranch, he said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I could dress the hurt. I had a year's training as a nurse," +suggested Miss Wallace, a little shyly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Yeager is out of a job," I announced promptly.</p> + +<p>The girl blushed faintly.</p> + +<p>"We'll work together, Mr. Yeager."</p> + +<p>She made so deft a surgeon that I was sorry when her cool, firm fingers +had finished with the bandages. Nevertheless, I had a nasty headache and +was glad to get to bed after drinking a cup of tea and eating a slice of +toast.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_110" id="pg_110">110</a></span> +<a name="ANOTHER_STOWAWAY_2815" id="ANOTHER_STOWAWAY_2815"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>ANOTHER STOWAWAY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Southward ho! Before the trade winds we scudded day after day, past +Catalina Island and San Diego, past Santa Margarita lying like a fog +bank on the offing, out into the warm sunshine of the tropical Pacific.</p> + +<p>We promised ourselves that after the treasure had been lifted and we +were headed again for the Golden Gate, our sails should have a chance to +show what they could do alone, but now Blythe was using all his power to +drive the <i>Argos</i> forward.</p> + +<p>What plans Bothwell might have we did not know, but we were taking no +chances of reaching Doubloon Spit too late. If we succeeded in getting +what we had come after there would be plenty of time to dawdle.</p> + +<p>No days in my life stand out as full of enjoyment as those first ones +off the coast of Lower California and Mexico. Under a perfect sky we +sailed serenely. Our fears of Bothwell had vanished. We had shaken him +off and held the winning hand +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_111" id="pg_111">111</a></span> in the game we had played with him. The +tang of the sea spume, of the salt-laden spray was on our lips; the +songs of youth were in our hearts.</p> + +<p>Every hour that I was not on duty, except those given to necessary +sleep, I spent in the company of Evelyn Wallace. Usually her aunt was +also present, and either Blythe or Yeager. That did not matter in the +least, so long as my golden-brown beauty was near, so long as I could +watch the dimples flash in her cheeks and the little nose crinkle to +sudden mirth, or could wait for the sweep of the long lashes that would +bring round to mine the lovely eyes, tender and merry and mocking by +turns.</p> + +<p>Faith, I'll make a clean breast of it. I was already fathoms deep in +love, and my lady did not in the least particularly seem to favor me. +There were moments when hope was strong in me. I magnified a look, a +word, the eager life in her, to the significance my heart desired, but +reason told me that she gave the same friendly comradeship to Blythe and +Yeager.</p> + +<p>It is possible that the absorption in this new interest dulled my +perception of external matters. So at least Sam hinted to me one night +after the ladies had retired. Mott was at the wheel, a game of solitaire +in the smoking room claimed Yeager. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_112" id="pg_112">112</a></span> Blythe and I were tramping the deck +while we smoked.</p> + +<p>"Notice anything peculiar about the men to-day and yesterday, Jack?" he +asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>We were for the moment leaning against the rail, our eyes on the +phosphorescent light that gleamed on the waves.</p> + +<p>"No-o. Can't say that I have. Why?"</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"Thought perhaps you hadn't. When man's engaged——"</p> + +<p>"What!" I interrupted.</p> + +<p>"—— engaged in teaching a pretty girl how to steer, he doesn't notice +little things he otherwise might."</p> + +<p>"Such as——" I suggested.</p> + +<p>He looked around to make sure we were alone.</p> + +<p>"There's something in the wind. I don't know what it is."</p> + +<p>"Something to do with the crew?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They know something about the reason why we're making this trip. +You haven't talked, of course?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Nor Miss Wallace? Perhaps her aunt——"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem likely. Whom would she talk to?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_113" id="pg_113">113</a></span></p> + +<p>"Some of the men may have overheard a sentence or two. The point is that +they are talking treasure in the f'c'sle. Morgan got it from Higgins."</p> + +<p>"From the cook?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Afterward the man was sorry he had spoken. He's the type that +can't keep a secret. Some of it is bound to leak out in his talk."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't Morgan find out where Higgins learned what he knows?"</p> + +<p>"No. I had him try. The man was frightened about what he had already +said. He wouldn't say another word. That doesn't look well."</p> + +<p>After a moment of reflection I spoke.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Bothwell may have told some of the men before we started. I saw +him talking to a man that looked like our chief engineer."</p> + +<p>"When was that?"</p> + +<p>I told in detail about my meeting with Bothwell on the wharf. Of course +I had mentioned the occurrence at the time, but without referring to +Fleming.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he may have told Fleming about it, but——"</p> + +<p>The uncompleted sentence suggested his doubt.</p> + +<p>"You think he isn't the man to give away anything without a good +reason?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_114" id="pg_114">114</a></span></p> + +<p>"You've said it."</p> + +<p>"Of course it's really no business of the crew what we are going after."</p> + +<p>"True enough, but we agreed among ourselves to tell them at the last +moment and in such a way as to enlist them as partners with us. Unless I +guess wrong, their feeling is sullenness. They think we're after booty +in which they have no share."</p> + +<p>"They'll feel all the kinder to us when we let them know that a +percentage of our profits is to go to the crew."</p> + +<p>"Will they? I wonder."</p> + +<p>He was plainly disturbed, more so than I could find any justification +for in the meager facts and surmises he had just confided to me.</p> + +<p>"What is troubling you? What are you afraid of?"</p> + +<p>"I can't put a name to my feeling, but I jolly well wish they didn't +know. Seamen are a rough lot and they get queer ideas."</p> + +<p>"You don't imagine for an instant that they'll maroon us and hoist the +Jolly Roger, do you?" I asked with a laugh.</p> + +<p>He did not echo my laugh.</p> + +<p>"No, but I don't like it. I thought we had the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_115" id="pg_115">115</a></span> game in our own hands, +and now I find the crew has notions, too."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think you're rather overemphasizing the matter, Sam?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am." He appeared to shake off his doubts. "In fact, I'm +pretty sure I am. But I thought it best to mention the thing to you."</p> + +<p>"Glad you did. We'll keep an eye open and, if there's any trouble, nip +it in the bud."</p> + +<p>This was easy enough to say, but the event proved far otherwise. Within +twenty-four hours we were to learn that serious trouble was afoot.</p> + +<p>It was midday of a Saturday, and the sky was clear and cloudless as +those which had gone before. During the forenoon we had been doing a +steady fifteen knots, but there had been some slight trouble with the +engines and we were now making way with the sails alone while the +engineers overhauled the machinery.</p> + +<p>Yeager and I were standing near the cook's scuppers fishing for shark +with fat pork for bait. More than once I had caught the flash of a +white-bellied monster, but Mr. Shark was wary about taking chances.</p> + +<p>Dugan, our carpenter, stopped as he was passing, apparently to watch us. +Glancing at him I noticed something in his face that held my eyes. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_116" id="pg_116">116</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's trouble afoot, Mr. Sedgwick," he broke out in a low, jerky +voice. "For God's sake, make a chance for me to talk to you or Captain +Blythe!"</p> + +<p>The cook came out of his galley at that moment. My wooden face told no +tales.</p> + +<p>"No chance. The beggar's too shy. I've had enough. How about you, +Yeager?"</p> + +<p>"Me to," the Arizonian laughed easily, and he hauled up the line.</p> + +<p>I strolled forward to the pilot house, stopping to chat for an instant +with Miss Berry, who lay in a steamer chair under the awning. For I had +no intention of letting the men suspect that Dugan had told me anything +of importance.</p> + +<p>Blythe was at the wheel. I told him what Dugan had said. Our captain did +not turn a hair.</p> + +<p>"There's a shingle loose on the edge of the roof. Call Dugan to nail it +tight."</p> + +<p>The carpenter brought a hammer and nails. Tom Yeager meanwhile was +sitting on a coil of rope talking to Caine. His laughter rippled up to +us care-free as that of a schoolboy. He never even glanced our way, but +I knew he would be ready when we needed him.</p> + +<p>The captain turned the wheel over to me and stepped outside of the +wheelhouse. Three or four of the men were lounging about the deck. So +far +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_117" id="pg_117">117</a></span> as they could see, Blythe was directing the carpenter about the +work and the latter was explaining how it could be best done.</p> + +<p>"Keep cool, my man. Don't let them guess what you are saying," the +Englishman advised, lighting a cigar.</p> + +<p>"What have you to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Mutiny, sir. That's what it is. We're after treasure. That's the story +I've heard, and the men mean to take the ship."</p> + +<p>I thought of Evelyn and her aunt, and my heart sank.</p> + +<p>Sam stretched his arms and yawned.</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know, sir. I've picked up only a little here and there. Caine +came to me this morning and asked me if I would go in with them."</p> + +<p>Dugan drove two nails into the shingle.</p> + +<p>"Do you know which of the men are stanch?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Can't say as I do, outside of Alderson. Tom's all right."</p> + +<p>"What about arms?"</p> + +<p>"They have plenty. They've been packed in a bulkhead, but Fleming and +Caine gave them out to the men this morning."</p> + +<p>"The deuce! That looks ugly. They must be getting ready for business +soon. If Caine approaches +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_118" id="pg_118">118</a></span> you again, fall in with his plans. Find out +all you can, especially what men we can rely on. That will do."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>As soon as the man had gone the captain turned to me with a fighting +gleam in his quiet eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, Jack, it's worse by a devilish lot than I had thought. We're in +for mutiny. I wouldn't ask for anything better than a turn with these +wharf rats if it weren't for the ladies. But with them aboard it's +different. Wish I knew when Mr. Caine intends to set the match to the +powder."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with my going down into the men's quarters and having +a look around? I might stumble on some information worth while."</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I need my second officer. If he went down there an accident +might happen to him—due to a fall down the stairway or something of the +sort."</p> + +<p>"Then let me send Jimmie. Nobody would pay any attention to him. He +could go into their quarters without suspicion."</p> + +<p>"It would be safe enough for him at present. Why not? Don't tell him too +much, Jack."</p> + +<p>"Trust me."</p> + +<p>Jimmie jumped at the chance to go sleuthing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_119" id="pg_119">119</a></span> again. I had told him a +yarn about suspecting some of the men had whisky concealed in the ship. +He was away less than half an hour, but when he came back it was with a +piece of news most alarming.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sedgwick," he gasped, "you remember that big, black-faced guy you +set me trailing in 'Frisco—Captain what's-his-name—well, he's on this +ship sure as I'm a foot high!"</p> + +<p>My heart lost a beat. "Certain of that, Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, it's a lead-pipe cinch. Saw him in the engine room talking to Mr. +Fleming. When he seen me Mr. Fleming called me to come down. But not for +Jimmie. He took a swift hike up the stairs."</p> + +<p>The boy was all excitement. For that matter so was I, though I concealed +it better. If Bothwell were on board the ship as a stowaway the aspect +of affairs was more serious even than we had thought.</p> + +<p>"You're sure it was Captain Bothwell, Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>"Say, would I know me own mother? Would I know Jim Jeffries or Battling +Nelson if I got an eyeful of them walking down Market Street? Would I be +sure of the Chronicle Building if I set my peepers on it? Betcherlife."</p> + +<p>"How was he dressed?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_120" id="pg_120">120</a></span></p> + +<p>"In sailors' slops. Didn't have on any coat. Wasn't right sure of him at +first, 'cause he's run a lawn mower over them whiskers of his. But this +guy's the original Bothwell all right, all right."</p> + +<p>"Jimmie, listen to me. Don't whisper a word of this. Do you hear?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a clam."</p> + +<p>"And don't go exploring in that end of the ship again. Captain Bothwell +would as soon wring your neck as a chicken's, my boy. Keep away from the +forecastle."</p> + +<p>Immediately I joined Blythe on the bridge and told him what Jimmie had +discovered.</p> + +<p>The captain nodded.</p> + +<p>"That explains what was puzzling us. Bothwell has been too shrewd for +us. He must have arranged it to throw his men in our way when we were +selecting a crew. The scoundrel is laughing in his sleeve at us because +we're taking him and his men at our expense to the treasure."</p> + +<p>"He's diddled us beautifully," I admitted with a sour grin.</p> + +<p>"I grant him one round. The man is dangerous as a wild beast that has +escaped from its cage. But we're warned now. If he bests us it's our own +fault." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_121" id="pg_121">121</a></span></p> + +<p>"It will be a finish fight, no surrender and no quarter."</p> + +<p>My friend nodded, his jaw gripped tight.</p> + +<p>"You've said it."</p> + +<p>"We've one advantage. All of us will stand together. He can't hold his +riffraff long. They will quarrel among themselves. Every day that passes +works in our favor."</p> + +<p>"Right enough, but Bothwell knows this as well as we do. He'll move +soon. We've forced his hand by discovering his presence. Now he can't +let us get into port because he knows we would get help against him."</p> + +<p>"That's true."</p> + +<p>"Unless I guess wrong we'll hear from him inside of twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"Since it has to be, the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>Blythe shrugged his broad, lean shoulders coolly.</p> + +<p>"What must be must. As for Captain Bothwell, I don't think he'll have an +easy time of it. If he doesn't like the treatment he's going to get +he'll have nobody to blame but himself. Nobody asked him on board."</p> + +<p>"We must lose no time in making preparations to meet an attack."</p> + +<p>"You're right. Tell Mr. Mott I wish to see him. Have Yeager look our +weapons over and make sure +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_122" id="pg_122">122</a></span> that they are loaded. Tell him to guard the +armory until further notice. Better give Morgan a revolver at once and +slip Dugan one if you can."</p> + +<p>The flinty resolution in his eye warmed my heart. Man for man, I was +ready to back Blythe against Bothwell.</p> + +<p>The Scotch-Russian had more of the devil in him, a starker cruelty, a +more blazing passion, and perhaps greater cunning; but if I read the +Englishman aright there was in him that same quiet force which carried +Captain Scott to the south pole and afterward gave to the world that +immortal letter, written in a bleak Antarctic waste of icy death.</p> + +<p>Sam Blythe would play the game out steadily to a fighting finish.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_123" id="pg_123">123</a></span> +<a name="TAKING_STOCK_3178" id="TAKING_STOCK_3178"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>TAKING STOCK</h3> +</div> + +<p>Yeager was sitting with the ladies under the awning telling them some +story of his beloved Arizona. At a signal from me he arose and excused +himself. We passed into the reception room and down the stairway.</p> + +<p>"You're armed, of course," I said.</p> + +<p>"Me? I always pack a gun. Got the habit when I was a kid and never +shucked it. For rattlesnakes," he added with a grin.</p> + +<p>"We have a few of them on board. Yeager, the kid saw Bothwell in the +engine room talking with Fleming. Do you know what that means?"</p> + +<p>"I can guess, I reckon," he drawled.</p> + +<p>"It means war—and soon."</p> + +<p>"And war is hell, Sherman said. Let's make it hell for Bothwell. It's +about time for me to begin earning my passage. What's the matter with me +happening down into the forecastle and inviting Capt. Bothwell up to be +more sociable?"</p> + +<p>"Won't do at all. If he were alone it would be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_124" id="pg_124">124</a></span> a different matter. If +you went down there you'd never come up alive. We need every man we've +got. Think of the women."</p> + +<p>His light-blue eye rested in mine.</p> + +<p>"I'd give twenty cows if they were back in Los Angeles, Jack."</p> + +<p>From my pocket I took the key which unlocked the door of the room we +called the armory. After I had selected two revolvers I left him there +attending to business. Morgan I found in Blythe's cabin. He took my news +quietly enough, though he lost color when I told him what we had to +expect.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about revolvers, sir," he said, handling very +respectfully the one I handed him.</p> + +<p>"You'll know more in a day or two," I promised. "Morgan, we're going to +beat these scoundrels. Be quite sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Glad to hear it, sir," he answered doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You know Captain Blythe. He's worth half a dozen of these wharf rats. +So is Mr. Yeager."</p> + +<p>"Are—are all the crew against us?" he asked after a moment's struggle +with his trepidation.</p> + +<p>"No, we know of at least two who are for us. Probably there are others. +Don't be afraid. We're going to smash this mutiny." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_125" id="pg_125">125</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Captain Blythe will see to that. I put my faith in him."</p> + +<p>But in spite of what I had said it was plain that Morgan's faith was a +quavering one. He was a useful man, competent in his own line, but his +<i>métier</i> plainly was not fighting. My news had given him a shock from +which he would not quickly recover.</p> + +<p>It was nearly time for the change of watches, and when I returned to the +deck I saw that Mott was already on the bridge. He listened to our story +with plain incredulity.</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about this man Bothwell, but say the word and I'll go +down and haul him on deck for you, Captain Blythe," he offered, +contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand the situation. He's as dangerous as a mad dog."</p> + +<p>"I've yet to see the first stowaway I couldn't bring to time. They're a +chicken-hearted lot, take my word for it."</p> + +<p>"He isn't a stowaway at all in the ordinary sense of the word. I'll be +plain, Mr. Mott. We're after treasure, and Bothwell means to get it. The +crew are with him."</p> + +<p>"Slap doodle bugs!" retorted our first officer. "I make nothing at all +of your story, captain. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_126" id="pg_126">126</a></span> Thirty years I've sailed this coast and I've +yet to see my first mutiny. Haul up this fellow Bothwell and set him +swabbing decks. If he shows his teeth, give him a rope's end or a +marlinspike. I'll haze him for you a-plenty."</p> + +<p>I could have smiled at Mott's utter lack of appreciation of our dilemma +if his bull-headed obstinacy had not been likely to cost us so much.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand the man with whom we have to deal, Mr. Mott. He +sticks at nothing," I explained.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, Mr. Sedgwick. He'd stick at deck swabbing if I stood over +him with a handspike," the burly mate answered grimly. "Truth is, +gentlemen, I don't think that of your mutiny." And he snapped his +fingers with a complacent laugh. "Mind you, I don't deny the men are a +bit unsettled, what with all this talk of treasure that's going around. +What they need is roughing and, by the jumping mercury, Johnny Mott is +the man to do it!"</p> + +<p>There are none so blind as those who will not see. We could not even +persuade Mott to accept a revolver. He had made up his mind that the +whole thing was nothing more or less than a mare's nest.</p> + +<p>"What do you know of the men?" I urged. "Take our engineers. We picked +up the Flemings +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_127" id="pg_127">127</a></span> on the wharf because we needed engineers in a hurry. +The day before we sailed I saw George Fleming on the wharf talking to +this man Bothwell. They are working together against us."</p> + +<p>"What of it? Let them work. But don't go to dreaming about mutiny, Mr. +Sedgwick. You ask what I know of the crew. By your leave, I know this +much. I've bullied American seamen for thirty years come next November, +and there's not an ounce of mutiny in a million of them."</p> + +<p>And at that we had to let it go for the present. There were more +important things on hand than the conversion of a wooden-headed tar.</p> + +<p>Leaving Mott at the wheel we adjourned to the deck saloon for a +discussion of ways and means. Miss Wallace sauntered in with a magazine +in her hand.</p> + +<p>The captain's eye questioned mine. I nodded. She would have to learn +soon how things stood, and I trusted to her courage to hear the news +without any fainting or hysterics. The color washed out of her face, but +she showed not the least sign of panic.</p> + +<p>"What can I do?" she asked in a steady voice.</p> + +<p>"At present you may join an officers' council, Miss Wallace," said he. +"The first thing to find out is who are for us and who against. Let's +take +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_128" id="pg_128">128</a></span> the enemy first. There is Bothwell himself to begin with, and, of +course, the two Flemings and Caine. Are we sure of any others?"</p> + +<p>"Johnson," I replied at once. "He was one of the two men who attacked me +at San Pedro. I thought at the time one of the voices sounded familiar, +but I couldn't place it. After I reached the boat I noticed Caine +watching me closely. The reason is clear enough to me now. He and +Johnson slugged me, and he was watching to see if I had any suspicion of +him."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Quite. I couldn't swear to them, but I'm morally certain. Johnson's +English is just a little broken. It was his voice I knew."</p> + +<p>"That makes five against us so far. We can add the firemen to that, +since George Fleming chose them."</p> + +<p>"Eight to begin with. What about the rest of the crew?"</p> + +<p>"The man they call Tot Dennis was signed for me by Caine. Afraid we'll +have to give him to the enemy."</p> + +<p>"Williams is a great friend of Dennis. I've seen them together a lot," +Evelyn suggested.</p> + +<p>"That's true, but Williams has sailed with me +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_129" id="pg_129">129</a></span> twice before. I did think +I could have trusted him."</p> + +<p>"No doubt Caine and Bothwell have been influencing him. Put Williams +down doubtful."</p> + +<p>We checked off the rest of the crew by name, but could find no evidence +against any of them.</p> + +<p>"How many can we depend upon?" Evelyn asked.</p> + +<p>"Yeager, Mott, Morgan, Jack here, and myself. That's five to begin +with," counted Blythe.</p> + +<p>"Dugan and Alderson," I added.</p> + +<p>"Seven. Any more?"</p> + +<p>"Our steward. Phillips is his name."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Miss Wallace?"</p> + +<p>"He's the most harmless creature on earth."</p> + +<p>The captain smiled.</p> + +<p>"Afraid he won't be of much use to us then. We want harmful men. But +count him. That makes eight for us, nine against us, six doubtful. We'll +do very nicely."</p> + +<p>"And there's the cook. He's so fat and good-natured he must be all +right," Evelyn suggested.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! I'd forgotten 'Arry 'Iggins. No, he's against us. He talked to +my man Morgan."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose his flunky, Billie Blue, goes with cookie?" I added. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_130" id="pg_130">130</a></span></p> + +<p>"The nine against us is now eleven," the girl said quietly.</p> + +<p>I spoke cheerfully, which is far from how I felt.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, what's the odds? Nine or eleven, we'll beat them."</p> + +<p>A steamer rug lying on a lounge at the end of the room heaved itself up. +From its folds emerged the red head of Jimmie, belligerently. Its owner +had evidently been roused from a nap.</p> + +<p>"Where do I get off at I'd like to know?" demanded the indignant +namesake of a martyred President. "Didn't I run down his nibs for you in +'Frisco and wise you where he was staying? Didn't I find out he was +aboard here? Why ain't you countin' me in?"</p> + +<p>Blythe assented gravely, but with a twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>"Our error, Jimmie. Counting you we have nine good men and true."</p> + +<p>"One of Jimmie's strong points is that he doesn't talk. He knows how to +keep his mouth shut. Don't you, Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>"Sure thing, Mr. Sedgwick. I'm a clam, I am."</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then run along and keep an eye on things outside. If you see anything +suspicious, let me know at once." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_131" id="pg_131">131</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. You bet you." And the boy was off at the word.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we put back to San Diego?" Miss Wallace asked.</p> + +<p>The captain shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No. If I turned the ship's head they would be about our ears like +rats."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to keep on as we are going."</p> + +<p>A sardonic smile touched Blythe's strong, lean face.</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Bothwell's move. If we turned back he would have to stop us; +if we continue to Panama he must prevent us from going into the harbor, +or his game is up."</p> + +<p>"Then what will he do?"</p> + +<p>"He'll move, Miss Wallace."</p> + +<p>She looked at him, a man of quiet, contained strength, and some sort of +vision of what we were to go through flitted before her mind. Her lips +were gray and bloodless.</p> + +<p>"That dreadful treasure!" she murmured. "Why did we ever come after it?"</p> + +<p>A faint sound drew me to my feet and across the room to the stairway. A +fat bulk of a man was crouched on the steps about half-way down. He +scuttled to his feet at sight of me.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Higgins! Just taking a nap +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_132" id="pg_132">132</a></span> on the stairs, I presume," +was my ironical greeting.</p> + +<p>The color faded from his blotched face.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, not as you might say——" He moistened his dry lips with the +tip of his tongue and tried again. "Truth is, sir, Hi wanted to ask Miss +Wallace what she would like for dinner."</p> + +<p>"That's very considerate of you. And I'm sure it's the truth. You were +merely resting on the way. Come on up, Higgins. That is, if you're now +able to finish the journey. Or shall I help you?"</p> + +<p>The tail of his eye had swung round to take in the lower deck. I could +have sworn the man was considering making a bolt for it, but at my words +he gave up the idea with a fat sigh. He came up slowly, his eyes fixed +on mine as if I held them fascinated. Tiny beads of sweat stood out on +his forehead. 'Arry 'Iggins was not at that moment comfortable in his +mind.</p> + +<p>"Hi strive to please, sir," he explained. "Whatever the young lady would +like. Hin a manner of speakin' I'm 'er 'umble servant, very respectably, +'Arry Iggins."</p> + +<p>He ducked his head toward her and again toward Blythe.</p> + +<p>"Come here," the captain ordered.</p> + +<p>Higgins shuffled reluctantly forward. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_133" id="pg_133">133</a></span></p> + +<p>"When did you first meet this man Bothwell?"</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir. Don't think I know the gent, sir."</p> + +<p>The Englishman's eyes pierced into his fellow-countryman like a drill.</p> + +<p>"Don't lie to me."</p> + +<p>The cook had recourse to a large bandanna handkerchief to mop away his +perspiration.</p> + +<p>"If you mean the stowaway, sir, Hi met 'im just before we reached Los +Angeles."</p> + +<p>"How many of the crew are with him in this mutiny?"</p> + +<p>"Mutiny, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mince words. How many?"</p> + +<p>"There you 'ave me, sir. S'elp me, Captain Blythe, Hi'm not in 'is +confidence."</p> + +<p>The man's painful assumption of innocence would have been pathetic had +it not been ridiculous.</p> + +<p>"I know that," retorted my friend contemptuously. "He'll +use you and chuck you aside, dead or alive, whichever is +most convenient. Bothwell would as soon knife his fat +friend as wink. But that's not the point just now. +You'll—tell—me—all—you—know—about—this—affair—at—once. +Understand?"</p> + +<p>Higgins wriggled like a trout on the hook, but he had to tell what he +knew. In point of fact this +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_134" id="pg_134">134</a></span> was not much more than we had already +learned.</p> + +<p>"You will go back to Bothwell and tell him to start the band playing +just as soon as he has his program arranged. Tell him we don't care a +jackstraw for his mutiny, and that if he lives through it we'll take him +in irons to Panama and have him hanged as high as Haman. Get that, my +man?" demanded Blythe.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. 'Anged as 'igh as 'Aman. Hi'll remember, sir."</p> + +<p>Sam turned to me and spoke in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Before this fellow goes I want Mott to hear what he has said. Take +Yeager up with you and relieve him. And see that Alderson gets a +revolver."</p> + +<p>I took our mate's place at the wheel and sent him forward. Tom Yeager +leaned on the ship's rail and looked away across the glassy waters of +the Pacific. I remember that he was humming, as was his fashion, a +snatch from a musical comedy.</p> + +<p>It was such a day as one dreams about, with that pleasant warmth in the +air that makes for indolent content. One or two of the men were lounging +lazily on the forecastle deck. Caine was reading a book of travels I had +lent him the previous day.</p> + +<p>Were we all, as Mott believed, the victims of a stupid nightmare? Or +could it be true that beneath +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_135" id="pg_135">135</a></span> all this peace boiled a volcano ready at +any minute for an eruption?</p> + +<p>Mott returned in an unpleasant mood. The truth is that he was nursing a +grudge because he was the last man on board to know that we were on a +cruise for treasure. He resented it that our party had not told him, and +he took it with a bad grace that every man jack of the crew had been +whispering for days about something of which he had been kept in the +dark. Upon my word I think he had some just cause of complaint.</p> + +<p>While he jeered at the precautions we were taking I tried to placate +him, for now of all times we could least afford to have any quarrels in +our party.</p> + +<p>"You will admit there is no harm in going prepared, Mr. Mott?" I argued.</p> + +<p>"To be sure. Ballast yourselves with revolvers, for all I care. I'll +carry one because Captain Blythe has ordered it, but don't expect me to +join in the play acting."</p> + +<p>I felt myself flushing.</p> + +<p>"The situation appears to us a very serious one."</p> + +<p>"Slap doodle bugs! Let Captain Blythe give the word and I'll go down and +bring up this bogey man, that is, if there is such a fellow aboard at +all."</p> + +<p>Presently I was called down to luncheon. I found Miss Wallace lingering +with Blythe in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_136" id="pg_136">136</a></span> dining-room. As soon as I arrived the captain left.</p> + +<p>Philips waited on me. He had already heard the news, and was ashen. His +hands trembled as he passed dishes so that I was sorry for him.</p> + +<p>"He's badly frightened, poor man," the young woman whispered to me +across the table during one of his absences. "I wish I could tell him +that there will probably be no serious trouble."</p> + +<p>Her eyes appealed to mine. I could see that with her aunt and poor +Philips on her hands she was in for no easy time. But I could not lie to +her.</p> + +<p>"What do you think yourself? You know your cousin. Will he lie down and +let us win without a fight?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head slowly. "No. He'll go through with his villainy, no +matter what it costs."</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is no use blinking the facts. We're in for a test of +strength. I'm sorry, but the only way to meet the situation is to accept +it and be ready for it. I don't fear the result."</p> + +<p>She looked steadily at me.</p> + +<p>"Nor I. But it's dreadful to have to wait and hold our hands. I wish I +could do something."</p> + +<p>"You can," I smiled. "You may pass me the potatoes, and after I have +finished eating you may play for us. We must show these scurvy ruffians +that we aren't a bit afraid of them."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_137" id="pg_137">137</a></span> +<a name="MY_UNEXPECTED_GUEST_3591" id="MY_UNEXPECTED_GUEST_3591"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>MY UNEXPECTED GUEST</h3> +</div> + +<p>"And will they murder us all in our beds?"</p> + +<p>Miss Berry, very white but not at all hysterical, had Blythe penned in a +corner by the piano as she asked the question.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goose, auntie," her niece smiled affectionately.</p> + +<p>"The fact is that we were afraid you might complain of ennui, so we have +stirred up a little excitement," explained Sam.</p> + +<p>"Truly, Mr. Blythe?"</p> + +<p>My friend looked at me appealingly and I came to the rescue.</p> + +<p>"Sailors are a queer lot. They often get notions that have to be knocked +out of them. We'll try not to disturb you while we do the hammering, +Miss Berry."</p> + +<p>A faint color washed back into her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope you are right. It would be dreadful if——" she interrupted +herself to take a more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_138" id="pg_138">138</a></span> cheerful view. "But I am sure Mr. Mott is right. +He has been on the seas a great many years more than you two. He ought +to know best, oughtn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," I conceded. "And I hope he does."</p> + +<p>"Besides, Captain Bothwell is such a gentleman. I'm sure he wouldn't do +anything so dreadful. I wish I could talk to him. He was always so +reasonable with me, though Evie and he couldn't get along."</p> + +<p>I concealed my smile at the thought of Miss Berry converting him.</p> + +<p>The trumpet call to dinner diverted our thoughts. I dropped into my room +to wash before dinner, with the surprising result that I lost the meal.</p> + +<p>As I opened the door a low voice advised me to close it at once. Since I +was looking into the wrong end of a revolver, and that weapon was in the +hand of a very urgent person, I complied with the suggestion. The man +behind the gun was Boris Bothwell.</p> + +<p>"Hope I don't intrude," I apologized, glancing at the disorder in my +stateroom.</p> + +<p>The floor was littered with papers, coats, collars, ties, and underwear. +Drawers had been dragged out and emptied, my trunk gutted of its +contents. Evidently the captain had been engaged in a thorough +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_139" id="pg_139">139</a></span> search +of the cabin when my entrance diverted his attention.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I was hoping you would come," he answered pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I should have knocked before entering, but then I didn't expect +to find you here."</p> + +<p>"I came on impulse," he explained. "I had reason to suppose you would be +busy for an hour or two. By the way, Evie <i>is</i> entertaining. Did I ever +mention to you that it is my intention to marry her?"</p> + +<p>"I think not."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then I make a confidant of you now. Congratulate me, my friend."</p> + +<p>"Is this an official announcement?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Hardly official, I think. The lady does not know it."</p> + +<p>"Then I think I'll wait till the engagement gets her O. K."</p> + +<p>"As you like, Mr. Sedgwick, but I assure you I am an irresistible +lover."</p> + +<p>"So I hear you say," I replied coldly. "Was it to tell me this that you +have put me in debt to you for this call?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly. To be frank, I came to get a map."</p> + +<p>I sat down on the edge of the bed.</p> + +<p>"Again?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_140" id="pg_140">140</a></span></p> + +<p>"As you say, again."</p> + +<p>"Quite like old times, isn't it? I am reminded of our 'Frisco Nights' +Entertainment. The search for a map in other people's apartments is +becoming rather a habit with you, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a persistent beggar," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"I regret we have no more copies to lend."</p> + +<p>He laughed indulgently.</p> + +<p>"<i>Touché, monsieur.</i> But I don't care for copies. I am a collector of +originals."</p> + +<p>"They are said to be expensive."</p> + +<p>"But valuable."</p> + +<p>"Still, the cost is a consideration."</p> + +<p>"Not when some one else pays the shot, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>"I see. You expect those poor devils whom you are misleading to draw the +chestnut out of the fire for you."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," he admitted with the gayest aplomb.</p> + +<p>"You are willing that they should pay to the limit?" I asked, curious to +see how far his cynical audacity would carry him.</p> + +<p>He shrugged, with a lift of his strong hands.</p> + +<p>"That is as luck, or fate, or Providence—whichever you believe in, Mr. +Sedgwick—deals out the cards. I'm not a god, you know." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_141" id="pg_141">141</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know that you cannot follow the course outlined without lives being +lost," I persisted.</p> + +<p>"I'll take your word for it," he flung back lightly.</p> + +<p>"That won't deter you in the least?"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it Napoleon who said one couldn't make an omelet without +breaking eggs?"</p> + +<p>"And yet his omelet was not a success," I reflected aloud.</p> + +<p>"Whose is, Mr. Sedgwick? We all have our Waterloos. Love, ambition, the +search for wealth—none of them satisfy. But though none of us find +happiness we yet seek. That is human nature."</p> + +<p>I shot a question at him abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you got all this treasure—would you keep faith with those +poor, deluded ruffians and share with them?"</p> + +<p>His hardy smile approved me.</p> + +<p>"You're deep, my friend. Now I wonder what I would do? My tools <i>are</i> +deluded. Wealth could not bring them the happiness they think it would. +Most of them it would ruin. I fear it would be my duty to——"</p> + +<p>"—— let them hold the sack," I finished for him.</p> + +<p>"Precisely."</p> + +<p>"There is, then, no honor among thieves."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. No more than there is among gentlemen. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_142" id="pg_142">142</a></span> But since you +object to having eggs broken, I offer you an alternative."</p> + +<p>I waited.</p> + +<p>"In order to save eggs I'll ask you to turn over to me the map."</p> + +<p>"Where do you think I keep it? You've already searched my rooms and my +person. I'm no wizard."</p> + +<p>His black eyes bored into mine.</p> + +<p>"We've been over this ground once before, Mr. Sedgwick. You know me. I'm +here for business."</p> + +<p>"So I judge."</p> + +<p>"Come! This won't do. I'm a determined man. That map I'm going to have. +Unless you want the scene to close with the final exit of John Sedgwick, +find for me the map."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I tell you that I haven't it?"</p> + +<p>"I shall believe you, since the evidence would support the assertion. I +should then ask who has it?"</p> + +<p>"You certainly are a man of one idea. I think I've never had the +pleasure of talking with you that you didn't switch the conversation +back to that map."</p> + +<p>He raised the revolver.</p> + +<p>"I asked a question."</p> + +<p>There was a step outside, followed by a knock on the door. "Come in," I +sang out instantly. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_143" id="pg_143">143</a></span></p> + +<p>Bothwell's furious gaze came back from the door just as I leaped. A +bullet crashed through the skylight, for my arm had deflected his. I +wrapped myself about him in silent struggle for the weapon. We swayed +against the bed and went down upon it hard, our weight tearing through +the springs. Desperately I clung to his arm to keep the weapon from +pointing at me.</p> + +<p>"Let go, Sedgwick," a voice ordered.</p> + +<p>Sinewy fingers had tightened on Bothwell's throat and a strong hand had +wrenched the revolver from him.</p> + +<p>Panting, I struggled to my feet. My opportune friend covered the Russian +with his own weapon and drawled out a warning.</p> + +<p>"Don't you now, Mr. Pirate, or I'll certainly have to load you up with +lead."</p> + +<p>Bothwell lay on the bed, his breast heaving from his exertions. In no +man's looks have I ever seen a more furious malice, but he had sense +enough to recognize that this was our moment.</p> + +<p>"If it ain't butting in, what were you gentlemen milling around so +active about this warm day?" asked Yeager.</p> + +<p>"Same old point of difference. Captain Bothwell wanted a map."</p> + +<p>Tom laughed gently. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_144" id="pg_144">144</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sho! You hadn't ought to be so blamed urgent, cap. It don't buy you +anything."</p> + +<p>The Russian struggled with his rage, fought it down, and again found his +ironic smile.</p> + +<p>"I am under the impression that it would have bought me a map if it had +not been for your arrival, sir."</p> + +<p>"Too bad I spoiled yore game, then."</p> + +<p>"For the present," amended the defeated man. "I am a person of much +resource, Mr. Sedgwick will tell you." Then, with a glance at the bit of +plaster on my head: "He still wears a souvenir to remind him of it."</p> + +<p>"My little adventure at San Pedro. I always, credited you with that, +captain. Thanks."</p> + +<p>"You're entirely welcome. More to follow," he smiled.</p> + +<p>"What are you allowing to do with your guest, Sedgwick?" asked Yeager.</p> + +<p>"We'll leave that to Blythe. I suppose we had better put him in irons +and guard him. We can drop him off at Panama."</p> + +<p>"Any port in a time of storm," suggested our prisoner blithely.</p> + +<p>"Personally, I'd like to see you marooned for a few months," I growled, +for the man's insolence ruffled me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_145" id="pg_145">145</a></span></p> + +<p>I found Blythe on the bridge with Mott.</p> + +<p>"I have to report a prisoner of war captured, captain," I announced in +formal military style.</p> + +<p>Blythe laughed.</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Boris Bothwell, sir."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>I told him and Mott the circumstances. The mate unbent a little.</p> + +<p>"And the lubber shot at you? In your own cabin! Put him in irons and +throw him ashore at Panama. That's my advice, Mr. Blythe. Get rid of +him, and you'll not hear any more about this mutiny business."</p> + +<p>"I'm of that opinion myself, Mr. Mott. We'll keep him under guard until +he's in safe custody."</p> + +<p>Blythe followed me down to my cabin, and for the first time he and +Bothwell looked each other over.</p> + +<p>"This isn't a passenger ship, sir," announced the owner of the <i>Argos</i> +bluntly. "You've made a mistake, sir. We'll hand you over to the +authorities at Panama."</p> + +<p>Bothwell bowed.</p> + +<p>"Dee-lighted! I've always wanted to see the old city of Pizarro, Drake +and Morgan. Many a galleon has been looted of ingots and bullion by the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_146" id="pg_146">146</a></span> +old seadogs there. If I weren't so conscientious, by Jupiter, I'd turn +pirate myself."</p> + +<p>"Haven't a doubt of it," Blythe assented curtly. "We'll try to see that +your opportunities don't match your inclinations. Unless I guess wrong +you wouldn't hesitate to cut a throat to escape if your hands were +free."</p> + +<p>"Not at all."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Merely as a formality we'll take the precaution of making sure +you haven't any weapons that might go off and injure you—or anybody +else. Jack, may I trouble you to look in my cabin for a pair of +handcuffs—middle right hand drawer of my dressing table?"</p> + +<p>We made our prisoner secure and spelled each other watching him. The +first three hours fell to me. Except the Arizonian I think all of us +felt a weight lifted from our hearts. The chief villain was in our hands +and the mutiny nipped in the bud.</p> + +<p>But Bothwell had managed to inject a fly into the ointment of my +content.</p> + +<p>"We've drawn your sting now," Blythe had told him before he left.</p> + +<p>"Have you? Bet you a pony I'll be free inside of twenty-four hours," the +Russian had coolly answered.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_147" id="pg_147">147</a></span> +<a name="MUTINY_3907" id="MUTINY_3907"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>MUTINY</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was in the afternoon of the day after our encounter with Bothwell—to +be more accurate, just after four bells. Miss Wallace and I were sitting +under the deck awning, she working in a desultory fashion upon a piece +of embroidery while I watched her lazily.</p> + +<p>The languorous day was of the loveliest. It invited to idleness, made +repudiation of work a virtue. My stint was over for a few hours at least +and I enjoyed the luxury of pitying poor Mott, who was shut up in a +stuffy cabin with our prisoner.</p> + +<p>Yeager, too, was off duty. We could hear him pounding away at the piano +in the saloon. Ragtime floated to us, and presently a snatch from "The +Sultan of Sulu."</p> + +<p style='margin-left:2em;'> +Since I first met you,<br /> +Since I first met you,<br /> +The open sky above me seems a deeper blue,<br /> +Golden, rippling sunshine warms me through and through,<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_148" id="pg_148">148</a></span> +Each flower has a new perfume since I first met you.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"T. Yeager is a born optimist," I commented idly. "Life is one long, +glorious lark to him. I believe he would be happy if he knew raw, red +mutiny were going to break out in twenty minutes."</p> + +<p>"He's very likable. I never knew a man who has had so many experiences. +There's something right boyish about him."</p> + +<p>"Even if he could give me about a dozen years."</p> + +<p>"Years don't count with his kind. He's so full of life, so fresh and yet +so wise."</p> + +<p>"His music isn't fresh anyhow. I move we go stop it."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I'm very comfortable here. I don't second the motion," she +declined.</p> + +<p>"Motion withdrawn. But I'm going to tempt him from that piano just the +same. Jimmie, come here. Run down to the music-room and tell Mr. Yeager +that Miss Wallace would like to see him."</p> + +<p>Evelyn laughed.</p> + +<p>"I think you're real mean, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>"For saving the life of your musical soul?"</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> pretty bad," she admitted.</p> + +<p>He was on the chorus again, his raucous exuberant voice riding it like +one of his own bucking broncos. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_149" id="pg_149">149</a></span></p> + +<p>Golden, rippling sunshine warms me through and through, +Each flower has a new perfume since I first met you.</p> + +<p>"Bad. He's the worst ever. Thank Heaven, we've got him stopped! There he +comes with Jimmie."</p> + +<p>He moved across the deck toward us with that little roll usually +peculiar to dismounted horsemen of the plains.</p> + +<p>"I <i>do</i> like him," the young woman murmured. "He's so strong and gentle +and good-natured. I don't suppose he could get mad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, couldn't he? I'll ask him about that."</p> + +<p>"Now I <i>do</i> think you're mean," she reproached with a flash of her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You sent for me, Miss Wallace? Was it to throw him overboard because +he's mean?" Yeager asked genially.</p> + +<p>Her eye was sparkling and her lips open for an answer, but the words +were never spoken. For at that instant a man burst past us with blood +streaming down his face from a ghastly cut in the forehead. He was +making for the bridge.</p> + +<p>"It's come," I said, rising and drawing my revolver.</p> + +<p>"I must go to Auntie," Evelyn said, very white about the lips. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_150" id="pg_150">150</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not now. She's perfectly safe. They won't trouble her till they have +won the ship."</p> + +<p>"And there will be some merry times before then, I expect," said Tom, +his hand on the butt of a revolver and his vigilant eye sweeping the +deck.</p> + +<p>We were hurrying forward to the wheelhouse. Every moment I expected to +see a rush of men tearing up the companionway, but all seemed quiet and +orderly. The hands on deck either had not noticed Dugan, or else were +awaiting developments.</p> + +<p>"'Twas Caine did it, sir," Dugan explained to Blythe. "I was lying in my +bunk when he came down with the stowaway you were holding prisoner."</p> + +<p>"With Bothwell?" I cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. They asked me to join them in taking the ship. They put it +plain they meant to get the treasure."</p> + +<p>"Do you know which of the men is with them?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Soon as I got the drift of what they were at I let Caine have +my fist in his dirty mouth. He came at me with a cutlas. I got this cut +before I could break away. Gallagher tried to head me, but I bowled him +over."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how Bothwell escaped?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_151" id="pg_151">151</a></span></p> + +<p>"Caine helped him. I heard Tot Dennis say that Mr. Mott had got his. +That was just before they spoke to me."</p> + +<p>Evelyn sat down quickly. I think she wanted to faint. She too understood +what was meant by the words that Mott had "got his."</p> + +<p>"What about Alderson? Are you sure he can be trusted?" Blythe asked of +the sailor.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I can speak for him and for Smith."</p> + +<p>Alderson was on deck and I called him to us. He was a clean-cut seamanly +fellow of about thirty. His blue eyes were frank and self-reliant.</p> + +<p>"My man, there's mutiny aboard. That's the short of it. Are you for us +or against us?"</p> + +<p>"I'm for you, sir."</p> + +<p>"Good. We're going to beat the scoundrels, but there is going to be +fighting."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Bully for you!" cried Yeager, and slapped him on the back. "Can you +shoot?"</p> + +<p>"Not especially well, sir."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me," ordered Blythe. "Our aim must be to hold the wheelhouse +and the cabins. Mr. Sedgwick, you will take Miss Wallace back to the +staterooms and rally the rest of our forces. Mr. Mott is done for, I am +afraid, but the rest of our friends are probably all right. Arm all of +them. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_152" id="pg_152">152</a></span> Get the rifles out. Better nail up the windows and lock the doors +after you are in. Alderson and Dugan will go with you. You, too, Jimmie. +Yeager, you are the best shot. I'll have you stay with me."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better join us and give up the wheelhouse for the present?"</p> + +<p>The Englishman's eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>"Surrender my ship to that scum! I'm surprised at you, Jack."</p> + +<p>"I'm not surprised at you," I grinned. "I meant only until we have +beaten them."</p> + +<p>"What about the rest of the crew who are for us?" Miss Wallace asked.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to give them time to declare themselves."</p> + +<p>We obeyed orders at once, Alderson supporting Dugan, who was growing +weak from loss of blood. As we went to the reception room I caught sight +of Tot Dennis, his hatchet face peering above the companionway at the +end of the bridge deck. At sight of me his head disappeared hastily. But +he had given me an idea. I hung back while the rest of our party passed +into the saloon, then walked forward quickly and descended to the lower +deck.</p> + +<p>A little group of men were gathered at the hatchway leading to the +forecastle. I stepped briskly toward them, though Johnson's revolver was +covering +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_153" id="pg_153">153</a></span> me. I'll admit I took a chance, but it was a calculated one. +If Caine or Bothwell had been with them I would not have dared so far, +but I reckoned that their mental habits as seamen were still strong +enough to keep them from shooting an officer.</p> + +<p>"You poor devils, Dennis, Johnson and Mack! Do you know what this means? +It spells hanging for every mother's son of you. Don't be a madman and +fire that gun, Johnson. There's still a chance, even for you. Cut loose +from the pirate you're serving and join the honest party. Mack, you're +not a mutineer, are you? You don't want to be hanged at the yardarm, do +you?"</p> + +<p>The group at the stairway had become four instead of three.</p> + +<p>"Avast there, Mr. Sedgwick. Get back or I'll fire," growled Caine.</p> + +<p>"I'm not speaking to you, Caine. Your bacon is cooked. I'm making my +offer to the others. I've got no time to wait, my men. Are you coming?"</p> + +<p>A bullet from Caine's revolver whistled past my ear. I stayed no longer, +but fell back to the stairs and took to my heels. A bullet chipped away +a splinter of wood beside me as I ran.</p> + +<p>I found Dugan stretched on one of the long saloon seats, already being +ministered to by Morgan and Evelyn. Alderson had locked one door and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_154" id="pg_154">154</a></span> +was on guard at the other, cutlas and revolver in hand.</p> + +<p>"Well done, Alderson. That's the way to keep a lookout," I sang out +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir. Were you hit? That was risky, sir, talking to them +without cover."</p> + +<p>"They can't hit a barn door," I answered with a laugh.</p> + +<p>I had moved over to the hospital corps and was looking down at the +wounded man.</p> + +<p>"Is he badly hurt?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Evelyn looked at me with an expression I did not understand.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so. You mustn't do that again, Mr. Sedgwick. It isn't +right to take unnecessary risks." Her voice was a little tense and +strained.</p> + +<p>We heard the sound of a shot and presently of slapping footsteps.</p> + +<p>"Let me in," called a panting voice.</p> + +<p>Alderson turned to me.</p> + +<p>"It's Williams, sir. Shall I let him in?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>There came the crack of a rifle. Simultaneously Williams burst in on us.</p> + +<p>"They're shooting at me, sir. I watched my chance to follow you."</p> + +<p>"You're an honest man?" I asked sharply. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_155" id="pg_155">155</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course I am, sir. Couldn't say so with all of them around me."</p> + +<p>"Good." I gave Jimmie the key of our armory. "Take Williams down and let +him choose a revolver and a cutlas."</p> + +<p>I would have gone with him myself, but at that moment a voice had hailed +the captain. Stepping from the saloon I saw Bothwell with a white +handkerchief at the head of the stairway leading from the main deck.</p> + +<p>"Envoy to former Captain Blythe from the crew," I heard him say.</p> + +<p>Crisp and clear sang the answer of our captain.</p> + +<p>"My man, I don't know you. If my crew have anything to say let them send +one of their own number. I don't deal with stowaways scalawags."</p> + +<p>"You'll deal with me if you deal with them. I've been elected captain in +place of Mr. Blythe, deposed."</p> + +<p>"The devil you have! Bite on this, my man. I own this boat, every stick +and ribbon of her. I'm going to be master here. If the men want to talk +I'll name conditions. Let them bring you and Caine up here in irons and +put their arms down on the deck. That will be a preliminary to any talk +between me and them."</p> + +<p>"You speak large, Mr. Blythe." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_156" id="pg_156">156</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>Captain</i> Blythe, my man, and don't you forget it! Now tramp. Get back +to your ruffians or I'll put a bullet through you."</p> + +<p>"Would you fire on a flag of truce?"</p> + +<p>"I recognize no flag of truce in your hands. Look lively."</p> + +<p>"I've only got to say that I'll take pleasure in settling your hash for +this," Bothwell cried angrily.</p> + +<p>"I'm not Mr. Mott. You'll not find it so easy to murder me. Move!"</p> + +<p>Bothwell disappeared with a curse. I retired into the saloon.</p> + +<p>Evelyn was standing near the door with a face in which I could read both +anxiety and anger.</p> + +<p>"Why do you expose yourself like that?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to see what was going on."</p> + +<p>"You'll be shot. Then what shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"There's not much danger yet, and I must keep in touch with our friends +forward. Don't you think we had better get your patient to bed?"</p> + +<p>"I'm all right, sir," Dugan spoke up faintly.</p> + +<p>"He ought to be kept quiet for a day or two," his young nurse decided.</p> + +<p>"I'll take him down to my cabin. Perhaps you +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_157" id="pg_157">157</a></span> can get him something to +put him to sleep, Miss Wallace."</p> + +<p>Miss Berry came up the stairs just as we were starting down. She looked +like a ghost.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sedgwick, I've just been wakened from a nap. I heard some one +groaning in the cabin next to mine." She caught sight of Dugan's +bandaged head and cried out: "What's the matter? Has something +happened?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, Miss Berry."</p> + +<p>"What are these men doing with pistols? Where does that blood come +from?"</p> + +<p>Evelyn came forward and took her aunt in her arms.</p> + +<p>"Dearie, we can trust Captain Blythe and Mr. Sedgwick. We mustn't make +it harder for them. Just now they are very busy."</p> + +<p>I looked my thanks.</p> + +<p>Williams and Jimmie returned from the armory. Morgan and Philips were at +their heels. The steward looked very yellow.</p> + +<p>"Let me know if there is any sign of trouble. I'll be back presently," I +told Alderson.</p> + +<p>Having put Dugan to bed in my room, I stepped into the one where we had +been keeping our prisoner. Mott lay on the floor, his body still warm, +quite dead. I judged that he had expired within +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_158" id="pg_158">158</a></span> the past few minutes. +He had been struck with some blunt instrument and then knifed. The man +had paid for his obstinate disbelief with his life.</p> + +<p>I lifted the body to the bed, locked the door, and returned to the +promenade deck saloon. For the throb of the propeller had ceased. An +immediate attack was probably impending.</p> + +<p>Miss Berry was sobbing softly in the arms of her niece. In my absence we +had gained another adherent. Billie Blue, the cook's flunky, had come up +from below.</p> + +<p>"Where is Higgins?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Don't know, sir. He left right after lunch."</p> + +<p>Alderson, who had been craning out of the door, drew back his head to +speak.</p> + +<p>"They're coming, sir."</p> + +<p>"Down to your cabin, ladies. You go with them, Jimmie. Lock yourselves +in," I ordered.</p> + +<p>Evelyn's white lips tried to frame some words as she passed me. I +understood what she wanted to say.</p> + +<p>"I'll be careful," I promised.</p> + +<p>"I have no weapon, sir," Billie Blue told me.</p> + +<p>I had brought up with me from below a repeating rifle, so I handed him +one of my revolvers and an Italian dirk that had been hanging on the +wall as an ornament. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_159" id="pg_159">159</a></span></p> + +<p>The second door I ordered locked. Putting my head out of one of the +windows I counted the enemy as they stood grouped near the stairway from +the main deck. Bothwell was in the lead, followed by Caine. At their +heels trooped both engineers, the three firemen, the cook, Johnson, +Mack, Gallagher, Dennis, Smith, and Neidlinger. It was not easy to count +them, because they shifted to and fro, but I was almost sure they were +fourteen. The boatswain carried in his hand a towel, which he was +waving.</p> + +<p>"Crew to have a conference with you, Cap'n Blythe," he called out.</p> + +<p>"I hold no conference with armed mutineers," Blythe called back sternly.</p> + +<p>He was standing in the wheelhouse, rifle in hand. Beside him was the +curly head of Tom Yeager.</p> + +<p>"This here ship's company offers to do the square thing, share and share +alike, cap'n," boomed out the boatswain. "We wants a bit of that there +treasure, and by Moses! we're going to have it. But we don't want no +bloodshed, cap'n."</p> + +<p>"Then get back to duty in a hurry, my man!"</p> + +<p>George Fleming spoke up.</p> + +<p>"Give us that map and we'll put your party ashore safe, sir."</p> + +<p>"I'll see you hung up to dry at my yardarm +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_160" id="pg_160">160</a></span> first! If you want the ship +come and take it, you scurvy scoundrel!"</p> + +<p>It looked like long odds—fourteen to two. I began to wonder if Bothwell +had forgotten us, and I ordered Alderson to unlock the door for a sortie +if one should be necessary.</p> + +<p>Even while I was speaking the rush came. They divided like running water +when it reaches a big rock in midstream. Some of them poured toward us, +the rest made for the bridge. I heard the crack of Sam's rifle, the +rattle of small arms, and then the battle was upon us.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_161" id="pg_161">161</a></span> +<a name="THE_BATTLE_4310" id="THE_BATTLE_4310"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>THE BATTLE</h3> +</div> + +<p>I fired through the window and brought down one fellow while they were +still coming in a huddle toward us. Before I could fire again they were +in the saloon and at close quarters with us.</p> + +<p>To me it seemed that a hundred men were struggling in that narrow, +smoke-filled space. A grimy, black-faced stoker leaped at me and I fired. +I remember beating him over the head with my revolver and that we went +down together in a clinch.</p> + +<p>As I was falling it came over me that the attack was only a feint to +keep us busy. The main body of the mutineers was storming the +wheelhouse.</p> + +<p>When I clambered to my feet I found that our attackers had been routed. +Billie Blue's dirk had put a temporary quietus on my stoker, and the +rest had fled as quickly as they had come.</p> + +<p>"This way!" I shouted, and was out of the door in a jiffy.</p> + +<p>A swarm of men were racing up the steps that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_162" id="pg_162">162</a></span> led to the bridge and the +pilot house. One lay with arms outstretched, face down on the deck. +Another was sliding down the rail of the steps, his face writhing with +pain.</p> + +<p>Our friends were hard pressed. Blythe was keeping the door against a +mob, while Yeager was firing through the window. Twice I saw the +captain's cutlas flash. Then I lost sight of him and I knew that +Bothwell had forced the entrance.</p> + +<p>At the same instant the Arizonian disappeared from the opening which he +had been using as a porthole. I knew that Sam was down and that his +friend had gone to his assistance. My flank attack must have come as a +surprise. The mutineers turned, finding themselves between two fires. We +crowded in on them, and for a time the jam was so thick that none of us +could do much damage.</p> + +<p>Now they fought as desperately to get out of the wheelhouse as they had +a minute earlier to get in. They were in a panic of fear, fancying +themselves trapped.</p> + +<p>I was flung against Bothwell, his furious face so close to mine that the +hot breath filled my nostrils. We tried to grip each other, but in the +huddle we were thrust apart.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the room was no longer full, I could see that the enemy was in +flight. Before I reached +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_163" id="pg_163">163</a></span> the open I knew that the day was won. +Alderson, Billie Blue, and Morgan were pursuing the flying rabble.</p> + +<p>Bothwell, making play with his cutlas against both Blythe and Yeager, +was retreating slowly to the bridge rail. I remember crying out as I ran +toward them.</p> + +<p>Bothwell vaulted over the rail to the deck below. I followed like a +fool, for in the row I had lost my weapons. As I recall it now, Sam +shouted to me to come back. But there was some idiotic notion in my head +that the Russian might run into the reception room with his fellows and +get possession of the women.</p> + +<p>Instead, he turned and slashed at me. The blow would have carved my head +had not I dodged. At that I received a nasty swipe in the arm. It was +not possible to stop. All I could do was to slip past him and continue +running.</p> + +<p>George Fleming had stopped at the head of the stairway to the main deck. +He leveled a pistol and waited for me. Bothwell was at my heels. I was +between the devil and the deep sea.</p> + +<p>"We've got him!" the Russian cried.</p> + +<p>I swung in behind one of the boats which lay under a tarpaulin near the +edge of the deck. Simultaneously I heard the engineer's gun crack. No +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_164" id="pg_164">164</a></span> +rabbit could have clambered around the boat quicker than <i>I</i>. Bothwell +had doubled back and was charging me. His whistling cutlas hissed down +not an inch from my ear and ripped through the tarpaulin to bury the +blade in the wood of the bow.</p> + +<p>I scudded back toward the bridge, my enemy in full chase.</p> + +<p>Every instant I expected to feel the slash of his blade between my +shoulders. It seemed to me that my leaden feet clung to the planks, that +a toddling child could do that stretch to safety quicker than I was +doing it.</p> + +<p>As I ran the deck began to tilt dizzily. Before my eyes there spread a +haze. All grew black even while my feet still automatically moved.</p> + +<p>"Badly hurt, old man?"</p> + +<p>The voice came to me from a great distance. With returning consciousness +I found that the strong arm of its owner was supporting my head and +shoulders. My eyes looked into those of our captain.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Jack," he explained. "We got to you just as you fell +and Tom drove that villain back. How badly cut are you?"</p> + +<p>"A glancing cut, I think. But I'm a bit dizzy? We beat them, didn't +we?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_165" id="pg_165">165</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. The rats have scuttled back to their holes."</p> + +<p>He helped me into the reception room and I sank down on the lounge.</p> + +<p>"Just a bit light-headed," I explained to Yeager, who came in at that +moment.</p> + +<p>"Glad it's no worse. We gave them a drubbing, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Get Bothwell?" asked Sam.</p> + +<p>"Nope. My gun was empty. I had him at the foot of the ladder, not ten +feet from the muzzle, and <i>click</i>—nothing doing. The beggar turned and +laughed in my face."</p> + +<p>"Keep a lookout, Alderson," the captain ordered, while he unbuttoned my +coat. "Tom, you'd better take a look around and size up the damage."</p> + +<p>"Mott is dead. I found his body in the cabin," I told our chief.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid of it. With Mott gone and Dugan wounded we were short two +men at the beginning of the scrimmage. Eight to fourteen—devilish long +odds. Easy with that sleeve there. Here you, Billie Blue, get me a +sponge and a basin of water. And tell Miss Wallace to bring her sticking +plaster."</p> + +<p>Morgan, very white, was sitting on the opposite lounge trying to stop +with a handkerchief the blood +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_166" id="pg_166">166</a></span> from a scalp wound. From where I lay I +could see the body of Williams just outside the saloon. A stray bullet +from one of the retreating mutineers had killed him at the very close of +the battle.</p> + +<p>Altogether that left us five sound men, counting Blue as a man, and +three wounded ones. The pirates had suffered more. One I had disposed of +at the first rush, just before they reached the cabin, and the flunky +had wounded one of the firemen.</p> + +<p>Yeager had picked off Johnson in the run for the bridge, and Sam had +wounded Caine. In addition to these at least two more had been blooded +in the scrimmage at close quarters outside the wheelhouse.</p> + +<p>"Eight of them left against five of us, not counting the wounded on +either side," Yeager summed up.</p> + +<p>"What has become of Philips?" I asked, remembering that I had not seen +him since the row began.</p> + +<p>"Thought I saw him run down stairs when the beggars poured in on us +here, sir," Alderson answered.</p> + +<p>Later the poor fellow was found in his berth, trembling like an aspen +leaf. He had locked his door and buried his face in the pillows.</p> + +<p>A shock of red hair above a very white face appeared +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_167" id="pg_167">167</a></span> at the head of the +companionway. "Is—is it all over?" gasped a small voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jimmie, right now it is. And you'll notice that we're still +sticking to the saddle, son, and not pulling leather either," observed +the plainsman cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"I—I didn't know it would be like this," murmured the boy. "I +thought——" His voice tailed out and he dropped limply into a seat, his +fascinated eyes fixed on my bleeding arm.</p> + +<p>Yeager clasped a hand on the boy's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Brace up, kid. The first round is ours, strong. We've had to hustle, +but I reckon we've given them a hectic time of it. They'll not bother us +for quite some hours. Captain Bothwell is busy explaining to a real sore +outfit just why his plans miscarried."</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Sedgwick—killed?" asked the boy, swallowing hard.</p> + +<p>I laughed faintly.</p> + +<p>"He's worth a dozen dead men yet, Jimmie."</p> + +<p>And to prove it I fell back among the pillows, unconscious.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_168" id="pg_168">168</a></span> +<a name="THE_MORNING_AFTER_4497" id="THE_MORNING_AFTER_4497"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>THE MORNING AFTER</h3> +</div> + +<p>My opening eyes fell upon Evelyn. She was putting the last touches to +the bandage on my arm, which was already dressed and bound. Evidently I +had been unconscious some time.</p> + +<p>"It's all right. We won," were my first words to her.</p> + +<p>"I know," she answered with a faint glow of color. "Thanks to the brave +men who risked their lives for us!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Williams was killed, and Morgan was hurt. Has his wound been +looked to?"</p> + +<p>"On the job now," sang out Yeager. "When I get through with him he'll be +as good as new. Eh, Morgan?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," returned that impassive individual.</p> + +<p>"Where's Sam?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Back at the wheel."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Alderson is with him. Don't worry about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_169" id="pg_169">169</a></span> them. You couldn't dynamite +that bunch of pirates on deck just now. There'll be nothing doing until +they get Dutch courage from the bottle. We jolted them a heap harder +than they did us," Tom rejoined lightly.</p> + +<p>It was all very well for him to keep up his cheerful talk to raise the +spirits of our friends, but I did not forget the fact that since the +beginning of hostilities we had lost as many men as they had in killed, +and only one less in wounded. To be sure, with the exception of Dugan, +their disabled were in worse condition than ours. Morgan had only a +scratch, and a day or two of rest would set me right.</p> + +<p>"Time is fighting for us too, you bet," continued Tom briskly. "We're a +unit, and I'll bet they're pulling already every which way. We've got +them traveling south, Miss Wallace."</p> + +<p>Perhaps his cheerful, matter-of-fact talk was the best possible tonic +for the depression which had settled upon us. I could not help think +what a blessing it was that we had picked up at Los Angeles this +competent frontiersman whose strong, brown hands could make or dress a +wound with equal skill.</p> + +<p>It was plain to me that during the next few hours I would not be of much +use. Out of ten +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_170" id="pg_170">170</a></span> thousand, Tom Yeager was the one I would have picked to +take charge of the defense in my absence.</p> + +<p>When a few minutes later the beat of the screw began again the sound of +it was like wine to me. It meant that, for the present, the mutineers +had had enough. They would join in a tacit truce while the yacht was +being worked south.</p> + +<p>"Help Mr. Sedgwick down to his cabin, Morgan, and then both of you turn +in for a few hours' sleep. We'll look out for trouble. Won't we, Jimmie? +You and I and Billie Blue, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Yeager."</p> + +<p>"You'll call us if another attack threatens?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>The steady <i>throb—throb—throb</i> of the propeller was again shaking the +yacht as she took up her journey. This might be a ruse to throw us off +our guard, but I did not think so. The enemy was badly demoralized, and +the chances were that Bothwell would welcome a chance to whip his forces +into shape again.</p> + +<p>"Is the door from the galley to the main deck locked and nailed up, +Billie?" I asked of the flunky.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Nail planks across the window too. Philips will +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_171" id="pg_171">171</a></span> help you get dinner if +you can find him. I'll expect you to see that our party is well fed."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," the young fellow promised.</p> + +<p>"You must go to your room at a moment's notice, Miss Wallace. Have +Philips nail up your porthole. You need not be a bit afraid. We hold a +very safe position at present. Get all the sleep you can to-night."</p> + +<p>"That's good advice, Mr. Sedgwick. Take it yourself," she returned with +a little flicker of a wan smile.</p> + +<p>For an instant her hand, warm and firm, rested in mine. If I had not +been sure of my love before, there was no uncertainty now. While her +brave eyes met mine I seemed to drown fathoms deep in the blue of them. +Trouble was what I read in them, but part of that trouble was for me. I +gloried in that certainty.</p> + +<p>She might not love me—it was presumptuous to suppose she did—but at +least I held a place in her regard. That was the thought I carried with +me down-stairs, and it stayed pleasantly with me till I fell asleep in +spite of the pain in my arm.</p> + +<p>About nine o'clock I was awakened by a knock on the door. Philips had +brought me dinner on a tray.</p> + +<p>His eye would not meet mine. He was ashamed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_172" id="pg_172">172</a></span> because he had shown the +white feather in the scrimmage.</p> + +<p>"I—I've got a wife and three little children, sir," he blurted out +before he left.</p> + +<p>I nodded pleasantly at him.</p> + +<p>"You're going to see them again. But you must help us beat those +ruffians. You see we can do it. We've done it once."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I—hope to do better next time."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you will, Philips."</p> + +<p>We shook hands on it.</p> + +<p>I must have fallen asleep again almost immediately. When I opened my +eyes it was day. I pushed the electric bell. Philips presently appeared.</p> + +<p>"All well?" I asked him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. No more trouble. The yacht is still on her course. Doing +about nine knots I should judge."</p> + +<p>"Heard from Dugan this morning?"</p> + +<p>"He isn't doing just what you could call first rate, sir. I think he is +delirious. Miss Wallace and Miss Berry are taking care of him by turns."</p> + +<p>"And Morgan?"</p> + +<p>"Quite all right, sir. Your arm must be stiff. Shall I shave you this +morning? I used to be a barber, sir." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_173" id="pg_173">173</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thanks. If you have time."</p> + +<p>Breakfast was served in the English fashion, for it was necessary to +keep some one on guard all the time. The Arizonian was making play with +a platter of bacon and fried eggs when I joined him.</p> + +<p>"How d'ye do? Ready for the round-up again?" he asked cheerfully, with +his mouth full.</p> + +<p>"My arm's stiff, and when I move there's a pain jumps in it. Otherwise +I'm fit as a fiddle. Anything new in the way of trouble?"</p> + +<p>"Not a thing. We've arranged a code of signals with our friends at the +wheel. You'll find the code pasted up in the saloon. Say, what do you +think? That girl slipped out with breakfast for Cap. Blythe and Alderson +while I wasn't looking."</p> + +<p>"Crossed the deck with it?"</p> + +<p>"That's whatever, and sauntered back as cool as you please. Two or three +of them were on the forecastle deck, but they didn't lift a hand to hurt +her."</p> + +<p>I drew a long breath.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't let her do it again."</p> + +<p>"Not while I'm in the game. She's an ace-high trump just the same. +Wonder if she would have any use for a maverick rancher from the alkali +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_174" id="pg_174">174</a></span> +country? I got a pretty good outfit in the Flying D."</p> + +<p>"Better ask her."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to," he answered coolly. "Drift that butter down this way, +will you?"</p> + +<p>"Where is she now?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Not up yet. She took a two-hour turn watching while we slept. Then she +sat by Dugan for a while. You'd ought to have seen her at the piano +singing 'My Maryland' and 'Dixie' to us just as if she had starred in a +mutiny every week of her life. She was doing it for what they call the +moral effect, and it sure did keep up the nerve of the boys. I could see +Jimmie and Billie get real gay again. Used to live in Tennessee, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Jimmie or Billie?" I asked innocently.</p> + +<p>"You know who I mean all right, you old son of a gun. Try this bacon. +It's the genuine guaranteed article. That Billie boy is some cook. Seems +her mother was a Southerner before Wallace married her."</p> + +<p>"What was she afterward?"</p> + +<p>"My, you're a humorist! Say, do you reckon that little bald spot on the +crown of my haid would be objectionable to her? I've never monkeyed with +these here hair tonics, but I'd be willing to take a whirl at them." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_175" id="pg_175">175</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here she comes now. You can ask her."</p> + +<p>"Did you sleep well?" the young woman asked, after we had exchanged +morning greetings.</p> + +<p>"Clear round the clock and then some more. You must have had a fine +night's rest yourself from what I hear. On watch till one, and nursing +Dugan <i>from</i> one. Wasn't that about it?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite. I had three hours' sleep. Is your arm paining you much?"</p> + +<p>"Don't waste any sympathy on him, Miss Evelyn," the cowman interrupted. +"His arm's just as good as a new wooden one, and his repartee is as +sharp as the cutlas that broke the skin on it."</p> + +<p>She smiled as she began on her grapefruit. "Are you boys quarreling?"</p> + +<p>"He hasn't had time to quarrel. He has been making a dreary waste of +what was once a platter of eggs and bacon."</p> + +<p>"Now I like that," Tom protested.</p> + +<p>"So I judge. Never mind, Miss Wallace. Billie can cook you some more."</p> + +<p>"Who is on guard?" Evelyn asked.</p> + +<p>"The kid. He's a scout for fair too; imagines he's Apache Jim, the +terror of the Navajos, or some other paper-backed hero. I hope his gun +won't go off and shoot him up."</p> + +<p>We made a lively breakfast of it till Yeager had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_176" id="pg_176">176</a></span> to leave. You may +think it strange that we could laugh and jest on that death ship, but +one gets accustomed to the strain and on the reflex from anxiety arrives +at a temporary gaiety.</p> + +<p>After the cattleman had taken his breezy departure a constraint fell +upon us. Evelyn's eyes were shy, and mine not a great deal bolder. +Yesterday we could have chatted away with the most delightful freedom; +to-day we were confined to the veriest commonplaces.</p> + +<p>And all because our eyes had met for one long instant the evening before +and hinted at something in the unspoken language of young people the +world over.</p> + +<p>The arrival of Jimmie Welch with a very robust appetite helped things a +good deal, and we were presently ourselves again. After breakfast Miss +Wallace went to relieve her aunt at the bedside of the wounded carpenter +while I mounted to the bridge to take Blythe's place, Tom doing the same +for Alderson.</p> + +<p>It struck me as a piece of grim satire that I should be ringing orders +down to the men in the engine room with whom a few hours before we had +been battling for life, and probably soon would be again.</p> + +<p>It was beyond doubt that we would have to measure +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_177" id="pg_177">177</a></span> strength with them a +second time. Bothwell would never let us run into port at Panama if he +could help it. The men were probably not anxious for another brush after +the drubbing they had received, but the situation forced their hands. +They must either take the ship or let us give them up to the authorities +as mutineers.</p> + +<p>My opinion is that if Bothwell had not been recognized by Jimmie he +would have waited until we were actually on the treasure ground, and +perhaps even until we had lifted it.</p> + +<p>From the sounds that came forward to us from the forecastle it was plain +that the enemy were drinking pretty steadily. More than once I saw an +empty bottle flung through a porthole into the sea. Occasionally some +one appeared on the deck aft, and from the drunken shouts bawled up and +down the hatchway the condition of the crew could be guessed.</p> + +<p>Blythe and I agreed that this probably meant an attack after darkness +had fallen. Fortified by the courage which comes from whisky, they would +try and slip up on us in the night and win by a surprise.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_178" id="pg_178">178</a></span> +<a name="THE_NIGHT_ATTACK_4776" id="THE_NIGHT_ATTACK_4776"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>THE NIGHT ATTACK</h3> +</div> + +<p>The captain and I were in the wheelhouse when the attack came. It must +have been an hour past midnight of a gentle starry night, without the +faintest breath of wind in the air. Ever since dark the vibration of the +propeller had ceased.</p> + +<p>No doubt the charge was intended for a surprise, but we had half a +minute of warning. Dimly I could make out figures moving tiptoe at the +head of the stairway. Three times I flashed a lantern in signal to our +friends. Almost simultaneously came the rush along the deck.</p> + +<p>This time they took cover as they advanced, scattering like a covey of +young quail. One dropped behind a boat here, another there. Some +crouched close to the deckhouse. Bullets sang about our ears from +invisible foes.</p> + +<p>It looked as if their intention was to pick us off without exposing +themselves. The thing could be done too. For a rifle ball would tear +through the flimsy woodwork of our shelter as if it had been paper. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_179" id="pg_179">179</a></span></p> + +<p>"We've got to get out of here," I told my friend.</p> + +<p>"Confound it, yes. But where shall we go?"</p> + +<p>"What's that? Listen, Sam."</p> + +<p>From below and to the left of us there came a sound as of some one +moving. We could hear stealthy voices in animated whisper.</p> + +<p>"I see their game," Blythe murmured in my ear. "Those fellows on deck +are to keep us busy pot-shotting us while the rest climb up from below +and close with us when we're not looking."</p> + +<p>A bullet zipped through a window and left a little round hole. It must +have passed between our heads.</p> + +<p>"Hot work," said the Englishman coolly, putting down his rifle and +taking up a revolver and a cutlas. "We'd better sally out and have a +look at the gentlemen who are climbing up the stanchions. You take that +side and I'll take this."</p> + +<p>We were not a moment too soon. As I peered over the bridge rail an +outstretched hand was reaching for a hold. Instantly it was withdrawn. +The moonlight poured like a spotlight on the uplifted face of the sailor +Neidlinger. Never have I seen a look more expressive of stupid, baffled +surprise. His mouth was open, his eyes popping. But when I made a motion +to aim my revolver he slid down +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_180" id="pg_180">180</a></span> the stanchion with a rush, knocking +over the fellow supporting him from below.</p> + +<p>I paid no more attention to him, for the feet of those who had been +shooting at us were already scurrying forward.</p> + +<p>"Blythe," I called in warning.</p> + +<p>But the captain was engaged with a mutineer who had climbed up in the +way Neidlinger had attempted. A second man—and I saw in an instant that +it was Caine—was astride the rail on his way to support the first. Half +way over he had stopped to take a shot at Sam.</p> + +<p>I fired from my hip without waiting to take aim. It was the luckiest +shot of my life. The boatswain's shoulders sagged, his fingers relaxed +so that the weapon clattered on the floor, and slowly his figure swayed +outward. There was no grip to his knees. He toppled overboard, head +first. I heard the plop as his body dived into the sea.</p> + +<p>Blythe cut down his man at the same instant.</p> + +<p>"Back to the wheelhouse," I shouted.</p> + +<p>We were barely in time. They came crowding in on us pell-mell. We had +already switched off the light. Now the lantern was dashed to pieces by +trampling heels.</p> + +<p>I was flung back against the wheel and the revolver knocked from my +hand. Sinewy fingers +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_181" id="pg_181">181</a></span> gripped my throat and forced me down until I +thought my back would break. Close to my ear a gun exploded. The +pressure on my jugular relaxed instantly. The body of my opponent sank +slowly to the floor and lay there limp.</p> + +<p>I took a long breath, leaped across the prostrate figure, and flung +myself upon another. We struggled. I became aware that we had the room +to ourselves. The others were fighting outside.</p> + +<p>The vessel had fallen into the trough of the waves. In one of its +lurches the moon flooded the place with light.</p> + +<p>"Sam!" I cried, and he "Jack!"</p> + +<p>In the darkness we had mistaken each other for the enemy.</p> + +<p>Catching up a cutlas I followed him into the open. Our friends had come +and gone again. To say that they were going would be more accurate. For +they were now in full flight, the pack of wolves in chase.</p> + +<p>A few moments earlier and we might have saved the day. Now we could only +pursue the pursuers.</p> + +<p>Blythe leaped down the steps, revolver in hand. I followed, but my foot +caught on a body lying at the foot of the ladder. A hand caught my coat.</p> + +<p>"Gimme a lift, partner," asked a voice. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_182" id="pg_182">182</a></span></p> + +<p>"You, Tom?" I cried, helping him up. "Hurt, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Knocked in the head. A bit groggy. That's all."</p> + +<p>The delay made me a witness rather than an actor in the dénouement. Our +friends had disappeared within the saloon and slammed the door. The +foremost mutineer reached it, tried the handle, and threw his weight +against the panels. The others came to his assistance. A revolver shot +through the door dropped one of them. The others fell back at once.</p> + +<p>They met Blythe. A stoker swung a cutlas and rushed for him. Full in the +forehead a bullet from the captain's revolver crashed into his brain. +Like a football tackler the body plunged forward to Sam's feet.</p> + +<p>For a moment nobody moved or spoke. Then,</p> + +<p>"My God!" groaned Henry Fleming.</p> + +<p>I cannot account for it. These men had been brave enough in the thick of +the fight while facing numbers not so very inferior to their own. But +now, standing there three to one, it seemed as if some wave of horror +sickened them at sight of the lifeless body plunging along the deck.</p> + +<p>They stood there with eyes distended, while +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_183" id="pg_183">183</a></span> Blythe, grimly erect, faced +them as motionless as a statue.</p> + +<p>"Gawd, I've 'ad enough," the cook gasped, and got his fat bulk to the +stairway with incredible swiftness.</p> + +<p>The others were at his heel, fighting for the first chance down.</p> + +<p>A bullet clipped the deck in front of me. I looked up hastily to see +Bothwell's malevolent face in the wheelhouse window.</p> + +<p>"Turn about, Mr. Sedgwick," he jeered, and let fly again.</p> + +<p>Half dragging him with me, I got Yeager into the shadow.</p> + +<p>"Got a revolver?" I whispered.</p> + +<p>"Yes." He felt for it in the darkness. "Damn! I must 'a dropped it when +Bothwell hit me over the coconut."</p> + +<p>"Are you good for a run to the saloon? He'll pick us off just as soon as +the moon comes out from behind that cloud."</p> + +<p>A bullet took a splinter from the rail beside me.</p> + +<p>"We'd better toddle," agreed the cattleman. "Go ahead."</p> + +<p>I scudded for safety, Yeager at my heels. We reached the door of the +saloon just as the captain did. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_184" id="pg_184">184</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let us in. Captain Blythe and friends," I cried, hammering on a panel.</p> + +<p>Some one unlocked the door. It was Dugan.</p> + +<p>"You here?" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I heard the shooting and came up just in time to lock the +door on Mack. Think I wounded him through the door afterward, sir."</p> + +<p>"Any of our men short?" Blythe asked quickly, glancing around with the +keen, quiet eye of a soldier.</p> + +<p>Alderson spoke up.</p> + +<p>"Fleming cut Blue down as we tried to force the steps, sir."</p> + +<p>"Killed him, you think?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt of it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Any more lost?"</p> + +<p>We did not notice it till a few minutes later, but little Jimmie Welch +was missing. None of us was seriously wounded in the scrimmage, though +nearly all had marks to show. Even Philips had a testimonial of valor in +the form of a badly swollen eye.</p> + +<p>"They've suffered more than we have. Check up, my men. Mack, dead or +badly wounded, shot by Dugan. Can you name any, Alderson?"</p> + +<p>"Only Sutton, sir, that you killed out here. There was a man lying on +the bridge when we got there. Don't know who, sir." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_185" id="pg_185">185</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tot Dennis," answered Blythe, who had cut him down at the same time +when I disposed of the boatswain.</p> + +<p>I mentioned Caine.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you finish another in the wheelhouse, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't. You did."</p> + +<p>The captain shook his head.</p> + +<p>"You're wrong about that. Must have been you."</p> + +<p>This puzzled me at the time, but we learned later that the man—he +turned out to be the stoker Billie Blue had dirked in the first +fight—had been killed by an unexpected ally who joined us later.</p> + +<p>"Counting Mack, they've lost five to our one," Sam summed up.</p> + +<p>"Hope they've got a bellyful by this time," I said bitterly.</p> + +<p>"They've won the wheel—for the present. But that's unimportant. +Bothwell can't hold it. We'll starve him out. Practically it's our +fight."</p> + +<p>What our captain said was quite true. Even if Bothwell could have solved +the food problem and the question of sleep, he dared not leave his +allies too long alone for fear they might make terms and surrender.</p> + +<p>For we had beaten them again. They had left +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_186" id="pg_186">186</a></span> now only seven men (not +counting Mack), at least two of whom were wounded. This was exactly the +same number that we had. Whereas the odds had been against us, now they +were very much in our favor when one considered morale and quality.</p> + +<p>At Blythe's words we raised a cheer. I have heard heartier ones, for we +were pretty badly battered up. But that cheer—so we heard later—put +the final touch to the depression of the mutineers.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sedgwick, will you kindly step down-stairs and notify the ladies +that the day is ours? Get me some water, Morgan, and I'll take a look at +Mr. Yeager's head. Philips, find Jimmie. Alderson, will you keep guard +for the present? You'd better get back to bed, Dugan. I want to say that +each one of you deserves a medal. If the treasure is ever found I +promise, on behalf of Miss Wallace, that every honest man shall share in +it."</p> + +<p>At this there was a second cheer and we scattered to obey orders.</p> + +<p>When I knocked on the door of Miss Wallace's stateroom a shaky voice +answered.</p> + +<p>"Who is there?"</p> + +<p>"It is I—Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>The door opened. Evelyn, very pale, was standing before me with a little +revolver in her hand. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_187" id="pg_187">187</a></span> She wore a kind of kimono of some gray stuff, +loose about the beautifully modeled throat, in which just now a pulse +was beating fast. Sandals were on her feet, and from beneath the gown +her toes peeped.</p> + +<p>"What is it? Tell me," she breathed in a whisper, her finger on her +lips.</p> + +<p>I judged that her aunt had slept through the noise of the firing.</p> + +<p>"They attacked us on the bridge again. We had the best of it."</p> + +<p>"Is anybody—hurt?" she asked tremulously.</p> + +<p>"Five of them have been killed or badly wounded. We lost Billie Blue, +poor fellow."</p> + +<p>"Dead?" her white lips framed.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so."</p> + +<p>"Nobody else?"</p> + +<p>I hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Little Jimmie is missing. We are afraid——"</p> + +<p>Tears filled her eyes and brimmed over.</p> + +<p>"Poor Jimmie!"</p> + +<p>I'll not swear that the back of my eyes did not scorch with hot tears +too. I thought of the likable little Arab, red-headed, freckled and +homely, and I blamed myself bitterly that I had ever let him rejoin us +at Los Angeles.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't have come if it hadn't been for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_188" id="pg_188">188</a></span> me. I asked you to let +him," the young woman reproached herself.</p> + +<p>"It isn't your fault. You meant it for the best."</p> + +<p>Of a sudden she turned half from me and leaned against the door-jamb, +covering her face with her hands. She was sobbing very softly.</p> + +<p>I put my arm across her shoulders and petted her awkwardly. Presently +she crowded back the sobs and whispered brokenly, not to me, but as a +relief to her surcharged feelings.</p> + +<p>"This dreadful ship of death! This dreadful ship! Why did I ever lead +true men to their deaths for that wicked treasure?"</p> + +<p>I do not know how it happened, but in her wretchedness the girl swayed +toward me ever so slightly. My arms went round her protectingly. For an +instant her body came to me in sweet surrender, the soft curves of her +supple figure relaxed in weariness. Then she pushed me from her gently.</p> + +<p>"Not now—not now."</p> + +<p>I faced a closed door, but as I went up the companionway with elastic +heels my heart sang jubilantly.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_189" id="pg_189">189</a></span> +<a name="A_TASTE_OF_THE_INQUISITION_5090" id="A_TASTE_OF_THE_INQUISITION_5090"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>A TASTE OF THE INQUISITION</h3> +</div> + +<p>It could have been no more than five minutes after I left her that +Evelyn followed me to the upper deck saloon. Yet in the interval her +nimble fingers had found time to garb her in a simple blue princess +dress she had found near to her hand.</p> + +<p>Without looking at me she went straight to Blythe, who was sponging the +wrist of Alderson.</p> + +<p>"You'll let me help, won't you?" she asked, with such sweet simplicity +that I fell fathoms deeper in love.</p> + +<p>"Of course. You're our chief surgeon. Eh, Alderson?"</p> + +<p>The sailor grinned. Though he was a little embarrassed he was grateful +for the addition to the staff.</p> + +<p>After they had finished I brought her water to wash her hands. For the +first time since she had entered the room our gaze met.</p> + +<p>Braver eyes no woman ever had, but the thick lashes fluttered down now +and a wave of pink beat +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_190" id="pg_190">190</a></span> into her cheeks. Moved as she was by a touch of +shy confusion, the oval of her face stirred delicately as if with the +spirit of fire, she seemed a very blush rose, a creature of so fine a +beauty as to stir a momentary fear.</p> + +<p>But I knew her to be strong, even if slight, and abrim with health. When +she walked away with that supple, feathered tread of hers, so firm and +yet so light, the vitality of her physique reasserted itself.</p> + +<p>"Some one slipping this way in the shadows, Captain Blythe," spoke up +Morgan, who was on guard.</p> + +<p>Sam had been reloading his revolver. At once he stepped to the door.</p> + +<p>"Who goes there? Hands up! I have you covered. Move forward into the +light. Oh, it's you, Smith! What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I've come to give myself up, sir. I'm sick of it. Very likely you won't +believe me, sir, but I joined under compulsion to save my life. I didn't +dare leave them so long as Captain Bothwell——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Mr.</i> Bothwell," corrected Blythe sharply.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bothwell, sir, I meant. He watched me as if I were a prisoner."</p> + +<p>"I think I noticed you on my bridge with a revolver +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_191" id="pg_191">191</a></span> in your hand," the +Englishman told him dryly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. But I fired in the air, except once when I shot the fireman +who was killing Mr. Sedgwick over the wheel."</p> + +<p>I turned in astonishment to Blythe.</p> + +<p>"That explains it. Some one certainly saved me. If you didn't it must +have been Smith."</p> + +<p>"That's one point to your credit," Blythe admitted. "So now you want to +be an honest man?"</p> + +<p>"I always have been at heart, sir. I had no chance to come before. They +kept me unarmed except during the fighting."</p> + +<p>His head bandaged with a blood-soaked bandanna, his face unshaven and +bloodstained, Smith was a sorry enough sight. But his eye met the +captain's fairly. I don't think it occurred to any of us seriously to +doubt him.</p> + +<p>Sam laughed grimly.</p> + +<p>"You look the worse for the wars, my friend."</p> + +<p>Smith put his hand to the bound head and looked at the captain +reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Your cutlas did it at the pilot-house, sir."</p> + +<p>"You should be more careful of the company you keep, my man."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I did try to slip away once, but they brought me back." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_192" id="pg_192">192</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me look at your head. Perhaps I can do something for it," Evelyn +suggested to the sailor.</p> + +<p>While she prepared the dressings I put the question to Smith.</p> + +<p>"Jimmie. Oh, yes, sir. He's down in the f'c'sle. Gallagher ran across +him and took him down there."</p> + +<p>This was good news, the best I had heard since the mutiny began. It +seemed that the boy had slipped out to get a shot at the enemy, and that +his escape had been cut off by the men returning from the attack.</p> + +<p>Judging from what Smith said the men were very down-hearted and in +vicious spirits. They were ready to bite at the first hand in reach, +after the manner of trapped coyotes.</p> + +<p>"How many of them are there?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Let's see. There's the two Flemings, sir, and Gallagher, and the cook, +and Neidlinger, and Mack, but he won't last long."</p> + +<p>"Do you think they're likely to hurt the boy?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless they get to drinking, sir. They want him for a hostage. But +there has been a lot of drinking. You can't tell what they will do when +they're in liquor."</p> + +<p>I came to an impulsive decision. We couldn't leave Jimmie to his fate. +The men were ready +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_193" id="pg_193">193</a></span> to give up the fight if the thing could be put to +them right. The time to strike was now, in the absence of Bothwell, +while they were out of heart at their failure.</p> + +<p>Why shouldn't I go down into the forecastle and see what could be done? +That there was some danger in it could not be denied, but not nearly so +much as if the Russian had been down there.</p> + +<p>I was an officer of the ship, and though that would have helped me +little if they had been sure of victory it would have a good deal of +weight now.</p> + +<p>Blythe would, I knew, forbid me to go. Therefore I did not ask him. But +I took Yeager aside and told him what I intended.</p> + +<p>"I'll likely be back in half an hour, perhaps less. I don't want you to +tell Sam unless he has to know. Don't let him risk defeat by attempting +a rescue in case I don't show up. Tell him I'm playing off my own bat. +That's a bit of English slang he'll understand."</p> + +<p>"Say! Let me go too," urged the cattleman, his eyes glistening.</p> + +<p>"No. We can't go in force. I'm not even going to take a weapon. That +would queer the whole thing. It's purely a moral and not a physical +argument I'm making." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_194" id="pg_194">194</a></span></p> + +<p>He did not want to see it that way, but in the end he grumblingly +assented, especially when I put it to him that he must stay and keep an +eye on Bothwell.</p> + +<p>While Blythe was down in his cabin getting a shave I watched my chance +and slipped down to the main deck. Cautiously I ventured into the +forecastle, tiptoeing down the ladder without noise.</p> + +<p>"Dead as a door nail. That makes seven gone to Davy Jones's locker," I +heard a despondent voice say.</p> + +<p>"'E could sing a good song, Mack could, and 'e carried 'is liquor like a +man, but that didn't 'elp 'im from being shot down like a dog. It'll be +that wye with us next."</p> + +<p>"Stow that drivel, cookie," growled a voice which I recognized as +belonging to the older Fleming. "You're nice, cheerful company for +devils down on their luck. Ain't things bad enough without you croaking +like a sky pilot?"</p> + +<p>"That's wot I say, says I; we'll all croak before this blyme row is +over," Higgins prophesied.</p> + +<p>I sauntered forward with my hands in my pockets.</p> + +<p>"Looks that way, doesn't it? Truth is, you've made a mess of it from +first to last. Whichever way you look at it the future is devilishly +unpleasant. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_195" id="pg_195">195</a></span> Even if you live to be hanged—which isn't at all +likely—one can't call it a cheerful end."</p> + +<p>Conceive, if you can, a more surprised lot of ruffians than these. They +leaped to their feet and stared at me in astonishment. I'll swear four +revolvers jumped to sight while one could bat an eyelid.</p> + +<p>I leaned on the edge of the table and gave them the most care-free grin +I could summon. All the time I was wondering whether some fool would +perhaps blaze away at me and do his thinking afterward.</p> + +<p>"How did you get down here?" the senior engineer demanded.</p> + +<p>"Walked down. I'm really surprised at you, Fleming. What would Bothwell +think of you? Why, I might have shot half of you before Higgins could +say Jack Robinson."</p> + +<p>It showed how ripe they were for my purpose that at the mention of +Bothwell's name two or three growled curses at him.</p> + +<p>"He got us into this, he did; promised us a fortune if we'd join him," +Gallagher said sulkily.</p> + +<p>"And no blood shed, Mr. Sedgwick. That's wot 'e promised," whined the +cook.</p> + +<p>"Probably he meant none of ours," I explained ironically. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_196" id="pg_196">196</a></span></p> + +<p>"He was going to wait till you'd got the treasure and then put you in a +boat near the coast," Gallagher added.</p> + +<p>Neidlinger spat sulkily at a knot in the floor. His eyes would not meet +mine. It was a fair guess that he was no hardened mutineer, but had been +caught in a net through lack of moral backbone.</p> + +<p>"Afraid Bothwell isn't a very safe man to follow. He's let you be mauled +up pretty badly. I've a notion he'll slip away and leave you to be +hanged without the comfort of his presence."</p> + +<p>"You don't need to rub that in, Mr. Sedgwick," advised George Fleming. +"And perhaps, since you're here, you will explain your business."</p> + +<p>It must be said for George Fleming that at least he was a hardy villain +and no weakling. The men were like weather-vanes. They veered with each +wind that blew.</p> + +<p>"That's right," chimed in Gallagher. "We didn't ask your company. If we +go to hell I shouldn't wonder but you'll travel the road first, sir. +Take a hitch and a half turn on this. We're in the same boat, you and +us. Now you take an oar and pull us out of the rough water, Mr. +Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>I laughed.</p> + +<p>"Not I, Gallagher. You made your own bed, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_197" id="pg_197">197</a></span> and I'm hanged if I'll lie in +it, though I believe it is bad taste to refer to hanging in this +company. <i>I</i> didn't start a little mutiny. <i>I</i> didn't murder as good a +mate as any seaman could ask for. It isn't <i>my</i> fault that a round half +dozen of you are dead and gone to feed the fishes."</p> + +<p>Higgins groaned lugubriously. Neidlinger shifted his feet uneasily. Not +one of them but was impressed.</p> + +<p>Harry Fleming glanced at his brother, cleared his throat, and spoke up.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sedgwick, spit it out. What have you to offer? Will Captain Blythe +let this be a bygone if we return to duty? That's what we want to know. +If not, we've got to fight it out. A blind man could see that."</p> + +<p>I told them the truth, that I had no authority to speak for Blythe. He +would probably think it his duty to give them up to the authorities if +they were still on board when we reached Panama.</p> + +<p>It was pitiful to see how they clutched at every straw of hope.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, what do you mean by that if? Will he stand back and let us +escape?"</p> + +<p>"All of you but Bothwell. Mind, I don't promise this. Why not send a +deputation to the captain and ask for terms?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_198" id="pg_198">198</a></span></p> + +<p>Higgins slapped his fat thigh.</p> + +<p>"By crikey, 'e's said it. A delegation to the captain. That's the +bloomin' ticket."</p> + +<p>Pat to his suggestion came an unexpected and startling answer.</p> + +<p>"Fortunately it won't be necessary to send the delegation, since your +captain has come down to join you."</p> + +<p>The voice was Bothwell's; so, too, were the ironic insolence, the +sardonic smile, the air of contemptuous mastery that sat so lightly on +him. He might be the greatest scoundrel unhanged—and that was a point +upon which I had a decided opinion—but I shall never deny that there +was in him the magnetic force which made him a leader of men.</p> + +<p>Immediately I recognized defeat for my attempt to end the mutiny at a +stroke. His very presence was an inspiration to persistence in evil. For +though he had brought them nothing but disaster, the fellow had a way of +impressing himself without appearing to care whether he did or not.</p> + +<p>The careless contempt of his glance emphasized the difference between +him and them. He was their master, though a fortnight before none of +them had ever seen Bothwell. They feared and accepted his leadership, +even while they distrusted him. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_199" id="pg_199">199</a></span></p> + +<p>The men seemed visibly to stiffen. Instead of beseeching looks I got +threatening ones. Three minutes before I had been dictator; now I was a +prisoner, and if I could read signs one in a very serious situation.</p> + +<p>"I'm waiting for the deputation," suggested Bothwell, his dark eye +passing from one to another and resting on Higgins.</p> + +<p>The unfortunate cook began to perspire.</p> + +<p>"Just our wye of 'aving a little joke, captain," he protested in a +whine.</p> + +<p>"You didn't hear aright, Bothwell. A deputation to the captain was +mentioned," I told him.</p> + +<p>"And I'm captain of this end of the ship, or was at last accounts. +Perhaps Mr. Sedgwick has been elected in my absence," he sneered.</p> + +<p>"You bet he ain't," growled Gallagher.</p> + +<p>"It's a position I should feel obliged to decline. No sinking ship for +me, thank you. I've no notion of trying to be a twentieth century +Captain Kidd. And, by the way, he was hanged, too, wasn't he, captain?"</p> + +<p>"That's a prophecy, I take it. I'll guarantee one thing: You'll not live +to see it fulfilled. You've come to the end of the passage, my friend."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"But before you pass out I've a word to say to you about that map." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_200" id="pg_200">200</a></span></p> + +<p>His eye gave a signal. Before I could stir for resistance even if I had +been so minded, George Fleming and Gallagher pinned my back to the +table. Bothwell stepped forward and looked down at me.</p> + +<p>A second time I glimpsed the Slav behind his veneer of civilization. +Opaque and cruel eyes peered into mine through lids contracted to slits. +Something in me stronger than fear looked back at him steadily.</p> + +<p>His voice was so low that none, I think, except me caught the words. In +his manner was an extraordinary bitterness.</p> + +<p>"You're the rock I've split on from the first. You stole the map from +me—and you tried to steal her. By God, I wipe the slate clean now!"</p> + +<p>"I've only one thing to say to you. I'd like to see you strung up, you +damned villain!" I replied.</p> + +<p>"The last time I asked you for that map your friend from Arizona +blundered in. He's not here now. I'm going to find out all you know. You +think you can defy me. Before I've done with you I'll make you wish +you'd never been born. There are easy deaths and hard ones. You shall +take your choice."</p> + +<p>With that fiend's eyes glittering into mine it was no easy thing to keep +from weakening. I confess +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_201" id="pg_201">201</a></span> it, the blood along my spine was beginning to +freeze. Fortunately I have a face well under control.</p> + +<p>"You have a taste for dramatics, Captain Kidd." I raised my voice so +that all might hear plainly. "You threaten to torture me. You forget +that this is the year 1913. The inquisition is a memory. You are not in +Russia now. American sailors—even mutineers—will draw the line at +torture."</p> + +<p>His face was hard as hammered iron.</p> + +<p>"Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Sedgwick. I'm master here. When I give the +word you will suffer."</p> + +<p>I turned my head and my eyes fell upon Henry Fleming. He had turned +white, shaken to the heart. Beyond him was Neidlinger, and the man was +moistening his gray lips with his tongue. The fat cockney looked +troubled. Plainly they had no stomach for the horrible work that lay +before them if I proved resolute.</p> + +<p>To fight for treasure was one thing, and I suppose that even in this +they had been led to believe that a mere show of force would be +sufficient; to lend their aid to torture an officer of the ship was +quite another and a more sinister affair.</p> + +<p>The Slav in Bothwell had failed to understand the Anglo-Saxon blood with +which he was dealing.</p> + +<p>I faced the man with a dry laugh. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_202" id="pg_202">202</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll see. Begin, you coward!"</p> + +<p>Pinned down to the table as I was, he struck me in the face for that.</p> + +<p>"You lose no time in proving my words true," I jeered.</p> + +<p>An odd mixture is man. Faith, one might have thought Bothwell impervious +to shame, but at my words the fellow flushed. He could not quite forget +that he had once been a gentleman.</p> + +<p>In the way of business he could torture me, wipe me from his path +without a second thought, but on the surface he must live up to the +artificial code his training had imposed upon him.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Mr. Sedgwick. Were there time I would give you +satisfaction for that blow in the customary manner. But time presses. I +shall have to ask you instead to accept my apologies. I have the devil +of a temper."</p> + +<p>"So I judge."</p> + +<p>"It flares like powder. But I must not waste your time in explanations." +From his vest pocket he drew three little cubes of iron. "You still have +time, Mr, Sedgwick. The map!"</p> + +<p>I flushed to the roots of my hair.</p> + +<p>"Never, you Russian devil!"</p> + +<p>He selected the hand pinned down by Fleming, perhaps because he was not +sure that he could trust +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_203" id="pg_203">203</a></span> Gallagher. Between my fingers close to the +roots he slipped the cubes. His fingers fastened over mine and drew the +ends of them together slowly, steadily.</p> + +<p>An excruciating pain shot through me. I set my teeth to keep from +screaming and closed my eyes to hide the anguish in them.</p> + +<p>"You are at liberty to change your mind—and your answer, Mr. Sedgwick," +he announced suavely.</p> + +<p>"You devil from hell!"</p> + +<p>Again I suffered that jagged bolt of pain. It seemed as if my fingers +were being rent asunder at the roots. I could not concentrate my +attention on anything but the physical agony, yet it seems to me now +that Gallagher was muttering a protest across the table.</p> + +<p>Bothwell released my hand. I saw a flash of subtle triumph light his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"A wilful man must have his way, Mr. Sedgwick," he nodded to me, then +whispered in the ear of George Fleming, who at once left the room.</p> + +<p>They pulled me up from the table and seated me in a chair. Bothwell +whistled a bar or two of the sextet from Lucia until he was interrupted +by the entrance of the engineer with Jimmie Welch.</p> + +<p>In a flash I knew what the man meant to do, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_204" id="pg_204">204</a></span> the devilish ingenuity +of it appalled me. He had concluded that I was strung up to endure +anything he might inflict.</p> + +<p>Now he was going to force me to tell what I knew in order to save the +boy from the pain I had myself found almost unendurable.</p> + +<p>What must I do? I beat my wits for a way out. One glance around the room +showed me that the scoundrel's accomplices would not let him go much +further.</p> + +<p>The weak spot in his leadership was that he did not realize the humanity +which still burned in their lost souls. But at what point would they +revolt? I could not let little Jimmie go through the pain I had +undergone.</p> + +<p>The boy gave a sobbing cry of relief when he saw me and tried to break +away to my side. He was flung on the table just as I had been. Gallagher +looked at me imploringly while Bothwell fitted the cubes.</p> + +<p>Neidlinger stole a step nearer. His fingers were working nervously. +Harry Fleming had turned away so as not to see what would follow.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sedgwick, what are they going to do with me?" the frightened little +fellow called in terror.</p> + +<p>Bothwell took the lad's fingers in his. I opened my lips to +surrender—and closed them again. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_205" id="pg_205">205</a></span> Neidlinger had drawn still another +step nearer. The big blond Scandinavian had reached his limit.</p> + +<p>The Slav gave a slight pressure and Jimmie howled. Crouched like a +panther, Neidlinger flung himself upon his chief and bore him back to +the wall. Bothwell, past his first surprise, lashed out with a straight +left and dropped the man.</p> + +<p>Simultaneously Gallagher closed with him, tripping Bothwell so that the +two went down hard together. Neidlinger crawled forward on hands and +knees to help his partner.</p> + +<p>Shaking off the grip of the irresolute men holding me, I was in time to +seize George Fleming, who had run forward to aid the captain.</p> + +<p>From the hatchway a crisp order rang out.</p> + +<p>"Back there, Fleming!"</p> + +<p>I turned. Blythe and Yeager were standing near the foot of the ladder; +behind them Alderson, Smith, Morgan, and Philips. All six were armed. +Their weapons covered the mutineers.</p> + +<p>"Gallagher—Neidlinger, don't release that man. You are prisoners—all +of you," Sam announced curtly.</p> + +<p>Taken by surprise, the two sailors had ceased to struggle with Bothwell. +I could see the master villain's hand slip to the butt of his revolver.</p> + +<p>My foot came down heavily on his wrist and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_206" id="pg_206">206</a></span> fingers fell limp. A +moment, and the revolver was in my hand.</p> + +<p>Bothwell was handcuffed and disarmed before the eyes of his followers, +who in turn had to endure the same ignominy.</p> + +<p>The mutiny on the <i>Argos</i> was quelled at last.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_207" id="pg_207">207</a></span> +<a name="ANCHORED_HEARTS_5574" id="ANCHORED_HEARTS_5574"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>ANCHORED HEARTS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Our rescue had been due to the vigilance of Tom Yeager. He had seen +Bothwell slip down from the bridge and follow me to the forecastle.</p> + +<p>The first impulse of the Arizonian had been to step out and end the +campaign by a fighting finish with the Slav. But second thoughts brought +wiser counsels. Blythe, called hurriedly upstairs, had agreed to his +proposal to try and determine the mutiny at a stroke.</p> + +<p>To both of them it had been clear that Bothwell surrendered the bridge +because he was afraid to let me have a talk with the men alone. That my +life was in great danger neither doubted.</p> + +<p>Swiftly the men had been gathered for the sortie into the forecastle, +Evelyn having volunteered to take the wheel until relieved. The success +of the plan had been beyond the expectations of any.</p> + +<p>Bothwell was the first of the prisoners to speak.</p> + +<p>"Let me offer my congratulations, Captain Blythe," he said with suave +irony. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_208" id="pg_208">208</a></span></p> + +<p>The lean, brown face of the Englishman expressed quiet scorn.</p> + +<p>"Not necessary at all. It is the only result I have considered from the +first. One doesn't expect to be driven from his ship by wharf rats, no +matter how numerous they may be."</p> + +<p>Bothwell laughed, debonair as ever.</p> + +<p>"True enough, captain. My scoundrels made an awful botch of it. They +played a good hand devilish badly or we should have won out."</p> + +<p>"The devil you would! We beat you from first to last at odds against of +two to one nearly. I reckon, Mr. Pirate, you undertook too big a +round-up," grinned the cattleman.</p> + +<p>"Fortunately there is always a to-morrow," retorted Bothwell with a bow.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes it's mortgaged to Jack Ketch."</p> + +<p>"I'll wager he doesn't foreclose, Mr. Yeager," answered Boris with a lip +smile.</p> + +<p>Blythe cut short the repartee.</p> + +<p>"We'll put this man in a stateroom and lock him up, Sedgwick. The rest +will stay here guarded by Alderson. If one of them makes a suspicious +move, shoot him down like a mad dog. Understand, my man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I'll see they make no trouble," Alderson answered +resolutely. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_209" id="pg_209">209</a></span></p> + +<p>I made a suggestion to our captain. After a moment's consideration he +accepted it.</p> + +<p>"Very good, Mr. Sedgwick. Have Gallagher, Neidlinger, and Higgins freed. +See that they clean the ship up till she is fresh as paint."</p> + +<p>The first thing we did was to gather the bodies of the poor fellows who +had fallen in the struggles for the ship. Blythe read the burial service +before we sank the weighted corpses into the sea.</p> + +<p>Under my direction the men then swabbed the decks, washed the woodwork, +and scoured the copper plates until they shone.</p> + +<p>It was not until luncheon that I found time for more than a word with +Evelyn. None of us, I suppose, had suffered more than she and Miss +Berry, but they made it their business to help us forget the nightmare +through which we had lately passed.</p> + +<p>I remember that Miss Wallace looked round from a gay little sally at +Jimmie with a smile in her eyes. I was reaching for some fruit when her +glance fell upon my hand.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with your fingers?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>I withdrew my hand promptly. The flesh was swollen and discolored from +the attentions of Boris Bothwell. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_210" id="pg_210">210</a></span></p> + +<p>"I had a little accident—nothing of importance," was my inadequate +answer.</p> + +<p>Her gaze circled the table, passed from Sam's face to that of Jimmie and +from Jimmie to Higgins, who was waiting on us. She must have read a +confirmation of her intuition of a secret, for she dropped the subject +at once.</p> + +<p>"Jack crushed his hand against a piece of iron," explained the captain.</p> + +<p>At which Miss Evelyn murmured. "Oh!" and inquired how long it would +probably be before we reached the Bay of Panama.</p> + +<p>"Using only our canvas we may reach there to-morrow night, and we may +not. We can't make very good time till we start the engines again," +Blythe said.</p> + +<p>"And when are you going to start them?" Miss Berry asked.</p> + +<p>"Don't quite know. I'm shy of engineers. The only ones I have are on a +vacation," Sam answered with a smile.</p> + +<p>They were not to enjoy one very long, however. About sunset the <i>Argos</i> +began to rock gently on a sea no longer glassy.</p> + +<p>"Cap says we're going to have trouble," Yeager informed me. "When you +get this sultry smell in the air and that queer look in the sky there is +going +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_211" id="pg_211">211</a></span> to be something doing. She's going to begin to buck for fair."</p> + +<p>I noticed that Blythe was taking in sail and that the wind was rising.</p> + +<p>"Knock the irons off the Flemings and send Gallagher down into the +engine room to stoke for them. We'll need more hands. This thing is +going to hit us like a wall of wind soon," he told me.</p> + +<p>When I returned from the forecastle the sea had risen. As I was standing +on the bridge a voice called my name. I looked down to see Evelyn on the +promenade deck in a long, close-fitting waterproof coat, her hair flying +a little wildly in the breeze. In the face upturned to mine was a very +vivid interest.</p> + +<p>"We're in for it. There's going to be a real squall," she cried +delightedly.</p> + +<p>I stepped down and tucked her arm under mine, for the deck was already +tipping in the heavy run of seas.</p> + +<p>Most of our canvas was in, and the booming wind was humming through the +rest with growing power. The <i>Argos</i> put her nose into the whitecaps and +ran like a racer, for the engines were shaking the yacht as she plowed +forward.</p> + +<p>The young woman turned to me an eager, mobile face into which the wind +had whipped a rich color. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_212" id="pg_212">212</a></span></p> + +<p>"What would you take to be somewhere else? Back in your stuffy old law +office, say?"</p> + +<p>The lurch of the staggering yacht threw her forward so that the lithe, +supple body leaned against me and the breath of the dimpling lips was in +my nostrils.</p> + +<p>Just an instant she lay there, with that smile of warm eyes and +rose-leaf mouth to tantalize me, before she recovered and drew back.</p> + +<p>"Not for a thousand dollars a minute," I answered, a trumpet peal of +indomitable happiness ringing in my heart.</p> + +<p>From the wheelhouse Blythe shouted a warning to be careful. His voice +scarcely reached us through the singing of the wind. I nodded and took +hold of the little hand that lay close to mine.</p> + +<p>"You must be a rich man to value the pleasure of the hour so highly," +she answered lightly, with a look quick and questioning at me.</p> + +<p>The squall that had flung itself across the waters hit us in earnest +now. We went down into the yawning troughs before us with drunken +plunges and climbed the glassy hills beyond to be ready for another +dive.</p> + +<p>"The richest man alive if last night was not a dream."</p> + +<p>Our fingers interlaced, palms kissing each other. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_213" id="pg_213">213</a></span></p> + +<p>"Does it seem to you a dream?" she asked, deep in a valley of the seas.</p> + +<p>From the top of the next comber I answered:</p> + +<p>"It did until you joined me here, but now I know you belong to me +forever, both in the land of dreams and waking."</p> + +<p>"Did the storm teach you that?"</p> + +<p>I looked out at the flying scud and back at the storm-bewitched girl +with laughter rippling from her throat and the wild joy of a rare moment +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the storm. It brought you to my arms and your heart to mine."</p> + +<p>"I think it did, Jack; the wee corner of it that was not yours already."</p> + +<p>Her shy eyes fell and I drew her close to me. In the dusk that had +fallen like a cloak over the ship her lips met mine with the sweetest +surrender in the world.</p> + +<p>So in the clamorous storm our hearts found safe anchorage.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_214" id="pg_214">214</a></span> +<a name="SENSE_AND_NONSENSE_5770" id="SENSE_AND_NONSENSE_5770"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>SENSE AND NONSENSE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The squall passed as suddenly as it had swept upon us, and left in its +wake a night of stars and moonbeat.</p> + +<p>Apparently there was no question of returning the mutineers to the irons +from which we had freed them. Alderson, Smith, Neidlinger, and Higgins +were grouped together on the forecastle deck in amiable chat.</p> + +<p>Blythe was still at the wheel, and our cheerful friend from the cattle +country at the piano bawling out the identical chorus I had interrupted +so ruthlessly just before the first blow of the mutiny was struck.</p> + +<p>He was lustily singing as Evelyn and I trod the deck.</p> + +<p>"Tom sings as if with conviction. I hope it may not be deep-rooted," I +laughed.</p> + +<p>"If you mean me——"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean Miss Berry."</p> + +<p>To my surprise she took the words seriously. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_215" id="pg_215">215</a></span></p> + +<p>"It isn't so, Jack. Say it isn't so."</p> + +<p>"Does that mean that it is?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No-o. Only I can't bear to think that our happiness will make anybody +else unhappy."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't appear to be making him unhappy."</p> + +<p>"But he doesn't know—yet."</p> + +<p>"Then he's really serious? I wasn't quite sure."</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>"I wish he wasn't. How girls can like to make men fall in love with them +I can't conceive. He's such a splendid fellow, too."</p> + +<p>"He's a man, every inch of him," I offered by way of comfort. "It won't +hurt him to love a good woman even if he doesn't win her. He'll recover, +but it will do him a lot of good first."</p> + +<p>"Would you feel so complacent if it were you?" she asked slyly, with a +flash of merry eyes.</p> + +<p>We happened to be in the shadow of the smokestack. After the interlude I +expounded my philosophy more at length.</p> + +<p>"He's young yet—at least his heart is. A man has to love a nice girl or +two before he is educated to know the right one when he meets her. I +don't pity Yeager—not a great deal, anyhow. It's life, you know," I +concluded cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see. A man has to love a nice girl or two as an educative +process." Her voice trailed into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_216" id="pg_216">216</a></span> the rising inflection of a question. +"Then the right girl ought to thank me for helping to prepare Mr. Yeager +for her—if I am."</p> + +<p>"That's a point of view worth considering," I assented.</p> + +<p>"But I suppose she will never even know my name," she mused.</p> + +<p>"Most likely not," was my complacent answer.</p> + +<p>Whereupon she let me have her thrust with a little purr of amusement in +her voice.</p> + +<p>"Any more than I shall know what nice girls prepared you for me."</p> + +<p>"<i>Touché</i>," I conceded with a laugh. "I didn't know you were the kind of +young woman that lays traps for a fellow to tumble into."</p> + +<p>"And I didn't know you were a war-worn veteran toughened by previous +campaigns," she countered gaily. "You've been very liberally educated, +didn't you say?"</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't say. This is how I put it to myself: A boy owes something +to the nice girls all about him. One would not like to think, for +instance, that the youths of Tennessee had been so insensible as never +to have felt a flutter when your long lashes drifted their way," I +diplomatically suggested.</p> + +<p>"How nicely you wrap it up," she said with her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_217" id="pg_217">217</a></span> low, soft laugh. "And +must my heart have fluttered, too, for them? Unless it has, I won't be +properly educated for you, shall I?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's the difference. You are born perfect lovers, but we have to +acquire excellence through experience."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>An interjection can sometimes express more than words. My sweetheart's +left me wondering just what she meant. There was amusement in it, but +there was, too, a demure suppression to which I had not the key.</p> + +<p>She, too, I judged, had known a few love episodes in her life. Perhaps +she had been engaged before, as is sometimes the custom among Southern +girls. The thought gave me a queer little stab of pain.</p> + +<p>Yeager came out of the deck pavilion as we passed.</p> + +<p>"I say, let's have some music, good people."</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch.</p> + +<p>"My turn at the wheel. Maybe Blythe will join you."</p> + +<p>He did. From the pilot-house I could hear his clear tenor and Evelyn's +sweet soprano filling the night with music. Presently they drifted into +patriotic songs, in which Tom came out strong if not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_218" id="pg_218">218</a></span> melodious. But +when the piano sounded the notes of "Dixie" Evelyn's voice rose alone, +clear and full-throated as that of a lark.</p> + +<p>After being relieved by Alderson I turned in and slept round the clock. +The tune of drumming engines was in my ears when I woke.</p> + +<p>"Sam is making her walk," I thought, and when I reached the deck I +learned that we had entered the Gulf of Panama. A long, low line showed +dimly in the foggy distance to the left. We were running parallel with +it, Prieto Point directly in front of us.</p> + +<p>With the exception of the older Fleming, who had been transferred to the +same cabin as Bothwell, all the crew were at work. Only the true men, +however, were armed. From the looks cast by the former mutineers toward +the blurred shore line it was plain that they looked forward to Panama +with anxiety.</p> + +<p>In the canal zone, with the flag of the United States flying to the +breeze, the law would give them short shrift. We observed that whenever +their duties permitted it, they drew uneasily together in earnest talk.</p> + +<p>Blythe smiled grimly.</p> + +<p>"Our friends don't like the wages of sin, now that pay day is at hand. +I'll give you two to one, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_219" id="pg_219">219</a></span> Jack, that before an hour is up you'll see a +delegation to the captain."</p> + +<p>He was right. As Sam stepped down from the bridge, having turned the +wheel over to Alderson, he was approached timidly by Neidlinger and +Gallagher. Higgins, in partial payment for his share in the revolt, was +taking a turn at shoveling coal in the stifling furnace room.</p> + +<p>Gallagher touched his hat humbly.</p> + +<p>"We'd like a word with you, Captain Blythe."</p> + +<p>"I thought Bothwell was your captain?"</p> + +<p>The sailor flushed.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. We're through with him."</p> + +<p>"Now that he's a prisoner?" suggested Sam.</p> + +<p>"We wish we'd never let him bamboozle us, sir. It would 'a' been a sight +better for a lot of poor fellows if we'd never seen him. That man's a +devil, sir."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>As he stood there, a lean brown man straight as a ramrod, efficient to +the last inch of him, it struck me that the mutineers would get justice +rather than mercy from our captain.</p> + +<p>The sailor moistened his dry lips and went on.</p> + +<p>"Captain Blythe, we—we're sorry we let ourselves be led +into—into——" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_220" id="pg_220">220</a></span></p> + +<p>Gallagher stumbled for a word. Sam supplied it quietly:</p> + +<p>"Mutiny."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; if you want to put it that way, sir."</p> + +<p>"How else can I put it?"</p> + +<p>"We were led astray by that man Bothwell, sir. He promised there would +be no bloodshed. We're sorry, sir."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it," the Englishman assented dryly.</p> + +<p>"Begging your pardon, sir, we asks to be taken back and punished by you. +Whatever you give us we'll take and not a word out of our heads. Say a +flogging and we'll thank you kindly, sir. But don't turn us over to the +law."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you what would come of it, Gallagher?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; you warned us straight. But that man Bothwell had us +bewitched."</p> + +<p>"If you're taken ashore at Panama you'll be hanged."</p> + +<p>"We know that, sir."</p> + +<p>Blythe considered for a minute and announced his decision sharply.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you another chance—you two and Higgins and young Fleming. +I'll not let you off scot-free, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_221" id="pg_221">221</a></span> but your punishment will depend on how +faithful you are for the rest of the cruise."</p> + +<p>Once I saw a man acquitted of murder in a courtroom. The verdict was +such a relief that he fainted. The captain's unexpected clemency took +these men the same way, for virtually he had untied the noose from their +necks. Tears started to their eyes. Plainly they were shaken with +emotion.</p> + +<p>"You'll not regret it, sir. We'll be true to the death, Captain Blythe," +the Irishman promised, his white lips trembling.</p> + +<p>After Alderson's turn at the wheel came mine. Evelyn presently joined me +in the pilot-house.</p> + +<p>"When shall we get ashore?" she asked me.</p> + +<p>We were at the time, I remember, passing Taboga Island.</p> + +<p>"Not till morning. We'll have to be inspected. To-night we'll lie in the +harbor."</p> + +<p>"How is your hand?" she asked, glancing at my bruised fingers.</p> + +<p>I flashed a look quickly at her.</p> + +<p>"My hand! Oh, it's all right now."</p> + +<p>"Jimmie's is better, too," she said quietly.</p> + +<p>In the language of my boyhood I was up a stump. So I played for time.</p> + +<p>"Jimmie's?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have been taking care of it for him. His +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_222" id="pg_222">222</a></span> fingers were not +bruised much, though. It's odd, isn't it, that both of you were hurt in +exactly the same place—by accident?"</p> + +<p>I murmured that it was strange.</p> + +<p>"So I had a little talk with him," she went on quietly.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"And he told me all about it. Oh, Jack, I didn't think even Boris would +do a thing like that!" She looked up at me with bright, misty eyes. "I +asked Gallagher and Neidlinger about it. They both told me how brave you +were."</p> + +<p>"I'm grateful for their certificate of valor," I answered lightly.</p> + +<p>Before I knew what she was at my sweetheart had stooped to kiss the +bruises above my knuckles. I snatched my hand away.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that," I said gruffly. "It isn't exactly—you know—right."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" She looked at me with head flung back in characteristic +fashion. "Why not? They suffered for us, the poor, bruised fingers. Why +shouldn't I honor them with my poor best?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well!" I shrugged, embarrassed by her shining ardor, even though in +my heart it pleased me.</p> + +<p>She came close to me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_223" id="pg_223">223</a></span></p> + +<p>"I love you better every day, Jack. You're splendid. Life is going to be +a great, big thing for me with you."</p> + +<p>"Even though we don't find the treasure?" I asked, thrilling with the +joy of her confession.</p> + +<p>"We've found the treasure," she whispered. "I don't give that"—she +snapped her fingers with a gesture of scorn—"for all the gold that was +ever buried compared to you, laddie. I just spend my time thanking God +for you with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"But you mustn't idealize me. I'm full of faults."</p> + +<p>"Don't I know it? Don't I love your faults, too, you goose? Who wants a +perfect man?"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know."</p> + +<p>The wheel was getting very little attention, for my darling was in my +arms and I was kissing softly her tumbled hair and the shadows under her +glorious eyes.</p> + +<p>"Love is like that. It doesn't want perfection. I care more for you +because you're always wanting your own way. The tiny, powdered freckles +on the side of your nose are beauty marks to me."</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> a goose," she laughed. "But it's true. I've seen lots of +handsomer men than you—Boris, for example; but I've never seen one so +good looking." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_224" id="pg_224">224</a></span></p> + +<p>"And that's just nonsense," I told her blithely.</p> + +<p>"Of course it's nonsense. But there is no sense so true as nonsense."</p> + +<p>I dare say we babbled foolishly the inarticulate rhapsody all lovers +find so expressive.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_225" id="pg_225">225</a></span> +<a name="THE_BIG_DITCH_6083" id="THE_BIG_DITCH_6083"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>THE BIG DITCH</h3> +</div> + +<p>Darkness had fallen before we dropped anchor in the harbor of Panama. It +was such a night as only the tropics can produce, the stars burning +close and brilliant, the full moon rising out of a silent sea. In front +of us the lights of the city came twinkling out. Behind them lay the +mystery of conquest.</p> + +<p>No spot in all the western hemisphere held so much of romance as this. +Drake and Pizarro had tarried here in their blustering careers, Morgan +had captured and burned the city.</p> + +<p>Many times in the past centuries the Isthmus had been won and lost, but +never had such a victory been gained as that our countrymen had secured +in the past half dozen years.</p> + +<p>They had overcome yellow fever and proved that the tropics might be made +a safe place for the Anglo-Saxon to live. They had driven a sword +through the backbone of the continent and had built a canal through +which great liners could climb up and down stairs from one ocean to +another. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_226" id="pg_226">226</a></span></p> + +<p>The dream of the centuries had become a reality through the skill and +resolution with which the sons of Uncle Sam had tackled the big ditch.</p> + +<p>It may be guessed how anxious all of us were to get ashore. There was +little sleep aboard the <i>Argos</i> that night. It was long past midnight +before any of us left the deck.</p> + +<p>The truth is that the yacht had become a prison to us just as it had to +Bothwell. The thought of a few days on land, where we need not watch +every moment to keep our throats from being slit, was an enormous +relief.</p> + +<p>But Blythe was taking no chances with the vessel. It had been decided +among us that either he, Yeager, or I should remain in charge of the +<i>Argos</i> every minute of our stay.</p> + +<p>I had volunteered for the first day and Yeager was to relieve me on the +second.</p> + +<p>All three of us were firmly resolved, though we had not yet broached the +subject to Evelyn, that the ladies should remain in the canal zone while +we continued down the coast to lift the treasure.</p> + +<p>Before Bothwell was taken ashore he had the effrontery to ask for a talk +with his cousin. Blythe did not even submit his request to her. Fleming +and he were removed from the vessel while the ladies were eating +breakfast with Yeager, so that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_227" id="pg_227">227</a></span> they did not even know until afterward +that the men had been turned over to the authorities.</p> + +<p>None of the reconstructed mutineers asked for shore leave. Each of them +knew that if he left the ship he would be liable to arrest for a capital +offense and preferred to take his chance of any punishment the captain +might inflict.</p> + +<p>The day was an endless one, but it wore away at last. The cattleman was +to relieve me at breakfast time. I was up with the summer sun and had +bathed, shaved, and eaten long before the city showed any sign of +activity around the harbor.</p> + +<p>"You'll like Panama," Yeager assured me after he had clambered aboard. +"It's a city of madmen, plumb daffy about the big ditch. The men can't +talk anything but cuts, dams, cubic feet, steam plows, and earth slides. +But, by Moses, when I see what they've done it makes me glad I'm an +American. Everything is the biggest in the world—the dam, the locks, +the cuts, the lake, the machinery, the whole blessed works. They've set +a new mark for the rest of the earth."</p> + +<p>"What is Sam doing about getting a crew in place of our precious +mutineers?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"He's picked up several fellows already. A Yankee named Stubbs is chief +engineer. Sam is shipping Jamaica niggers for firemen." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_228" id="pg_228">228</a></span></p> + +<p>No schoolboy out for a holiday could have been half so keen to be free +as I was. At the wharf I picked up a <i>coche</i> and was driven to the +Tivoli, the hotel in the American quarter where our party was staying.</p> + +<p>The mud and the mosquitoes of former years were gone, though the natives +were as indolent as ever. It is a town of color, due largely to the +assorted population. I was told by a young engineer from Gatun that +forty languages are spoken on the Isthmus at present, a condition due to +the number of Caribbean islanders employed by our government.</p> + +<p>I found that the program for the day included a trip to Colon on the +Isthmus railroad. Miss Berry preferred to rest quietly at the hotel, so +her niece, Sam, and I set out to see the great canal.</p> + +<p>As I look back on it now Panama means to me a series of panoramic +pictures. To give more than a cursory description of our impressions is +impossible. The fact is that one obliterated another so swiftly as to +leave a sense only of confusion.</p> + +<p>Take Culebra Cut, for instance, where the monsters of man's invention +are biting into the mountain sides, ripping down with giant jaws loose +dirt, and hauling it away on a maze of tracks.</p> + +<p>Great hoses, under tremendous pressure, are tearing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_229" id="pg_229">229</a></span> at hills and +washing them down. All the time there is a deafening noise, the crash of +the continent's spine being rent by dynamite, the roar of trains, the +shrieks of dirt shovels blowing off steam, the stab and hammer of +drills.</p> + +<p>Man is making war on nature with amazing energy on a titanic scale. The +disorder seemed hopeless, but one realized that these little figures +moving about it in the man-made cañon were achieving the seemingly +impossible none the less.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it wonderful?" Evelyn asked for the tenth time, as we looked down +on a machine which had just seized a section of track and hoisted it up, +rails and ties complete, to swing it over to another place.</p> + +<p>I quoted to her Damon Runyon's verses:</p> + +<p style='margin-left:2em;'> +We are ants upon a mountain, but we're leavin' of our dent,<br /> +An' our teeth-marks bitin' scenery they will show the way we went;<br /> +We're a liftin' half-creation, and we're changin' it around,<br /> +Just to suit our playful purpose when we're diggin' in the ground. +</p> + +<p>"You Americans take the cake," Blythe admitted. "You never tire of doing +big things."</p> + +<p>His eyes had come back to a group of young engineers who had just +entered the car. The grimy sweat had dried on their sooty faces and +their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_230" id="pg_230">230</a></span> hands were black and greasy. They wore no coats and their shirts, +wet from the perspiration drawn by the hot Panama sun, stuck to the +muscular shoulders.</p> + +<p>They looked like tramps from their attire, but Olympians could not have +carried in their manner a blither confidence. These boys—I'll swear the +oldest could have been no more than twenty-five—had undertaken to cut +asunder what God has joined.</p> + +<p>It did not matter to them in the least that they looked like coal +miners. The only thing of importance was the work, the big ditch. Yet I +knew that these were just such splendid fellows as our technical schools +are turning out by thousands.</p> + +<p>A few years before their thoughts had been full of cotillions and girls +and the junior prom. The Isthmus had laid hold of them and hardened +their muscles and bronzed their faces and given them a toughness of +fiber that would last a lifetime.</p> + +<p>They had taken on responsibility as if they had been born to it. A glow +of pride in them flushed me. I was proud of the country that could fling +out by hundreds of thousands such young fellows as these.</p> + +<p>Empire, Gorgona, Gatun. From one to another we were hurried, passing +through jungles such as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_231" id="pg_231">231</a></span> we of the North never dream exist. In that +humid climate vegetation is prodigal beyond belief, gorgeous with +spattered greens and yellows and crimsons bizarre enough to take the +breath.</p> + +<p>We ate luncheon at Colon and were back across the Isthmus at Panama a +few hours later. After dinner we strolled around the city and saw the +Parque de la Catedral, the Plaza Santa Ana, and the old sea wall.</p> + +<p>It did my heart good to see broad-shouldered, alert young Americans +walking with wholesome girls from home and making love to them in the +same fashion their friends were doing up in "God's country."</p> + +<p>Bothwell and his bunch of pirates began to lose themselves in the +background of my mind. There was a dance at the hotel that evening. +Before I had waltzed twice with Evelyn her buccaneer cousin had +dissolved into a myth.</p> + +<p>When Yeager came ashore next morning he brought a piece of news. Henry +Fleming had taken a boat during the night and escaped.</p> + +<p>"If I run across him I'll curl his hair for him," Tom promised with a +look that made me think he would keep his word.</p> + +<p>But I was not sorry Fleming had taken French leave. Neidlinger could be +trusted now, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_232" id="pg_232">232</a></span> neither Higgins nor Gallagher would go far astray +without a leader.</p> + +<p>But both the engineers had known of Bothwell's plans from the first. If +I could have foreseen what effect the desertion of our second engineer +was to have upon the expedition I would not have taken his disappearance +so easily.</p> + +<p>Our stay on the canal zone was a delightful one, though we were busy +every minute of the time enjoying ourselves or making preparations for +departure. With some difficulty Blythe picked up two engineers and a +couple of firemen from Barbados and Jamaica, the latter of whom were +natives. Philips was to stay at Panama until our return.</p> + +<p>I had my share of duty aboard the <i>Argos</i> to do, but every minute that +was my own I spent in the old city or on the works.</p> + +<p>Evelyn surprised us by making no objection to our decree that she should +remain at Panama while we took the <i>Argos</i> down to San Miguel Bay to +lift the doubloons. In spite of her courage she was a woman. She +confessed to me that she had seen bloodshed enough on the way down from +California to last her a lifetime. The thought of returning so soon to +the yacht had been a dreadful one to her.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of our last day at Panama, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_233" id="pg_233">233</a></span> Evelyn and I went out to +the old sea wall for an hour together. The tide was in and from the +parapet we watched the waves beat against the foot of the wall.</p> + +<p>Away to our right was Balboa, above which rested a smoke pall from tugs, +dredges, and tramp west coasters. Taboga we could just make out, and +closer in a group of smaller islands the names of which I have +forgotten. Beyond them all stretched the endless Pacific.</p> + +<p>Evelyn was quieter than usual, but I had never seen her look so lovely. +The poise of my dear girl's burnished head, the untutored grace of her +delicate youth, the gleam of tears behind the tremulous smile, all made +mighty appeal to me.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid for you, Jack. That's the truth of it. We've just found each +other—after all these years. I don't want to run the risk of losing you +again." Ever so slightly her voice broke.</p> + +<p>"You'll not lose me. Do you think anything could keep me away—with the +sweetest girl in the world waiting for me here?"</p> + +<p>"I know," she smiled, a little drearily. "It sounds foolish, but I think +of that dreadful man."</p> + +<p>We had been following the cement promenade on top of the wall. I led her +across it to the landward side, from which we could look down into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_234" id="pg_234">234</a></span> the +yard of a prison. Under the eyes of an armed guard some prisoners were +crossing to their cells. Two of them were in stripes, the third was not.</p> + +<p>"Look," I told her. "Bothwell is down there, locked up and guarded. He +can't escape."</p> + +<p>The little group below came closer. I had noticed that the prisoner not +in uniform was a white man and not a native. He carried himself with a +distinction one could not miss. Even before he looked up both of us knew +the man was Boris Bothwell.</p> + +<p>He stopped in his tracks, white-lipped, a devil of hatred and rage +burning out of his deep-set eyes. A dullard could not have missed his +thoughts. He was a prisoner in this vile hole, while I had brought the +woman he loved to mock at him. The girl and the treasure would both be +mine. Before him lay no hope.</p> + +<p>I felt a sense of shame at being an unexpected witness of his +degradation. As I started to draw Evelyn back a guard prodded the Slav +with his bayonet point. Bothwell whirled like a tiger and sprang for the +throat of the fellow. They went down together. Other guards rushed to +the rescue of their companion.</p> + +<p>We waited to see no more. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_235" id="pg_235">235</a></span></p> + +<p>It must have been a minute before either of us spoke.</p> + +<p>"Bad as he is, I can't help being sorry for him. It's as if a splendid +lion were being worried to death by a pack of coyotes," Evelyn said with +a shudder.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there's something big even in his villainy. But you may take one +bit of comfort: He can't get free to interfere with us—and he deserves +all he'll get."</p> + +<p>"I know. My reason tells me that all will be well now, but I have a +feeling as if the worst were not yet over."</p> + +<p>I tried to joke her out of it.</p> + +<p>"It hasn't begun. You're not married to Jack Sedgwick yet."</p> + +<p>"No; but, dear, I can't get away from the thought that you are going +into danger again," she went on seriously.</p> + +<p>"Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink," I quoted lightly.</p> + +<p>"I dare say I'm a goose," she admitted.</p> + +<p>"You are. My opinion is that you're in as much danger as we shall be."</p> + +<p>"Is that why you are leaving me here?" she flashed back.</p> + +<p>I laughed. In truth I did not quite believe what +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_236" id="pg_236">236</a></span> I had said. For I +could see no danger at all that lay in wait for her. But the events +proved that I had erred only in not putting the case strongly enough. +Before we returned to civilization she was to be in deadly peril.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_237" id="pg_237">237</a></span> +<a name="A_MESSAGE_FROM_BUCKS_6373" id="A_MESSAGE_FROM_BUCKS_6373"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>A MESSAGE FROM BUCKS</h3> +</div> + +<p>In the forenoon we drew out from the harbor and followed the shore line +toward the southwest, bound for that neck of the Isthmus which is known +loosely as The Darien.</p> + +<p>Before night had fallen we were rounding Brava Point into the Gulf of +San Miguel, so named by Balboa because it was upon St. Michael's Day, +1513, that his eyes here first fell upon the blue waters of the Pacific.</p> + +<p>We followed the north shore, along precipitous banks that grew higher +the farther inland we went. The dense jungle came down to the water's +edge and was unbroken by any sign of human habitation.</p> + +<p>In the brilliant moonlight we passed the South and the North bays, +pushing straight into the Darien Harbor by way of the Boco Chico. The +tides here have a rise and fall of nearly twenty feet, but we found a +little inlet close to a mangrove swamp that offered a good harborage for +the night.</p> + +<p>The warm sun was pouring over the hill when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_238" id="pg_238">238</a></span> I reached the deck next +morning. We were steaming slowly past the village of La Palma along a +precipitous shore heavily timbered. One could not have asked a +pleasanter trip than that to the head of the harbor, at which point the +Rio Tuyra pours its waters into the bay. Between La Palma and the river +mouth we did not see a sign of human life.</p> + +<p>At the distance of a rifle shot from the head of the harbor we rounded a +point and saw before us a long tongue of sand running into the water.</p> + +<p>Blythe and I spoke almost together:</p> + +<p>"Doubloon Spit."</p> + +<p>There could be no mistake about it. We had reached the place where Bully +Evans and Nat Quinn had buried the gold ingots they had sold their souls +to get. We came to anchor a couple of hundred yards from the end of the +sand spit.</p> + +<p>Neither Blythe nor I had said a word to any of the crew to indicate that +we were near our journey's end, but all morning there had been an +unusual excitement aboard. Now we could almost see the word run from man +to man that the spot where the treasure was buried lay before us.</p> + +<p>"You'll command the shore party to-day, Jack," Blythe announced.</p> + +<p>"Do I draw shore duty?" Yeager asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"You do. I'll stay with the ship. Jack, you'll +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_239" id="pg_239">239</a></span> have with you, too, +Alderson, Smith, Gallagher, and one of the stokers."</p> + +<p>"Also James A. Garfield Welch," I added.</p> + +<p>"Also Jimmie," he nodded.</p> + +<p>We had no reason to expect any trouble, but we went ashore armed, with +the exception of Gallagher and Barbados, as we called our white-toothed, +black-faced fireman.</p> + +<p>I had our boat beached at the neck of the peninsula. While the men were +drawing it up on the sand beyond reach of the tide I called to Jimmie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>"Take off your coat."</p> + +<p>"Are youse going to give me that licking now?" he asked, eyes big with +surprise.</p> + +<p>"How often have I told you not to ask questions? Shuck the coat."</p> + +<p>He twisted out of it like an eel. I took it from him, turned it inside +out, and opened my pocket knife. Carefully I ripped the lining at the +seams. From a kind of pocket I drew an envelope. Out of the envelope I +took the map that had been so closely connected with the history of +Doubloon Spit.</p> + +<p>When I say the men were surprised, I do them less than justice. One +could have knocked their eyes off with a stick. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_240" id="pg_240">240</a></span></p> + +<p>"Crikey! I didn't know that was there," Jimmie cried.</p> + +<p>It had been Evelyn's idea to sew the map in Jimmie's coat, since that +was the last place the mutineers would think of looking for it. While he +had been peacefully sleeping Miss Wallace had done so neat a piece of +tailoring that Jimmie did not suspect the garment had been tampered +with.</p> + +<p>We had, however, taken the precaution to take a copy of the map. During +all the desperate fighting it had been lying in a shell snugly fitted +into one of the chambers of a revolver in Yeager's room.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir. Did the boy have the map with him while he was Mr. +Bothwell's prisoner?" asked Gallagher.</p> + +<p>"He did; but he didn't know it."</p> + +<p>"Glad he didn't, sir, because if he had that devil would have got it out +of him."</p> + +<p>"Which no doubt would have distressed you greatly," I answered dryly.</p> + +<p>"I'm on the honest side now, sir," the sailor said quietly.</p> + +<p>"Let's hope you stay there."</p> + +<p>"I intend to, sir," he said, flushing at my words.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<img src="images/illus-240.jpg" alt=""CRIKEY! I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS THERE," JIMMIE CRIED. p. 240" title="" width="324" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"CRIKEY! I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS THERE," JIMMIE CRIED. p. 240</span> +</div> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_241" id="pg_241">241</a></span>The +chart that Tom and I looked at was a contour map of the spit and the +territory adjacent to it. No doubt it had in the old days been roughly +accurate, but now the tongue of sand was wider than it had been by +nearly a hundred years of sand deposits washed up by the tide.</p> + +<p>Both on the map and the spit a salient feature was the grove of palms +that stood on the hill just beyond the neck of the peninsula. Here +plainly was the starting point of our quest. With Yeager I led the way +to the clump, followed by my men carrying spades and shovels.</p> + +<p>"Ye Grove" the clump of palms was labeled, and the great drooping tree +to one side some fifty yards farther down the hill must be "Ye Umbrela +Tree."</p> + +<p>Beneath the map were the directions for finding the treasure, written in +the angular hand of Nat Quinn. In order that you may understand I give +these just as he had written them.</p> + +<p>HOW TO FIND ITTE: **</p> + +<p>From inlet nearest shore go 200 paces to summit +where Grove is. From most eastern palm measure +12 steps to Ye Umbrela Tree and seven beyond. +Take a Be line from here thirty paces throu ye +Forked Tree. Here cut a Rite Anggel N. N. E. +till Tong of Spit is lost. Cast three long steps Souwest +to Big Rock and dig on landward side.</p> + +<p>(Sined)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bully Evans</span> X (His Mark) +<span class="smcap">Nat Quinn +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_242" id="pg_242">242</a></span></span></p> + +<p>While I had been poring over this map and the directions with it in my +office at San Francisco it had seemed an easy thing to follow them, but +in this dense, tropical jungle I found it quite another matter.</p> + +<p>The vegetation and the underbrush were so rank that one found himself +buried before he had gone three steps in them.</p> + +<p>No doubt at the time when the survivors of the <i>Mary Ann</i> of Bristol had +cached their ill-gotten doubloons a recent fire had swept this point of +land so that they had found no difficulty in traversing it, but now the +jungle was so thick and matted that I decided to begin by cutting roads +to the palm grove and the umbrella tree.</p> + +<p>From the yacht I got hatchets and machetes and we set to work. Before +night we all had a tremendous respect for the power of resistance +offered by a Panama jungle. We might almost as well have hacked at +rubber.</p> + +<p>There was none of that sturdy solidity of our northern woods. The jungle +yields to every blow and springs back into place with a persistence that +seems devilish. By nightfall we had made so little progress that I was +discouraged.</p> + +<p>To our right there was a mangrove swamp. As we passed its edge on the +way back to the boat our +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_243" id="pg_243">243</a></span> eyes beheld thousands upon thousands of birds +coming there to roost for the night. Among them were many aigrette +herons, white as the driven snow. I think I have never seen a bird so +striking as this one.</p> + +<p>Blythe, with Neidlinger, Higgins, our engineers, and the other fireman, +took the second day on shore. Morgan was doing the cooking, and so was +exempt from service. Dugan, still weak from his wound, was helping in +the galley as best as he could.</p> + +<p>All through the third day it rained hard, but on the fourth I and my +detail were back on the job. We were making progress. By this time a +path had been cut through to the palm grove and from it to the umbrella +tree.</p> + +<p>It was clear that a century ago the line of palms must have stretched +farther down the hill, for now the nearest was at least fifty yards from +the umbrella tree, instead of twelve as mentioned in the directions.</p> + +<p>The only alternative to this was that the original umbrella tree had +disappeared, and this I did not want to believe. At best one of the +landmarks had gone.</p> + +<p>We could go seven paces beyond the big tree, but "beyond" is a vague +word, the point from which the measurement began having vanished. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_244" id="pg_244">244</a></span></p> + +<p>Moreover, we encountered here another difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Take a Be line from here thirty paces throu ye Forked Tree," we read on +the chart, but the forked tree had apparently fallen and rotted long +since. There were trees in the jungle, to be sure, but none of them were +of sufficient age to have been in existence then.</p> + +<p>The best I could do was to guess at the point seven paces beyond the +umbrella tree and, using it as a center, draw a circle around it at +thirty paces. Our machetes hacked a trail, and at one point of it we +crossed the stump of a tree that had been in its day of some size.</p> + +<p>The stump had rotted so that one could kick it to pieces with the heel +of a boot. This might or might not be the remains of the forked tree, +but since we were working on a chance, this struck us as a good one to +try.</p> + +<p>It was impossible to tell where the fork had been, but we made a guess +at it and proceeded to follow directions.</p> + +<p>"Here cut a Rite Anggel N. N. E. till Tong of Spit is lost."</p> + +<p>This at least was specific and definite. North northeast we went by the +compass, slashing our way through the heavy vines and shrubbery inch +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_245" id="pg_245">245</a></span> by +inch. We dipped over a hillock and came out of the jungle into the sand +before the end of the spit was hidden by higher ground.</p> + +<p>"Cast three long steps Souwest to Big Rock and dig on landward side."</p> + +<p>Three steps to the southwest brought me deeper into the sand. There was +no big rock in sight.</p> + +<p>I looked at Tom. He laughed, as he had a habit of doing when in a +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'll have to try again, Jack."</p> + +<p>Gallagher broke in, touching his hat in apology:</p> + +<p>"Not meaning to butt in, Mr. Sedgwick, but mightn't the rock be covered +with sand? Give a hundred years and a heap of sand would wash into this +cove here."</p> + +<p>"There's sense in that. Anyhow, we'll try out your theory, Gallagher."</p> + +<p>I marked a space about twelve by twelve upon which to begin operations. +It took us an hour and a half to satisfy ourselves that nothing was +hidden there.</p> + +<p>I marked a second square, a third, and finally a fourth. Dusk fell +before we had finished digging the last. Tired and dispirited we pulled +back to the yacht.</p> + +<p>During the night it came on to rain again, and for three successive days +water sluiced down from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_246" id="pg_246">246</a></span> skies which never seemed empty of moisture. +There was a gleam of sunshine the fourth day and though the jungle was +like a shower bath Blythe took his machete and shovel squad to work.</p> + +<p>At the end of the day they were back again. Sam had picked on a great +<i>lignum vitæ</i> as the forked tree named in the chart and had come to +disappointment, even as I had.</p> + +<p>In the end it was Gallagher who set us right. By this time, of course, +every member of our party had the directions on the chart by heart, +though several had not read the paper. We had finished luncheon and +several of the men were strolling about. I was half way through my cigar +when Gallagher came swinging back almost at a run.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir. Would you mind coming with me?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I asked in some excitement.</p> + +<p>"It may not amount to anything. I don't know. But I thought I'd tell +you, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>He had been lying down on the sand where it ran back to the jungle from +the farthest inlet. Kicking idly with his heel he had come to solid +stone. An examination proved to him that he was lying on a big rock +covered with sand.</p> + +<p>"You think this is the Big Rock," I said, after I had examined it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_247" id="pg_247">247</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's my idea. Stand here, sir, at the edge. You can't see the tongue +of the spit, can you?"</p> + +<p>"No, but that doesn't prove anything. We can't see it from this inlet at +all."</p> + +<p>"Sure about that, sir? Take three steps nor'east—long ones. Can you see +the point now?"</p> + +<p>"No, there's a hillock between."</p> + +<p>"Take one step more."</p> + +<p>I moved forward another yard. Over the top of the rise I could just see +the sand tongue running into the bay.</p> + +<p>Jimmie, the irrepressible, broke out impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Don't see what he's getting at, Mr. Sedgwick. The map says to take +three steps <i>southwest</i> to the big rock."</p> + +<p>"Exactly, Jimmie, but we're starting <i>from</i> the big rock, so we have to +reverse directions. By Jove, I believe you've hit on the spot, +Gallagher."</p> + +<p>I called to Alderson to bring the men with their spades. A tree more +than a foot thick at the ground had grown up at the edge of the rock. We +brought this down by digging at the roots. After another quarter of an +hour's work Barbados unearthed a bottle. He was as proud of his find as +if it had been a bar of gold.</p> + +<p>We were all excited. The bottle was passed from hand to hand. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_248" id="pg_248">248</a></span></p> + +<p>"We're getting warm," I cried. "This is the spot. Remember that every +mother's son of you shares what we find. Five dollars to the man that +first touches treasure."</p> + +<p>There was a cheer. The men fell to work with renewed vigor. Presently +Gallagher's spade hit something solid. A little scraping showed the top +of an iron box.</p> + +<p>"I claim that five, sir," cried Gallagher.</p> + +<p>I jumped into the hole beside him. With our hands we scraped the dirt +away from the sides.</p> + +<p>"Heave away," I gave the word.</p> + +<p>We lifted the box to the solid ground above. It was very rusty, of a +good size, and heavy.</p> + +<p>"Let's open it now," cried Jimmie, dancing with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Let's not," I vetoed. "We'll take it on board first. Five dollars to +the man that finds the second box."</p> + +<p>But there was no second box. We worked till dark at the hole. Before we +left there was an excavation large enough for the cellar of a house. But +not a trace of more treasure did we find.</p> + +<p>Blythe had decided it best not to open the treasure before the men, and +though the crew was plainly disappointed we stuck to that resolution.</p> + +<p>Sam promised the men that they should see it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_249" id="pg_249">249</a></span> before we reached San +Francisco, and that they should appoint two of their number to accompany +the treasure to the assay office in that city to determine the value of +our find and their share.</p> + +<p>Yeager, being handier with an ax than the rest of us, broke open the lid +of the chest. A piece of coarse sacking covered the contents. Blythe +lifted this—<i>and disclosed to our astonished eyes a jumble of stones +and sand</i>.</p> + +<p>We looked at our find and at each other. Tom put our feeling into words.</p> + +<p>"Bilked, by Moses!"</p> + +<p>We tossed the rocks and sand upon the table and came to a piece of +ragged paper folded in two. In a faint red four words were traced as if +with the end of a pointed stick.</p> + +<p>Sold, you devils! <span class="smcap">Bucks.</span></p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_250" id="pg_250">250</a></span> +<a name="TREASURETROVE_6742" id="TREASURETROVE_6742"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>TREASURE-TROVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Tom broke the silence again.</p> + +<p>"Now will some one tell me who the devil is Bucks?"</p> + +<p>It was the question in all our minds and our eyes groped helplessly in +those of each other for an answer.</p> + +<p>"Bucks! Bucks! I've heard his name somewhere."</p> + +<p>Blythe spoke up like a flash.</p> + +<p>"So have I, Jack. He was one of the sailors that took the <i>Santa +Theresa</i>. Quinn gave a list of them in his story. This fellow must have +escaped somehow when the ship was blown up."</p> + +<p>"Or from the gig that set out to pursue the long boat. Perhaps when the +<i>Truxillo</i> pounded the boat to pieces he swam to shore," I suggested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but Quinn does not mention that Bucks got ashore. That's funny +too, because he says that he was the only man from the <i>Santa Theresa</i> +left alive after Bully Evans was shot." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_251" id="pg_251">251</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is queer. But it's plain Bucks <i>did</i> escape. Don't you think it +might be this way? When he got to shore he ran forward to tell the four +who had landed with the treasure about the coming of the <i>Truxillo</i>. But +before he reached the top of the hill he heard shots and suspected +danger. So he stole forward cautiously and saw what had happened to Wall +and Lobardi. Of course he wouldn't dare show himself then, for he was +probably unarmed. So he kept hidden while the two survivors buried the +treasure."</p> + +<p>"Of course. Like a wise man too," assented Tom. "And when Quinn and the +mate had pulled their freights he steps out and buries the gold in +another place."</p> + +<p>"Probably he waited till the <i>Truxillo</i> was out of the harbor," amended +the Englishman.</p> + +<p>"Sure. But the big point that sticks out like a sore thumb is that Bucks +didn't fool Evans and Quinn, but us. The treasure's gone. That's a +rock-bottom fact," Yeager commented.</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure about that," I reflected aloud. "Look here. If Bucks +dug the gold up he had to rebury it somewhere. He had no way of taking +the doubloons with him. He couldn't have hauled the other boxes far. +Therefore, it follows that he buried them close to where he found them. +The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_252" id="pg_252">252</a></span> one thing we don't know is whether he came back later and got the +treasure. I'll bet he didn't. The man was a common sailor and had no +means."</p> + +<p>"Even if we give you the benefit of every doubt, the treasure is hidden. +We don't know where. In a year we might not find it."</p> + +<p>"True enough, Sam. And we might stumble on it to-morrow. Look at the +facts. He was alone, probably superstitious, certainly in fear lest +Bully Evans might return and find him there. More than that, he had no +provisions. To get away and reach the Indians to get food would be his +main thought. It was a case of life and death with him. So you can bet +he chose easy digging when he transferred the treasure. That means he +buried it in the sand not far from where he found it."</p> + +<p>"You have it figured out beautifully," Sam laughed. "Well, I wish you +luck."</p> + +<p>"But you don't expect any for me. Just you wait and see."</p> + +<p>We called the crew in and showed them what we had found, explaining the +facts and our deductions from them. For we thought it better they should +know just how matters stood. Their disappointment was keen, but to a man +they were eager to search further.</p> + +<p>Hitherto we had staked our chances for success +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_253" id="pg_253">253</a></span> upon the map, but it was +now manifest that the chart was no longer of any use. I decided first to +take a look along the shore from the point where we had discovered the +first box.</p> + +<p>Fortune is a fickle jade. We had spent a week here and met only +disappointment, working on careful calculations made from the directions +left by Quinn. By chance Gallagher had hit on the first cache. By chance +I hit on the second.</p> + +<p>Fighting my way through the jungle just adjacent to the beach I stumbled +over what I took to be a root. In some annoyance I glanced hastily at +the projection—and then looked again. My foot had been caught by a bone +sticking out of the ground. The odd thing was that it looked like a +human bone.</p> + +<p>I plied my machete. Within a quarter of an hour I had cleared a small +square of ground and was digging with a pick. What I presently uncovered +were the remains of a skeleton. An old sack, more brittle than paper, +lay beneath these. This I removed. There, lying in the sand, were <i>three +bars of gold</i>.</p> + +<p>My heart jumped, lost a beat, hammered furiously. I looked around +quickly. Alderson and Gallagher were the only men I had brought ashore +with me. They were digging at haphazard in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_254" id="pg_254">254</a></span> sand a hundred yards +away. With one stroke of the pick I upended several more yellow bars.</p> + +<p>That was enough for me. I laid aside the first three and covered the +others with sand, using my foot as a spade. The three original bars I +buttoned under my coat and then walked down hill to the beach.</p> + +<p>"I'm going aboard," I told the men.</p> + +<p>"Gallagher, you may row me out. I'll be back presently, Alderson."</p> + +<p>I was under a tremendous suppressed excitement. Blythe met me as I came +aboard and his eyes questioned mine. Without a word we moved toward the +bridge pavilion and down into the saloon.</p> + +<p>"I've had another message from Mr. Bucks," I told him.</p> + +<p>"The deuce you say!"</p> + +<p>"He delivered it in person this time."</p> + +<p>The Englishman's eyes danced, but otherwise his face was immobile.</p> + +<p>"Did he say his name was Bucks?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'm not dead sure I have him identified correctly. As Tom would +say, the brand is worn out."</p> + +<p>"I never was any good at riddles," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"I stumbled over a thigh bone in the jungle. It +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_255" id="pg_255">255</a></span> was sticking out of the +ground, where in the course of time the sand had buried the rest of the +body. I have reason to think it belonged to Bucks because——"</p> + +<p>I paused for dramatic effect, my arms folded across my chest to keep the +treasure from slipping down.</p> + +<p>"Just so, because——?"</p> + +<p>He was as cool as an iced melon, the drawl in his voice not quickening +in the least. But his eyes gave away his tense interest.</p> + +<p>"Why, because I found a lot of these in the sand, all of them measuring +up to sample." From under my coat I drew the shining yellow bars and +handed them to him.</p> + +<p>"Gold!" he cried softly. "By Jove, this is a find."</p> + +<p>"And a lot more where those came from, or I miss my guess. There is a +mound there that looks to me like a cache."</p> + +<p>"But what was Bucks doing there?"</p> + +<p>"That's a guess. Here is mine. It doesn't cost you a cent even if you +don't accept it. After he had made the cache we'll say that he hiked off +to try to find a settlement. Very likely he had no idea where to look +and he found progress through the jungle impossible. After a while he +wandered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_256" id="pg_256">256</a></span> back, half starved and exhausted. Perhaps his idea may have +been that the <i>Truxillo</i> was still on the ground. If so, he may have +wanted to offer the gold in exchange for his life. Anyhow, back he +comes, to find that he is too late. The brig has gone. In his delirium +he has some notion of digging up the treasure to buy food. He gets the +first sack of bullion up and then quits, too weak to do any more."</p> + +<p>"Sounds reasonable enough. The chief point is that you've found the +gold. I'll order a force ashore to help you."</p> + +<p>There is something in the very thought of treasure-trove that unsettles +the most sane. Not a word was said to anybody except Tom about what I +had found, but everybody on board was sure the bullion had been found.</p> + +<p>Before the eyes of each man danced shining yellow ingots and pieces of +eight. We could tell it by the eagerness with which they volunteered for +shore duty.</p> + +<p>I chose Yeager, the chief engineer—he was a lank Yankee named +Stubbs—and Jamaica Ginger, as we called our second fireman. With us we +took ashore a stout box, in which to pack the loose gold.</p> + +<p>Those left on board cheered us as we pulled toward the beach, and we +answered lustily their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_257" id="pg_257">257</a></span> cheer. Every man jack of us was in the best of +spirits.</p> + +<p>By this time it was late in the afternoon, but the sun was still very +hot. I was careful not to let anybody work long at a stretch. As the +bars of gold were uncovered we packed them in the box brought for the +purpose. Every time a shovel disclosed a new find there was fresh +jubilation.</p> + +<p>While Alderson and I were resting under the shade of a mangrove the +sailor made a suggestion.</p> + +<p>"You don't expect to get all the treasure out to-night, do you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No. Perhaps not by to-morrow night. It is hard digging among so many +roots. And Mr. Bucks does not seem to have put it all together."</p> + +<p>"Will you keep a guard here, Mr. Sedgwick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It looks like a deserted neck of the woods, but we'll take no +chances."</p> + +<p>"That is what I was thinking, sir. Last night I couldn't sleep for the +heat and I strung a hammock on deck. About three o'clock this morning a +boat passed on its way to the mouth of the river."</p> + +<p>"Cholo Indians, likely."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. This was a schooner. It was some distance away, but I could +make that out."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll keep this place under our eye till the treasure is +lifted." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_258" id="pg_258">258</a></span></p> + +<p>About sunset I sent Gallagher, Stubbs, and Jamaica Ginger aboard with +the box of treasure, the Arizonian being in charge of the boat. While I +waited for its return I took a turn up the beach to catch the light +breeze that was beginning to stir.</p> + +<p>I walked toward the head of the harbor, strolling farther in that +direction than any of us had yet gone. I went possibly an eighth of a +mile above the spit, carrying my hat in my hand and moving in a +leisurely way.</p> + +<p>In truth I was at peace with the world. We had succeeded in our quest +and found the treasure. In a few days at most I should be back at Panama +with my slim sweetheart in my arms. What more could rational man ask?</p> + +<p>Then I stopped in my stride, snatched into a sudden amazement. For there +before me in the sand was the imprint of a boot made since the tide went +out a few hours earlier in the day.</p> + +<p>No flat-footed Indian had left the track. It was too sharp, too +decisive, had been left plainly by a shoe of superior make.</p> + +<p>No guess of the truth came to me, but instinctively I eased the revolver +in the scabbard by my side. Of this much I was sure, that whereas I had +supposed no white man except those of our party +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_259" id="pg_259">259</a></span> to be within many +miles, there was at least one in the immediate vicinity.</p> + +<p>What, then, was he doing here? How had he come? Had he any intimation +that there was treasure to be found? It was altogether likely that +whoever this man was he had not come to this desolate spot without +companions and without a very definite purpose.</p> + +<p>Where were they, then? And how did it happen we had not seen them? The +very secrecy of their presence seemed to suggest a sinister purpose.</p> + +<p>Should I go on and follow the tracks. Or should I go back and notify +Blythe at once? The latter no doubt would be the wiser course, but my +impulse was to push forward and discover something more definite. As +luck would have it, the decision was taken out of my hands.</p> + +<p>Out of the jungle a man came straight toward me. The very sight of that +strong, erect figure moving swiftly with easy stride tied, as it were, a +stone to my heart. The man was Boris Bothwell. I was sure of it long +before his face was distinguishable.</p> + +<p>He waved a hand at me with debonair insouciance.</p> + +<p>I waited for him without moving, my fingers on the butt of the revolver +at my side. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_260" id="pg_260">260</a></span></p> + +<p>"So happy to meet you again, dear friend," he jeered as soon as he was +within hail.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here? How did you get out?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"My simple-minded youth, money goes a long way among the natives. I +bought my way out, since you are curious to know."</p> + +<p>"And you've followed us down here to make more trouble?"</p> + +<p>"To renew our little private war. How did you guess it?"</p> + +<p>"So you haven't had enough yet. You have come back to take another +licking."</p> + +<p>"It's a long lane that has no turning," he assured me gaily. "I give you +my word that I've reached the bend, Mr. Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>His confident audacity got on my nerves. On the surface we had all the +best of the game. The trouble was that he knew the cards I held, whereas +I could only guess at his.</p> + +<p>"You are the most unmitigated villain not yet hanged!" I cried in rage.</p> + +<p>He bowed, rakish and smiling, with all the airs of a dancing master.</p> + +<p>"I fear you flatter me, sir."</p> + +<p>"I warn you to keep your hands off. We're ready for you." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_261" id="pg_261">261</a></span></p> + +<p>"I thought it only fair to warn <i>you</i>. That is why I am here and have +the pleasure of talking with you."</p> + +<p>"More lies. You showed yourself only because you knew I had seen your +footprints."</p> + +<p>He gave up the point with an easy laugh.</p> + +<p>"But really I did want to talk with you. We have many interests in +common. Our taste in women, for instance. By the way, did you leave Evie +well?"</p> + +<p>Triumph swam in the eyes, narrowed to slits, through which he watched +me. I could not understand his derisive confidence.</p> + +<p>"We'll not discuss that," I told him bluntly.</p> + +<p>"As you say. I come to another common interest—the treasure. Is it +running up to our hopes?"</p> + +<p>So he knew that we had found it. No doubt he had been watching us all +day through the telescope that hung at his side.</p> + +<p>"We don't recognize any hopes you may have."</p> + +<p>"But why not face facts? I intend to own the treasure when you have dug +it up for me."</p> + +<p>"You're of a sanguine temperament."</p> + +<p>"Poof! Life is a game of cards. First you hold trumps, then they fall to +me. It chances that now I hold the whip and ride on the crest of +fortune's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_262" id="pg_262">262</a></span> wave. Hope you don't mind mixed figures."</p> + +<p>"You'll ride at the end of the hangman's rope," I prophesied.</p> + +<p>"Let us look on the bright side."</p> + +<p>"I'm trying to do that."</p> + +<p>The man knew something that I did not. I was not bandying repartee with +him for pleasure, but because I knew that if he talked long enough he +would drop the card hidden up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>What was his ace of trumps? How could he afford to sit back and let us +dig up the gold? He could not be merely bluffing, for the man had been +laughing at me from that first wave of the hand.</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate that you and I don't pull together, Mr. Sedgwick. +We'd make an invincible team. You're the best enemy I ever met."</p> + +<p>"And you're the worst I've met."</p> + +<p>"Same thing, I assure you. We both mean compliments. But what I want to +say is that it is against the law of conservation of energy for us to be +opposing each other. I propose combination instead of competition."</p> + +<p>"Be a little more definite, please."</p> + +<p>"Chuck your friends overboard and go into partnership with me." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_263" id="pg_263">263</a></span></p> + +<p>"Are you speaking literally, or in metaphor, captain?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged.</p> + +<p>"That's a mere detail. If you have compunctions we'll maroon them."</p> + +<p>"Just what you promised the crew last time," I scored.</p> + +<p>"Wharf rats!" He waved the point aside magnificently. "I'm proposing now +a gentleman's agreement."</p> + +<p>"Which you'll keep as long as it suits you."</p> + +<p>"I thought you knew me better."</p> + +<p>"What have you to offer? My friends and I can keep the treasure. Why +should I ditch them for you? What's the <i>quid pro quo</i>?"</p> + +<p>"You and Evie and I will go shares, third and third alike. The better +man of us two will marry her. If it should be you, that will give you +two-thirds."</p> + +<p>"You're very generous."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I intend to marry her if I can. But I'll play fair. If she has the +bad taste to prefer you——"</p> + +<p>"In the event that I should happen to be alive still," I amended. "You +know how dangerous yellow fever is in the Isthmus, captain. I am afraid +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_264" id="pg_264">264</a></span> +that it would get me before we reached the canal zone again."</p> + +<p>He chuckled.</p> + +<p>"If you have a fault, my friend, it lies on the side of suspicion. When +I give my word I keep it—that is, when I give it to a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to lead you into the temptation of revising your opinion +of me and deciding that I am no gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Come, Mr. Sedgwick. We're not two fishwives to split hairs over a +trifle. I offer a compromise. Do you accept it?"</p> + +<p>"You offer me nothing I haven't got already. A share of the +treasure—that will be mine, anyhow, as soon as we have it assayed and +weighed."</p> + +<p>"You forget Evie."</p> + +<p>"Who is safe at Panama, beyond your reach, you scoundrel. Why should I +fear you as a rival since your life is forfeit as soon as you show your +head?"</p> + +<p>He could not have spoken more insolently himself. It was hot shot, but I +poured it in for a purpose. The mask fell from his face. One could see +the devil in his eyes now.</p> + +<p>"You reject my offer," he said, breathing hard to repress his rising +passion.</p> + +<p>A second man had come out of the jungle and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_265" id="pg_265">265</a></span> was moving toward us. It +was time to be going. I moved back a step or two, my fingers caressing +the butt of a revolver.</p> + +<p>"Yes, since I don't want to commit suicide, captain."</p> + +<p>He suddenly lost his temper completely and hopelessly. He glared at me +in a speechless rage, half of a mind to fight our quarrel out on the +spot. But the advantage lay with me. All I had to do to blaze away was +to tilt the point of my revolver at him without drawing it from the +scabbard. Then words came, poured out of him in a torrent. He cursed me +in Russian, in French, in English.</p> + +<p>I backed from him, step by step, till I was out of range. Then, swiftly +as his rage had swept upon him it died away, leaving him white and +shaken. He leaned heavily upon the man who had now joined him.</p> + +<p>Unless I was much mistaken the man was George Fleming.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_266" id="pg_266">266</a></span> +<a name="ABOARD_THE_SCHOONER_7179" id="ABOARD_THE_SCHOONER_7179"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>ABOARD THE SCHOONER</h3> +</div> + +<p>Dignity be hanged! I scudded down the beach as fast as my legs would +carry me. Alderson had been left alone at the cache and my heart was in +my throat.</p> + +<p>When I saw him strolling about with his hands in his pockets I could +have shouted for joy if I had had the breath. For I had half expected to +find him dead.</p> + +<p>He came forward quickly to meet me.</p> + +<p>"A tug rounded the bend five minutes since and stopped at the yacht, Mr. +Sedgwick," he told me.</p> + +<p>I looked out into the bay. A boat was just leaving the <i>Argos</i> for the +shore. At the point where the sailors presently beached it I was +waiting. Blythe jumped out and splashed through the shallow water to +meet me. From the look on his face it was clear that something had gone +wrong.</p> + +<p>Taking me by the arm he led me a few yards along the sand.</p> + +<p>"Bad news, Jack." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_267" id="pg_267">267</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Wallace was waylaid and kidnaped four days ago while she and her +aunt were driving."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Berry sent Philips down in a tug to let us know. But that is not +the worst. The day before the kidnaping Bothwell escaped from prison. It +is thought that his guards were bribed."</p> + +<p>I saw in a flash the cause of the Slav's gloating triumph. Evelyn was +his prisoner. He had her safely hidden somewhere in the mangrove swamps.</p> + +<p>We might dig the treasure up, but we would have to give him every cent +of it in ransom for her. That was his plan, and in it lay the elements +of success. For Blythe and Yeager, no more than I, would weigh gold +against her safety.</p> + +<p>We knew Bothwell. His civilization was a veneer. Disappointed of the +wealth he had come seeking, the man would revenge himself on the girl +who had stood in his way. I dared not think of the shame and degradation +he would make her suffer.</p> + +<p>I told Blythe of my meeting with Bothwell.</p> + +<p>My face must have been ashen, for Sam put a hand on my shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Keep a stiff upper lip, old chap. Bothwell won't +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_268" id="pg_268">268</a></span> hurt her until he is +pushed to it. Before that time comes we'll take care of her."</p> + +<p>"That's easy saying. But how? That prince of devils has her back there +in the swamps guarded by his ruffians. We don't know where they are. +This very minute she may be—— My God, think of the danger she runs!"</p> + +<p>Blythe shook his head.</p> + +<p>"She's safe till Bothwell gives the word. Not one of his fellows would +dare lift a hand against her. The captain would shoot him like a dog."</p> + +<p>"And Bothwell himself?"</p> + +<p>"She's safe yet, Jack. He's playing for the treasure and to marry her, +too. The man is not such a fool as to kill the goose that lays the +golden eggs. The hour of danger for her would be the one when he found +out that he had lost the treasure."</p> + +<p>"Let's give it to him. I'll go tell him he may have it all."</p> + +<p>"Easy, lad, easy. We must play our cards and not throw the hand down. We +must get hold of the treasure before we can make terms."</p> + +<p>"And let Evelyn stay in his hands without making an effort to free her?" +I demanded.</p> + +<p>"Did I say that, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do, then?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_269" id="pg_269">269</a></span></p> + +<p>"As soon as night falls we'll send a boat up the river to find out where +his camp is. We'll make a reconnaissance."</p> + +<p>"I'll go."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think somebody less impetuous would be better, Jack? We don't +want to spoil things by any premature attack."</p> + +<p>"I'm going, Sam. That's all there is to say about that."</p> + +<p>"All right. If you are, you are. But you'd better let me."</p> + +<p>"You may come along if you like."</p> + +<p>"No, if you go I'll have to stay by the ship against a possible attack. +Tom will have charge of the party that watches the treasure. The deuce +of it is that our force will be divided into three. I hope Bothwell does +not take the occasion to make mischief."</p> + +<p>Within the hour the tug that had brought Philips steamed back down the +harbor on the return trip to Panama. With it we sent Jimmie and the +steward. Dugan flatly declined to go, and since his wound was almost +healed the captain let him stay.</p> + +<p>This left us fourteen men, counting the former mutineers and the native +stokers. To go with me on my night expedition I chose Alderson and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_270" id="pg_270">270</a></span> +Smith. The guard for the treasure cache consisted of Yeager, Gallagher, +Barbados and Stubbs. The rest were to remain with the ship.</p> + +<p>The tide was coming in when we pulled from the <i>Argos</i> toward the mouth +of the Tuyra. The wash of the waves made it unnecessary for us to take +any precautions to muffle the sound of our oars and the darkness of the +night made detection at any distance improbable.</p> + +<p>One difficulty we did encounter. For the first few hundred yards of our +journey up the river we disturbed some of the numberless birds which had +settled for the night on the trees close to the banks. The flapping of +their wings gave notice of our approach as plainly as if a herald had +shouted it.</p> + +<p>We carried no light. The heavy tropical jungle growth on the mud flats +which extended on both sides of the river helped to increase the +darkness. Our progress was slow, for we had to make sure that we did not +slip past without noticing the schooner that had brought the pirates +down from Panama.</p> + +<p>The sound of voices on the water warned us that we were approaching the +boat of which we were in search. Very cautiously, keeping close to the +bushes along the shore, we drew near the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_271" id="pg_271">271</a></span> schooner which began to take +dim shape in the darkness.</p> + +<p>The tide was still strong, and it carried our boat across the bow of the +schooner. The anchor chain was hanging and served to hold us in place, +though with each lift of the tide I was afraid those on board would hear +us grind against her side. Intermittently the voices came to us, though +we could make out no words.</p> + +<p>We were in a good deal of danger, for any minute one of the crew might +saunter to the side of the vessel and look over. It was plain to me that +we could not stay here. Either we must go forward or back.</p> + +<p>Now back I would not go without finding whether Evelyn was here, and to +try to board the schooner in attack would be sheer madness. My mind +caught at a compromise.</p> + +<p>I whispered to Alderson directions, and when the jibboom of the schooner +came down with the next recession of a wave I swung myself to it by +means of the chain, using the stays to brace my foot.</p> + +<p>Here I lay for a minute getting my bearings, while the sailors in the +boat below backed quietly out of sight among the shore bushes that +overhung the banks. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_272" id="pg_272">272</a></span></p> + +<p>So far as I could see the deck was deserted. Carefully I edged on to the +bowsprit, crept along it, and let myself down gently to the deck. I +could see now that men were lying asleep at the other end of the vessel.</p> + +<p>One was standing with his back toward me beside the mizzen-mast. From +his clothes I guessed the watch to be a native.</p> + +<p>The voices that had come to us across the water still sounded, but more +faintly than before I had come on board. Evidently they were from below.</p> + +<p>Probably the speakers were in a cabin with the porthole open. I could +not be sure, but it struck me that one of them was a woman. My +impression was that she pleaded and that he threatened, for occasionally +the heavier voice was raised impatiently.</p> + +<p>From its scabbard I drew my revolver and crept forward in the shadow of +the bulwarks. My life hung on a hair; so too did that of the watchman +drowsing by the mast. If he looked up and turned I was lost, and so was +he.</p> + +<p>Foot by foot I stole toward the forecastle ladder, reached it, and +noiselessly passed down the stairs.</p> + +<p>I say noiselessly, yet I could hear my heart beat against my ribs as I +descended. For I knew now +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_273" id="pg_273">273</a></span> that the voices which came from behind the +closed door of the cabin to my right belonged to my sweetheart and to +Boris Bothwell.</p> + +<p>"Not I, but you," he was saying. "I'm hanged if I take the +responsibility. If you had trusted me we might have lifted the gold +without the loss of a drop of blood."</p> + +<p>"You are so worthy of trust!" Evelyn's voice answered with bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever known me to break my word? But let that pass. You chose +to reject my love and invite that meddler Sedgwick into our affairs. +What is the result? What have you gained?"</p> + +<p>"A knowledge of the difference between the love of a true man and that +of a false one," she answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"A true man! Oh, call him a fool and be done with it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, but I could love such folly."</p> + +<p>He seemed to strangle his irritation in his throat.</p> + +<p>"A lot of good it will do! You belong to me. That is written in the book +of your life, and what is to be will be. And I'll get the treasure, +too."</p> + +<p>"Never! You call them fools, but they have outwitted you from start to +finish."</p> + +<p>"They've pulled the chestnuts out of the fire for me, if that is what +you mean." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_274" id="pg_274">274</a></span></p> + +<p>"And as for me, I'm only a girl, but I swear before Heaven I'd rather +sink a knife into my heart than give myself to you."</p> + +<p>He clapped his hands ironically with a deep laugh like the bay of a +wolf.</p> + +<p>"Bravo! Well done! You'd make a fortune in tragedy, Evie. But dramatics +apart, you may make up your mind to it. I'm your master, and before +twenty-four hours shall be your mate. Why else have I brought this +broken wretch of a priest along, but to tie the knot in legal fashion? +I'm a reasonable man. Since you have a taste for the conventional and +decorum you shall have them. But priest or no priest, willy nilly, mine +you are and shall be."</p> + +<p>"You think everybody is a fool but yourself. Can't I see why you want +the marriage? It's not to please me, but through me to give you a legal +claim on the treasure."</p> + +<p>"Why do you always stir up the devil in me? I love you. I want to please +you. I'll treat you right if you'll let me."</p> + +<p>"Then send me back to the yacht, Boris. I'll give my word to divide the +treasure with you. My friends will do as I say. You don't want to break +my heart, do you? Think of all the dreadful murder that has been done by +you."</p> + +<p>"Not by me, but by you and your friends. I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_275" id="pg_275">275</a></span> offered to compromise and +you would not. Now it is too late. No, by God! I'll play the game out to +a fighting finish."</p> + +<p>She gave a sobbing little cry.</p> + +<p>"Have you no heart?"</p> + +<p>His voice fell a note. He moved close to her.</p> + +<p>"<i>Cherie</i>, you have stolen it and hold it fast in this little palm I +kiss!"</p> + +<p>By the sounds from within she must have struggled in vain. I told +myself:</p> + +<p>"Not yet, not yet!"</p> + +<p>"In such fashion my ancestor Bothwell wooed Mary Queen of Scots. Fain +she would, but dare not. She knew he was a man and a lover out of ten +thousand, and though her heart beat fast for him she was afraid. She +fled, and he followed. For he was a lover not to be denied, though a +king must die to clear the road. So it is with Boris, my queen."</p> + +<p>"You mean——?"</p> + +<p>The catch in her voice told me she breathed fast.</p> + +<p>He laughed, with that soft boisterousness that marked his merriment.</p> + +<p>"Your mad Irishman is no king, but he has crossed my path enough. Next +time he dies."</p> + +<p>"Because he has tried to serve me!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_276" id="pg_276">276</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because he is in my way. Reason enough for me."</p> + +<p>The door knob was in my hand. All I had to do was to open it and shoot +the man dead. But what after that? His men would swarm down and murder +me before the eyes of my love. And she would be left alone with a pack +of wolves which had already tasted blood.</p> + +<p>It was the hardest ordeal of my life to keep quiet while the fellow +pressed his hateful suit, pushed it with the passionate ardor of the +Slav, regardless of her tears, her despair, and her helplessness.</p> + +<p>For an hour—to make a guess at the time—she fought with all the +weapons a woman has at command, fending him off as best she could with +tears and sighs and entreaties.</p> + +<p>Then I heard a man stumbling down the ladder and moved aside. If he +should turn my way I was a dead man, for he must come plump against me. +He knocked on the door of the cabin.</p> + +<p>Bothwell opened and whispered with him a moment, then excused himself to +his cousin, locked the door, and followed the sailor up to the deck.</p> + +<p>I unlocked the door softly and walked into the cabin. By the dim light +of a hanging lantern I made out a rough room furnished only with two +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_277" id="pg_277">277</a></span> +bunks, one above the other, a deal table, and two cheap chairs.</p> + +<p>Evelyn had not heard me enter. She was standing with her back to me, +leaning against the woodwork of the bed, her face buried in one arm. +Despair and weariness showed in every line of the slight, drooping +figure.</p> + +<p>She must have heard me as I moved. She turned, the deep shadowy eyes +gleaming with fear. Never have I seen the soul's terror more vividly +flung to the surface.</p> + +<p>I suppose that for a moment she could not believe that it was I, and not +Bothwell. Perhaps she thought the ghost of me had come to say farewell +to her.</p> + +<p>She stared at me out of a face from which the color was gone, the great +eyes dilating as the truth came home to her. From her throat broke a +startled, stifled little cry.</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>I took her in my arms and her tired body came to me. The sensitive mouth +trembled, the eyes closed, a shiver of relief passed through her. She +clung to me as a frightened child does to its mother, burying her soft +cheeks on my shoulder.</p> + +<p>Then came sobs. The figure of my love rocked. The horror of what she had +been through engulfed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_278" id="pg_278">278</a></span> her as she told me her story in broken words, in +convulsive shivers, in silence so poignant that they stabbed my heart +like a needle.</p> + +<p>It was such a tale as no girl should have to tell, least of all to the +man she loves. But I had come in time—I had come in time. The knowledge +of that warmed me like champagne.</p> + +<p>I whispered love to her as I kissed in a passion of tenderness the +golden hair, the convolutions of the pink ears, the shadows beneath the +sad, tired eyes.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, how did you come?" she begged.</p> + +<p>I told her, in the fewest possible words, for it might be that our time +was brief. Briefly I outlined a plan for her rescue.</p> + +<p>I would send Alderson and Smith back for aid and would hide somewhere in +the vessel during their absence, to be ready in case she needed help.</p> + +<p>When Blythe arrived I would join her and barricade the cabin to protect +her until our friends had won the ship.</p> + +<p>"But if he should find you before——"</p> + +<p>I said then what any man with the red blood of youth still running +strong in his veins would say to the woman he loves when she is in +peril. Let it cost me what it would I was going to free her from these +wolves. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_279" id="pg_279">279</a></span></p> + +<p>Her deep eyes, soft with love, aglow with an adorable trust, met mine +for a long instant.</p> + +<p>"Do as you will, dear. But go now—before any one comes. And—God with +us, Jack!"</p> + +<p>Her arm slid round my neck, she drew my face down to hers, and kissed me +with a passion that I had not known was in her.</p> + +<p>"Remember, Jack—if I never see you again—no matter what happens—I +love you, dearest, for ever and ever."</p> + +<p>She whispered it brokenly, then pushed me from her toward the door.</p> + +<p>The last glimpse I had of her she was standing there in the shadows, +like a divine incarnation of love, her eyes raining upon me the soft +light that is the sweetest glimpse of heaven given to a man in this +storm-battered world.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_280" id="pg_280">280</a></span> +<a name="A_RAT_IN_A_TRAP_7562" id="A_RAT_IN_A_TRAP_7562"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>A RAT IN A TRAP</h3> +</div> + +<p>I groped my way forward in the darkness till I came to a room used for +storing purposes. Well up near the beams was a porthole. Too high for +me to reach, I presently found a large box which I upended cautiously +until it lay beneath the port. Standing on this I could look through +into the heavy foliage of the bushes projecting from the shore.</p> + +<p>Except for the lapping of the waves the night was very still. The moon +rode low in the sky. A fan-shaped wedge of light silvered the inky +river.</p> + +<p>I gave the signal agreed upon between me and my men, but no answering +flash of white replied to the wave of my handkerchief. Again I shook the +piece of linen from the porthole, and at intervals for fully five +minutes.</p> + +<p>Did Alderson see me? Or was there a reason why he could not answer? It +was impossible they could have been captured without some sound having +reached me. Nor was it more likely that they had deserted their post. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_281" id="pg_281">281</a></span></p> + +<p>The bushes stirred at last and the bow of a boat pushed through. Smith +stood up so that his face was just below mine. His finger was on his +lips.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't come any sooner, sir. Captain Bothwell was leaning over the +rail smoking a cigarette. I wonder he didn't see your handkerchief," he +whispered.</p> + +<p>I gave him orders concisely and the men backed the boat till the bushes +hid them. For me there was nothing left to do but wait. How long it +might be before Blythe would get back with a rescue party I could not +tell. The men in the boat would not dare to stir from their hiding-place +until the moon went under a cloud.</p> + +<p>The tide must now be at the full, so that it would be running out strong +before they got started. This would carry them swiftly back to the bay.</p> + +<p>I found myself giving my friends two hours as a minimum before they +could return to me. At the worst they should be here within four, unless +my messenger met with bad luck.</p> + +<p>But what about Bothwell? Would he force my hand before Blythe arrived? I +thought it very likely. There is something in the tropical air that +calls to the passion of a man, and reduces his sense of law till +restraint ebbs away.</p> + +<p>In Bothwell's case desire and interest went together. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_282" id="pg_282">282</a></span> He was a criminal +on more than one count, but the charges against him would in a measure +fall to the ground if he could drive Evie to marry him.</p> + +<p>Once she was his wife the kidnaping charge would not stick, and even his +black record on the <i>Argos</i> could be made to appear the chivalry of a +high-minded man saving the woman he loved from her enemies.</p> + +<p>Moreover, his claim to the treasure would then be a valid one. The man +was no fool. What he did must be done quickly. There lay before him one +safe road. Since that was the path he desired above all things to +follow, it was sure he would set out on it without delay.</p> + +<p>Her scruples had hitherto held him back, because it would be better she +should come of her own accord to him. But these could not hold him many +hours longer.</p> + +<p>The masterful insistence of the man had told me that, but no more +plainly than his mounting passion.</p> + +<p>I sat down on the box and waited. In that dark, stuffy hole the heat was +intense. The odor of food decomposing in the moisture of the tropics did +not add to my comfort.</p> + +<p>Sitting in cushioned chairs in club rooms with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_283" id="pg_283">283</a></span> a surfeit of comfort +within reach, men have argued in my presence that there is no such thing +as luck. Men win because of merit; they fail only if there is some lack +in themselves.</p> + +<p>This is a pleasant gospel for those who have found success, but it does +not happen to be true. Take my own case here. How could I foresee that a +barefooted, half-naked black cook would come into the storeroom to get a +pan of rice for next day's dinner?</p> + +<p>Or, as I lay crouched beside a box in the shadows beyond the dim circle +illumined by his candle, how could I know whether it were best to +announce myself or lie still?</p> + +<p>I submit that the part of wisdom was to let the fellow go in peace, and +this I did.</p> + +<p>But as he turned the light for an instant swept across me. He gave a +shriek and flung away both the candle and the pan of rice, bolting for +the door. I called to him to stop. For answer he slammed the door—<i>and +locked it</i>. Nor did my calls stay the slap of his retreating feet. I was +caught fast as a rat in a trap.</p> + +<p>I certainly had spilt the fat into the fire this time. Inside of five +minutes the passage outside was full of men. But during that time I had +been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_284" id="pg_284">284</a></span> an active Irishman. In front of me and around me I had piled a +barrier of boxes and barrels.</p> + +<p>"Who's in there?" Bothwell called.</p> + +<p>I fired through the door. Some one groaned. There was a sudden scurry of +retreating footsteps, followed by whisperings at the end of the passage. +These became imperative, rose and fell abruptly, so that I judged there +was a division of counsel.</p> + +<p>Presently Bothwell raised his voice and spoke again.</p> + +<p>"We've got you, whoever you are. My friend, you'll have a sick time of +it if you don't surrender without any more trouble. Do you hear me?"</p> + +<p>He waited for an answer, and got none. I had him guessing, for it was +impossible to know how many of us might be there. Moreover, there was a +chance of working upon the superstition of the natives among the crew. +The cook had very likely reported that he had seen a ghost.</p> + +<p>Except a shot out of the darkness no sound had come from me since. So +long as I kept silent the terror of the mystery would remain. Was I man +or devil? What was it spitting death at them from the black room?</p> + +<p>"We're going to batter that door down," went on Bothwell, "and then +we're going to make you wish you'd never been born." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_285" id="pg_285">285</a></span></p> + +<p>The voices fell again to a whispered murmur. Soon there would be a rush +and the door would be torn from its hinges. I made up my mind to get +Bothwell if I could before the end.</p> + +<p>Above the mutterings came clearly a frightened soprano.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Boris? What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>Evelyn had come out of her room to try to save me.</p> + +<p>"Just getting ready to massacre your friend," her cousin answered +promptly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sedgwick?"</p> + +<p>Terror shook in the voice that died in her throat.</p> + +<p>Bothwell bayed deep laughter.</p> + +<p>"O-ho! My friend from Erin once more—for the last time. Come out and +meet your welcome, Sedgwick."</p> + +<p>"Suppose you come and take me," I suggested.</p> + +<p>"By God, I will! Back with you into that room, girl."</p> + +<p>A door slammed and a key turned.</p> + +<p>Still the rush did not come. I waited, nerves strung to the highest +pitch. One could have counted sixty in the dead silence.</p> + +<p>I knew that some devilish plan had come to the man and that he was +working out the details of it in his mind. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_286" id="pg_286">286</a></span></p> + +<p>"Say the word, Cap," Fleming called to him impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Not just yet, my worthy George. We'll give the meddler an hour to say +his prayers. But I'm all for action. Since it isn't to be a funeral just +yet, what do you say to a marriage?"</p> + +<p>"I don't take you."</p> + +<p>"H-m! Hold this passage for a few minutes, George. You'll see what you'll +see."</p> + +<p>A key turned in a lock. When I heard his voice again the man had stepped +inside the cabin used by Evelyn. It lay just back of the storeroom and +the portholes of the two rooms were not six feet apart. Every word that +was said came clearly to me.</p> + +<p>"So you thought you'd trick me, my dear—thought you'd play a smooth +trick on your trusting cousin. Fie, Evie!"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do to Mr. Sedgwick?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"There's been some smooth work somewhere. I grant you that. How the +devil did he get aboard here? He didn't come alone. If he did, what has +become of the boat? Speak up, <i>m'amie</i>."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I'd tell you even if I knew?" she asked scornfully.</p> + +<p>He laughed softly, with diabolical enjoyment. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_287" id="pg_287">287</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think you would—and will. I have ways to force open closed mouths, +beloved."</p> + +<p>"You would—torture me?"</p> + +<p>"If it were necessary," he admitted coolly.</p> + +<p>She answered in a blaze of defiance.</p> + +<p>"Get out your iron cubes for my fingers, you black-hearted villain!"</p> + +<p>"Not for your soft fingers, <i>ma cherie</i>. I kiss them one by one as a +lover should. Shall we say for your friend's fingers? If you won't talk, +perhaps he will."</p> + +<p>"Are you all tiger, Boris? Isn't there somewhere in your heart a spark +of manhood?" she sobbed, her spirit melted at my danger.</p> + +<p>"Rhetorical questions, Evie. Shall we come to business? How did your +soon-to-be-deceased lover come on board? Who brought him? What were his +plans?"</p> + +<p>"If I tell you, will you spare him?" she begged.</p> + +<p>"I'll promise this," he assured her maliciously. "If you don't tell I'll +not spare him."</p> + +<p>She told all she knew except my plan of rescue. As soon as she mentioned +the boat in which I had come the fellow hurried up on deck to intercept +it.</p> + +<p>I could hear a boat scraping against the side of the schooner as it was +being lowered. Fleming and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_288" id="pg_288">288</a></span> two others got in and paddled back and forth +among the bushes. They found nothing.</p> + +<p>My friends had managed to slip away unseen and were headed for the +<i>Argos</i>. You may believe that I wished them a safe and speedy voyage.</p> + +<p>Bothwell came down the forecastle ladder swearing. He went straight to +Evelyn. Before he opened the door he was all suavity once more.</p> + +<p>"They've got away this time. Just as well perhaps. We'll be able to +concentrate our attention on the wedding festivities. Can you be ready +in half an hour, dear heart?"</p> + +<p>"Ready for what?" The words choked in her throat.</p> + +<p>"To make your lover a happy man. This is our wedding night, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Never! I'd rather lie at the bottom of the bay. I wouldn't marry you to +save my life."</p> + +<p>"H-m! You exaggerate, as is the manner of your charming sex. Now I'll +wager that you'd marry me to save—why, to save even that meddling +Irishman who is listening to our talk."</p> + +<p>She strangled a little cry of despair.</p> + +<p>"Why do you hate him so? Is it because he is so much better and braver +than you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't hate him. He annoys me. So I step on him, just as I do on this +spider." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_289" id="pg_289">289</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't, Boris. I'll give you all my share of the treasure. I'll forgive +you everything you've done. I'll see that you're not prosecuted. Be +merciful for once."</p> + +<p>"Don't get hysterical, Evie. Sedgwick understands he has got to pay. He +took a fighting chance and he has lost. It's all in the game." The +villain must have looked at his watch, and then yawned. "Past 10:30. +Excuse me for a half hour while I settle your friend's hash. Afterward +I'll be back with the priest."</p> + +<p>"No—no! I won't have it. Boris, if you ever loved me—Oh, God in +heaven, help me now!"</p> + +<p>I think that in her wild despair she had flung herself on her knees in +front of him. Her voice shook, broke almost into a scream.</p> + +<p>"Are these—dramatics—for yourself or for him?" Bothwell asked with a +sneer.</p> + +<p>"Don't kill him! Don't! I'll do whatever you say."</p> + +<p>"Will you marry me—at once—to-night?"</p> + +<p>I spoke up from the porthole where I was listening.</p> + +<p>"No, she won't, you scoundrel! As for me, I'd advise you to catch your +hare before you cook it."</p> + +<p>"I'm on my way to catch it now, dear Sedgwick, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_290" id="pg_290">290</a></span> just as soon as I break +away from the lady," he called back insolently.</p> + +<p>"I'll—marry you." The words came from a parched throat.</p> + +<p>"To-night," he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Not to-night," she begged. "When we get back to Panama."</p> + +<p>"No. I'm not going to give you a chance to welch. Now—here—on this +schooner."</p> + +<p>"Not to-night. I'm so—weary and—unstrung. I'll do whatever you say, +but—give me time to—to—Oh, I'm afraid!"</p> + +<p>"Bothwell, you cur, come in here and you and I will see this out to a +finish!" I cried in helpless fury.</p> + +<p>"Presently, my dear Sedgwick. I'll be there soon enough, and that's a +promise. But ladies first. You wouldn't have me delay my wedding, would +you?"</p> + +<p>I flung myself against the door repeatedly and tried to beat it down, +but my rage was useless. The lock and the hinges held. Back I went to my +porthole.</p> + +<p>"Evelyn, are you there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," came the answer in a choked voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't do it. What are you thinking of? I'd +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_291" id="pg_291">291</a></span> rather die a hundred deaths +than have you marry him."</p> + +<p>"I must, Jack. If you should be killed—and I could have prevented +it—— Oh, don't you see I must?"</p> + +<p>The words were wrung from her in a cry, as if she had been a tortured +child.</p> + +<p>"Of course she must. But why make a tragedy of it? By Heaven, you wound +my vanity between the pair of you. Am I not straight—as good a man as +my neighbor—still young? Come, let us make an end of the +heavy-villain-and-hero business. You, my dear Sedgwick, shall stand up +and give the bride away. That is to say, you shall stand at your +porthole. You'll find rice in a sack to scatter if you will. We want you +to enjoy yourself. Don't we, Evie?" Bothwell jeered blithely.</p> + +<p>"You devil from hell!"</p> + +<p>"Pooh! Be reasonable, man. We can't both marry the maid, and by your +leave I think the best man wins. Abrupt I may be, but every <i>Katherine</i> +is the better for her <i>Petruchio</i>." He turned to her, dropping his irony +for tones of curt command. "I'll be back in twenty minutes with the +parson. Be ready then."</p> + +<p>With that he turned on his heel and left, locking the door behind him.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_292" id="pg_292">292</a></span> +<a name="A_RESCUE_7905" id="A_RESCUE_7905"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>A RESCUE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Even now when it is only a memory I do not like to look back upon that +twenty minutes. My poor girl was hysterical, but decided. Neither +argument nor entreaty could move her from her resolution to save my +life, no matter what the cost. I pleaded in vain.</p> + +<p>"I can't let you die, Jack—I can't—I can't." So she answered all my +appeals, with a kind of hopeless despair that went straight to my heart.</p> + +<p>Through my remonstrances there broke a high-pitched voice jabbering +something in Spanish of a sort. The sound of running footsteps on the +deck above came to us. Some one called a warning.</p> + +<p>"Keep back there or we'll fire!"</p> + +<p>Then my heart leaped, for across the water came the cool, steady voice +of Blythe.</p> + +<p>"My man, I want to talk with Bothwell."</p> + +<p>More feet pattered back and forth on the deck, and among the hurrying +steps was one sharp and strong. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_293" id="pg_293">293</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good evening, Captain Blythe. You're rather late for a call, aren't +you? Mr. Sedgwick was in better time. We have to thank him for an hour's +pleasant entertainment."</p> + +<p>I recognized the voice as belonging to Bothwell.</p> + +<p>"If you've hurt a hair of his head I'll hold you personally to account. +Unless you want me to board your schooner you will at once release Mr. +Sedgwick and Miss Wallace."</p> + +<p>"Miss Wallace has practically ceased to exist," the Russian drawled.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I shall have the honor to send you cards, captain. Miss Wallace has +become my wife."</p> + +<p>I stuck my head out of the porthole and shouted. "That's a lie, Sam. +You're just in time to save her."</p> + +<p>"Are you a prisoner, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. So is she. In the next cabin." Some one stepped quickly across the +deck and leaned over the rail above me. Bothwell's dark face looked down +into mine. He leveled a revolver at my head and fired just as I drew +back.</p> + +<p>That shot served as a signal for the attack. Bullets sang back and +forth, some from the schooner, others from the boats of my friends.</p> + +<p>As for the battle, I saw from my porthole only +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_294" id="pg_294">294</a></span> the edge of it, and that +but for a few moments as a boat full of men swept forward. Someone was +firing with a rifle, while the others put their backs to the oars.</p> + +<p>Presently the boat swept round the bow of the schooner and was lost to +my view. But I could hear the firing of guns, the trampling of men +above, and from their words could tell that the attackers were keeping +their distance, even though they were firing pretty steadily from the +cover of the shore bushes.</p> + +<p>I must confess that Blythe's method of attack surprised me. How many men +Bothwell had I did not know, but it was plain to me that the only way to +take the ship was to rush it. We might fire at long distance for a week +without doing more than keep them busy.</p> + +<p>That I was wild to be free and in the thick of it may be guessed. +Knowing as I did how matters stood between Evelyn and her cousin, I saw +that she must be rescued at once to prevent the unholy marriage the Slav +planned.</p> + +<p>Strange that Sam could not see this and that he had not led a more +dashing attempt at succoring the girl.</p> + +<p>Three taps on the door of my prison jerked me round as if I had been +pulled by a string. My revolver +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_295" id="pg_295">295</a></span> was in my hand. The door opened slowly +and let in a man.</p> + +<p>"That's far enough. What do you want?" I asked brusquely.</p> + +<p>"S-sh! It's me, Mr. Sedgwick. Are you in irons?"</p> + +<p>It was Gallagher. If I had been a Frenchman I would have kissed his ugly +old mug for the sheer pleasure of seeing it. I knew now that Blythe had +kept up the long distance fusillade in order to distract the attention +of the defenders while Gallagher had crept close from the shore side.</p> + +<p>I ran forward.</p> + +<p>"Where is your boat?"</p> + +<p>"Hidden in the bushes. Alderson is with it. Where is the lady, sir?"</p> + +<p>In another minute Evelyn was free and standing with us in the passage. I +noticed that the fire of the attackers had grown more rapid. The sound +seemed closer. The demonstration was taking on the appearance of a real +boarding expedition.</p> + +<p>We climbed the forecastle ladder. I led the way, revolver in hand. From +where I stood, a few steps from the top of the ladder, my eyes could +sweep the forward deck.</p> + +<p>Bothwell, the Flemings, and perhaps half a dozen dark-skinned sailors +were crouching behind the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_296" id="pg_296">296</a></span> bulwarks, raising their heads above the rail +only to shoot.</p> + +<p>A constant crackling of small arms filled the air. The boats had crept +nearer and were pouring a very steady fire upon the defenders.</p> + +<p>The forward movement was only a diversion under cover of which we might +have a chance to escape, but it was being executed with so much +briskness and spirit that Bothwell could not guess its harmless nature.</p> + +<p>At my signal the sailor led Evelyn quickly toward the poop. With my eyes +over my left shoulder I followed at their heels. We had all but reached +the stern when I heard the smack of a fist and turned in time to see a +Panama peon hit the deck full length.</p> + +<p>He had been hurrying forward and had caught sight of us. His mouth was +open to shout an alarm at the time the Irishman's fist had landed +against the double row of shining teeth.</p> + +<p>The fellow rolled over and was up like an acrobat. But my revolver, +pointing straight at his stomach, steadied him in an instant.</p> + +<p>"Don't move or shout," I warned.</p> + +<p>From the bushes Alderson had been waiting for us and his boat was in +place. He flung up a rope +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_297" id="pg_297">297</a></span> ladder with grappling hooks on the end. +Gallagher fixed them to the rail and helped Evelyn down.</p> + +<p>"You next," I ordered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Your turn now, Sambo," I told the peon after the sailor had gone.</p> + +<p>The fellow rolled his eyes wildly toward the stem of the vessel but +found no hope from that quarter. He clambered over the rail like a +monkey and went down hand after hand. I followed him.</p> + +<p>We were huddled promiscuously in the little boat so that it rocked to +the very lip. For a half a minute I was afraid we were going down, but a +shift in position by Gallagher steadied the shell.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Alderson had thrown his muscles into the oars and we drew away +steadily; fifty strokes, and the shadows had swallowed us.</p> + +<p>Alderson pulled across the river and let the boat drift down the +opposite bank. The outgoing tide carried us swiftly. We slipped past the +schooner unobserved. Gallagher blew twice on a whistle and the two boats +commanded by Blythe and Yeager at once drew back into safety.</p> + +<p>Some three hundred yards farther down stream they caught up with us.</p> + +<p>"All right, Jack?" Blythe called across to me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_298" id="pg_298">298</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right, Sam."</p> + +<p>"Miss Wallace is with you, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and one other passenger who nearly swamped us. Can you take our +prisoner?"</p> + +<p>His boat pulled up beside us and relieved us of one very frightened +Panama peon. We were very glad to be rid of him, for a dozen times the +waves had nearly swamped our overloaded skiff and I had been bailing +every second.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later we reached the <i>Argos</i>.</p> + +<p>From Blythe I learned that Gallagher had been responsible for the plan +by means of which he had rescued us. Moreover, he had insisted on taking +the stellar rôle in carrying it out, dangerous as the part had been. It +was his way of wiping out his share in the mutiny.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_299" id="pg_299">299</a></span> +<a name="THE_LAST_BRUSH_8092" id="THE_LAST_BRUSH_8092"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3>THE LAST BRUSH</h3> +</div> + +<p>We resumed next morning the digging for the treasure. The shore party +was made up of Blythe, Yeager, Smith, Higgins and Barbados.</p> + +<p>Those of us left on board had a lazy time of it. I arranged watches of +two to guard against any surprise on the part of the enemy either by an +attack upon the yacht or by a sally along the shore upon the treasure +diggers.</p> + +<p>Having divided my men into watches, I discharged my mind of +responsibility. Evelyn and I had a thousand things to tell each other. +We sat on the upper deck under the tarpaulin and forgot everything +except that we were lovers reunited after dreadful peril.</p> + +<p>Youth is resilient. One would scarce have believed that this girl +bubbling over with life and spirits was the same one who had been in +such hopeless despair a few hours earlier.</p> + +<p>A night's good sleep had set her up wonderfully.</p> + +<p>Last night I had looked into tired eyes that had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_300" id="pg_300">300</a></span> not yet fully escaped +from the shadows of tragedy, into the sharp oval of a colorless face +from which waves of storm had washed the life.</p> + +<p>This morning the sun shone for her.</p> + +<p>Courage had flowed back into her heart. Swift love ran now and again +through her cheeks and tinted them.</p> + +<p>She was herself, golden and delicate, elastic and vivid as a captured +nymph.</p> + +<p>"When I left the old <i>Argos</i> I thought I never wanted to see the yacht +again, but now I think I could be happy here all my life," she confided.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you prefer to have your cousin just a few miles farther away?"</p> + +<p>She fell grave for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he'll try to do more mischief?"</p> + +<p>"He'll try. That's a safe bet. But I think we have him checkmated. By +night we ought to have the bulk of the treasure on board. Once we get it +the <i>Argos</i> will show him her heels."</p> + +<p>Four bells sounded, six, eight. Dugan came down from the bridge to +report to me.</p> + +<p>"Captain Blythe's party coming down to the beach, sir."</p> + +<p>Two of the men were carrying a large chest. It was so heavy that every +forty or fifty yards relays relieved each other. The box was brought +down +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_301" id="pg_301">301</a></span> to the edge of the water and loaded into a boat. Smith and Higgins +took their places at the oars and Blythe stepped into the bow.</p> + +<p>The cargo seemed to call for tackle and ropes. I had them ready before +the boat reached us. Blythe superintended the hoisting of the chest, +arranging the ropes so as to make a slip impossible. We hauled it safely +aboard.</p> + +<p>"Have it taken to the strong room, Sam. There's another waiting for us +ashore," Blythe explained.</p> + +<p>"Want me to go back for it?"</p> + +<p>"No. Keep a sharp lookout for our friend up the river."</p> + +<p>He was pulled ashore again and returned two hours later with a second +chest, this time leaving Yeager and Barbados on guard at the cache. +Gallagher and Alderson were sent ashore later to join Tom's party for +the night watch.</p> + +<p>A few more hours' work would be enough to lift the rest of the treasure. +Already we had on board a fortune in doubloons and bars of gold, but +there was still one more chest to be unearthed. We felt that we were +near the end of our adventure and our spirits were high.</p> + +<p>Blythe got out his violin and Evie sang some of her plantation songs, +her soft voice falling easily into the indolent negro dialect. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_302" id="pg_302">302</a></span></p> + +<p>My stunt was Irish stories. We dragooned the staid Morgan into playing +the piano while we ragged.</p> + +<p>It must have been close to midnight before we spoke of breaking up.</p> + +<p>Evelyn and I took a turn on the deck. Our excuse was to get a breath of +fresh air, but the truth is that we were always drifting together.</p> + +<p>Even in the company of others our eyes had a way of sending wireless +messages of which we two only understood the code.</p> + +<p>We leaned against the rail and looked across the bay. It was a night of +ragged clouds behind which the moon was screened.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that a boat over there?" Evie asked, pointing in the direction of +the river mouth.</p> + +<p>The moon had peeped out and was flinging a slant of light over the +water. I looked for a long minute.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I believe it's Bothwell's schooner. He has slipped out unnoticed. +The fellow must mean mischief."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope not," said Evie, and she gave a little shiver.</p> + +<p>A sound came faintly over the water to us from the shore. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_303" id="pg_303">303</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you hear that?" Evelyn turned to me, her face white in the shining +moonbeam.</p> + +<p>A second pistol shot followed the first.</p> + +<p>"Trouble at the cache!"</p> + +<p>I turned toward the pavilion and met Blythe. Already he was flinging a +crisp order to the watch.</p> + +<p>"Lower a boat, Neidlinger. Smith will help you. That you, Higgins? Rouse +all hands from sleep. We've work afoot."</p> + +<p>Again came a faint echo across the still waters, followed by two sharper +explosions. Some one had brought a rifle into action.</p> + +<p>Blythe turned to me. "It's my place to stand by the ship, Jack. This may +be a ruse to draw us off. I can spare you one man to go ashore and see +what the trouble is. Take your pick."</p> + +<p>I chose Smith.</p> + +<p>"Keep a sharp lookout, Jack. He's wily as the devil, Bothwell is. Better +not land at the usual place. He may have an ambush planted."</p> + +<p>"All right, Sam."</p> + +<p>The Englishman turned to give Stubbs orders for arming the crew.</p> + +<p>In the darkness a groping little hand found mine.</p> + +<p>"Must you go, Jack? I—wish you would stay here."</p> + +<p>My arm slid around the shoulders of my girl. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_304" id="pg_304">304</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's up to me to go, honey."</p> + +<p>We were alone under the awning. Her soft arms went round my neck and her +fingers laced themselves.</p> + +<p>"You'll be careful, won't you? It's all so horrible. I thought it was +all over, and now—— Oh, boy, I'm afraid!"</p> + +<p>"Don't worry. Blythe will hold the ship."</p> + +<p>"Of course. It isn't that. It's <i>you</i>. I don't want you to go. Let Mr. +Stubbs."</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"No, dear. That won't do. It's my place to go. But you needn't worry. +The gods take care of lovers. I'll come back all right."</p> + +<p>Her interlaced fingers tightened behind my neck.</p> + +<p>"Don't be reckless, then. You're so foolhardy. I couldn't bear it if—if +anything happened to you."</p> + +<p>"Nothing will happen except that I shall come back to brag of our +victory," I smiled.</p> + +<p>"If I could be sure!" she cried softly.</p> + +<p>The sinister sound of shots had drifted to us as we talked. The boat was +by this time lowered and I knew I must be gone. Gently I unclasped the +knotted fingers.</p> + +<p>"Must you go <i>already</i>?" She made no other protest, but slipped a plain +band ring from her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_305" id="pg_305">305</a></span> finger to my hand. "I want you to have something of +mine with you, so that——"</p> + +<p>Her voice broke, but I knew she meant so that the gods of war might know +she claimed ownership and send me back safe. For another instant she lay +on my heart, then offered me her lips and surrendered me to my duty.</p> + +<p>"Ready, Jack!" called Blythe cheerfully.</p> + +<p>I ran across the deck and joined the man in the skiff. We pushed off and +bent to the stroke. As our oars gripped the water the sound of another +far, faint explosion drifted to us.</p> + +<p>We landed a couple of hundred yards to the right of the spit and dragged +our little boat into some bushes close to the shore.</p> + +<p>I gave Smith instructions to stay where he was unless he heard the +hooting of an owl. If the call came once he was to advance very quietly; +if twice, as fast as he could cover the ground.</p> + +<p>The mosquitoes were a veritable plague. As I moved forward they swarmed +around me in a cloud. Unfortunately I had not taken the time to bring +the face netting with which we all equipped ourselves when going ashore.</p> + +<p>Before I had covered fifty yards I heard voices raised as in anger. +Presently I made out the sharp, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_306" id="pg_306">306</a></span> imperious tones of Bothwell and the +dogged persistent ones of Henry Fleming.</p> + +<p>"I'll do as I please. Understand that, my man!" The words were snapped +out with a steel edge to them.</p> + +<p>"No, by thunder, you won't! I don't care about the cattleman, but +Gallagher and Alderson were my shipmates. I'm no murderous pirate."</p> + +<p>"You'll hang for one, you fool, if you're not careful. Didn't Gallagher +desert to the enemy? Wasn't Alderson against us from start to finish? +Didn't one of them give me this hole in my arm just now? They'll either +join us or go to the sharks," Bothwell announced curtly.</p> + +<p>From where I stood, perhaps forty yards north of the cache, I could make +out that my friends were prisoners. No doubt the pirate had taken them +at advantage and forced a surrender. Of Barbados I could see no sign. +Later I learned that he had taken to his heels at the first shot.</p> + +<p>Twice I gave the hoot of an owl. Falling clearly on the still night, the +effect of my signal was startling.</p> + +<p>"What was that, boss?" asked a Panamanian faintly.</p> + +<p>"An owl, you fool," retorted Bothwell impatiently. "Come, I give you one +more chance, Gallagher. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_307" id="pg_307">307</a></span> Will you join us and share the booty? Or shall +I blow out your brains?"</p> + +<p>Gallagher, from where he lay on the ground, spoke out firmly:</p> + +<p>"I'll sail no more with murderous mutineers."</p> + +<p>"Bully for you, partner!" boomed the undaunted voice of the cattleman.</p> + +<p>"And you, Alderson?"</p> + +<p>"I stand with my friends, Captain Bothwell."</p> + +<p>"The more fool you, for you'll be a long time dead. Stand back, +Fleming."</p> + +<p>As I ran forward I let out a shout.</p> + +<p>Simultaneously a revolver cracked.</p> + +<p>Bothwell cursed furiously, for Henry Fleming had struck up the arm of +the murderer.</p> + +<p>The Russian turned furiously on the engineer and fired point-blank at +him.</p> + +<p>The bullet must have struck him somewhere, for the man gave a cry.</p> + +<p>Bothwell whirled upon me and fired twice as I raced across the moonlit +sand.</p> + +<p>A flash of lightning seared my shoulder but did not stop me.</p> + +<p>"Ha! The meddler again! Stung you that time, my friend," he shouted, and +fired at me a third time.</p> + +<p>They were the last words he was ever to utter +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_308" id="pg_308">308</a></span>. One moment his dark, +venomous face craned toward me above the smoke of his revolver, the next +it was slowly sinking to the ground in a contorted spasm of pain and +rage.</p> + +<p>For George Fleming had avenged the attempt upon his brother's life with +a shot in the back.</p> + +<p>Bothwell was dead almost before he reached the ground.</p> + +<p>For a moment we all stood in a dead silence, adjusting our minds to the +changed conditions.</p> + +<p>Then one of the natives gave a squeal of terror and turned to run. Quick +as a flash the rest of them—I counted nine and may have missed one or +two—were scuttling off at his heels.</p> + +<p>George Fleming stared at the body of his chief which lay so still on the +ground with the shining moon pouring its cold light on the white face.</p> + +<p>Then slowly his eyes came up to meet mine.</p> + +<p>In another moment he and his brother were crashing through the lush +underbrush to the beach. I judged from the rapidity with which Henry +moved that he could not be much hurt. From the opposite direction Smith +came running up.</p> + +<p>I dropped to my knees beside Yeager and cut the thongs that tied his +hands.</p> + +<p>"Hurt?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered in deep disgust at himself. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_309" id="pg_309">309</a></span> "I stumbled over a root +and hit my head against this tree right after the game opened. Gallagher +and Alderson had to play it out alone. But Bothwell must have had +fourteen men with him. He got Gallagher in the leg and rushed Alderson. +You dropped in right handy, Jack."</p> + +<p>"And not a minute too soon. By Jove! we ran it pretty fine this trip. +Badly hurt, Gallagher?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Hit in the thigh."</p> + +<p>I examined the wound as well as I could and found it not as bad as it +might have been.</p> + +<p>"A good clean flesh wound. You're in luck, Gallagher. The last two days +have more than wiped out your week of mutiny. We're all deep in your +debt."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," he said, flushing with pleasure.</p> + +<p>Here I may put it down that this was the last word Gallagher heard about +his lapse from duty. He and the other reconstructed mutineers were +forgiven, their fault wiped completely off the slate.</p> + +<p>I sent Alderson down to the spit to signal the <i>Argos</i> for a boat. One +presently arrived with Stubbs and Higgins at the oars. The little +cockney was struck with awe at sight of the dead man.</p> + +<p>"My heye, Mr. Sedgwick, 'e's got 'is at larst and none too soon. 'Ow did +you do it?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't do it. One of his friends did." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_310" id="pg_310">310</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, 'e 'ad it comin' to 'im, sir. But I'll sye for him that 'e was a +man as well as a devil."</p> + +<p>We helped Gallagher down to the boat and he and I were taken aboard.</p> + +<p>The wound in my shoulder was but a scratch.</p> + +<p>It was enough, however, to let me in for a share of the honors with +Gallagher.</p> + +<p>In truth I had done nothing but precipitate by my arrival the final +tragedy; but love, they say, is blind.</p> + +<p>It was impossible for me to persuade Evelyn that I had not been the hero +of the occasion.</p> + +<p>She could appreciate the courage of the three men who had chosen death +rather than to join Bothwell in his nefarious plans, but she was caught +by the melodramatic entry I had made upon the stage.</p> + +<p>"You were one against fourteen, but that didn't stop you at all. Of +course the others were brave, but——"</p> + +<p>"Sheer nonsense, my dear. Any one can shout 'Villain, avaunt!' and +prance across the sand, but there wasn't any pleasant excitement about +looking Boris Bothwell in the eye and telling him to shoot and be +hanged. That took sheer, cold, unadulterated nerve, and my hat's off to +the three of them." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_311" id="pg_311">311</a></span></p> + +<p>She leaned toward me out of the shadow, and the light in her eyes was +wonderful.</p> + +<p>With all the innocence of a Grecian nymph they held, too, the haunting, +wistful pathos of eternal motherhood.</p> + +<p>She yearned over me, almost as if I had been the son of her dreams.</p> + +<p>"Boy, Jack, I'm glad it's over—so glad—so glad. I love you—and I've +been afraid for you."</p> + +<p>Desire of her, of the sweet brave spirit in its beautiful sheath of +young flesh, surged up in my blood irresistibly.</p> + +<p>I caught her to my heart and kissed the soft corn-silk hair, the deep +melting eyes, the ripe red lips.</p> + +<p>By Heaven, I had fought for her and had won her! She was the gift of +love, won in stark battle from the best fighter I had ever met.</p> + +<p>The mad Irish blood in me sang.</p> + +<p>After all I am not the son of a filibuster for nothing.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_312" id="pg_312">312</a></span> +<a name="IN_HARBOR_8480" id="IN_HARBOR_8480"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<h3>IN HARBOR</h3> +</div> + +<p>The morning found me as good as new except for a dull ache in my +shoulder. I was up betimes for breakfast and ready for shore duty.</p> + +<p>Yet I was glad to accept Blythe's orders to stay on board as long as we +remained in Darien Harbor.</p> + +<p>It was good to avoid the sun and the mosquitoes and the moist heat of +the jungle, though I felt a little guilty at lying in a hammock on the +shady side of the deck with Evelyn at my side, while my friends were +perspiring in the burning sand pits with shovel and pick.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, it was only a few hours before the last of the boxes buried +by Bucks was uncovered. Jamaica Ginger's hatchet found it a good fifty +yards from the others. Within an hour it had been dragged out of the +dirt and brought aboard.</p> + +<p>We sailed the same afternoon about twelve hours later than the schooner, +which had quietly slipped +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_313" id="pg_313">313</a></span> past us on its way to the sea in the faint +light of early dawn.</p> + +<p>That Fleming had given up the attempt to win the treasure was plain. I +doubt whether his men would have followed him even if he had wished it, +for he had not the dominant temper of his chief.</p> + +<p>We dropped anchor under the lee of a little island in the Boco Chico, +but our engines were throbbing again by break of day. As we puffed +across the North Bay we passed the schooner almost within a stone's +throw.</p> + +<p>Henry Fleming was on deck, and half a dozen of the blacks and browns who +made up the crew swarmed to the side of the vessel to see us. Blythe had +made quiet preparations in case any attempt at stopping us should be +made, but apparently nothing was farther from the thoughts of the enemy.</p> + +<p>In fact several of the dusky deck hands waved us a friendly greeting as +we drove swiftly past. From that day to this I have never seen any +member of that crew, though a letter received last week from +Gallagher—who is doing well in the cattle business in the +Argentine—mentioned that he had run across Henry Fleming at Buenos +Ayres.</p> + +<p>Out of the Gulf of San Miguel we pushed past Brava Point as fast as +Stubbs could send the <i>Argos</i>. The lights of Panama called to us. They +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_314" id="pg_314">314</a></span> +stood for law and civilization and the blessed dominance of the old +stars and stripes.</p> + +<p>We were in a hurry to get back to the broad piazzas of its hotels, where +women at their ease did fancy work and played bridge while laughing +children romped without fear.</p> + +<p>Adventure is all very well, but I have discovered that one can get a +surfeit of it.</p> + +<p>Before the division of the treasure there arose a point of morality +that, oddly enough, had not been considered before. It was born of my +legal conscience and for a few minutes was disturbing.</p> + +<p>Tom and I were in Blythe's cabin with him discussing an equitable +division of the spoils. Into my mind popped the consideration that we +were not the owners of it all but certain remote parties in Peru.</p> + +<p>After having fought for it and won it the treasure was not ours. The +thing hit me like a blow in the face. I spoke my thought aloud. Sam +looked blankly at me.</p> + +<p>Yeager laughed grimly. There was a good deal of the primitive man still +in the Arizonian.</p> + +<p>"If they want it let them come and take it. I reckon finding is +keeping."</p> + +<p>But I knew the matter could not be settled so easily as that. A moral +question had arisen and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_315" id="pg_315">315</a></span> it had to be faced. Evelyn was called into +counsel.</p> + +<p>She had an instant solution of the difficulty.</p> + +<p>"We can't return it even if we want to. The town of Cerro Blanco and the +neighboring mines were destroyed by an earthquake in 1819. Not a soul at +the mines escaped and only a few peasants from the town. You will find +the whole story in Vanbrough's 'Great Earthquakes.'"</p> + +<p>"Then, after all, we are the rightful owners."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we are," she smiled.</p> + +<p>Blythe, already as wealthy as he cared to be, declined to accept any +share of our spoils beyond the expenses of the cruise. Each of the +sailors received a good-sized lump sum, as did also Philips and Morgan.</p> + +<p>Rather against the wishes of our captain the three former mutineers +shared with the rest of the crew. We did not of course forget the +relatives of the men who had fallen in our defense.</p> + +<p>The boatswain Caine left a widow and two children. We put her upon a +pension until she married a grocer two years later.</p> + +<p>We were never able to hear that she thought the loss of husband number +one anything but a good riddance.</p> + +<p>Jimmie's share went into a fund, which is being managed by Yeager and me +as trustees. It is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_316" id="pg_316">316</a></span> enough to keep him and his mother while the boy is +being educated and to leave a small nest-egg in addition.</p> + +<p>Yeager, of course, put his profits into cattle. Since Evelyn and I moved +to Los Angeles we see a good deal of Tom and his wife. At least once +during the winter we run across to his Arizona ranch for a week or two. +His boy is just old enough to give his name proudly with a lisp as "Tham +Blythe Yeager."</p> + +<p>Ours is a girl. She has the golden hair and the sparkling spirit of her +mother.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>N. B.—The autocrat of the household has just read the last line as she +leans over my shoulder. She will give me no peace till I add that the +baby has the blue, Irish eyes of her dad.</p> + +<p style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:3em; text-align:center;'>THE END</p> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h3><a name="NEW_and_POPULAR_BOOKS" id="NEW_and_POPULAR_BOOKS"></a>NEW <i>and</i> POPULAR BOOKS</h3> + +<p>GODDESS OF THE DAWN</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">Margaret Davies Sullivan</span>. The spirit of youth and lightsome joy +permeates this story of pure, exulting womanhood. The dominant love +episode of Doris with a high-minded sculptor, struggling to retrieve his +father's sin; her revolt against marriage to Chapman and her brief union +with weak, handsome Arthur make a love story par excellence. It depicts +love as it really comes and molds and mars. Its happy ending tells how +it rewards. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Net $1.25.</p> + +<p>FLYING U RANCH</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">B. M. Bower</span>. The best Bower story since "Chip of the Flying U." Here +we have the well known characters of Chip; Pink; Andy Green; Irish; +Weary; Big Medicine; the Countess; the Little Doctor; the Kid and a +newcomer—Miguel Rapponi. How the Flying U was harassed by the sheep +herders and how "the bunch" wins out, completes a story without a peer +in the realm of Western fiction. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Net $1.25.</p> + +<p>THE LURE</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">George Scarborough</span>. Founded upon his great play that aroused such +wide-spread controversy, the book tells of a secret service officer's +investigations into the White Slave traffic; of his discovery of the +girl he loved in a disreputable employment agency and of her dramatic +rescue. A true situation, depicted boldly and frankly but without +pruriency. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated from scenes in the play. Net $1.25.</p> + +<p>THE WASP</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">Theodore Goodridge Roberts</span>. A picturesque tale of an English pirate +whose depredations on the high seas were so ferocious that he was called +<i>The Wasp</i> because of the keenness of his sting. Glutted with looting, +he enlists in the navy and gives up his life defending his country's +flag. A love story with the winsome Kitty Trimmer for its heroine lends +a fascinating charm to the narrative. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Net +$1.25</p> + +<p>THE PRICE</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">George Broadhurst</span> and <span class="smcap">Arthur Hornblow</span>, authors of "Bought and Paid +For." Founded upon the play, this is a powerful story of a woman's +desperate struggle to save her reputation and her happiness. How she +tries to sink the memory of a foolish entanglement with another woman's +husband in her own marriage with the man she really loved and how she +paid the subsequent bitter price of her folly forms a dramatic theme of +deep human interest. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated with scenes from play. Net +$1.25.</p> + +<p>MATTHEW FERGUSON</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">Margaret Blake</span>, author of "The Greater Joy;" "The Voice of the +Heart." How the hero, by virtue of a self-evolved, infallible system, +speedily climbs to the top of his profession in New York; how he saves +the woman he loves from a fate worse than death, and then, to save his +honor, discards the system that made his success, forms a vividly +realistic and powerful story. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Net $1.25.</p> + +<hr class='adbreak' /> + +<h3><i>Nine Splendid Novels by</i><br /> +WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE</h3> + +<p>THE PIRATE OF PANAMA</p> + +<p>A tale of old-time pirates and of modern love, hate and adventure. The +scene is laid in San Francisco on board <i>The Argus</i> and in Panama. A +romantic search for the lost pirate gold. An absorbing love-story runs +through the book.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Jacket in Colors. Net $1.25.</i></p> + +<p>THE VISION SPLENDID</p> + +<p>A powerful story in which a man of big ideas and fine ideals wars +against graft and corruption. A most satisfactory love affair terminates +the story.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Net $1.25.</i></p> + +<p>CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT</p> + +<p>A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter +feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual +woman and her love-story reaches a culmination that is fittingly +characteristic of the great free West.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition 50 cents.</i></p> + +<p>BRAND BLOTTERS</p> + +<p>A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of +the frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor with a charming love +interest running through its 320 pages.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Jacket in Colors. Popular Edition 50 cents.</i></p> + +<p>"MAVERICKS"</p> + +<p>A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations +are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One +of the sweetest love stories ever told.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> + +<p>A TEXAS RANGER</p> + +<p>How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into +the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of +thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed +through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> + +<p>WYOMING</p> + +<p>In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the +breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the +frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> + +<p>RIDGWAY OF MONTANA</p> + +<p>The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and +mining industries are the religion of the country. The political +contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story +great strength and charm.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> + +<p>BUCKY O'CONNOR</p> + +<p>Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with +the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing +fascination of style and plot.</p> + +<p><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> + +<hr class='adbreak' /> + +<h3><a name="Books_by_Edward_Marshall" id="Books_by_Edward_Marshall"></a>Books by Edward Marshall</h3> + +<p>BAT—An Idyl of New York</p> + +<p>"The heroine has all the charm of Thackeray's Marchioness in New York +surroundings."—<i>New York Sun.</i> "It would be hard to find a more +charming, cheerful story."—<i>New York Times.</i> "Altogether +delightful."—<i>Buffalo Express.</i> "The comedy is delicious."—<i>Sacramento +Union.</i> "It is as wholesome and fresh as the breath of +springtime."—<i>New Orleans Picayune.</i> 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. $1.00 +net.</p> + +<p>THE MIDDLE WALL</p> + +<p><i>The Albany Times-Union</i> says of this story of the South African diamond +mines and adventures in London, on the sea and in America: "As a story +teller Mr. Marshall cannot be improved upon, and whether one is looking +for humor, philosophy, pathos, wit, excitement, adventure or love, he +will find what he seeks, a-plenty, in this capital tale." 12mo, cloth. +Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>BOOKS NOVELIZED FROM GREAT PLAYS</i></p> + +<p>THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE</p> + +<p>From the successful play of EDGAR JAMES. Embodying a wonderful message +to both husbands and wives, it tells how a determined man, of dominating +personality and iron will, leaves a faithful wife for another woman. +12mo, cloth. Illustrated from scenes in the play. Net $1.25.</p> + +<p>THE WRITING ON THE WALL</p> + +<p><i>The Rocky Mountain News:</i> "This novelization of OLGA NETHERSOLE'S play +tells of Trinity Church and its tenements. It is a powerful, vital +novel." 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> + +<p>THE OLD FLUTE PLAYER</p> + +<p>Based on CHARLES T. DAZEY'S play, this story won the friendship of the +country very quickly. <i>The Albany Times-Union:</i> "Charming enough to +become a classic." 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> + +<p>THE FAMILY</p> + +<p>Of this book (founded on the play by ROBERT HOBART DAVIS), <i>The Portland +(Oregon) Journal</i> said: "Nothing more powerful has recently been put +between the covers of a book." 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> + +<p>THE SPENDTHRIFT</p> + +<p><i>The Logansport (Ind.) Journal:</i> "A tense story, founded on PORTER +EMERSON BROWNE'S play, is full of tremendous situations, and preaches a +great sermon." 12mo, cloth bound, with six illustrations from scenes in +the play. 50 cents.</p> + +<p>IN OLD KENTUCKY</p> + +<p>Based upon CHARLES T. DAZEY'S well-known play, which has been listened +to with thrilling interest by over seven million people. "A new and +powerful novel, fascinating in its rapid action. Its touching story is +told more elaborately and even more absorbingly than it was upon the +stage."—<i>Nashville American.</i> 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> + +<hr class='adbreak' /> + +<h3><a name="By_ARTHUR_HORNBLOW" id="By_ARTHUR_HORNBLOW"></a>By ARTHUR HORNBLOW</h3> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The Talker</b></td><td align='right'>Just Issued</td></tr></table> + +<p>An impeachment of the attitude of many women with regard to the +sacredness of the marriage tie—From the play of +MARION FAIRFAX.</p> + +<p>A poignantly affecting story, deeply arresting in its significance.</p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>Kindling</b></td><td align='right'>4th Large Edition</td></tr></table> + +<p>A story of mother-love in the tenements—From the Play of +CHARLES KENYON.</p> + +<p>"A dramatic and interesting story from the powerful and unusual +play."—<i>Buffalo Express.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>Bought and Paid For</b></td><td align='right'>5th Large Edition</td></tr></table> + +<p>A tremendous arraignment of the mercenary marriage—From the play of +GEORGE BROADHURST.</p> + +<p>"The story is intensely human in its serious side and delightfully +amusing in its lighter +phases."—<i>Boston Globe.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The Gamblers</b></td><td align='right'>85th Thousand</td></tr></table> + +<p>A dramatic story of American life, from the wonderful play of Charles +Klein.</p> + +<p>"A powerful indictment of the methods of modern +finance."—<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The Easiest Way</b></td><td align='right'>6th Large Edition</td></tr></table> + +<p>A vivid story of metropolitan life from Eugene Walter's thrilling play.</p> + +<p>"The easiest way is in reality the hardest way."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>John Marsh's Millions</b></td><td align='right'>6th Large Edition,</td></tr></table> + +<p>The struggle of a young girl, heiress to millions.</p> + +<p>"Has many thrilling dramatic situations."—<i>St. Louis Post-Dispatch.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The Third Degree</b></td><td align='right'>70th Thousand</td></tr></table> + +<p>A brilliant novelization of Charles Klein's great play.</p> + +<p>"A strongly-painted picture of certain conditions in the administration +of law and justice."—<i>Philadelphia Record.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>By Right of Conquest</b></td><td align='right'>100th Thousand</td></tr></table> + +<p>A thrilling story of shipwreck upon a deserted island.</p> + +<p>"A sensational situation handled with delicacy and rigor."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The End of the Game</b></td><td align='right'>75th Thousand</td></tr></table> + +<p>A love story dealing with the perils of great wealth.</p> + +<p>"A thoroughly wholesome book, with action in the drama and real human interest."—<i>Literary +Digest.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The Profligate</b></td><td align='right'>60th Thousand</td></tr></table> + +<p>A thrilling story of love, mystery and adventure.</p> + +<p>"The moral tone of the story is excellent."—<i>Baltimore Sun.</i></p> + +<table summary='' width='100%'><tr><td align='left'><b>The Lion and the Mouse</b></td><td align='right'>200th Thousand</td></tr></table> + +<p>A brilliant novelization of Charles Klein's wonderful play.</p> + +<p>"As fascinating as Mr. Klein's play."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Pirate of Panama, by William MacLeod Raine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIRATE OF PANAMA *** + +***** This file should be named 22752-h.htm or 22752-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/5/22752/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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