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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6014-0.txt b/6014-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5731e1d --- /dev/null +++ b/6014-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11661 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of West Wind Drift, by George Barr McCutcheon + +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: West Wind Drift + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6014] +Posting Date: March 26, 2009 +Last Updated: March 12, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEST WIND DRIFT *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + + + + + + + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +By George Barr McCutcheon + + + +On a bright, still morning in October, the Doraine sailed from a South +American port and turned her glistening nose to the northeast. All told, +there were some seven hundred and fifty souls on board; and there +were stores that filled her holds from end to end,--grain, foodstuffs, +metals, chemicals, rubber and certain sinister things of war. Her +passenger list contained the names of men who had achieved distinction +in world affairs,--in finance, in business, in diplomacy, in war, +besides that less subtle pursuit, adventure: men from both hemispheres, +from all continents. It was a cosmopolitan company that sailed out to +sea that placid day, bound for a port six thousand miles away. + +Her departure, heavy-laden, from this South American port was properly +recorded in the then secret annals of a great nation; the world at +large, however, was none the wiser. For those were the days when sly +undersea monsters of German descent were prowling about the oceans, +taking toll of humanity and breeding the curse that was to abide with +their progenitors forever. + +Down through the estuary and into the spreading bay slid the big +steamer; abreast the curving coast-line she drove her way for leagues +and leagues, and then swept boldly into the vast Atlantic desert. + +Four hundred years ago and more, Amerigo Vespucci had sailed this +unknown southern sea in his doughty caravel; he had wallowed and rocked +for months over a course that the Doraine was asked to cover in the wink +of an eye by comparison. Up from the south he had come in an age when +the seas he sailed were no less strange than the land he touched from +time to time; the blue waste of sky and sea as boundless then as now; +the west wind drift as sure and unfailing; the waves as savage or +as mild; the star by which he laid his course as far away and +immutable,--but he came in 1501 and his ship was alone in the trackless +ocean. + +The mighty Doraine was not alone; she sailed a sea whose every foot was +charted, whose every depth was sounded. She sailed in an age of Titans, +while the caravel was a frolicksome pygmy, dancing to the music of a +thousand winds, buffeted today, becalmed tomorrow, but always a snail on +the face of the waters. Four hundred years ago Vespucci and his men were +lost in the wilderness of waves. Out of touch with the world were they +for months,--aye, even years,--and no man knew whither they sailed nor +whence they came, for those were the days when the seven seas kept their +secrets better than they keep them now. + +Into the path traversed by the lowly caravel steamed the towering +Doraine, pointing her gleaming nose to the north and east. + +She was never seen again. + +Out from the lairs of the great American navy sped the swiftest +hounds of the ocean. They swept the face of the waters with a thousand +sleepless eyes; they called with the strange, mysterious voice that +carries a thousand miles; they raked the sea as with a fine-tooth comb; +they searched the coast of a continent; they penetrated its rivers, +circled its islands, scanned its rocks and reefs,--and asked a single +question that had but one reply from every ship that sailed the southern +sea. + +For months ships of all nations searched for the missing steamer. Not so +much as the smallest piece of wreckage rewarded the ceaseless quest. The +great vessel, with all its precious cargo, had slipped into its niche +among the profoundest mysteries of the sea. Came the day, therefore, +when the Secretary of the Navy wrote down against her name the ugly +sentence: “Lost with all on board.” + +Maritime courts issued their decrees; legatees parcelled estates, great +and small; insurance companies paid in hard cash for the lives that +were lost, and went blandly about their business; more than one widow +reconsidered her thoughts of self-denial; and ships again sailed the +course of Amerigo Vespucci without a thought of the Doraine. + +For months the newspapers in many lands speculated on the fate of the +missing liner. That a great ship could disappear from the face of the +waters in these supreme days of navigation without leaving so much as +a trace behind was inconceivable. At first there were tales of the +dastardly U-boats; then came the sinister reports of treachery on board +resulting in the ship being taken over by German plotters, with the +prediction that she would emerge from oblivion as a well-armed “raider” + cruising in the North Atlantic; then the generally accepted theory that +she had been swiftly, suddenly rent asunder by a mighty explosion in +her hold. All opinions, all theories, all conjectures, however, revolved +about a single fear;--that she was the victim of a German plot. But +in the course of events there came a day when the German Navy, ever +boastful of its ignoble deeds, issued the positive and no doubt sincere +declaration that it had no record of the sinking of the Doraine. The +fate of the ship was as much of a mystery to the German admiralty as it +was to the rest of the puzzled world. + +And so it was that the Doraine, laden with nearly a thousand souls, +sailed out into the broad Atlantic and was never heard from again. + + + + + +BOOK ONE. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The Captain of the liner was an old man. He had sailed the seas for +two-score years, at least half of them as master. At the outbreak of the +Great War he was given command of the Doraine, relieving a younger man +for more drastic duty in the North Sea. He was an Englishman, and his +name, Weatherby Trigger, may be quite readily located on the list of +retired naval officers in the British Admiralty offices if one cares to +go to the trouble to look it up. + +After two years the Doraine, with certain other vessels involved in a +well-known and somewhat thoroughly debated transaction, became to all +intents and purposes the property of the United States of America; she +flew the American flag, carried an American guncrew and American papers, +and, with some difficulty, an English master. The Captain was making his +last voyage as master of the ship. An American captain was to succeed +him as soon as the Doraine reached its destination in the United States. +Captain Trigger, a little past seventy, had sailed for nearly two +years under the American flag at a time when all Englishmen were looking +askance at it and wondering if it was ever to take its proper place +among the righteous banners of the world. It had taken its place among +them, and the “old man” was happy. + +His crew of one hundred and fifty was what might be aptly described as +international. The few Englishmen he had on board were noticeably +unfit for active duty in the war zone. There was a small contingent of +Americans, a great many Portuguese, some Spaniards, Norwegians, and a +more or less polyglot remainder without national classification. + +His First Officer was a Scotch-American, the Second an Irish-American, +the Chief Engineer a plain unhyphenated American from Baltimore, +Maryland. The purser, Mr. Codge, was still an Englishman, although he +had lived in the United States since he was two years old,--a matter of +forty-seven years and three months, if we are to believe Mr. Codge, +who seemed rather proud of the fact that his father had neglected to +forswear allegiance to Queen Victoria, leaving it to his son to follow +his example in the case of King Edward the Seventh and of King George +the Fifth. + +There were eighty-one first-cabin passengers, one hundred and nineteen +in the second cabin,--for the two had not been consolidated on the +Doraine as was the case with the harried trans-Atlantic liners,--and +approximately three hundred and fifty in the steerage. The first +and second cabin lists represented many races, South Americans +predominating. + +The great republics in the lower half of the hemisphere were cut +off almost entirely from the Old World so far as general travel was +concerned. The people of Argentine, Brazil and Chili turned their eyes +from the east and looked to the north, where lay the hitherto ignored +and sometime hated continent whose middle usurped the word American. A +sea voyage in these parlous days meant but one thing to the people of +South America: a visit to an unsentimental land whose traditions, if any +were cherished at all, went back no farther than yesterday and were to +be succeeded by fresh ones tomorrow. At least, such was the belief of +the Latin who still dozed superciliously in the glory of his long-dead +ancestors. Not having Paris, or London, or Madrid, or Rome as the Mecca +of his dreams, his pilgrimage now carried him to the infidel realities +of the North,--to Washington, New York, New Orleans, Newport and +Atlantic City! He had the money for travel, so why stay at home? He had +the money to waste, so why not dissipate? He had the thirst for sin, so +why famish? + +There were lovely women on board, and children with and without the +golden spoon; there were men whose names were known on both sides of +the Atlantic and whose reputations for integrity, sagacity, intellect, +and,--it must be confessed,--corruptness, (with the author's apology for +the inclusion); doughty but dogmatic university men who had penetrated +the wildernesses as naturalists, entomologists, mineralogists, +archaeologists, explorers; sportsmen who had forsaken the lion, +rhinoceros, hartebeest and elephant of Africa for the jaguar, cougar, +armadillo and anteater of South America; soldiers of fortune whose +gods had lured them into the comparative safety of South American +revolutions; miners, stock buyers and raisers, profiteersmen, diplomats, +priests, preachers, gamblers, smugglers and thieves; others who had +gone out for the Allies to buy horses, beeves, grain, metal, chemicals, +manganese and men; financiers, merchants, lawyers, writers, musicians, +doctors, dentists, architects; gentiles and Jews, Protestants and +Catholics, skeptics and infidels,--in short, good men, bad men, beggar +men, thieves. + +The world will readily recall such names and personalities as these: +Abel T. Landover, the great New York banker; Peter Snipe, the novelist; +Solomon Nicklestick, the junior member in the firm of Winkelwein & +Nicklestick, importers of hides, etc., Ninth Avenue, New York; Moses +Block, importer of rubber; James January Jones, of San Francisco, +promoter and financier; Randolph Fitts, of Boston, the well-known +architect; Percy Knapendyke, the celebrated naturalist; Michael +O'Malley Malone, of the law firm of Eads, Blixton, Solomon, Carlson, +Vecchiavalli, Revitsky, Perkins & Malone, New York; William Spinney, +of the Chicago Police force, (and his prisoner, “Soapy” Shay, diamond +thief); Denby Flattner, the taxidermist; Morris Shine, the motion +picture magnate; Madame Careni-Amori, soprano from the Royal Opera, +Rome; Signer Joseppi, the new tenor, described as the logical successor +to the great Caruso; Madame Obosky and three lesser figures in +the Russian Ballet, who were coming to the United States to head +a long-heralded tour, “by special arrangement with the Czar”; Buck +Chizler, the famous jockey,--and so on. + +These were the names most conspicuously displayed by the newspapers +during the anxious, watchful days and weeks that succeeded the sailing +of the Doraine from the port in the Tropic of Capricorn. + +Dozens of cities in the United States were represented by one or more +persons on board the Doraine, travellers of both sexes who, being denied +the privilege of a customary dash to Europe for the annual holiday, +resolved not to be deprived of their right to wander, nor the right +to return when they felt inclined. Whilom, defiant rovers in search of +change, they scoffed at conditions and went their way regardless of +the peril that stalked the seas. In the main they were money-spending, +time-dragging charges against the resources of a harassed, bewildered +government, claiming protection in return for arrogance. + +Far to the south, off the Falkland Islands, at the bottom of the sea, +lay the battered hulls of what ware supposed to be the last of the +German fighting-ships in South Atlantic waters. Report had it, however, +that several well-armed cruisers had either escaped the hurricane of +shells from the British warships, or had been detached from the squadron +before the encounter took place. In any event, no vessel left a South +American port without maintaining a sharp lookout for prowling survivors +of the vanquished fleet, and no passenger went aboard who did not +experience the thrill of a hazardous undertaking. The ever-present and +ever-ready individual with official information from sources that could +not be questioned, travelled with remarkable regularity on each and +every craft that ventured out upon the Hun-infested waters. In the +smoke-room the invariable word went round that raiders were sinking +everything in sight. Every ship that sailed had on board at least one +individual who claimed to have been chased on a former voyage by a +blockade-breaker,--(according to the most reliable reports, the Germans +were slipping warships through the vaunted British net with the most +astounding ease and frequency,)--and there was no one with the hardihood +or desire to question his veracity; indeed, it was something of a joy +to believe him, for was he not a living and potential document to prove +that the merchant marine could outwit, outrace and outshoot the German +pirates? + +The Doraine was barely twenty-four hours out from port and ploughing +along steadily through a choppy sea when Mr. Mott, the First Officer, +reported to Captain Trigger that a stowaway had been found on board. + +“German?” inquired Captain Trigger tersely. + +“No, sir. At least, he doesn't look it and, what's more, he doesn't act +it. Claims to be American born and bred.” + +“That's what a great many Germans are claiming these days, Mr. Mott. We +can't take any chances, you know. Where was he found?” + +Mr. Mott cleared his throat. “Ahem! He wasn't what you might call found, +sir. As a matter of fact, he applied in person to the Chief Engineer +about half an hour ago and asked for a job. He said he was perfectly +willing to work out his passage home. Mr. Gray had him conducted to me, +sir,--rather sharply guarded, of course,--and he--” + +“Fetch him here at once, Mr. Mott,” commanded Captain Trigger. “I'll +hear what he has to say first hand.” + +“Very well, sir.” Mr. Mott started away, hesitated, rubbed his chin +dubiously, and then came back. “He's having a bit of breakfast, sir, and +has asked for the loan of Mr. Codge's razors--” + +“What?” roared the captain. + +“I informed him he would have to appear before you at once, sir, and he +said he was quite willing to do so, but would it be possible for him +to tidy up a bit beforehand. I am obliged to confess, sir, that I have +never encountered a more interesting stowaway in all my career, which +leads me to confess still further that I gave orders to feed him,--he +hasn't had a mouthful to eat since we left port, owing to the fact, he +says, that his luggage shifted the first day out and try as he would +he couldn't locate it without a match, or something to that effect,--he +rather stumped me, sir, with the graceful way he lies,--and then Mr. +Codge agreed to let him take one of his razors, and when I left him +below, sir, it seemed quite certain that Mr. Gray was on the point of +lending him a shirt and a change of underwear. I--” + +“Good God, sir!” gasped Captain Trigger, with something more than +emotion in his voice. “What is this you are telling me?” + +“He seems a most likeable chap,” explained Mr. Mott lamely. “Quite +a courteous fellow, too, sir. I forgot to mention that he sent his +compliments to you and asks for an interview at your earliest conven--” + +“Asked for an interview? Drag him here at once--by the heels, if +necessary. Tell him I shan't keep him waiting an instant,” said the +captain ironically. + +Mr. Mott still hesitated. “In the event, sir, that he is in the midst of +shaving--” + +“I don't care a hang what he's in the midst of,” exclaimed Captain +Trigger. “Even in the midst of changing shirts. Present my compliments +to him, Mr. Mott, and say that he needn't dress up on my account. I +am an old-fashioned sailor-man. It is nothing new to me to see men who +haven't shaved in a fortnight, and others who never change shirts.” + +“Very well, sir,” said Mr. Mott, and departed. + +Presently he reappeared with the stowaway in charge. + +Captain Trigger beheld a well set-up young man of medium height, with +freshly shaven chin and jaws, carefully brushed hair, spotless white +shirt and collar, and,--revealed in a quick glance,--recently scrubbed +hands. His brown Norfolk jacket was open, and he carried a brand new, +though somewhat shapeless pan-ama hat in his hand. Evidently he had +ceased fanning himself with it at the moment of entering the captain's +presence. The keen, good-looking face was warm and moist as the result +of a most violent soaping. He wore corduroy riding-breeches, cavalry +boots that betrayed their age in spite of a late polishing at the hands +of an energetic and carefully directed bootblack, and a broad leather +belt from which only half an eye was required to see that a holster had +been detached with a becoming regard for neatness. His hair was thick +and sun-bleached; his eyes, dark and unafraid, met the stern gaze of +the captain with directness and respect; his lips and chin were firm in +repose, but they might easily be the opposite if relaxed; his skin was +so tanned and wind-bitten that the whites of his eyes were startlingly +defined and vivid. He was not a tall man,--indeed, one would have been +justified in suspecting him of being taller than he really was because +of the more or less deceiving erectness with which he carried himself. +As a matter of fact, he was not more than five feet ten or ten and a +half. + +Captain Trigger eyed him narrowly for a moment. + +“What is your name?” + +“A. A. Percival, sir.” + +“Your full name, young man. No initials.” + +The stowaway seemed to add an inch to his height before replying. + +“Algernon Adonis Percival, sir,” he said, a very clear note of defiance +in his voice. + +The Captain looked at the First Officer, and the First Officer, after a +brief stare at the speaker, looked at the Captain. + +“It's his right name, you can bet, sir,” said Mr. Mott, with conviction. +“Nobody would voluntarily give himself a name like that.” + +“You never can tell about these Americans, Mr. Mott,” said the Captain +warily. “They've got what they call a keen sense of humour, you know.” + +Mr. Percival smiled. His teeth were very white and even. + +“I am a first and only child,” he explained. “That ought to account for +it, sir,” he went on, a trifle defensively. + +Captain Trigger did not smile. Mr. Mott, however, looked distinctly +sympathetic. + +“You say you are an American,--a citizen of the United States?” demanded +the former. + +“Yes, sir. My home is in Baltimore.” + +“Baltimore?” repeated Mr. Mott quickly. “That's where Mr. Gray hails +from, sir,” he added, as a sort of apology to the Captain for the +exclamation. + +The Captain's gaze settled on the stowaway's spotless white shirt and +collar. Then he nodded his head slowly. + +“Mr. Gray is the Chief Engineer,” he explained, with mock courtesy. + +“Yes, sir,--I know,” responded Percival. “He comes of one of the oldest +and most highly connected families in Baltimore. He informs me that his +father--” + +“Never mind!” snapped the Captain. “We need not discuss Mr. Gray's +antecedents. How old are you?” + +“Thirty last Friday, sir.” + +“Married?” + +“No, sir.” + +“Parents living?” + +“No, sir.” + +“And now, what the devil do you mean by sneaking aboard this ship and +hiding yourself in the--by the way, Mr. Mott, where was he hiding?” + +Mr. Mott: “It doesn't seem to be quite clear as yet, sir.” + +Captain Trigger: “What's that?” + +Mr. Mott: “I say, it isn't quite clear. We have only his word for it. +You see, he wasn't discovered until he accosted Mr. Shannon on the +bridge and asked--” + +Captain Trigger: “On the bridge, Mr. Mott?” + +Mr. Mott: “That is to say, sir, Mr. Shannon was on the bridge and he was +below on the promenade deck. He asked Mr. Shannon if he was the Captain +of the boat.” + +Captain Trigger: “He did, eh? Well?” + +Mr. Mott: “He was informed that you were at breakfast, sir,--no one +suspecting him of being a stowaway, of course,--and then, it appears, +he started out to look for you. That's how he fell in with the Chief +Engineer. Mr. Gray informs me that he applied for work, admitting that +he was aboard without leave, or passage, or funds, or anything else, +it would seem. But, as for where he lay in hiding, there hasn't been +anything definite arrived at as yet, sir. He seems to have been hiding +in a rather wide-spread sort of way.” + +Mr. Percival, amiably: “Permit me to explain, Captain Trigger. You see, +I have been obliged to change staterooms three times. Naturally, that +might be expected to create some little confusion in my mind. I began +in the second cabin. Much to my surprise and chagrin I found, too late, +that the stateroom I had chosen,--at random, I may say,--was merely in +the state of being prepared for a lady and gentleman who had asked to be +transferred from a less desirable one. I had some difficulty in getting +out of it without attracting attention. I don't know what I should have +done if the steward hadn't informed them that he could not move their +steamer-trunk until morning. There wouldn't have been room for both of +us under the berth, sir. If the gentleman had been alone I shouldn't +have minded in the least remaining, under his berth, but he--” + +Captain Trigger: “How did you happen to get into that room, young man? +The doors are never unlocked when the rooms are unoccupied.” + +Mr. Percival: “You are mistaken, sir. I found at least three stateroom +doors unlocked that night, and my search was by no means extensive.” + +Captain Trigger: “This is most extraordinary, Mr. Mott,--if true.” + +Mr. Mott: “It shall be looked into, sir.” + +Captain Trigger: “Go on, young man.” + +Mr. Percival: “I tried another room in the second cabin, but had +to abandon it also. It had no regular occupant,--it was Number 221 +remember,--but along about midnight two men opened the door with a key +and came in. They were stewards. I gathered that they were getting +the room ready for someone else, so when they departed,--very quietly, +sir,--I sneaked out and decided to try for accommodations in the first +cabin. I--” + +Mr. Mott: “Did you say stewards?” + +Mr. Percival: “That's what I took them to be.” + +Captain Trigger: “You are either lying, young man, or plumb crazy.” + +Mr. Percival, with dignity: “The latter is quite possible, Captain,--but +not the former. I managed quite easily to get from the second cabin to +the first. You'd be surprised to know how simple it was. Running without +lights as you do, sir, simplified things tremendously. I found a very +sick and dejected Jewish gentleman trying to die in the least exposed +corner of the promenade deck. At least, he said he didn't want to live. +I offered to put him to bed and to sit up with him all night if it would +make him feel a little less like passing away. He lurched at the chance. +I accompanied him to his stateroom, and so got a few much-needed +hours of repose, despite his groans. I also ate his breakfast for him. +Skirmishing around this morning, I found there were no unoccupied rooms +in the first cabin, so I decided that we were far enough from land for +me to reveal myself to the officer of the day,--if that's what you call +'em on board ship,--with a very honest and laudable desire to work my +passage home. I can only add, Captain, that I am ready and willing to do +anything from swabbing floors on the upper deck to passing coal at the +bottom of the ship.” + +Captain Trigger stared hard at the young man, a puzzled expression in +his eyes. + +“You appear to be a gentleman,” he said at last. “Why are you on board +this ship as a stowaway? Don't you know that I can put you in irons, +confine you to the brig, and put you ashore at the first port of call?” + +“Certainly, sir. That's just what I am trying to avoid. As a gentleman, +I am prepared to do everything in my power to relieve you of what must +seem a most painful official duty.” + +Mr. Mott smiled. The Captain stiffened perceptibly. + +“How did you come aboard this ship?” he demanded. + +“As a coal passer, sir. Day before yesterday, when you were getting +in the last lot of coal. I had a single five dollar gold piece in my +pocket. It did the trick. With that seemingly insignificant remnant of +a comfortable little fortune, I induced one of the native coal +carriers,--a Portuguese nobleman, I shall always call him,--to part +with his trousers, shirt and hat. I slipped 'em on over my own clothes, +stuffed my boots and socks inside my shirt, picked up his basket of +coal, and walked aboard. It isn't necessary, I suppose, to state that my +career as a dock-hand ceased with that solitary basket of coal, or that +having once put foot aboard the Doraine, I was in a position to book +myself as a passenger.” + +“Well, I'm damned!” said Captain Trigger. “Some one shall pay for this +carelessness, Mr. Mott. I've never heard of anything so cool. What did +you say your name is, young man?” + +“A. A. Percival, sir.” + +“Ah--ahem! I see. Will it offend you, A. A., if I make so bold as to +inquire why the devil you neglected to book your passage in the regular +way, as any gentleman from Baltimore might have been expected to do, and +where is your passport, your certificate of health, your purse and your +discharge from prison?” + +Mr. Percival spread out his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + +“Would you be interested in my story, Captain Trigger? It is brief, but +edifying. When I arrived in town, the evening before you were to sail, +I had a wallet well-filled with gold, currency, and so forth. I had +travelled nearly two thousand miles,--from the foothills of the Andes, +to be more definite,--and I had my papers, my cancelled contract, and a +clear right-of-way, so to speak. My personal belongings were supposed to +have arrived in town on the train with me. A couple of cow-hide trunks, +in fact. Well, they didn't arrive. I don't know what became of them. I +had no time to investigate. This was the last boat I could get for +two or three weeks that would land me in the U. S. A. I put up at the +Alcazar Grand for the night. It was then too late to secure passage, but +I fully intended to do so the first thing in the morning. There was a +concert and dance at the hotel that night, and I went in to look on for +awhile. I ran across a friend, an engineer who was on the job with me +up in the hills a few months ago. He is also an American, a chap from +Providence, Rhode Island. Connected with the consular service now. He +was with a small party of Americans,--am I boring you?” + +“No, no,--get on with it,” urged Captain Trigger. + +“Several of them were sailing on this ship, and they were having a +little farewell party. That, however, has nothing to do with the case. +I left them at midnight and went up to my room. Now comes the part you +will not believe. During the night,--I sleep very soundly,--some one +entered my room, rifled my pockets, and got away with everything I +possessed, except my clothes and the five-dollar gold piece I have +carried ever since I left home,--as a lucky coin, you know. He--” + +“How did he happen to overlook your lucky coin?” inquired the Captain +sarcastically. + +“Because it couldn't be a lucky coin if I carried it in my purse. No +coin is ever lucky that gets into my purse, Captain. I always kept it +tightly sewed up in the band of my trousers, safe from the influence of +evil companions. I did not discover the loss until morning. It was then +too late to do anything, as you were sailing at eight. My Providence +friend was not available. I knew no one else. But I was determined to +sail on the Doraine. That's the story, sir, in brief. I leave it to +you if I wasn't justified in doing the best I could under the +circumstances.” + +Captain Trigger was not as fierce as he looked. He could not keep the +twinkle out of his eye. + +“We will see about that,” he managed to say with commendable gruffness. +“Assuming that your story is true, why are you in such a tremendous +hurry to reach the United States? Skipping out for some reason, eh?” + +“Well,” said the young man slowly, “you see, news is a long time getting +out into the wilderness where I've been located for a couple of years. +We knew, of course, that there was a war on, but we didn't know how it +was progressing. Down here in this part of the world we have a war every +two or three months, and we've got so used to having 'em over within a +week or two that we just naturally don't pay much attention to them. +We don't even care who wins. But a couple of months ago we got word +up there that the United States had finally got into it with everybody +under the sun, and that the Germans were bound to win if we didn't get +a couple of million men across in pretty short order. I am thirty years +old, Captain, strong and healthy, and I'm a good American. That's why +I want to get home. I've told you the truth about being robbed. I don't +mind losing the money,--only a couple of thousand pesos, you know,--but +if you chuck me off at the next port of call, Captain Trigger, I'll +curse you to my dying day. I'm willing to work, I'm willing to be put in +irons, I'm willing to get along on bread and water, but you've just got +to land me in the United States. You are an Englishman. I suppose you've +got relatives over in France fighting the Germans. Maybe you've had some +one killed who is dear to you.” + +“My youngest son was killed in Flanders,” said the Captain simply. + +“I am sorry, sir. Well, for every Englishman and every Frenchman who has +died over there, my country ought to supply some one to take his place. +I expect to be one of those men, Captain. I have no other excuse for +coming aboard your ship as a stowaway.” + +The Captain still eyed him narrowly. + +“I believe you are honest, young man. If I am deceived in you I shall +never trust the eyes of another man as long as I live. Sit down, Mr. +Percival. I shall put you to work, never fear, but in the meantime I am +very much interested in what you were doing up in the hills. You will +oblige me by going as fully as possible into all the details. I shall +not pass judgment on you until I've heard all of your story.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Algernon Adonis Percival, civil and mining engineer, Cornell, had gone +through certain rather harsh stages of development in the mines of +Montana and later in the perilous districts of Northern Mexico. A year +or two prior to the breaking out of the great World War, he was sent +to South America to replace the general superintendent of a new +copper-mining enterprise in a remote section of the Andes, on +the Bolivian side of the mountains. Here he was in charge of the +heterogeneous horde of miners, labourers, structural workers and +assayists who were engaged in the development and extension of the vast +concession controlled by his company. + +His description of the camp or town in which this motley assemblage +dwelt from one year's end to the other, far from civilization, was +illuminating to the two sea-faring men. It must be confessed, however, +that a sound reluctance to swallow the tale without the proverbial grain +of salt caused them to watch closely for the slightest sign that might +reveal to them the always-to-be expected and seldom successful +duplicity so common in those harrowing days when all men were objects of +suspicion. From time to time they glanced inquiringly at each other, +but the stranger's story was so straightforward, so lacking in personal +exploitation, so free from unnecessary detail, that they were finally +convinced that he was all that he represented himself to be and that +they had nothing to fear from him. + +His long, hazardous journey by horse through the passes down into the +forests and jungles, out upon the endless, sparsely settled pampas, +and eventually into the remote village that witnessed the passing every +second day of a primitive and far from dependable railway train, was +presented with agreeable simplicity and conciseness. He passed briefly +over what might have been expanded into grave experiences, and at last +came, so to speak, to the gates of the city, unharmed, resolute and full +of the fire that knows no quenching. + +“By the way,” observed the Captain, still wary, “has it occurred to you +we may be justified in suspecting that you deserted your post up +there in the hills, and that you have betrayed the confidence of your +employers?” Percival had completed what he evidently believed to be a +full and satisfactory account of himself. + +“I was in full charge up there, Captain Trigger. My contract had but a +month more to run. I appointed my own successor, and the company will +not be any the worse off for the change. My letter to headquarters, +announcing my decision not to renew the contract, went forward two weeks +before I left the camp. I merely anticipated the actual termination of +my contract by a month or so, and as I handed my resignation at once to +my own newly appointed superintendent, I submit that I acted in absolute +good faith. I may say that he accepted it without a word of protest, +sir. As a matter of fact, I told him in advance that I wouldn't appoint +him unless he agreed to accept my resignation.” + +The Captain smiled at this ingenuous explanation. + +“I daresay I ought to put you under guard, Mr. Percival,” he said. “My +duty is very plain. A stowaway is a stowaway, no matter how you look +at him. The regulations do not leave me any choice. Maritime justice +is rarely tempered by mercy. However, under the circumstances, I am +inclined to accept your word of honour that you will not violate your +parole if I refrain from putting you in irons. Have I your word of +honour that you will not leave this ship until I hand you over to the +proper authorities in the United States?” + +“You have, sir.” + +“You are a very head-strong, ambitious young man. You will not jump +overboard and try to beat us into port under your own steam?” + +“You may trust me, sir, never to give up the ship.” + +“And you will kill as many Germans as possible?” + +“Yes, sir,” said A. A. Percival submissively. + +Captain Trigger arose and extended his hand. + +“I've never done anything like this before in all my years as ship's +master. You ought to be flogged and stowed away in the brig until you +show a properly subdued spirit, young man. I suppose you've heard of the +cat-o'-nine-tails?” + +“My reading up to the age of fifteen was confined almost exclusively to +the genteel histories of pirates, buccaneers and privateersmen, Captain +Trigger,” announced A. A. Percival, taking the master's hand in a +firm grip. “I wonder if you know what a black-snake whip is, or a +cattle-adder? Well, they're both painful and convincing. As director of +morals in the camp I have just left behind me, it was my official duty +on frequent occasions to see to it that current offenders had from +fifteen to fifty applications of the black-snake in a public sort of +way. The black-snake, I may explain, could be wielded by a strong but +unskilled arm. It was different, however, with the cattle-adder. That +had to be handled by an expert, one who could stand off twenty paces, +more or less, and crack the long lash with such astonishing precision +that the tip end of it barely touched the back of the culprit, the +result being a nobby assortment of splotches that looked for all the +world like hives after the blood got back into them again. You see, +I was chief magistrate, executioner ex-officio, chief of police, jury +commissioner--in fact, an all-around potentate. Sort of Pooh-bah, you +know. For serious offences, such as wife beating, wife stealing, +or having more than one wife at a time, we were not so lenient. The +offender, on conviction, was strung up by the thumbs and used as a +target by amateurs who desired to become proficient in the use of the +cattle-adder. Murderers were attended to a trifle more expeditiously. +They were strung up by the neck.” + +“Good God, man,--do you mean to say you hung men in that off-hand +fashion?” cried Captain Trigger, aghast. + +“Not without a fair trial, sir. No innocent man was ever hung. There was +no such thing as circumstantial evidence in that camp. The guilty man +was always taken red-handed. We had good laws and they were rigidly +enforced. There was no other way, sir. Short, sharp and decisive. It's +the best way. Men understand that sort of thing and honest men approve +of the method. You see, gentlemen, we had a hard lot of characters to +deal with. I wish to add, however, that before I had been up there six +months we had a singularly law-abiding and self-respecting camp. Crime +was not tolerated, not even by the men who had once been criminals. +If two men quarrelled, they were allowed to fight it out fairly and +squarely in any way they could agree upon. Knives, hatchets and all +other messy weapons were barred. It was either fists, pistols or rifles +at a fairly long range, and under the strictest rules. Duels were fought +according to Hoyle, and were witnessed by practically every one in camp. +You will perceive that Copperhead Camp was no place for a coward or a +bluffer or a bully. It takes a brave man to fight a duel with a chap who +may be only half as big as he is, but who can shoot like the devil. So +you see, Captain Trigger, the cat-o'-nine-tails has no terror for me.” + +Mr. Mott regarded the young man with wide-open, somewhat incredulous +eyes. + +“You don't look like a fire-eating, swashbuckling party to me,” he said. + +“I am the most peaceable chap you've ever seen, Mr. Mott. You needn't +be alarmed. I'm not going to bite a hole in the ship and scuttle her. +Moreover, I am a very meek and lowly individual on board this ship. +There's a lot of difference between being in supreme command with all +kinds of authority to bolster you up and being a rat in a trap as I am +now. Up in Copperhead Camp I was a nabob, here I'm a nobody. Up there I +was the absolute boss of five or six hundred men,--I won't say I could +boss the women,--and I made 'em all walk chalk without once losing +step. There were murderers and crooks, blacklegs and gunmen in my genial +aggregation, men whose true names we never knew, men who were wanted in +every part of the civilized world. The only place on earth, I suppose, +where they could feel reasonably at home was in that gosh-awful nowhere +that we called Copperhead Camp. You can't handle such men with mittens. +And there were good men there as well,--good, strong, righteous men. +They were the leaven that made the whole thing palatable. Without them I +could have had no authority. But I dare say I am boring you. The present +situation is the one we're interested in, not the lordly past of your +humble and, I trust, obedient servant.” + +His smile was most engaging, but back of it the two seamen read +strength, decision, integrity. The gay, bantering, whilom attitude of +this unusual young man was not assumed. It was not a pose. He was not +a dare-devil, nor was he a care-free, unstable youth who had matured +abruptly in the exercise of power. On the contrary, he was,--and Captain +Trigger knew it,--the personification of confidence, an optimist to whom +victory and defeat are equally unavoidable and therefore to be reckoned +as one in the vast scheme of human endeavour; a fighter who merely rests +on his arms but never lays them down; a spirit that absorbs the bitters +and the sweets of life with equal relish. + +Captain Trigger was not slow in making up his mind. This clean-minded, +clean-bodied American with the confident though respectful smile, was a +chap after his own heart. + +“I hardly know what to do with you, Percival,” he said, a scowl of +genuine perplexity in his eyes. “You are not an ordinary transgressor. +You are a gentleman. You have exercised an authority perhaps somewhat +similar to my own,--possibly in some respects your position up there was +even more autocratic, if I may use the term. I am not unconscious of all +this, and yet I have no choice other than that designated by law. The +regulations are unalterable. It is a matter of morale, pure and simple. +We are compelled to treat all stowaways alike. Of course, I shall not +subject you to the ordinary--shall we say methods of--” + +“Pardon me, Captain,” broke in the young man, his smile no longer in +evidence; “I am asking no favours. I expect to be treated as an ordinary +stowaway. Set me to work at anything you like and I will make as good a +job of it as possible.” + +“I was about to suggest that you serve as a sort of assistant to Mr. +Codge, the purser. I've no doubt he could find something for you to do +and--” + +“If that is your way of punishing me, Captain Trigger, of course there +is nothing for me to do but to submit.” + +“Eh? I am sure you will not find Mr. Codge a hard taskmaster. He is +quite a good-natured man.” + +“Extremely kind and considerate,” hastily added Mr. Mott, reassuringly. + +“But I don't want to loaf my passage home,” protested Percival. “I want +to be sentenced to the hardest sort of labour, if you don't mind. I +don't want to owe this steamship company a penny when I step ashore. It +is your duty, sir, as master of this ship, to put me on the meanest job +you've got.” + +“My word!” exclaimed Captain Trigger. + +“I'm blessed!” said Mr. Mott. + +“Up where I've been running things and cock-walking like a foreman in a +shirt-waist factory, I made the rules and I enforced them. I want to say +to you that no favours were shown. If the Prince of Wales had drifted in +there, dead broke, and asked for something to eat, he would have got it, +but you bet your life he'd have had to work for it. A tramp's a tramp, +no matter how much purple he's been used to, and you can say the same +for a stowaway. What's the matter with me taking the place of one of +those deck-hands, or whatever you call 'em, you lost last night?” + +“What's that?” + +“Swabbers, maybe you call 'em. Men that mop up the decks after everybody +else has turned in.” + +“What are you talking about?” demanded the Captain, sitting up very +straight. Percival stared at him in astonishment. + +“I thought you knew about it, of course. Good Lord, sir, don't you know +that a couple of your men jumped overboard last night,--or early this +morning, rather? Just as the ship was rounding that big headland--” + +“Good God, man, are you in earnest?” cried Mr. Mott, starting toward the +door. + +“I certainly am. I took them for deserters, of course,--not suicides, +because they didn't forget to put on life preservers before they jumped. +I haven't a doubt they were picked up, so there's no use worrying. A +minute or two after they went over,--from the bottom deck or whatever +you call it,--I heard a motor boat popping away like a gatling-gun not +far,--” + +But he was alone. Captain Trigger had dashed out of the cabin in the +wake of the First Officer. + +Algernon Adonis Percival stared blankly at the open door. + +“Good Lord, why all this excitement over a couple of bums?” he said, +addressing space. “If they were working for me, I'd thank the Lord to be +rid of 'em so cheaply. They--Hello!” + +The Second Officer popped into the room. + +“Come along with me,” he snapped. “Lively, now. Just where and when did +you see a couple of men go overboard? Quietly, now. We don't want to +alarm the passengers.” + +Within five minutes after Percival's disturbing report, the officers +of the Doraine, with set faces, were employed in a swift but silent +investigation. Before many more minutes had passed, at least a portion +of the stowaway's story had been verified. Two men were found to be +missing, although, strange to say, they had not been missed up to the +time that noses were counted. They were down on the ship's roster as +Norwegians, New York registry, and had come down with the Doraine on her +trip from the north. + +Percival repeated his story, but had little to add in the way of detail. +He had stolen on deck some time after midnight for a breath of air, +risking detection, and from the shelter of a secluded corner well aft +had heard the two men swabbing the deck below. Suddenly they ceased +work, and he prepared to creep back to a place of safety, concluding +that they were on their way to the upper deck. + +He went to the rail to listen. The two men were almost directly below +him, and he could see the upper portions of their figures as they leaned +far out over the rail, apparently looking into the swirling waters +below. Quite distinctly he heard one of them say, in English: “We got +to do it now or never.” The other mumbled something he could not +distinguish. He was only mildly interested, not anticipating what was to +follow. For a few seconds he heard them scrambling and puffing and then +he saw them quite plainly on the rail, their figures bulky with what he +identified as life buoys, a faint light from somewhere falling directly +upon the grayish-white objects in which they were swathed. + +One of them uttered the word “Now!” and to his amazement they shot out, +as one man, into the black-ness below. There was a single splash. For a +moment or two he stood spell-bound. Then he heard some one running +along the deck below. Convinced that the incident had been witnessed by +others, he darted into the companion-way and made his way back to the +stateroom of the sick passenger. Through the lightless porthole he +listened for the terrifying shout, “Man overboard!” It did not come, +but his ear caught the staccato beat of a motor near by, striking +up abruptly out of the swish of rushing waters. In his ignorance, he +decided that it was a boat from the ship going to the rescue of the +daring deserters, and calmly waited for the engines of the mighty +Doraine to cease their rhythmic pulsing. He fell asleep. + +When he awoke, he concluded that he had dreamed the whole thing. This +conclusion was justified when he asked his wretched “bunkie” if he +had observed him leaving the room during the night. The answer was a +mournful negative, followed by the sufferer's more or less positive +declaration that he was staring wide awake the whole damned night long. + +Percival, unconvinced, boldly made his way to the lower deck and +discovered that two life buoys were missing from their supports, a +circumstance that put an end to the hope that he had dreamed it all. His +own affairs however now loomed large, taking precedence over the plight +of the men who had deliberately abandoned the ship. In any case, the +ship's officers had done everything that could be done in the matter. +He was genuinely astonished to learn that the act of the two men was +unknown to the Captain. + +A hurried conference of the ship's officers and the commander of the +gun-crew resulted in a single but definite conclusion. The desperate, +even suicidal manner in which the men left the ship signified but one +thing: the absolute necessity of flight before an even more sinister +peril confronted them. Not a man on board doubted for an instant that +they had taken their chance in the waters as a part of a preconceived +plan, and they had taken it with all the devilish hardihood of fanatics. + +The presence of the motor craft, so far out from port, lurking +with silent engine in the path of the steamship, could have but one +significance. It represented one of the carefully thought-out details in +a stupendous, far-reaching plot. + +If there were signals between the motor boat and the two men aboard the +steamship, they were not observed by the lookouts. In all probability no +signals were given. The little craft was to be at a certain place at a +certain hour,--and she was there! The men who jumped knew that she would +be there. A black, tiny speck on the broad expanse of water, sheltered +by a night of almost stygian darkness, she lay outside the narrow radius +to which visual observation was confined, patiently waiting for the +Doraine to pass a designated point. There was to be no miscalculation on +the part of either the boat or the men who went over the side of the big +steamship into the seething waters. + +The closest inquiry among the members of the crew failed to reveal +any one who had witnessed the leap of the men. Percival was positive, +however, that some one ran along the lower deck, but whether toward or +away from the spot where the men went over he had no means of knowing. +He offered the suggestion that there were three persons actually +involved, and that one of them, more than likely the victim of a +coin-flipping decision, had remained on board to complete the work the +trio had been chosen to perform, even though death was to be his lot. + +The Second Officer had been regarding Percival with ever-growing +suspicion. + +“Is there anything to prove, young man, that you are not the one who +stayed behind to complete the job?” he demanded at last. + +“Nothing,” said Percival promptly, and somewhat scathingly, “nothing at +all, except the trifling fact that I am here talking it over with you +gentlemen instead of attending to my business, as any honest conspirator +should be doing. You may be quite sure of one thing: if there is a man +on board this ship whose business it is to finish the job, he isn't +idle. He's getting on with the job at this minute, gentlemen. If you'll +take my advice you will institute two investigations. First, search +the ship from stem to stern, from keel to bridge, for bombs or infernal +machines. Second, ask your rich passengers if they have lost anything in +the shape of pearls, diamonds, coin of the realm, or anything else worth +jumping into the ocean for.” + +Captain Trigger looked at him over the top of his eye-glasses. + +“You are not in Copperhead Camp at present, Mr. Percival,” he said +stiffly. + +The young man flushed. “I beg your pardon, Captain Trigger,” he said +simply. + +“All you have to do,” said the Second Officer, fixing him with an +inimical eye, “is to answer questions and not to tell us how to run this +ship.” + +Percival did his best to hold back the retort, but, failing, released it +with considerable sharpness: + +“Well, if I was running this ship I'd head her for shore pretty damned +quick.” + +The American in command of the gun-crew was the only one who smiled, and +he did it openly. Captain Trigger's face darkened redly. + +“Take this man in charge, Mr. Shannon. He wants work. Give it him. Under +guard.” + +“Am I suspected, Captain Trigger, of being in league--” + +“Every man, every woman on board this ship is suspected,” said the +Captain with decision. “Every one, sir, from myself down. The rest of us +grasp that fact, even if you do not.” + +And so it was that while Algernon Adonis Percival, under the watchful +eye of a burly seaman, fell to work scraping the scuppers on the boat +deck, the stern business of searching the ship went forward with +a thoroughness that left no room for doubt as to the fears and +apprehensions of the men who had her in charge. Despite the fact that +intensive, anxious hours of delving revealed no hidden, sinister agent +of destruction, there was no relaxation on the part of the officers and +crew. One by one the passengers were examined; their rooms and their +luggage were systematically overhauled. No one resented these drastic +operations, for by midday the whole ship's company knew what had +transpired during the night. Eagerly they answered the questions, +cheerfully they submitted to the examination of their effects, and then +fell silent and subdued, oppressed by the suspense that hung over the +ship like a cloud. Crew and passengers alike underwent the most rigid +questioning, the high and the low, the rich and the poor, the young and +the old. + +Early that morning, in fact some time prior to the time that Percival +told his story, the wireless operator reported that his transmitter was +out of order. While he was satisfied that the apparatus had not been +tampered with, he was plainly affected by the rather grim coincidence. +He was an old and trusted man in the service, competent, efficient and +loyal. + +His assistant, the night operator, however, had made less than half a +dozen voyages on the Doraine. He was an Englishman, a cripple; twice +he had been rescued after vessels on which he sailed were sent to the +bottom by German submarines. His credentials were flawless. He was on +duty during the night just past, and had picked up several indistinct, +incomplete radio messages. There was nothing wrong with the receiving or +transmitting apparatus when he went off duty at six in the morning, and +as his superior came on at the same hour,--they exchanged greetings at +the door of the wireless house,--it was absolutely impossible for any +one to have entered the well-guarded room without attracting attention. +Cruise, the chief radio-man, had his assistant routed out of bed and +together they worked like beavers over the disabled mechanism. + +Hour after hour, the nervous, uneasy passengers paced the decks. Few +remained indoors, and few possessed the calmness to loll in deck-chairs. + +Percival toiled cheerfully, but with eye and ear alert for the first +inkling of definite peril. With commendable thoughtfulness, he had shed +the clean white shirt and collar so generously supplied by his fellow +townsman, and had donned a commodious sea-jacket. + +He could not help observing the dark, suspicious glances cast upon him +by the deck-walkers, nor were his ears proof against audible comments. +Mothers nudged their children and said, in slightly lowered but +distinctly impressive tones: + +“That's the man. He's a stowaway.” + +“See, Wilfred,--see the man? No, no! The one with the mop, dear. Don't +go near him.” + +“What a dreadful looking creature he is.” + +“The Captain captured him this morning away down in the bottom of the +ship. He was stealing a ride.” + +“Poor fellow! He doesn't look like a bad man, does he?” + +And so on and so forth, as the day went along. + +Masculine strollers had very decided opinions about him. Mr. Landover, +the banker, stopped to discuss the toiling menial with Mr. Nicklestick, +Mr. Block and Mr. Fitts. + +“He ought to be in irons,” said Mr. Landover, glowering at Percival. +“That's what I told the Captain a little while ago. He's a bad egg, that +fellow is. I'm a pretty good judge of men, gentlemen, and I don't often +make mistakes. That fellow is a fugitive from justice, if he isn't +something worse. Observe the cut of his mouth--ah! see that? What did I +tell you? Did you ever see a more evil grin?” + +“Take it from me,” said Mr. Nicklestick, “that guy knows a good deal +more about what is going on aboard this ship than he lets on. He ain't +as simple as he looks. I told Captain Trigger just now that he ought to +give him a dose of the third degree. That's the way to get to the bottom +of this business. String him up by the thumbs till he squeals. What say, +Mr. Fitts?” + +Mr. Fitts, the architect, was a mild man. + +“He strikes me as a rather honest looking sort of chap,” he said, and +was promptly glared at by his companions. “Of course,” he hastened to +add, “I am not saying that he is all right. He may be as crooked as the +deuce. I'm only saying he's got a rather pleasing sort of face.” + +“The most innocent, open-faced young fellow we ever had in the bank,” + said Mr. Landover, “turned out to be the damnedest rascal I've ever +encountered.” + +“How did you happen to have him in the bank if you are such a good judge +of men?” inquired Mr. Fitts, utterly without malice. + +Mr. Landover reddened. “My dear sir, I do not come in contact with +every employe of the bank. You forget that it is quite an immense +institution.” + +“It sure is,” said Mr. Nicklestick. “I'm thinking of transferring our +account to your bank, Mr. Landover. We've been banking with--” + +“I vas telling my vife at lunch,” broke in Mr. Block, twitching his +Hebraic nose emphatically,--“not that we could eat any lunch, by +gracious, no!--I vas telling her I bet my boots dere ain't enough +life-boats to get as much as half of us off safe in case something +happens. I counted up all the life-boats I could see, and ven I estimate +the number of peoples on board, w'y, by gracious, the loss of life +vould be frightful, gentlemen. The only chance we would haf would be +for approxi-madely fifty percent of the peoples on board to be killed +outright by the explosion.” + +“I hear there is a detective from Chicago on board, with a prisoner,” + ventured Mr. Fitts. “Why doesn't the Captain ask him to have a look at +this stowaway fellow?” + +“What would be the good of that?” demanded Mr. Landover. “I never saw a +detective in my life that knew what to do in an emergency. Soon as +you get one of them where he can't telephone in to headquarters +for instructions he's as helpless as a baby. Don't talk to me about +detectives. Why, this fellow would simply laugh in his face.” + +“Just, as he is laughing in yours at this moment, Mr. Landover,” pursued +Mr. Fitts pleasantly. + +“The damned rascal,” said Mr. Landover, and stalked away. + +“There goes one of the biggest figures in the United States,” said Mr. +Nicklestick, looking after the banker. His remark was addressed to Mr. +Fitts. “I wish I had his brains.” + +“Dey vouldn't do you any good, Nicklestick,” said Mr. Block, “unless you +had his money too also.” + +“If I had his brains,” said Mr. Nicklestick, “he wouldn't have his +money, so what's the difference?” + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Mr. Block looked uneasily out over the tumbling ocean, focusing his gaze +on a section of the horizon that for want of something more definite +than mere hope lay in a direct line with the City of New York. + +“And ven you stop to think,” said he wistfully, “that we are still +something like six thousand miles from home,--oh, veil! Vat's the use? I +bet you I never go so far avay from my business again. Vat a fool I vas +to make this trip ven the whole ocean is full of submarines and German +agents and plotters and--Yes, vat a fool ven I had so many high-priced +men vorking for me who vas crazy to come. But my vife she vould do it. +Paris and London every year it used to be, so she must haf a little +holiday or she vill die, she say. Veil, here we are. And ven I think +vat a long holiday it is going to be maybe,--by gracious, I could kick +myself for not giving in to my brother-in-law ven he begged so hard to +be allowed to make the trip because he needed the change from not being +avay from the office for five years, and his vife and children too. His +vife she needed a change as much as he, vat with not being able to get +into any good hotels in the summer time and not being able to keep +out of them in the vinter time, she vas nearly distracted. No, I vas +selfish. My vife she vas selfish too,--and him her own brother. Vy +shouldn't he haf a vacation vonce in awhile?” + +He turned abruptly to the sailor who lounged near the perspiring +Percival. + +“How far is it to land, my frient?” he inquired. + +The sailor touched his cap. “Which way, sir?” he asked solemnly. “Fore +or aft?” + +(Percival said to himself: “By golly, I'll bet that man is an +American.”) + +“Vat? Land,--you know vat I mean,--the end of the ocean. How far avay is +it?” + +The sailor calculated. “Well, the nearest land, sir, I should say, is +about three hundred miles away, to port.” + +“How deep is it here?” asked Mr. Nicklestick, moving away from the rail +suddenly. + +The sailor glanced down at the water, squinted an eye, and then spoke +reassuringly. + +“It ain't half as deep here as it is a little furder on,” he said. “It's +only a shade over three miles where we are now, sir. We're comin' to +the deepest part of the ocean,--ought to be there inside of a couple of +hours. Here, you! On the job, on the job!” + +“You ought to search that man carefully,” advised Mr. Nicklestick. + +“I have,” growled the sailor. “He says he never uses it in that form. I +guess he's tellin' the truth.” + +“Never uses what?” + +“Tobacco, sir.” + +“Oh!” said Mr. Nicklestick, and, catching a glimpse of Madame Obosky +emerging upon the deck, unceremoniously deserted his companions and +hurried off to join her, his speed being suddenly accelerated by the +spectacle of Mr. Shine, the motion picture magnate, who approached the +lady from an equidistant station and with similar haste. Mr. Block, +being a trifle near-sighted and in some doubt as to the whereabouts of +his wife, peered here and there intently, and then bore down upon the +celebrated Russian dancer, who, it would seem, was in dire need of +consolation. + +Mr. Fitts followed them with a glance over his glasses and then turned +to the sailor man. + +“I suppose it's against orders for me to speak to this man,” he said. + +“Yes, sir.” + +The architect sighed, and walked away. + +The parade became more interesting as the lack of news from the +investigators restored a sort of hopeful optimism to the breasts of the +anxious company. Those who had maintained a stubborn air of bravado, +now became almost offensively jaunty. Others, frankly terrified at the +outset, sauntered timidly away from the life-boats to which they were +assigned. Every one was glad that the Captain had ordered a life-boat +drill on the first afternoon out, and every one was glad that he had +ignored the demand of Mr. Landover that the boats be lowered the instant +he discovered that his passengers were in peril. No news was good news, +argued the majority, and jesting was in order. + +Peter Snipe, the novelist, got out a pad of paper and began jotting down +impressions. Madam Careni-Amori and Signor Joseppi exchanged the first +friendly words they had spoken to each other in weeks, and in full view +of an entranced audience linked arms and strode bravely to and fro, the +former clasping a huge jewel case to her ample bosom, the latter +chafing perceptibly under the weight of an invisible belt stuffed to its +capacity with banknotes and gold. Chilean ladies and Chilean gentlemen, +dazzling Brazilian ladies and pompous Brazilian gentlemen, smug +Argentinians, lordly Castilians, garrulous Portuguese, lofty English +gentlemen and supercilious English ladies, friendly and irrepressible +Americans,--all of them swinging their sea-legs with new-found +abandon--clattered solidly around the wind-swept circuit. New faces +appeared in the procession, new voices were raised with energy, new +figures sprang into existence with marvellous rapidity. It seemed to +Percival that the population doubled and tripled and quadrupled with +every throb of the powerful engines. He saw his “bunkie” of the night +before,--the man who was trying so hard to die and couldn't,--he saw him +plunging along with the throng, pale but valiant, ferociously glaring at +every one who smoked. + +A small group of American nurses, some young and pretty, others young +and homely, but all of them sprightly and clear-eyed,--nine of them, in +fact--tramped by in “columns of three.” + +Percival's guardian jerked his head in their direction after they had +passed, and volunteered this bit of information: + +“Hornswoggled, them girls was. Come all the way down from New York +six months ago. Promised double pay and plenty of work in the American +colony. Sore as crabs, all of 'em. They got double pay all right, all +right, but there was some misunderstandin' as to what single pay was to +be to start off with. Single pay turned out to be just whatever suited +the people that employed 'em, seein's they were nearly seven thousand +miles away from God and up against it, so they're beatin' it back home +to volunteer for service in France. I heard one of 'em say she could +save more money workin' for nothin' in France than she could earn in +a year down here at double pay. What'd you say your name was, young +feller?” + +“Percival.” + +“I mean your last name.” + +“That's it.” + +“Come off! Nobody ever had a last name like that.” + +“You ought to hear what my first name is,--and my middle one, too. You +said a little while ago you'd never seen any one of my size with bigger +and harder muscles. Well, if you knew what my full name is, old man, +you'd understand why I began developing them,--I've got a lot more too +that you can't see,--when I first began going to school.” + +“What is your other names?” inquired the sailor curiously. + +“Algernon Adonis,” said Percival. + +The sailor was silent for a moment, thinking of the proper thing to say. +Then he said: + +“You're dead right. It takes a heap of muscle to pertect a name like +that.” + +Three women stopped in front of the two men. Percival kept his eyes +lowered. + +“Why,--why, Auntie,--I know him,” fell from the lips of one of the trio. +There was not only surprise in her voice but a trace of awe as well. + +The swabber looked up quickly. He found himself gazing straight into the +eyes of the speaker. Her lips were parted, her head was bent slightly +forward, her eyes expressed utter incredulity and bewilderment. Her +companion, an elderly lady, and a bespectacled young woman who carried +an arm-load of steamer-rugs, stared not at him but at the girl who had +delivered this startling announcement. + +“I mean I,--that is, I may be mistaken,” stammered the latter, suddenly +averting her eyes. A wave of crimson swept over her face. + +“Undoubtedly,” exclaimed the elderly lady with great positiveness. +Turning to inspect the object under discussion, she sustained a shock +that caused her to stiffen and draw in her breath quickly. + +Percival was smiling in a most friendly and encouraging manner. He went +farther, and lifted his disreputable white canvas hat. + +“Oh, goodness!” exclaimed the young lady in a sort of panic. “Are +you--is it really you, Mr. Percival?” + +Mr. Percival glanced inquiringly at his guard. + +“That's his name, Miss,” said that worthy. “And that's one of the +three reasons why he's got them muscular arms you're lookin' at. Sorry, +though, but my orders are not to allow any one to speak to him.” + +“Are you crazy, Ruth?” cried the older lady, aghast. “It's the stowaway +every one is talking about. The one who tried to blow up the ship.” + +The young lady returned Percival's smile,--rather a diffident, uncertain +effort, to be sure, but still a smile,--and murmured something about +night before last at the Alcazar Grand. + +“What are you saying, Ruth? Do you mean to say you met this man at the +Alcazar Grand?” + +“Yes, Aunt Julia,” said the other wrinkling her pretty forehead in +perplexity. “He--he danced with me.” + +“He--you danced with him?” gasped the horrified Aunt Julia. + +“Don't you remember? Phil Morton introduced him to us. I--I can't +believe my eyes.” + +“I can't believe mine,” snapped the elder woman. “I never saw this +fellow before in my life. The idea! Phil Morton having a friend +like--You are mistaken. And people are staring at us.” + +“Just the same,” said her niece, stubbornly, “I did dance with him, and, +what's more, I danced more than once with him. Didn't I, Mr. Percival?” + +Mr. Percival, still beaming, again looked at the sailor appealingly. + +“You can tell it to me,” said the latter, furtively glancing to the +right and left before making the concession. + +Looking straight into the sailor's eyes, Percival said: + +“Yes, Miss Clinton. I had four dances with you,--and a lemon squash.” + +“Wait a moment, Aunt Julia,” protested the young lady, holding back. +“Would you mind telling me, Mr. Percival, how you happen to be here and +in this plight? You didn't mention sailing on the Doraine.” + +Mr. Percival, to the sailor: “Neither did you, Miss Clinton. You +certainly are no more surprised than I am.” + +“Why are you on board as a stowaway? Phil Morton told me you belong to +an old Baltimore family and had all kinds of--that is, you were quite +well-off.” + +Mr. Percival, to the sailor: “Please don't blush, Miss Clinton. I'm not +the least bit sensitive. Money isn't everything. I seem to be able +to get along without it. Later on, I hope to have the opportunity to +explain just why--” + +“That'll do,” interrupted the sailor. “Here comes the Captain.” + +Captain Trigger hove in sight around the corner of the deck building, +with Chief Engineer Gray and the Second Officer. + +“I don't know what to make of you,” said Miss Clinton, sorely puzzled. +Her aunt was clutching her arm. “You seemed so awfully jolly the other +night. And--and just look at you now.” + +She moved away, followed by the bespectacled young woman and the +steamer-rugs, graceful despite the sudden yank with which her aunt set +her in motion. Percival managed to keep an eye on her till she turned +the corner. Then he sighed. + +The Captain halted in front of him. + +“Are you acquainted with Mrs. Spofford and her niece, Percival?” he +inquired. + +“Miss Clinton has done me the honour to remember meeting me night before +last at the Alcazar Grand, sir. Mrs. Spofford is not so generous.” + +“I see,” said Captain Trigger reflectively. “You will report at once to +Mr. Gray. He will give you a less public job, as you call it.” A twinkle +came into his eyes. “He doesn't like the hat you're wearing. Nor the +shirt. Nor the boots.” + +“Thank you, sir.” + +“And, by the way, Percival, as soon as you are slightly refurbished I +want you to stroll through the second cabin and if possible identify the +two stewards who came to No. 22. Let me see, was it during the day or at +night?” + +“Some time during the night, sir. Eleven or half-past, I should say.” + +“Very well.” + +An hour later he reported to Captain Trigger. “I have seen all of the +stewards, sir, according to Mr. Codge, and I do not recognize any of +them as the men who came to No. 22. I had a fairly good view of them, +too, from beneath the lower berth. They spoke in a language I did not +understand--” + +“Do you understand German?” + +“No, sir. I know it when I hear it, however. They were not speaking +German. I may have been wrong, but I came to the conclusion that they +were transferring some one to No. 22. They brought in two suitcases, and +left them when they went out. I--” + +Captain Trigger brought his clenched fist down on the table with a +resounding, emphatic bang. + +“Now, we have it! That Chicago detective is right, by gad!” + +He turned to the small group of officers clustered behind him. Fresh +alarm,--real consternation,--had leaped into the eyes of every man of +them. + +“Then--then, that means our search isn't over?” cried Mr. Mott, starting +up. + +“It does! Every inch of this ship,--every damned inch of it, from stem +to stern. Overlook nothing, Mr. Mott. Don't delay a second.” + +Percival was alone with the agitated Captain an instant later. Trigger's +eyes were rather wild and bloodshot. The younger man's face blanched. He +knew now that the danger was real. He waited for the Captain to speak. + +“Percival, the two men you saw in 22 were not stewards. They were the +men who jumped overboard. You tell me they left two bags there when they +went out of the room. Well, they were not there this morning when the +regular steward went into the room. They have disappeared. But the +contents of those bags are still somewhere on board this ship. And if +they are not found in time, by gad, sir, we will all be in Kingdom Come +before we know it.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The first explosion occurred at eleven minutes past six. The chart-house +and part of the bridge were blown to pieces. Three dull, splintering +crashes ensued in rapid succession, proving beyond question that the +bombs were set to automatically explode at a given time. One of them +wrecked the engine-room; another blew a great hole in the stern of the +ship, above the water line; the third destroyed the wireless house and +carried away a portion of the deck with it. + +There were eight in all of these devilish machines in the heart of the +Doraine. Some time prior to the first explosion, the feverish searchers +had uncovered four of them, cunningly planted in the most vital parts +of the ship. Two were taken from the lower hold, one at each end of the +vessel, and two more were found close to the carefully protected section +of the vessel in which a rather insignificant but deadly shipment of +high explosives was stored. + +The discovery of the four bombs and their immediate consignment to the +sea saved the ship from being blown to bits. With another hour to spare, +it is more than probable the remaining four would have been found, +notwithstanding the amazing cleverness with which they were hidden, so +thorough and so dogged was the search. Confusion, terror, stupefaction +and finally panic followed the successive blasts. The decks were strewn +with people prostrated by the violent upheavals, and many there were who +never got up again. Stunned, dazed, bewildered, those who were able to +do so scrambled to their feet only to be hurled down again and again. +Shrieks, groans, prayers,--and curses,--filled the brief, ghastly +silences between the muffled detonations. The great vessel surged and +rolled and plunged like a tortured animal. + +The splintering of wood, the rending of plates, the shattering of glass, +and above all this horrid turmoil the mighty roaring and hissing of +steam!... And the wild, gurgling cries of the frantic unfortunates who +had leaped into the sea! + +Out of the chaos with incredible swiftness came the paralysis of +despair, and out of that slowly but surely groped the never-failing +courage of the men who go down to the sea in ships. Hoarse commands +lifted above the groans and prayers, and strong but shaken figures +sprang with mechanical precision to the posts allotted them. Life-boat +after life-boat went down into the sea that glistened with the slanting +rays of an untroubled sun, low-lying at the end of day. + +Fire broke out in several places. Down into the bowels of the ship +plunged the resolute, undaunted heroes who remained behind, the chosen +complement reserved for just such an emergency by the far-seeing master. + +Above the hissing of steam and the first feeble cracklings of flame, +rose the stentorian voice of the Captain from his post at the base of +the demolished bridge. + +“Fight, men! Fight! Fight! There are dying men below! Stand by! Fight +for them!” + +He was bloody and almost unrecognizable as he stood there clutching a +stanchion for support. His legs were rigid, his body swayed, but his +spirit was as staunch as the star that had guided him for fifty years +through the trackless waste. + +And while these doughty, desperate spirits fought the fire and smoke +with every means at their command, down in the suffocating depths of the +ship, braving not only the peril visible and at hand, but the prospect +of annihilation in the event that a belated bomb projected its hideous +force into the nest of high explosives,--while these men fought, the +smiling, placid sea was alive with small white craft that bobbed in the +gleaming sunlight, life-boats crowded to the gunwales with shuddering, +bleak-eyed men, women and children waiting to pick up those who stayed +behind, and who inevitably would be driven overboard by the resistless, +conquering flames. + +Cruising about at a safe distance from the menacing hull, these boats +managed to rescue a few of the beings who had leaped overboard in the +first mad panic of fear, but many there were who went down never to be +seen again. No boat was without its wounded--and its dead; no boat was +without its stricken, anxious-eyed survivors who watched and prayed +for the salvation of loved ones left behind. With straining eyes they +searched the surface of the sea, peered at the occupants of near and +distant boats, stared at the scurrying figures on the decks of the +smoking steamer, hoping,--always hoping,--and always sobbing out the +endless prayer. + +At last, as the sun sank below the blue-black horizon, exhausted, +red-eyed, gasping men struggled up from the drenched, smothering +interior of the ship, and hurled themselves, not into the sea, but +prone upon the decks! They had conquered! The scattered, vagrant fires, +attacked in their infancy, while still in the creeping stage, had been +subdued. + +Darkness fell. A chill night air stole out of the east, stealthily +trailing the sun. Will-o'-the-wisp lights bespecked the sea, surrounding +the black hulk that lay motionless in the center of the circle. Lanterns +in a score or more of small boats bobbed fitfully in the gentle swell. +Presently lights appeared on board the Doraine, one here, one there, +then others in twos and threes,--some of them stationary, others moving +slowly from place to place. The life-boats crept closer, still closer. +Then, out from the silent hulk, came the voice of man. It was the +voice of the First Officer, hoarse and unrecognizable, but sharp with +authority. Other voices repeated the commands from various parts of the +ship,--commands to the encircling will-o'-the-wisps. + +The word came down to the scores who filled the boats that they were to +lie by until sunrise, keeping in close contact with each other and at no +great distance from the ship. The most thorough, careful examination of +the steamer was in progress. If it was found that she was in no danger +of foundering,--and the word was most reassuring,--all of them would +be taken aboard in the morning. Nothing could be done at present. A few +hours more would tell the tale. + +And then, for the first time since the disaster, the note of the croaker +was heard. Each and every boat contained at least one individual who +knew exactly what ought to be done in a crisis like this. + +Mr. Landover addressed the benumbed, unresisting occupants of the boat +into which he had climbed with commendable reluctance as one of the last +persons to leave the ship. + +“Why don't they begin sending out S. O. S. calls? What's the wireless +for, if not to be used at a time like this? Say, you! Yell up there to +some of those damned muddled-headed idiots and tell them what to do. +Tell them that I say for them to send out calls for help. What's that? +What did you say?” + +The steward in charge of the boat repeated his remark and Mr. Landover +at once said he would report him to Captain Trigger. + +“But it won't do any good,” complained the banker despairingly. “Captain +Trigger hasn't got the backbone of a fishworm. He'd let you tell him to +go to hell and never think of jacking you up for it. No wonder we're +in the fix we're in now. If he'd had the sense of a jelly-fish he'd +have--Here! Sit still! You'll upset the boat, you fool! What--What are +you going to do with that oar?” + +“I'm going to crack you over the bean with it if you don't take back +what you said about Captain Trigger,” said the steward, very earnestly. +“Take it back, do you hear me?” + +“My God, would you murder me for a little thing like that?” + +Mr. Nicklestick aroused himself from the torpor of despair. + +“Take it back, Mr. Landover,--please do. If he misses you, he'll get me +sure, it's so dark, and so help me God, I got nothing but the deepest +respect for Captain Trigger. He's a vonderful man, steward. Don't make +any mistake. You hear me say he is a vonderful man? Veil,--” + +“Oh, shut up, Nicklestick,” grated Landover, crouching down behind the +gentleman addressed. + +The steward sat down. “I'd do it in a minute if it wasn't for the women +an' children in this boat.” + +“I intend to have every officer on that steamer arrested for criminal +negligence the instant I set foot in New York,” boomed the banker. “I +call upon every one of you, my fellow-passengers, to testify to the +utter lack of precaution taken by the men in charge of that ship. And +what effort are they making to bring help to us now? By gad, if I was +in command of that vessel I'd be shooting wireless calls to every--Great +Scott! What's that?” + +“That's a rocket, you blamed old fool!” roared the steward. + +“Good God!” gasped the exasperated banker. “Are we having a celebration +with fireworks?” + +The dull, hapless occupants of the lifeboats watched with fascinated +eyes the first of the giant rockets that whizzed and roared its way up +from the deck of the ship, an endless arrow of fire piercing the night. +A loud report, the scattering of a hundred stars, and then--denser +blackness than before. + +Morning came. Up out of the east stole a sickly grey. It turned slowly +into pink, and then suddenly the sea once more was blue and smiling. +In the heart of the dancing cordon lay the weirdly camouflaged Doraine, +inert, sinister, as still and cold as death. No smoke issued from her +stacks to cheer the wretched watchers; no foam, no spray leaped from her +mighty bow. She was a great, lifeless thing. Waves lapped gently against +her sides and fell away only to come back again in playful scorn for the +vast object that had rent and baffled them so long. On high fluttered +the Stars and Stripes, gay in the presence of death, a sprightly +harbinger of hope flaunting defiance in the face of despair. + +Men, stripped to the waist, grimy and shining with the sweat of hours, +moving about in knots of three and four--always in knots of three or +four as if afraid to disintegrate--leaned upon the rail and watched the +approach of the crowded boats, looked down into pallid, anguished faces +with their eager, hungry eyes, eyes that devoured the groups along the +rail. Now and then a glad shout of joy went up from one of the boats, +and a figure in the huddled mass was transformed into a responsive thing +of life. + +In each of the square, black openings in the hull of the ship stood +men with ropes and ladders. The great steel doors lay flat against the +sides, swung wide to admit this time a human cargo. From the interior of +the vessel came the brisk, incessant clatter of hammers against wood and +steel; from the decks broke the loud, commanding voices of men calling +out directions; from the gliding, slapping boats went up the hearty +shouts of understanding and obedience, the rattling of boat-hooks, the +grinding of oars in the locks, the murmur of voices revived. + +“Vomen and children first!” was the shrill, oft-repeated exhortation +from one of the boats. + +And up in the centre of another sprang a fine, imposing figure, from +whose lips rolled these thrilling words: + +“By God, they're great! They're great, after all! God bless Captain +Trigger and every man-jack of them!” + +“Get down!” roared his still unpacified critic, the steward. “You'll +fall overboard, you dam' fool!” + +The gaunt, coatless Mr. Mott commanded the port side of the vessel; +Mr. Codge, the purser, the starboard. Fighting men in the breeches and +leggings of the American Navy; blackened and bandaged stokers, sailors +and landsmen comprised the motley company that stood ready to drag the +occupants of the boats up into the dank, smoke-scented maw of the ship. + +One by one, in regular, systematic order, the lifeboats came alongside. +There was no confusion, no bungling. They bumped gently against the +towering rows of plates, and, made fast by ropes with ample play, +gave up in time their precious cargoes. No one lifted up his voice in +rejoicing, for there were dead and injured back in the shadows; there +were grief-stricken, anxious men and women crouching out there in the +sunshine; there were limp, unconscious women and half-dead children; and +over all still hung the ominous cloud of catastrophe fat with prophecies +of perils yet to come. + +They had gone out from a ship filled with a monstrous clangour and +confusion, they were returning to a tomblike hulk, a lonely mass in +which echoes would abound, a thing of sighs and silences, the corpse of +a mammoth that had throbbed yesterday,--but never more. + +Up in the curving triangle of the forward deck were two long, +canvas-covered rows. The dead! Forty-six twisted, silent forms lying +side by side, some calm in death, others charred and mutilated beyond +all possibility of identification. Every man in the engine-room at +the time of the explosion was now a mangled, unrecognizable thing. +Engineers, electricians, stokers,--all of them wiped out in the flash of +an eye,--burnt, boiled, shattered. Half a dozen women, as many children, +lay with the silent men. + +The injured had been placed in staterooms on the promenade deck, +regardless of previous occupancy or subsequent claim. There lay the +score and a half of seriously injured, and there toiled the ship's +surgeon and his volunteer helpers. Sailor and merchant, worker and +idler, scholar and dolt, steerage and first cabin, wealth and poverty, +shared alike in the disposition of quarters and shared alike in +attention. There was no discrimination. One life was as good as another +to the doctor and his men, the poor man's moan as full of suffering as +that of the rich man, the wail of the steerage woman as piteous as that +of her sister above. + +Captain Trigger was one of the injured. He swore a great deal when the +doctor ordered him to bed. Ribs and a broken arm? Why the devil should +he be put to bed for something a schoolboy would laugh at? Mr. Shannon +and two of the younger officers were killed by the explosion that +wrecked the bridge and chart house. Chief Engineer Gray died in the +engine-room. Cruise was blown to pieces in the wireless house. His +assistant, the cripple with the charmed life, was dead. + +A few seconds before the first explosion took place he blew out his +brains with a big navy revolver. The last seen of Cruise was when he +appeared in the door of his station, an expression of mingled rage and +alarm on his face. Pointing frantically at the figure of his assistant +as it shot down the steps and across the deck, he shouted: + +“Get that man! Get him! For God's sake, get him!” + +It all happened in a few seconds of time. The shrill laugh of +the fleeing assistant, the report of the revolver, an instant of +stupefaction,--and then the dull, grinding crash. + +It will never be known what Cruise had heard or seen in the last moments +of his life. No one on board the Doraine, however, doubted for an +instant that he had discovered, too late, the truth about his misshapen +assistant. They now knew with almost absolute certainty the identity of +the odd man in that devilish trio, the man whose footsteps Percival had +heard, the man who stayed behind to guarantee the consummation of the +hideous plot. Coward in the end, he shirked the death he was pledged to +accept. He knew what was coming. Unlike his braver comrades, he took the +simplest way. + +The count began. Late in the afternoon it was completed. There were +forty-six known dead on board the Doraine, the majority being members +of the crew. Seventeen persons were missing, chiefly from the steerage. +Twenty-nine seriously injured were under the doctor's care. Some of +them would not recover. A hundred or more persons suffered from shock, +bruises, cuts and exposure, but only a few of them required or demanded +attention. In spite of their injuries, they fell to with the spirit that +makes for true heroism and devoted themselves to the care of the less +fortunate, or to the assistance of the sorely-tried officers and men who +strove to bring order out of chaos. + +Among the survivors were two American surgeons and a physician from Rio +Janeiro. They, with the nurses, all of whom had been saved, immediately +went to the relief of the ship's doctor, and in short order an +improvised hospital was established. There was a remarkable unanimity +of self-sacrifice among the passengers. High and low, they fell to in +a frenzy of comradeship, and worked side by side in whatsoever capacity +they were needed, whether fitted for it or not. No man, no woman, +who was able to lift a helping hand, failed in this hour of need. The +bereaved, as well as those who were untouched by a personal grief, gave +all that was in them, tearfully, grimly, ardently. + +Menial labour fell to the lot of the lordly but uncomplaining Landover, +to Block and Nicklestick, Jones and Snipe, and even to the precious +Signor Joseppi, who, forgetting his Caruso-like throat, toiled and +sweated in the smoky saloon. + +Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate, the while he laboured amidst +the wreckage of the after deck, lamented not the cheerless task but the +evil fate that prevented the making of the most spectacular film the +world had ever known. + +Madame Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky and her dancers; bejewelled Jewesses +and half-clad emigrants; gentle women unused to toil and women who were +born to it; the old and the young--all of them, without exception,--rose +from the depths of despair and faced the rigours of the day with +unflinching courage, gave out of a limitless store of tenderness all +that their strength could spare. + +And through a neglected, abandoned field of pearls and gold and precious +stones, limped unchallenged the tireless figure of “Soapy” Shay, +diamond thief, a bloody bandage about his head, an exalted light in +his pain-stricken eyes. His one-time captor lay stark and cold in the +gruesome line in the bow of the boat. It was “Soapy” Shay who staggered +out of the rack and smoke with the burly, stricken detective in his +arms, and it was “Soapy” Shay who wept when the last breath of life +cased out through his tortured lips. For of all the company on board the +Doraine, there was but one whom “Soapy” knew, but one who called him by +name and shared tobacco with him,--and that one was William Spinney, the +man who was taking him back to a place where mercy would not be shown. + +After the sun had set and the decks were dark and deserted except for +the men employed in the gruesome business, the dead were lowered into +the sea, swathed in canvas and weighted with things that were made to +kill,--shells from the gunners' hoard. Swiftly, methodically, one after +the other, they slid down to the black, greedy waters, sank to the +grave that is never still yet always silent, to the vast, unexplored +wilderness that stretches around the world. The thin little missionary +from the barren plateaus of Patagonia and the plump priest from the +heart of Buenos Aires monotonously commended each and every one of them +to the mercy of God! + +The sun came up again in the morning over a smiling, happy sea that +licked the sides of the Doraine with the tenderness of a dog. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +The plight of the hapless steamer could not be disguised. Even the most +ignorant passenger knew that the wrecked engines could not be repaired +or compounded. They knew that the Doraine was completely paralysed. The +power to move at will was for ever lost, the force that had driven her +resistlessly along the chosen path was still. The powerful propellers +were idle, the huge stern-post wrenched so badly that the rudder was +useless. She was adrift, helplessly adrift. Of what avail the wheel +and a patched-up rudder to the mass that lay inert, motionless on the +smiling sea? + +Every one on board realized, with sinking heart, that the Doraine was to +go on drifting, drifting no man knew whither, until she crossed the +path of a friendly stranger out there in the mighty waste. No cry +of distress, no call for help could go crackling into the boundless +reaches. That was the plight of the Doraine and her people on the +mocking day that followed the disaster, and unless fate intervened that +would be her plight for days without end. + +Mr. Mott, temporarily in command, addressed the passengers in the main +saloon, where they had congregated at his request. He did not mince +matters. He stated the situation plainly. It was best that they should +realize, that they should understand, that they should know the truth, +in order that they might adapt themselves to the conditions he was now +compelled of necessity to impose upon them. They were, so to speak, +occupying a derelict. Help might come before nightfall, it might not +come for days. He hoped for the best but he intended to prepare for the +worst. + +Without apology he laid down a rigid set of rules, and from these rules, +he made it perfectly clear, there could be no deviation. The available +supply of food was limited. It was his purpose to conserve it with the +greatest possible care. Down in the holds, of course, was a vast store +of consigned foodstuffs, but he had no authority to draw upon it and +would not do so unless the ship's own stock was exhausted. Passengers +and crew, therefore, would be obliged to go on short rations. “Better +to eat sparingly now,” he said, “than not to eat at all later on.” He +concluded his remarks in this fashion: + +“Remember that we are all in the same boat. We don't know how long we'll +be drifting like this and we don't know where we're drifting to. It's an +everlastingly big ocean we're on. We ought to thank God we're not at the +bottom of it now. If we're lucky we'll be picked up soon, if not,--well, +it's up to us, every one of us, to make the best of it. We're alive, +and that's certainly something. We'll all find it easier if we keep +ourselves busy. That's why I'm asking you, one and all, to do a good +day's work regularly, one way or another, from now until relief comes. +We can't have any loafers or quitters on board this ship. That means +everybody, rich and poor. You may think I'm putting a hardship on you, +seeing as how you have paid for your passage and all that, but what I'm +ordering you to do ain't a marker to what you'd be doing if you were out +there in lifeboats, eight hundred miles from shore, and--well, we won't +go into that. We've got to make the best of it, my friends. We're up +against it good and plenty, that's the plain facts of the case. There's +no use in me saying it's all going to turn out right in a day or so, +because I don't know a da--- blamed thing about it. We're in God's +hands. Maybe it will help to pray, but I doubt it. All I've got to say +is this: go down on your knees as much as you like, but don't lick!” + +Signor Joseppi lifted his voice, but not in song. In very bad English he +wanted to know how long the Captain thought it would be before they were +rescued, and when he was informed that it might not be for weeks or even +months, he cried out in worse English that he was ruined. He would have +to violate his contract! No impressario would think of engaging him +again! His wonderful American tour! If he was not rescued within a +week--Oh, my God, the consequences! He did not regret the paltry two +thousand a week--for thirty weeks--but to violate a contract! + +Mr. Mott looked rather helpless. He appreciated the fact that Signor +Joseppi was a very great personage, but what was he saying? Was +it--could it be mutiny? + +“I'm sorry, Mr. Joseppi,” he broke in, “but if Madame Amori is willing +to take her regular turn at making up berths, I guess it won't hurt you +to help every now and then in the dining-room.” + +Signor Joseppi did not understand a word of it. He turned to the man at +his elbow for enlightenment. + +“What did he say?” he whispered. + +“He says you have a perfectly marvellous voice and that he'd give two +thousand any time to hear you sing,” replied his neighbour in excellent +Italian. + +Whereupon the Signor favoured the severe-looking Mr. Mott with a beaming +smile and as deep a bow as he could make in such close quarters. + +“A most courteous officer,” he said to his neighbour. “It will be a joy +to serve him, my friend. We should, one and all, do what he asks of us, +no matter how mean the task. I, Joseppi,--you have heard of Joseppi, my +friend?--I shall be the example for all of you. Should he say, 'Wash +the dishes, Joseppi,' then will I wash the dishes. I, Joseppi, who never +washed a dish in his life. Should he say, 'Cook the meals, Joseppi,' +then will Joseppi, who never cooked a thing in his life, then will +Joseppi cook the meals. Should he say, 'Joseppi, scrub the floor,' then +will I scrub the floor. Should he say, 'Signor, steer the ship,' then +will I do my best to steer the ship. I who have never steered a ship. So +let me be your example, my friend.” + +“That's fine,” said his neighbour, as they moved off together. “But +supposing he asks you to sing occasionally to amuse the rest of +us,--what then?” + +“Amuse?” cried the Signor. “Amuse?” + +“Well, then, entertain.” + +The great Joseppi pursed his lips. His brows grew dark with trouble. + +“Ah, but that would be violating my contract,” he said. “My contract +specifically states that under no circumstances may I--” Then suddenly, +as if renouncing a sacred principle, his brow cleared, and he cried out: +“Damn the contract! Joseppi's voice is his own. Joseppi will do as he +pleases with it. Let him but make the request, my friend,--and Joseppi +will sing till he drops from exhaustion.” Lowering his voice to a +confidential undertone, he went on: “And that, my friend, is more than +you will find Careni-Amori willing to do. There is one cold-blooded, +grasping woman for you. Money! She thinks of nothing but money. And +flattery! Ah, how she thrives on flattery. That woman, my friend, +beautiful as she is, has no more heart than a--” + +“Excuse me, please,” broke in his listener, in English. “I've got to +beat it.” + +He had caught sight of a slim young figure at the head of the stairs,--a +girl in a rumpled blue serge tailor-suit and a tan-coloured sport hat +pulled well down over her dark hair. He made his way through the crowd +and caught her up as she passed out on the deck. + +“I've been terribly worried about you,” he began without other greeting, +planting himself in front of her. “I thought maybe you might have--but, +thank the good Lord, you weren't.” + +She looked momentarily bewildered. Then she recognized him and held out +her hand. Her face was serious, unsmiling, her voice low and tired. + +“Isn't it dreadful, Mr. Percival? What a terrible experience it has +been. Oh--and I am glad you came through safely, too. But--” as her eyes +narrowed anxiously,-“you were hurt. Your hands?” + +“I can't very well shake hands with you, Miss Clinton,” said he. +“Scorched a little, that's all. You'd think it was serious, the way +they're bandaged. One of the sailors fixed them up for me last night. I +can't tell you how glad I am that you are all right. And your aunt? Is +she--” He paused. + +“Auntie is all right, Mr. Percival. She's in bed. Shock and exposure. We +were out there all night. In one of the boats. Katherine,--” her voice +shook a little,--“Katherine is gone. She leaped overboard. I--I saw her +go. I shall never forget it,--never. Aunt Julia's maid. For, oh, so +many years, Mr. Percival.” She spoke in sharp, broken sentences, as if +breathless. “You must have been terribly burned. Your hair,--your eyes, +how bloodshot they are.” + +“Smoke,” he said succinctly. “Singed on this side only. Really nothing +serious. I got off very lightly.” + +“Some of the men were frightfully burned,” she said with a shudder. “I +am trying to be a nurse. There are two men in my--in my--” + +“I know,” he broke in hastily. “Don't talk about it, Miss Clinton. It's +corking of you to take hold like this. Corking!” + +“Tell me about yourself. Where were you when it happened?”' + +“I hate to admit it, but I was having a bite to eat down in the galley. +You see, they'd somehow forgotten to give me anything to eat,--in the +excitement, of course,--and I had been so busy myself it didn't occur +to me to be hungry till rather late in the day. I managed to get on +deck but not until after the bombs had all gone off. My friend, Mr. +Gray,--the Chief Engineer, you know,--was down in the engine-room. +That's how I got my hands burned. Not badly, I assure you, but--well, +they may be a little scarred. You may not know it, but Mr. Gray and I +came from the same place. Baltimore. He belonged to a fine old family +there--and he'd been very kind to me. Poor fellow! Penned in. They never +had a chance down there. He was--well, he died a few minutes after he +was dragged out here on the deck. His clothes were on fire. But let's +not talk about it. Tell me, is there anything I can do to make you more +comfort-able? Or your aunt? I'm what you might call officer of the deck +at present. Mr. Mott--” + +“You ought to be in bed, Mr. Percival,” she interrupted sharply. “Your +face is burned, too,--you must be suffering terribly. Wait! Now don't +tell me you are not. I know better. I've seen those other men who were +burned. I--” + +“It's nothing, I tell you,” he interrupted, almost roughly. “There are +dozens of men worse off than I am, and are they in bed? Not much. This +is no time to lie down, Miss Clinton, if you've got a leg to stand on. +See that little chap over there with his head and hands covered with +bandages,--and barely able to drag his feet after him? He's an American +jockey. I don't know his name. He was blown twenty or thirty feet +across the after-deck. Brought up at the bottom of a companion-way. He's +nothing but cuts and bruises from head to foot. But he's around on his +wobbly little pins today, just the same, trying to edge in on some sort +of a job. Couldn't keep him in bed.” + +Miss Clinton's eyes were full of wonder and incredulity. “I cannot +understand it,” she said. “My cousin was with the American Ambulance in +France. He says that the slightest flesh wound sends a soldier to the +hospital.” + +“They haven't any choice in the matter. Besides, it isn't the same. Poor +devils, they may have been at it in the trenches for weeks and months. A +wound of any sort means a pleasant vacation. Still,” he went on after +a moment, a faint derisive smile on his lips, “we had a big husky up in +Camp who insisted on going to bed every time he had the nosebleed.” + +She was looking into his blood-shot eyes, infinite pity and concern in +her own. + +“Will you let me dress your hands, Mr. Percival, whenever it is +necessary? I am getting used to it now.” + +“It's good of you, Miss Clinton,” he replied gratefully. “But I think +you'd better stick to the fellows who really need attention. Don't add +an extra ounce to your burden. You'll need all of your strength and +courage to face the demands of the next few days. Those chaps have +just begun to suffer. They're going to have a tight squeeze getting +through,--if they get through at all. You have not answered my question. +Is there anything I can do for you or your aunt?” + +“No,--not a thing,” she said. “We are quite all right. As Mr. Mott said, +we are all in the same boat, Mr. Percival. We've got to make up our +minds to that. We can't have the comforts and the luxuries we had day +before yesterday. Whatever is left of them, we must share with others.” + +“Even with stowaways,” he ventured, but not fatuously. + +“No one is likely to forget how our only stowaway came by his wounds,” + she said simply. “Despite your modesty, I am quite certain who it was +that carried the Chief Engineer on deck, Mr. Percival. While his clothes +were burning, too.” + +Percival turned his face away and many seconds passed before he spoke. + +“By the way,” he said at last, a trifle unsteadily, “at regular +intervals the gun up there in the bow is to be fired. You must not be +alarmed when it goes off. There is a chance that some ship may hear the +report. The British have a few warships down here, you know. They would +investigate if they got word of big guns being fired anywhere in these +parts. Mr. Mott will give warning when the gun is to be fired, so that +every one will understand. I--I just thought I'd tell you.” + +“Thank you. Good-bye for the present. I must get back to my wounded.” + +“Keep your spirits up,” he said. “That's the principal job now, Miss +Clinton. Good-bye,--and thank you.” + +He watched her as she moved off down the deck. He could not help +noticing that her figure drooped perceptibly. In his mind's eye he saw +her as she was but two days before, straight, graceful, full of the joy +of living, with a stride that was free and swinging. He recalled her +lovely, inquiring grey eyes as she stared at him on that ignominious +afternoon, the parted red lips and the smile that came to them, +the smartly dressed hair, the jaunty hat, the trim sport suit of +tan-coloured jersey--he recalled the alluring picture she made that day, +and sadly shook his head. + +“Poor girl,” he said to himself, and walked slowly in the opposite +direction, favouring his left leg. + +He went down to see the Captain. The old seadog was stretched out in his +berth, a look of pain and utter despair in his eyes. One of the Russian +dancers, a rather pretty girl of a distinctly Slavic type, was cleaning +up the room. The ship's doctor had just left. + +“Feeling a bit more comfortable, sir?” inquired the young man. + +“I wish you'd get this girl out of here,” growled Captain Trigger with +difficulty. “I want to swear.” + +“I think it would be all right to go ahead with it, sir,” said Percival. +“She doesn't understand a word of English.” + +The Captain shook his head. “I'll let it wait.” Then, looking at his +visitor's bandaged hands: “How are your hands, my lad?” + +“Fairly easy. The doctor says the burns are not deep. Mr. Mott asked me +to step in and see you, sir, and give you my opinion as to the bombs. +You see, I've had a great deal of experience with high explosives. There +isn't the slightest doubt in my mind that you found and got rid of the +worst of them. The officer in charge of the gun-crew agrees with me. +They planted the big ones, the ones that were to destroy the ship, down +in the hold, where there was less chance of discovery. The others, I am +convinced, were much smaller. It would have been impossible to hide a +bomb of any noticeable size in any of the places where the explosions +occurred. They went about it very cunningly, very systematically. Of +course, no one saw the bombs that exploded, but judging by the actual +results, they could not have been very powerful.” + +“And I also,” said the Captain, “thank God we dug out the big ones.” + He scowled forlornly. “Dr. Cullen says I am in for a week of this, +Percival. You don't think so, do you?” + +Percival smiled. “I am more or less of an expert on explosives, sir,” he +replied. + +“Umph,” grunted Captain Trigger. “I see. Just the same, I think I'll be +up and about by tomorrow. If I were your age, young man, you can bet I +wouldn't be lying here in this bed.” + +“On the other hand, if I were your age, Captain Trigger,” said Percival, +“I'd probably have sense enough to do exactly what the doctor ordered.” + +Captain Trigger's mouth fell open. + +“Well, of all the damned--” he began, and then swallowed hard. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +For three days and nights the Doraine drifted lazily in a calm and +rippling sea, always to the southward. The days were bright and warm, +the nights black and chill. It was the spring of the year in that zone. +Without adequate navigation instruments, Mr. Mott was forced to rely to +a great extent on speculation. He was able to make certain calculations +with reasonable accuracy, but they were of little real significance. +It was, of course, possible to determine the general direction in which +they were drifting, and the speed. They were slowly but surely edging +into the strong west wind drift. The Falkland Islands would soon be off +to the right, with South Georgia and the Sandwich group farther to the +south and east, the southernmost tip of Africa to the left. + +Not a sail had been sighted, not a sign of smoke appeared on the +spotless horizon. At regular intervals the gun on the forward deck +boomed thrice in quick succession, startling the lifeless hulk into a +sort of spasmodic vitality. Then she would sink back once more into +the old, irksome lethargy, incapable of resisting the gentlest wave, +submissive to the whim of the slightest breeze. The ship's carpenter +and his men were making slow headway in the well-nigh impossible task of +repairing the rudder. Attempts were being made to rig up makeshift sails +to replace those licked from the supplemental spars by flames that had +earned considerable progress along the roof of the upper deck building +before they were subdued. Blackened, charred masts and yards, stripped +of rigging, reared themselves like pines at the edge of a fire-swept +forest. Sail-makers and riggers laboured stubbornly, but the work was +slow and the means of restoration limited. + +The occupants of the derelict had settled down to a dull, almost dogged +state of resignation. There were several deaths and burials, incidents +that made but little impression on the waiting, watchful survivors. Each +succeeding day brought forth additional watchers to swell the anxious +throng,--resolute and sometimes ungovernable men who, defying their +wounds and the nurses, refused to stay where they could not have a hand +in all that was going on. + +Back of all this pitiful courage, however, lurked the unholy fear that +they might be left to their fate in case the ship had to be hurriedly +abandoned. + +Mr. Mott watched the weather. Every seaman on board the Doraine scanned +the cloudless sky with searching, anxious eyes. They sniffed the steady +wind that blew them farther south. Always they scanned the sky and +sniffed the wind. + +“It's got to come sometime,” repeated Captain Trigger, after each report +from Mr. Mott. + +“I've known weather like this to last for weeks,” said the First +Officer. + +“In the South Pacific, yes,” said the Captain grimly. “But we're in the +South Atlantic, Mott.” + +On the sixth day the barometer began to fall. The breeze stiffened. +The sea became choppy, and white-caps danced fitfully over the greenish +stretches, growing wilder and wilder under the whip of a flouting wind. +The two patchwork sails on the lumbering Doraine flapped noisily for +awhile, as if shaking off their tor-por, then suddenly grew taut and +fat with prosperity. The twisted, half-jammed rudder,--far from worthy +despite the efforts of its repairers,--whiningly obeyed the man at +the wheel, and once more the ship felt the caress of the deep on her +cleaving bows. + +The horizon to the north and west seemed to draw nearer, the contrast +between the deepening blue of the water and the clear azure of the +contracting dome more sharply defined. The sky that had been cloudless +for days still remained barren, but the sailor knew what lay beyond the +clear-cut rim of the world. The man of the sea could look far beyond the +horizon. He could see the ugly clouds that were even now speeding down +from the north, invisible as yet but soon to creep into view; he could +see the mighty billows on the other side of that distant line; he could +hear the roar and shriek of the tempest that was still hundreds of +miles away. It was the matter of but a few hours before the wind and the +billows would rush up to smite the Doraine with all their might under +the cover of a black and storm-rent sky. And what was to become of the +vessel, floundering in the path of the hurricane? + +Late afternoon brought the forerunner of the gale, a whistling, howling +squall that frantically strove, it would seem, to outrace the baleful +clouds. Then the Doraine was in the thick of the furious revel of sea +and sky, plunging, leaping, rolling like a monstrous cork.... + +How she managed to weather the storm, God knows, and He alone. At the +mercy of wave and wind, she was tossed and hammered and racked for +two frightful days and nights, and yet she remained afloat, battered, +smashed, raked from stem to stern, stripped of everything the tempest +could wrench from her in its fury. And yet on the third day, when the +storm abated, the sturdy ship was still riding the waves, flayed but +un-conquered, and the baffled sea was licking the sides of her once more +with servile though deceitful tenderness. + +But there was water in the hold. The ship was leaking badly. + +Up from the stifling interior straggled the unhappy inmates. They looked +again upon the unbelievable: a smiling, dancing sea of blue under a +canopy clean and spotless. It was unbelievable. Even the stouthearted +Captain and the faithful mate, blear-eyed and haggard from loss of +sleep, were filled with wonder. + +“I can't understand it,” muttered Mr. Mott a dozen times that day, +shaking his head in a bewildered sort of way. “I can't understand how +she did it. By right, she ought to be at the bottom of the ocean, and +here she is on top of it, same as ever.” + +“Do you believe in God, Mr. Mott?” asked the Captain solemnly. + +“I do,” said Mr. Mott emphatically. After a moment he added: “I've been +a long time coming to it, Captain Trigger, but I do. Nothing short of an +Almighty Being could have steered this ship for the past two days.” + +The Captain nodded his head slowly, his gaze fixed on something above +and far beyond the horizon. + +“I suppose it's too much to ask of Him, though,” said he, audibly +completing a thought. + +Mr. Mott evidently had been thinking of the same thing, for he said: + +“I'm sorry to say it's gained about two feet on the pumps since last +night.” + +Captain Trigger's face was very grave. “That means a couple of days more +at the outside.” His eyes rested speculatively on the three lifeboats +still hanging above the starboard rail. There was another being repaired +on the port side. “More than six hundred of us on board, Andrew.” His +head dropped suddenly, his chin twitched. Mr. Mott looked away. + +“I don't believe it will come to that,” said he, an odd note of +confidence in his voice. “'Tain't likely, old friend, that God would see +us safely through all we've had to tackle and then desert us in the end. +Something's bound to turn up. I've a feeling,--a queer feeling,--that +we're going to pull out of this all right. I know it looks mighty +hopeless, but--” + +“Just the same, Mr. Mott,” broke in the Captain, lifting his head and +setting his jaw, “you'd better set all available hands to work on the +rafts immediately. It's true God has helped us through a lot, but it +strikes me we'd better be on the safe side and help God a little at +this stage of the game. He is wonderful, Andrew, but He isn't wonderful +enough to keep man afloat very long unless man himself builds the raft. +So don't lose a minute.” + +Anxious, inquiring eyes followed the Captain and his First Officer +wherever they went. On all sides were silent, beaten people who asked +no questions, for they were afraid of the answers. Sick, dazed, haggard, +they stared hopelessly, drearily out over the water; for all that their +faces revealed the end was near at hand and they cared but little. They +had been through one hell; death could bring nothing worse. + +Here and there a stout-hearted optimist appeared among them, but his +very cheerfulness seemed to offend. They did not want to hear his silly, +stupid predictions that something was “sure to turn up.” They knew +that water was coming into the hold; they knew that there were but four +lifeboats and seven hundred men and women; they knew that the Doraine +was going down in a very few hours; they knew that the Captain had given +up all hope of rescue. Nothing could “turn up” now but death. + +Madame Obosky had taken a great fancy to Algernon Adonis Percival, and +for a most peculiar reason. He had, it appears, abused her roundly +on the first night of the storm for venturing on deck against orders, +compelling him to risk what he considered a very precious life in a +successful effort to drag her back to safety. As a matter of fact, +he did not drag her back to safety. That feat was accomplished by two +sailors who managed to reach both of them before another devastating +wave came up to tear his grip loose from the broken rail to which he +clung with one bandaged hand while he kept her from sliding into the sea +with the other. + +He was very angry. In the first place, his hands hurt him dreadfully, +and in the second place she had forced him to disobey orders by going +out to save her. He did not mutter his complaints. He told her in plain +and violent English what he thought of her, and if she went out there +again he'd be damned happy to let her drown. + +Now, it had been some time since any man had had the hardihood or +temerity to upbraid Madame Obosky. No male had cursed her since she +left Petrograd,--and that was four years ago. She had been cursed often +enough by her own sex,--professionally, of course,--but the men she +had encountered since leaving Russia were either too chivalrous or too +cowardly to abuse her, and she missed it terribly. + +She had gone through a very hard school in order to become one of the +principal dancers in her land. Teachers had cursed her, teachers had +beaten her,--and they always were men. + +When she was eighteen she married a lion-tamer. Who would have thought +that a man who trained lions could be gentle and mild, and as tame as +the beasts he had beaten for years? She was barely nineteen when he +died, quite suddenly. There was a dark rumour that she had poisoned him. +True or false, the rumour persisted, and she soon became one of the most +popular dancers in the Empire. For three years she had a manager who +treated her so vilely, so contemptuously that she tried to kill his +wife, whereupon the unnatural husband refused to have anything more to +do with her. + +She was dancing in Germany when the War broke out, but succeeded in +getting over into Holland within a week or two, thereby escaping what +she was pleased to describe as “something zat no woman could endure, no +matter how long she have live' in Russia.” Paris and London had treated +her kindly, courteously, but that was to be expected, she repined, +because all of the real men were off at the front fighting. Instead of +being scowled at and ordered about by managers and orchestra leaders, or +brow-beaten by hotel-clerks and head-waiters, she met with nothing +but the most servile politeness,--due, she was prone to argue, to the +unquestioned decadence of the French and English races. They were a +bloodless lot, those Frenchmen and Englishmen. + +It was the same in Rio Janeiro, Buenos Aires and Santiago,--and it would +be even worse in New York, Chicago and San Francisco. The Americans, she +had heard, were the worst of them all. They didn't know the first thing +about the majesty of sex. The Indian, she understood, was an exception. +From all accounts, he knew how to treat his woman. + +She was homesick. Her heart leaped with joy when she discovered in +Percival what she believed to be a domineering, masterful man. He had +been neither servile, nor polite, nor afraid. He had treated her,--at +least for an illuminating, transcendent ten minutes,--as if she were +the dirt under his feet,--and he was an American at that. True, he had +apologized a little later on, and had blushed quite becomingly in doing +so, but nothing,--nothing in the world,--would ever make her believe +that he was not the sort of man who could be depended upon to put a +woman in her place and keep her there. He might apologize until he was +black in the face and still be unable to take back the words he had +uttered. Notwithstanding that he, in his apology, professed to have +mistaken her in the darkness for one of the Portuguese immigrant women +who didn't understand a word of English, she forgave him quite humbly, +and that was going pretty far for Olga Obosky, whose identity ought not +to have been a matter of doubt, even on the darkest of nights. + +She was a lithe, perfectly formed young woman, beautiful in an unusual +way. Her body was as sinuous as that of a woodland nymph. Indeed, in +one of her most spectacular dances, she appeared as a nymph, barefooted, +bare-legged, and,--as Mrs. Spofford caustically remarked,--bare-faced. +She possessed the marvellously clear, colourless complexion found only +among the purely Slavic women. Her lips were red and sensuous, her eyes +darkly mysterious and brooding, her hair as black as the raven's wing. + +When she smiled her face became strikingly alive, radiant, transforming +her into a jolly, good-natured, wholesome girl in whom not the faintest +trace of the carnal was left. Every move, every thought, every impulse +was feminine; her imagination was feminine; she cast the spell of her +femininity over all with whom she came in contact. Primitively sensuous, +she was also primitively wary,--and so she was ineffably feminine. + +Prior to the time of her dramatic encounter with the American, she had +favoured him with no more than a glance or two of curiosity. He was a +stowaway; for a brief while he was suspected of being involved in the +plot to blow up the ship. That was enough for her. Twice she had seen +Miss Clinton talking with him, and once, just before the storm set in, +she had paused to watch the young American girl renew the bandages on +his hands after dressing the burns. Half an hour after he had apologized +for speaking so roughly to her, she decided that it was her duty to hunt +him up and minister to him. The ship was rolling terribly, the din of +the elements was deafening, but Olga Obosky was not a faint-hearted +person. She went forth boldly, confidently. Terrified, clinging +observers marvelled at her sure-footedness, at the graceful way in which +her sinuous body bent itself to the perilous heavings of the vessel. + +She found him in the reading-room, seated in a corner. Miss Clinton was +readjusting the bandage on one of his hands. Half a dozen people were +in the room, manfully defying the turmoil that had sent nearly every one +else to bed in terror and distress. Without hesitation the dancer joined +the couple in the corner. Her smile was engaging; a faint line between +her eyebrows signified the concern she felt for him. + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +Miss Clinton looked up from her work. Her smile was politely +accusative,--and brief. + +“It is all my fault,” began Madame Obosky, standing before them, her +feet wide apart, her knees bent slightly to meet the varying slants and +lurches of the vessel. She spoke the English language confidently and +well. Her accent, which was scarcely noticeable, betrayed the fact that +she had mastered French long before attempting English. There was +a piquant boldness in the occasional misplacing of words and in the +haphazard construction of sentences. She was unafraid. + +“I have subject him to much pain and discomfort,” she went on, +addressing the girl. “Those poor hand! It is I who should kiss them, +Mademoiselle, not you.” + +“Kiss them?” gasped Miss Clinton. + +“Of no doubt,” said Madame Obosky readily. “Do they not pain because of +me? Should I not kiss the hand who snatch me from the horrible death? +From the Kingdom Come, as the doctor he say to me such a little time +ago. And you, Mademoiselle, who have not been save by him from +the Kingdom Come, you attend his hands and make him to be greatly +comfortable.” + +“I am merely dressing the burns, Madame Obosky,” said the other, coldly. +“I have done as much for the other poor fellows who--” + +“I know, I know,” broke in the Russian, smiling. “You must not be offend +with me if I speak your language so badly.” + +“It strikes me you speak it most acceptably,” interposed Percival. + +“What is your name?” she asked abruptly. “I have heard you called the +stowaway. No one has speak your name to me.” + +“My name is Percival,” said he. + +“It is a pretty name,” said she, dubiously. “But surely you do not +approve of me to call you Percival so quick. What is the other name, the +name I am to--” + +“That's the trouble with a name like mine. It sounds so beastly informal +when you leave off the Mister, and it sounds as if you'd been a servant +in the family for at least one generation if you stick it on. If you +could only call me Monsieur Percival, or Senor Percival, or even Herr +Percival, it wouldn't seem so bad, but Mister Percival,--well, it's +pretty soft, isn't it, Miss Clinton?” + +“Please hold your hand still, Mr. Percival,” ordered the girl. She +smiled up at the puzzled dancer. “His name is Mr. Percival, Madame +Obosky. That's the poor creature's last name.” + +“Oh, I see. Then even you, Mademoiselle, may not call him Percival?” + +“No, I do not call him Percival.” + +“You see, she's known me such a very short time,” explained the subject +of these remarks. + +For a few moments Madame Obosky watched the bandaging process in +silence. When she spoke again it was to say: + +“You are so skilful, so gentle, Mademoiselle. I am taking a lesson in +gentleness from you.” + +“It is quite simple, Madame. I am very awkward. I have had no +experience. But if we ever live to see home again, I shall prepare +myself at once for work in France. We are needed over there. We will be +needed more than ever, now that America has gone in. Our own soldiers +are over there, God bless them.” + +Madame Obosky gave her a pitying look. + +“You may thank your God that you do not live in a land of soldiers, +Mademoiselle. If you did, you would not be so eager to nurse them back +to life. Do I shock you? Voila! When you train a boy to be a soldier, as +the boys are trained in my country and in Germany, you make an animal of +him,--and not a very nice animal at that. You nurse him back to life and +strength and in return for your kindness he outrages you, and goes his +way rejoicing. No, I do not like the soldiers.” + +Miss Clinton did not look up. Percival stared at the Russian for a +moment and then observed: + +“I don't think you can say that of the French or the English, Madame.” + +She shrugged her shoulders. “Quite true. But the French and the English, +Mr. Percival, are decadent races,” she said coolly, as if there were +nothing more to be said on the subject. “Please, Mademoiselle,” she went +on, briskly, “will you not let me see how you have prepared his hands? I +mean, how have you,--is it right to say fixed them?” + +“Dressed them, you mean, Madame Obosky.” + +“I see. First you undress them, then you dress them, is it not so?” + +Ruth Clinton laughed. The woman was quaint. + +“I am about to begin on the left hand. You may watch me, if you care to +do so.” + +“Will it not make you embarrass?” + +“Why should I be embarrassed?” inquired Ruth, flushing. + +“I have said the wrong word,” lamented the other. “Nervous,--zat,--that +is the word.” + +“They're not very lovely things to look at,” said Percival. “All red and +blistery and greasy. Miss Clinton is a regular heroine to tackle 'em.” + +“I have witnessed some very terrible sights, Mr. Percival,” said +the Russian, her eyes narrowing. “Have you ever seen a little Jewish +girl,--but no, Mademoiselle, no! I have catch the look in your eyes. I +shall not tell you what I have seen. Go on! I shall be silent and take +my first lesson.” + +Closely, intently she watched the process. When it was all over and the +bottle containing ointment had been restored to the patient's pocket, +she spread out her hands and exclaimed: + +“It is not difficult. May I inquire where the gauze bandages are to be +obtained, Miss Clinton? And do you always use the same safety pins?” + +She arose early the next morning. Rousing her maid, she ordered her to +apply to the ship's surgeon for bandages and to fetch them to her at +once. + +“I know,--yes, I know. You are dying, but do as I tell you. This +instant! Why should you, a great hulking beast of a woman, be dying +every minute of the day while I, not half your size, am tingling all +over with life? Go!” + +“But, Madame,” groaned the wretched woman, rolling her eyes, “I shall +be dashed to pieces against the walls. I cannot stand. My legs will not +hold me up. They--” + +“Enough! That is no excuse. My legs manage to hold me up.” + +“But, Madame, it is my legs I am speaking of. My legs are not like +yours.” + +“Any fool can see that,” retorted her mistress, and the ungainly maid +staggered out on her mission. + +Later on, supplied with a roll of gauze, Madame Obosky set out in quest +of her preserver. Even the veterans among the seamen gazed upon her +in wondering admiration as she made her way about the ship. She was a +revelation to them. The increasing fury of the storm had driven all save +the hardiest sailors and a few of the non-praying male passengers to +their rooms. Now and then one or two of the courageous, devoted nurses +appeared in the corridors, reeling from patient to patient, but except +for them the ship seemed entirely bereft of women. Small wonder then +that the lithe, undaunted Russian created a sensation among the sailors +who themselves were cold with dread. + +She discovered him at last, coming up the steps from the devastated +engine room. He was with Mr. Mott and several other half-dressed men. +Their faces were grave,--more serious than ever. They had been down to +investigate the leak. Percival was stripped to the waist. The glare of +the lanterns fell upon his broad shoulders and powerful arms, bronzed +and burnished by the sun of the high hills. + +“Come,” she said, laying her hand on one of his brawny arms, “I have +with me the bandages.” She sent a swift glance over him, and smiled. +“But I see you have not the bottle. Is it in your cabin, Mr. Percivail?” + +He flushed darkly under his coat of tan. His companions stared for a +moment, and then went on. + +“I am busy,” he said. “I haven't the time now, Madame Obosky. Thank you, +just the same.” Then a sense of loyalty to the girl who had been kind to +him impelled him to add: “Besides, Miss Clinton has been taking care of +my hands. She has got used to dressing them, so I--” + +“But it is my duty now,” she protested. “She owes so little to you and I +so much. Come, let us procure the lotion. Where is your cabin?” + +He held back. “You can't go to my cabin.” + +“And why not?” she exclaimed, in surprise. “Does not Miss Clinton go to +your cabin?” + +“No, she does not!” + +“But she goes to the cabins of other men who are wounded. I have see her +with my own eyes.” + +“That's different. They can't come to her.” + +She looked searchingly into his eyes. + +“I see,” she said after a moment. “You are in love with her.” + +“Ridiculous,” he exclaimed, scowling. + +“And so you prefer to have her fix your hands. I see, my friend. Voila! +If so is the case, I am outcast.” + +“But, confound it, it isn't the case,” he cried. “It's simply this: I +wouldn't for the world have her feel that I am not grateful, and that's +exactly what it would look like if I allowed you or any one else to butt +in, Madame Obosky.” + +“Butt in?” she said, a puzzled look in her dark eyes. “What is that?” + +“It's English for interfere,” said he, shortly. + +She removed her hand from his arm. He was conscious of the abrupt +termination of an exquisite thrill. + +“Very well,” she said, lifting her chin. “I shall not interfere.” + +“Forgive me, please,” he said. “It's mighty good of you. Please don't +think me ungracious. You understand, however,--don't you?” + +“No, I do not,” she replied, shaking her head slowly. Suddenly her eyes +widened. “Is it because I dance in my bare feet, in my bare legs, that +you think so vilely of me?” + +He stared. “Good Lord! I don't think vilely of you, Madame Obosky. I +wasn't even aware that you danced in your bare feet and legs.” + +“You have never seen Obosky dance?” she cried in astonishment. + +“Never.” + +She frowned. “Then, my friend, I was wrong in what I say just now. Most +men who have seen me dance think I am a bad woman, and so they either +covet me or despise me. If you have not had ze pleasure of seeing me, +Mr. Percivail, you do not either covet me or despise me. That is fine. +It is good to know that you do not despise me.” Observing the expression +in his eyes, she went on calmly. “Oh, yes, I shall be very much please +to have you covet me. Zat--that is all right. But if you despise +me,--no, no, zat would be terrible.” + +For a moment he was dashed. He did not know how to take her remark. She +was a new, a strange type to him. After a sharp, quick look into +her eyes, however, he came to the conclusion that she was absolutely +sincere. So far as she was concerned, it was as if she had said nothing +more outrageous than: “I shall be please to consider you one of my +admirers.” + +“My dear Madame,” he said, smiling, “permit me to express the hope that +both of us may go on to the end of our days without having our peace of +mind disturbed.” + +She looked puzzled for a moment, and then favoured him with her broad, +good-natured smile. + +WEST WIND DRIFT 85 + +“Spoken like a Frenchman,” she cried, and added, “and with equal +sincerity, I fear. Go your way, Monsieur Percivail. I shall keep my +gauze. Some day when we are very old people and very old friends I may +then be permitted to bandage your hands. At present, however, the risk +is too great, eh? I am so inexperience. I might by accident tie your +hands in my clumsiness, and zat--that would make so much trouble for +Miss Clinton to untie zem,--yes?” + +Now there was mockery in her eyes. His face hardened. + +“I must be on my way,” he said curtly. “We have been looking things over +down below. The Captain is waiting for our report.” + +He bowed and started off. She swung along at his side. + +“What have you discover, Mr. Percivail?” she inquired anxiously. + +“That, Madame Obosky, is something that will have to come from Captain +Trigger.” + +“I see. That means it is bad. I see.” + +The lurching of the ship threw her body against his. She righted herself +promptly, but did not reveal the slightest confusion nor utter a word of +apology. + +“By Jove, you're a cool one!” he exclaimed. “I don't believe you know +the meaning of fear. Don't you realize, Madame Obosky, that we are in +the gravest peril? Don't you know this ship has but one chance in a +thousand to pull through?” + +“Ah, my friend, but it has the one chance, has it not? Surely I know the +meaning of fear. I am afraid of rats and snakes and thieves--and drunken +soldiers. I am afraid of death,--terribly afraid of death. Oh, yes, I +know what fear is, Mr. Percivail.” + +“Then, why don't you show it now?” he cried. “Good Lord, I don't mind +confessing that I'm scared half to death. I don't want to die like +this,--like a rat in a trap.” + +“But you are not going to die,” she proclaimed. “I too would be groaning +and praying in my bed if I thought we were going down to the bottom of +zis dreadful ocean. But we are not. I have no fear. We shall come out +all right on top, and some day we will laugh and tell funny stories +about how everybody else was frightened but us,--us apiece, I mean.” + +“Well, you're a wonder! And how the deuce do you manage to keep your +feet with the ship rolling like this?” + +“Two things I have been taught, since I am ten years old. First, to keep +my head, and second to keep my feet. In my profession, one must do both. +You will always find me doing that. Good-bye,--we part here. You will +not forget zat--that I have retain the bandage for you? And you will not +ever despise me?” + +As she turned away a roll that must have caused the wallowing vessel to +list thirty-five degrees at the very least, sent her headlong across the +passage. She slipped down in a heap. The same lurch had sent him reeling +against the wall some distance away. She sat up but did not at once +attempt to arise. Instead she clutched frantically at her skirt to draw +it down over her shapely ankles and calves. In the lantern light he +saw the dismayed, shamed look in her eyes and the vivid blush of +embarrassment that suffused her pale cheeks. As the ship rolled back, +he moved forward to assist her, but she sprang lightly to her feet and +hurried on ahead of him, disappearing around a corner. + +“Well, by gosh!” he muttered aloud in his surprise. “And she dances half +naked before thousands of people every night! Can you beat it! The last +person in the world you'd think would care a whoop, and she turns out +to be as finicky about her legs as your grandmother. Women certainly are +queer.” + +With this profound comment on the inconsistency of the sex, he took +himself off in the direction of the Captain's quarters,--a forward cabin +which served in lieu of the dismantled bridge. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +He saw but little of her during the next forty-eight hours. She +seemed to avoid him. At any other time and in other circumstances he +undoubtedly would have resented her indifference,--a very common and +natural masculine failing,--but in these strenuous hours he was too +fully occupied with the affairs of life and death. Once she stopped him +to inquire if Miss Clinton was still able to dress his wounds. + +“Once a day,” he replied. “She's even pluckier than you are, Madame +Obosky.” + +Her eyes narrowed. “Indeed?” + +“Yes, because she believes we are going to die--every one of us. It +takes pluck to keep going when you've got that sort of thing to face, +doesn't it?” + +Her gesture took in the dozen or more men within range of her vision. +“It should take no more pluck to keep a woman going than a man, my +friend. You do not call yourself plucky, do you? I do not call myself +plucky. On the contrary, I call myself a coward. I am afraid to stay in +my stateroom. I like to be out in the open like zis. One has to be very, +very brave, Mr. Percivail, to lie in one's bed all alone and think that +death is waiting just outside the thin little walls. Miss Clinton is +splendid, but she is not plucky. She is as I am: afraid of the darkness, +afraid to be alone, afraid to be where she cannot know and see all zat +is happening. She has a woman's courage, just as I have it,--if you +please. It is the courage that depends so much on the courage of others. +You think I am brave. I am brave because I am with trained, efficient +men. But if the Captain were to come to me now as I stand here, and say +zat the ship is to sink in ten minutes and that we all must go down with +her, would I face it bravely? No! I would throw myself down on the floor +and scream and pray and tear my hair. Why? Because the men had given up. +I am kept up by the courage of others. That is the courage of woman. She +must be supported in her pain, in her suffering, in her courage.” + +“Well, if you put it that way, there are very few men who would take +such an announcement from the Captain calmly.” + +“Perhaps not, my friend. But if there were room for but few in the +boats, who would stay behind and go down with the ship? Nine out of +every ten of the men. Why? Not because they are all courageous, I grant +you, but because of the horrible conceit that makes them our masters. +Pride and conceit constitute what stands for courage in most men. The +wild animal has no conceit, he has no pride. Does the male lion rush out +to be shot in place of his mate? He do not. He sneaks off in the high +reeds and leaves her to take care of herself. The Captain of this +steamer is so full of pride zat he will stay on it till it goes under +the wave. It is not courage, Mr. Percivail. It is his pride in the +power zat--that God has give to his sex. These men here,--you, my +friend,--face the danger now so unflinching for why? Because for ages +and ages you have believe in and depend upon the man beside you, the men +around you. Zat is the difference between man and woman. Woman believes +in and depends on man. She has no faith in her own sex. So, you see, my +friend, when I say I am brave and you say Miss Clinton is plucky, it is +all because we have men about us who are so proud and conceited zat they +will die before they will admit that they are not as helpless and as +weak as we are in times like zis.” + +“You may be right,” he mused, struck by her argument. “It's usually +pride that makes a man stand up and fight another, even when he knows +he's sure to be beaten. It's neither confidence nor courage. It's just +plain fear of being a coward.” + +“You will admit then that I understand the wonderful male animal which +struts on two legs and rules all the other animals of the world, eh? +It is the only animal in the whole big world zat--that is completely +satisfied with itself. So now, Mr. Percivail, you have the secret of the +so-called courage of the male of our species.” + +“I hope all women haven't gone into the subject so deeply,” he said, +with a rueful smile. “You make rather small potatoes of us.” + +“Ah, do not say that,” she cried, “for, alas, I am denied potatoes.” + +“Well, then,” he said, laughing, “if all women understood us as well as +you do, we wouldn't rule the world very much longer. They'd yank us off +the pedestal and revile us forevermore.” + +“But you do not understand women, my friend. Did we not bring you into +the world? Are you not our sons, and therefore begotten to be kings? We +may despise our husbands, we may loathe our brothers and our fathers, +we women, but our sons are the gods we worship. My dear Mr. Percivail, +women will go on being ruled to the end of time unless they cease +populating the world with sons. The mother of the man is the humblest +subject of the son and yet the proudest. The mothers of kings, of +emperors, of presidents,--do they think of them as kings, emperors, +presidents? No. They think of them as sons. That is why man is supreme. +That is why he rules. To be sure, we women are not always disposed to +have our husbands rule, we even go so far as to say they are not fit +to rule, but alas, the men we are permitted to know the best of all +are always the sons of some one else, and so there you have the endless +chain. Sons! Sons! Sons! Sons to create new sons,--sons without end, +amen! God bless our sons!” + +“And I say God bless our mothers!” + +“In that one little sentence, Mr. Percivail, spoke from the heart, +you have reveal the secret history of the world. You have account for +everything.” + +“You are a million years old, Madame Obosky,” he said, looking into her +deep, unfathomable eyes. + +She smiled. “So? And which of my sons, Mr. Percivail, do you think I +love the most? Cain or Abel?” + +“It would take a woman to answer that question. There's one thing +certain, however. You loved both of them more than you loved Adam.” + +“True. But I followed Adam out of the Garden of Eden and I have never +left his heels from zat day to this. What more could any man ask?” + +On the second morning after the storm, the lookout fixed his straining +eyes on a far-distant, shadowy line that had not been a part of the +boundless horizon the day before. Dawn was breaking, night was lifting +her sheet from the new-born day. He waited. He could not be sure. +Minutes that seemed like hours passed. Then suddenly his hoarse shout +rose out of the silence: + +“Land ho!” + +Down into the heart of the ship boomed the cry, taken from the lookout's +lips by one after another of the weary men below. The sweating, +exhausted toilers who manned the pumps paused for a moment, then fell +to work again revitalized. Out from the cabins, up from every nook and +corner of the ship scrambled the excited horde, fully dressed, their +faces haggard with doubt, their eyes aglow with joy. Land! In every +round little window gleamed a face,--for a moment only along the +portside. Nothing but the same endless ocean on the port side of the +ship. Water! Sick and wounded drew themselves up to the portholes and +peered out from their cells for the first time. + +“Where?... Where?” ran the wild, eager cry of the scurrying throng, and +there was disappointment--bitter disappointment in their voices. They +had been tricked. There was no land in sight! The glasses of the ship's +officers, clustered far forward, were directed toward some point off the +starboard bow, but if there was land over there it was not visible to +the naked eye. A junior engineer saluted Captain Trigger and left the +group. + +“There is land ahead,--a long way off,” he announced as he passed +through the throng in the saloon deck. + +Up above the clamour of questions shouted from all sides as the crazed +people flocked behind the messenger of hope, rose the voice of Morris +Shine. + +“Land ahoy! Ahoy-yoy-yoy!” he yelled over and over again, his chin +raised like that of a dog baying at the moon. + +Every person on deck was either carrying a life-belt or was already +encased in one. Grim orders of the night just past. Here and there were +to be seen men who clutched tightly the handles of suitcases and kit +bags! Evidently they were expecting to step ashore at once. In any case, +they belonged to the class of people who never fail to crowd their +way down the gang-plank ahead of every one else. The fashionable ocean +liners always have quite a number of these on board, invariably in the +first cabin. + +Percival ranged the decks in quest of Ruth Clinton. She was well aft on +the boat deck, where the rail was not so crowded as it was forward. +Her arm was about the drooping, pathetic figure of her aunt. They were +staring intently out over the water,--the girl's figure erect, vibrant, +alive with the spirit of youth, her companion's sagging under the doubt +and scepticism of age. He hesitated a moment before accosting them. +Nicklestick, the Jew, was excitedly retailing the news to them. He went +so far as to declare that he could see land quite clearly,--and so could +they if they would only look exactly where he was pointing. He claimed +to have been one of the very first men on board to see the land. + +Ruth was hatless. Her braided brown hair had been coiled so hastily, so +thoughtlessly that stray strands fell loose about her neck and ears to +be blown gaily by the breeze across her cheek. Her blouse was open at +the neck, her blue serge jacket flared in the wind. Every vestige of the +warm, soft colour had left her face. She was deathly pale with emotion. + +Percival was suddenly conscious of a mist bedimming his eyes. + +Several people were grouped near them at the rail, listening to +Nicklestick. The stowaway joined them. As if sensing his presence, Ruth +turned suddenly and saw him. + +“Oh!” she cried, tremulously. “Have--have you seen it, Mr. Percival?” + +“No,” he replied. “It won't be visible for an hour or so longer. It's +off there all right, though. The lookout, Captain Trigger and several +others got a glimpse of it before the sun began to pull the mist up +to obscure it for a little while. That's mist over there,” he went on, +turning to Nicklestick. “You couldn't see the Andes Mountains if they +were where that strip of land is hidden. It won't be long, Miss Clinton, +before we all can see it.” + +“How far away is it?” she asked, controlling her voice with an effort. +“Do they know? Can they estimate?” + +“I'll tell you what let's do,” he said abruptly. “Let's go up on the sun +deck. I've got Mr. Gray's glasses. We can see better up there. Let me +assist you, Mrs. Spofford. The sun deck is pretty badly smashed up and +littered with all sorts of wreckage, but we can manage it all right.” + +Mrs. Spofford looked at him intently for a moment. + +“I remember you now,” she said. “Are you sure,--are you positive there +is land over there?” + +“I have Captain Trigger's word for it.” + +“And mine, too,” added Mr. Nicklestick. “You may rest assured, Mrs. +Spofford, that we will all be on dry land before many hours.” + +Percival leaned close to the speaker and said in a very low but emphatic +tone: + +“You don't know a damn thing about it, so keep your trap closed. If +you're a man, you won't go on raising false hopes in the breasts of +these women.” + +Nicklestick's jaw fell. He whispered: + +“My God,--ain't we--you don't mean to say there is a chance we won't be +able to--” + +But Percival had turned away with the two women. Mrs. Spofford took his +arm, leaning heavily against him. Her figure had straightened, however. +He had given her the needed confidence. + +They made their way up the steps leading to the topmost deck. Others had +already preceded them. A dozen men and women were looking out over +the sea through their binoculars. They recognized Landover, Madame +Careni-Amori (clutching her jewel case), Joseppi, Fitts and one or two +more. Olga Obosky was well forward, seated on the edge of a partially +wrecked skylight and ventilator. Her three dancing girls were with her, +closely grouped. + +Percival purposely remained near the steps. He knew full well that the +ship's hours were numbered. It was only a question of time when she +would founder. In the lee of one of the big stacks they huddled close +together and waited for the lifting of the veil. The wind was soft but +strong up there at the top of the vessel. He took hope in the fact that +it was blowing toward the shores of that unseen land, and that slowly +but surely the Doraine was drifting thither. + +Suddenly, as if a curtain were being raised, a far-off line appeared on +the surface of the waters. Higher rose the curtain, and like magic the +line developed into an irregular ridge, the ends of which sank below the +horizon far to the right and left. + +Percival felt the girl's hand on his arm. He shot a swift glance at her +face. It was turned away. She staring at the mystic panorama that was +being unveiled off there on the rim of the world. Her eyes were bright, +her lips were parted in the ecstasy of hope revived, she was breathing +deeply. The pulse in her smooth white neck was beating rapidly, +rythmically. He could see it. He laid his bandaged hand firmly upon hers +and pressed it tightly to his arm. She did not look around. Her every +thought was centred upon the unfolding vision. + +“There are trees,” she murmured, enthralled. “Trees,--and hills! See, +Auntie,--but oh, how far away they are!” + +For many minutes they stood there without speaking. Then from all sides +came the clamour of voices,--shouts of joy, cheers,--laughter! She +looked down at the clumsy object that imprisoned her hand, then swiftly +up into his eyes. A warm flush spread over her face. + +“I--I couldn't help it,” he muttered. “It--it looked so helpless.” + +“It isn't half as helpless as yours, Mr. Percival,” she said, and +smiled. She waited a moment before withdrawing her hand. “May I have the +glasses, please? Had you forgotten them?” + +“Completely,” he replied. + +Later, while Mrs. Spofford was peering through the glasses, she drew him +aside. + +“Tell me about the water in the hold,” she said in a low tone. “Is it +serious?” + +He looked grave. “Very. If you will take a peep over the side of the +ship, you'll see how low down she is in the water.” + +“My aunt doesn't know the ship is leaking,” she went on, hurriedly. “I +want to keep it from her as long as possible.” He nodded his head. + +“Mr. Mott figures we'll stay afloat for ten or twelve hours,--maybe +longer. I will see to it that you and Mrs. Spofford get into one of the +boats in case we--well, just in case, you know. We will be given ample +warning, Miss Clinton. Things don't look as hopeless as they did last +night.” He pointed toward the land. “It looks like heaven, doesn't it?” + +Her face clouded. “But only a very few of us may--” she stopped, +shuddering. + +“You poor little girl!” he cried brokenly. He steadied himself and went +on: “It wouldn't surprise me in the least if every blessed one of us got +safely ashore.” + +“You do not believe that, Mr. Percival. I can tell by the look in your +eyes. I want you to promise me one thing. If we have to take to the +boats, you will come with us--” + +He drew himself up. “My dear Miss Clinton, there is quite a difference +between being a stowaway on an ocean liner and being one in a lifeboat. +I have no standing on this ship. I have no right in one of her boats. I +am the very last person on board to be considered.” + +She looked searchingly into his eyes, her own wide with comprehension. +“You mean you will make no effort to leave the ship until every one else +is--” + +He checked her with a gesture of his hand. “I may be one of the first to +leave. But I'll not rob any one else of his place in a boat or his space +on one of those rafts. I'll swim for it.” + +Slowly the land crept down upon the Doraine. The illusion was startling. +The ship seemed to be lying absolutely motionless; it was the land that +approached instead of the other way round. A thin white beach suddenly +emerged from the green background to the left, to the right an ugly mass +of rocks took shape, stretching as far as the eye could reach. Farther +inland rose high, tree covered hills, green as emeralds in the blazing +sunlight. On a sea of turquoise lolled the listless Doraine. + +Soundings were taken from time to time. Even the bottom of the ocean was +coming up to meet the Doraine. Its depth appreciably lessened with each +successive measurement. From fifty fathoms it had decreased to ten since +the first line was dropped. + +At four o'clock, Captain Trigger ordered a boat lowered and manned by a +picked crew in charge of the Second Engineer. The Doraine was about +five miles off shore at the time, and was drifting with a noticeably +increased speed directly toward the rock-bound coast. He had hoped she +would go aground in the shallow waters off the sandy beach, but there +was now no chance that such a piece of good fortune was in store for +her. She was going straight for the huge black rocks. + +The boat's crew rowed in for observations. Even before they returned to +report, the anxious officers on board the vessel had made out a narrow +fissure in the rocky coast line. They assumed that it was the mouth of +a small river. The Second Engineer brought back the astonishing +information that this opening in the coast was the gateway to a channel +that in his judgment split the island into two distinct sections. That +it was not the mouth of a river was made clear by the presence of a +current so strong that his men had to exert themselves to the utmost to +prevent the boat being literally sucked into the channel by the powerful +tide, which apparently was at its full. This opening,--the water rushed +into it so swiftly that he was satisfied it developed into a gorge +farther back from the coast,--was approximately two hundred yards wide, +flanked on either side by low lying, formidable bastions of rock. The +water was not more than fifty feet deep off the entrance to the channel. + +Gradually the prow of the Doraine swung around and pointed straight for +the cleft in the shore. The ship, two miles out, had responded to +the insidious pressure of the current and was being drawn toward the +rocks,--at first so slowly that there was scarcely a ripple off her +bows; then, as she lumbered onward, she began to turn over the water as +a ploughshare turns over the land. + +At precisely six o'clock she slid between the rocky portals and entered +a canal so straight and true that it might have been drilled and blasted +out of the earth under the direction of the most skilful engineers in +the world. + +Soundings were hastily taken. Discovering that the water was not deep +enough even at high tide to submerge the vessel when the inevitable came +to pass and she sank to the bottom, Captain Trigger renewed his efforts +to release the anchor chains, which had been caught and jammed in the +wreckage. He realized the vital necessity for checking the Doraine in +her flight before she accomplished the miracle of passing unhindered +through the channel and out into the open sea beyond. The swiftness of +the current indicated plainly enough that this natural canal was of no +great length. + +The ship slid on between the tree lined banks. The trees were of the +temperate zone, with spreading limbs, thick foliage and hardy trunks. +There were no palms visible, but in the rarely occurring open spaces +a large shrub abounded. This was instantly recognized by Percival, who +proclaimed it to be the algaroba, a plant commonly found on the Gran +Chaco in Argentina. While the woodland was thick there was nothing about +it to suggest the tropical jungle with its impenetrable fastnesses. + +The keel of the half-sunken Doraine was scraping ominously on the bed +of the channel. She shivered and swerved from frequent contact with +submerged rocks, but held her course with uncanny steadiness, while +every soul on board gazed with stark, despairing eyes at the land which +mocked them as they passed. Far on ahead loomed the lofty hills, and +beyond them lay--What? The ocean? + +Gradually the passage widened. Its depth also increased. The ship no +longer scraped the bottom, she no longer caromed off the sunken rocks. +On the other hand, water poured into her interior with increasing force +and volume, indicating a disastrous rent forward. She was sloshing along +toward the centre of a basin which appeared to be half a mile wide and +not more than a mile long. Directly ahead of her the hills came down +to meet the water. A dark narrow cut, with towering sides, indicated an +outlet for the tiny, inland sea. This gorge, toward which the Doraine +was being resistlessly drawn, appeared to be but little wider than the +ship itself. + +Almost in the shadow of the hills, and within a dozen ship-lengths of +the sinister opening, the worn, exhausted, beaten Doraine came to rest +at the end of her final voyage. She shivered and groaned under the +jarring impact, forged onward half her length, heeled over slightly--and +died! She was anchored for ever in the tiny landlocked sea, proud +leviathan whose days had been spent in the boundless reaches of the open +deep. + +And here for the centuries to come would lie the proud Doraine, guided +to her journey's end by the pilot Chance, moored for all time in the +strangest haven ever put into by man. + +Behind the stranded vessel stretched centuries incalculable, and in all +these centuries no man had entered here. Screened from the rest of +the world, untended by chortling tugs, unheralded by raucous sirens, +welcomed only by primeval solitude, the Doraine had come to rest. + +She settled down on her bed of rocks to sleep for evermore, a mottled +monster whose only covering was the night; indifferent to storm and +calm, to time and tide, to darkness and light, she sat serene in her +little sea. Her lofty walls towered high above the waves that broke +tremblingly against them, as if afraid of this strange object from +another world that could rest upon the bottom of the ocean and yet be so +far above them. + +Reported “Lost with all on board!” + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Captain Trigger and a dozen men stood on the boat deck with guns and +revolvers, facing several hundred sullen, determined men and women +from the steerage. Night had not yet fallen; the shadow of the hills, +however, was reaching half way across the oval pool; gloom impenetrable +had settled on the wooded shores. + +With the striking of the Doraine, nearly every one on board was hurled +to the decks. As she heeled over five or six degrees in settling +herself among the rocks, a panic ensued among the ignorant people of the +steerage. They scrambled to their feet and made a rush for the boats, +shouting and screaming in their terror. Other passengers were trampled +under foot and sailors standing by the davits were hurled aside. + +Captain Trigger, anticipating just such a stampede, rushed up with +members of the gun crew. The gaunt, broken old master of the Doraine +drove the horde back from the boats, but as he stood there haranguing +them in good maritime English he could see plainly enough that they were +not to be so easily subdued. The first panic was over, but they were +crazed by the fear that had gripped them for days; they believed that +the ship was soon to sink beneath their feet; safety lay not more than +a hundred yards away,--and it was being denied them by this heartless, +unfeeling despot. + +They were mainly low-caste Portuguese bound for Rio and Bahia, and they +had obeyed him through all those tortuous days out on the deep where +he was the shepherd and they the flock. But now,--now they could well +afford to turn upon and rend him, for he had brought them safe to land +and they no longer owed him anything! + +“My God, I don't want to shoot any of them,” groaned the Captain, +steadying himself against the rail. “But they've got guns, and they're +crazy. I--” + +Some one touched his arm, and a firm, decisive voice spoke in his ear. + +“I'm used to handling gangs like this, Captain Trigger. They don't +understand you, but they'll damn soon understand me, if you'll turn the +job over to me. I'm not trying to be officious, sir, and I'm not even +hinting that you can't bring 'em to their senses. I know how to handle +'em and you don't, that's all. They're not sailors, you see. And it +isn't mutiny. They need a boss, sir,--that's what they need. And they +need him damned quick, so if you don't mind saying the word,--they're +ready to make a rush, and if--” + +“Go ahead, Percival,--if you can hold them--” + +“Say no more!” shouted Percival, and stepped resolutely forward. His +hands were bare,--swollen, red and ugly; his eyes were as cold as steel, +his voice as sharp as a keen-edged sword. He spoke in Spanish to the +wavering, threatening horde. + +“You damned, sneaking, low-lived cowards! What sort of swine are you? +Have you no thought for the women you've trampled upon and beaten out of +your path,--your own women, as well as the others,--think of them and +ask yourselves if you are men. I'm in command of this ship now, and, +by God, I'm going to let you get into those boats and start for shore. +Don't cheer! You don't know what's coming to you. I'm going to turn that +cannon on you up there and blow every one of you to hell and gone before +you get fifty feet from the side of this ship. You don't believe that, +eh? Well, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Lieutenant Platt!” He +called over his shoulder in English to the young commander of the gun's +crew. “Get some of your men up there and train that gun so as to blow +these boats to smithereens. Quick!” In a half-whisper to the Captain: +“It's all right. I know what I'm talking about.” Then to the crowd: +“We don't want you on board this ship a minute longer than we can help. +We've got no room for dogs here among decent white men and women. Do +you understand that? We don't want to have anything more to do with you, +either here or on shore. I'm going to wipe you out, every damned one of +you,--men women and children. You're not fit to live. You're going to +climb into those boats now and get off this ship. You'll never realize +how safe you are here till you get down there in the water and hear that +gun go off. Come on! Get a move! We're through with you, now and for +ever. Nobody's going to stop you. I'm even going to have the boats +lowered for you, so as not to delay matters.” He shouted after +Lieutenant Platt: “Be lively, please. You've got your orders. We'll make +short work of this pack of wolves.” To Captain Trigger, authoritatively: +“Withdraw your men, sir. I am going to let them leave the ship. At once, +sir! Do you mean to disobey me, sir?” He gave the captain a sly wink. + +Then as the bewildered master withdrew with his armed men, he turned +once more to the mob. “Come on! Step lively, now! No rushing! Take your +turn. Every blasted one of you, I mean. What the hell are you hanging +back for,--you? You were so darned eager to go a little while ago, +what's the matter with you now? No one's trying to stop you. Here are +the boats. Put up your guns and knives, and pile in. You're absolutely +free to go, you swine. We'll be damned good and rid of you, and that's +all we're asking. It's a pity to waste powder and cannon-balls on you, +when we may have use for all we've got later on, killing the lions and +tigers and anacondas up there in the woods, but I'm going to do it.” + +He stepped back. Not a man or woman moved. They stood transfixed, packed +in a huddled mass along the deck. Then a woman cried out for mercy. The +cry was taken up by other women. Percival halted and faced them once +more. + +“Get into those boats!” he roared savagely. “It won't do you a bit of +good to whine and pray and squeal. I'm through with you. You've got +to--Well?” + +Several of the men edged forward, some of them trying to smile. + +“Would you kill us when we are only trying to save our lives?” called +out one of them, finding his courage and voice. + +“I don't want to talk to you. Get in!” + +“We have as much right to remain on this ship as anybody else,” shouted +another. “We paid for our passage. We are honest, hard-working--” + +“No use! I'll give you ten minutes to climb into those boats.” + +There was a moment's silence. “And what will you do if we refuse to +leave the ship?” cried one of the men. + +“Be quiet!” he bawled at the whimpering women. “We cannot hear what the +gentleman has to say.” + +“You'll soon find out what I'll do, if you don't obey me inside of ten +minutes,” replied Percival. + +“But the ship is not going to sink any more,” protested another, looking +over the rail timidly. “She is safe. We do not wish to leave now.” + +Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott joined Percival. In an undertone he told +them what he had said to the mob. + +“And now, gentlemen,” he whispered in conclusion, “it's up to you to +intercede in their behalf. They're as tame as rabbits now. They know +the ship's all right, and they believe I intend to blow 'em to pieces +if they once put off in the boats. Start in now, Captain, and argue with +me. Plead for them. They know who I am. They know I come from the hills +and they think I'm a bloodthirsty devil. They're like a lot of cattle. +Most of them are simple, honest, God-fearing people,--and if we handle +them properly now we'll not have much trouble with them in the future. +And only the Good Lord knows what the future is going to bring.” + +So the three of them argued, two against one. Finally Percival threw up +his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + +“All right, Captain. I give in. Perhaps you are right. I suppose it +would be butchery.” + +There were a few in the crowd who understood English. These edged +forward eagerly, hopefully. They called out protestations against the +“slaughter.” + +“Tell them you have reconsidered, Mr. Percival,” said the Captain. “They +are to remain on board.” + +Excited shouts went up from the few who understood, and then the word +went among the others that they were to be spared. There were cries of +relief, joy, gratitude, and not a few fell upon their knees! + +Percival stood forth once more. Silence fell upon the throng. + +“The Captain has put in a plea for you, and I have decided to grant it. +You may remain on board. Now, listen to me! No one is to leave this +ship until tomorrow morning. We are safe here. We are stuck fast on the +bottom, and nothing can happen to us at present. Tomorrow we will see +what is best to be done. Every man and woman here is to return to the +task he was given by Mr. Mott at the beginning of our troubles. We've +got to eat, and sleep, and--Wait a minute! Well, all right,--beat it, if +you feel that way about it.” + +He stood watching them as they excitedly withdrew toward the bow of the +ship, breaking up into clattering groups, all of them talking at once. + +Captain Trigger laid his hand on the young man's shoulder. + +“If it had not been for you, Percival, this deck would now be red +with blood,--and some of us would be dead. You saved a very ticklish +situation. I take off my hat to you, and I say, with a full heart, that +I shall never again doubt your ability to handle men. No one but an +American could have tricked that mob as you did, my lad.” + +From various points of vantage the foregoing scene had been witnessed by +uneasy, alarmed persons from upper cabins. Overwhelmed and dismayed by +the rush of the yelling mob, the elect had fled for safety, urged by a +greater fear than any that had gone before,--the fear of rioting men. + +A few of them, more daring and inquisitive than the rest, had ventured +recklessly into the zone of danger. Among them were Ruth Clinton and +Madame Olga Obosky, who, disregarding the command of Mr. Mott, were the +only women to venture beyond the protecting corner of the deck building. +They stood side by side, bracing themselves against the downward slope +of the deck. Half-way forward were Trigger and the armed gunners, +and beyond them the dense, irresolute mass of humanity. Percival, in +rounding the corner to go to the assistance of Captain Trigger, observed +with dismay the exposed position in which the two women had placed +themselves. He paused to cry out to them sharply: + +“What are you doing here? Get back to the other side. Can't you see +there is likely to be shooting? Don't stand there like a couple of +idiots! You're right in line if that gang begins to fire.” + +“He is tearing off his bandages,” cried Ruth, as Percival hurried on. + +Madame Obosky was silent, her gaze fixed intently on the brisk, +aggressive figure of the man who had called them idiots. She understood +every word he uttered to the Portuguese. Her eyes glistened with pride +when he stepped forward to tackle the mob single-handed, and as he went +on with his astonishing speech she actually broke into a soft giggle. +Her companion looked at her in amazement. + +“Why do you laugh?” she demanded hotly. “Those dreadful creatures may +tear him to pieces. He is unarmed and defenceless. They could sweep +him--” + +“You would laugh also if you understood,” interrupted Olga, her +eyes dancing. “Oh, what a grand--what do you call it?--bluff? What a +magnificent bluff he is doing! It is beautiful. See,--they whisper among +themselves,--they have back down completely. Wait! I will presently tell +you what he have said to them.” + +“I never dreamed any man could be so fearless. Look at the odds against +him. There are scores of them,--and they--” + +“Pooh! Do you suppose he would stand up and fight them if they rushed at +him? Not he! He would turn and run as fast as he could. He is no fool, +my dear. He is a very intelligent man. So he would run if they make a +single move toward him.” + +“I think this is rather a poor time to accuse him of cowardice, Madame +Obosky, in view of what he--” + +“Have I accused him of cowardice?” + +“I'd like to know what you call it. You say he would run if they--” + +“But that would not be cowardice. It would be the simplest kind of +common sense. He is so very sure of himself. It is not courage. It is +confidence. That is his strength. He would be a fool to stand in front +of them empty-handed if they were to charge upon him. Maybe when +you have known him as long as I have, you will realize he is not a +fool,--about himself or any one else.” + +Ruth stared at her. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, Madame Obosky, I have +known Mr. Percival as long if not longer than you have.” + +“You do not know him at all,” rejoined the Russian brusquely. “Be still, +please! I must hear what he is saying to them now.” A little later she +turned to the American girl and laid her hand on her arm. “For-give me, +if I was rude to you. I am so very much older than you that I--how old +are you, Miss Clinton?” + +“I am twenty-five,” replied the other, surprised into replying. + +“And I am twenty-six,” said Madame Obosky, as if she were at least twice +the age of her companion. “See! They are dispersing. It's all over. +Come! Let us go back to the other side.” + +“I am not ready to go back to the other side,” protested the American +girl, resisting the hand on her arm. “Why should we go back, now that +the danger is over?” + +“Because we must not let him catch us here,” urged Olga in some +agitation. + +“And why not, pray?” + +The Russian looked at her in astonishment. “But surely you heard him +tell us to go back to the other side. You heard him call us idiots, Miss +Clinton?” + +And Ruth Clinton suffered herself to be hurried incontinently around the +corner of the deck building. + +“Once, in Moscow, I saw a Grand Duke confront a mob of students who had +gathered in the street near his house. They were armed and they had +come to destroy this man himself. There were hundreds of them. He walked +straight toward them, his head erect, his shoulders squared, and +when they stopped he spoke to them as if they were dogs. When he had +finished, he turned his back upon them and walked away. They might have +filled him with bullets,--but they did not fire a shot. At the corner +he entered his carriage and disappeared. And then what did he do? He +fainted, that Grand Duke, he did. Fainted like a stupid, silly young +girl. But while he was standing before zat---that mob of terrorists he +was the strongest man in Russia. Nevertheless, he was afraid of them. +You have therefore the curious spectacle to perceive, Miss Clinton, of +one man being afraid of hundreds, and of hundreds of men at the same +time being afraid of one. Man, he is a queer animal, eh?” + +It was not long before the doubts and fears of all on board the Doraine +gave way to a strange, unnatural state of exhilaration. It represented +joy without happiness, relief without security, exultation without +conviction,--for, after all, there still remained unanswered the +question that robbed every sensation of its thrill. While they were +singing the hymns of thanksgiving in the saloon that night, and +listening to the fervent prayers; while they ate, drank and were merry, +their thoughts were not of the day but of the morrow. What of the +morrow? In the eyes of every one who laughed and sang dwelt the +unchanging shadow of anxiety; on every face was stamped an expression +that spoke more plainly than words the doubts and misgivings that +constituted the background of their jubilation. They had escaped the +sea, but would they ever escape the land? Had God, in answer to their +complaints and prayers, directed them to a land from which the hand of +man would never rescue them? Were they isolated here in the untraversed +southern seas, cast upon an island unknown to the rest of the world? Or +were they, on the other hand, within reach of human agencies by which +the world might be made acquainted with their plight? + +Uppermost in every mind was the sickening recollection, however, that +for days they had ranged the sea without sighting a single craft. They +were far from the travelled lanes, they were out of the worth-while +world. Hope rested solely on the possibility that the hills and forests +hid from view the houses and wharves of a desolate little sea-town set +up by the far-reaching people of the British Isles. + +The story of Percival's achievement was not long in going the rounds. +It went through the customary process of elaboration. By the time it +reached his ears,--through the instrumentality of Mr. Morris Shine, the +motion picture magnate,--it had assumed sufficient magnitude to draw +from that enterprising gentleman a bona fide offer of quite a large sum +for the film rights in case Mr. Percival would agree to re-enact the +thrilling scene later on. In fact, Mr. Shine, having recovered his +astuteness and his courage simultaneously, was already working at the +preliminary details of the most “stupendous” picture ever conceived by +man. His deepest lament now was that he had neglected to bring a good +camera man down from New York, so that on the day of the explosion he +could have “got” the people actually jumping overboard, and drowning in +plain sight--(although he did not see them because of the trouble he +was having to get a seat in one of the life-boats),--and the wounded +scattered over the decks, the fire, the devastation, the departure and +return of the boats, the storm and all that followed, including himself +in certain judiciously preserved scenes, and the whole production could +have been made at practically no cost at all. There never had been +such an opportunity, complained Mr. Shine the moment he felt absolutely +certain that the opportunity was a thing of the past. + +“No wonder he got away with it,” said Mr. Landover to a group of +rejuvenated satellites. “He is hand in glove with them, that fellow is. +I wouldn't trust him around the corner. Why, it's perfectly plain to +anybody with a grain of intelligence that he's the leader of that gang +of anarchists. All he had to do was to speak to them,--in their own +language, mind you,--and back they slunk to their quarters. They obeyed +him because he is their chosen leader, and that's all there is to +this--What say, Fitts?” + +Mr. Fitts, who was not a satellite but a very irritating Christian +gentleman, cleared his throat and said: + +“I didn't speak, Mr. Landover. I always make a noise like that when I +yawn. It's an awfully middle-class habit I've gotten into. Still, don't +you think one obtains a little more--shall we say enjoyment?--a little +more enjoyment out of a yawn if he lets go and puts his whole soul into +it? Of course, it isn't really necessary to utter the 'hi-ho-hum!' quite +so vociferously as I do,--in fact, it might even be better to omit it +altogether,--if possible,--when some one else is speaking. There are, I +grant you, other ways of expressing one's complete mastery of the art +of yawning, such as a prolonged but audible sigh, or a sort of muffled +howl, or even a series of blissful little shrieks peculiar to the +feminine of the species,--any one of these, I admit, is a trifle more +elegant and up-to-date, but they all lack the splendid resonance,--you +might even say grandiloquence,--of the old-fashioned 'hi-ho-hum!' to +which I am addicted. Now, if you will consider--” + +“My God!” exclaimed the banker, with a positively venomous emphasis on +the name of the Deity. “Who wants to know anything about yawns?” + +Mr. Fitts looked hurt. “I am sorry. My mistake. I thought you were +trying to change the subject when you interrupted my yawn.” + +“That fellow's a damn' fool,” said the banker, as Fitts strolled off to +join another group. + +“Try one of these cigars, Mr. Landover,” said Mr. Nicklestick +persuasively. “Of course, they're nothing like the kind you smoke, +but--” + +“Is mine out? So it is. No, thank you. I'll take a match, however, if +you have one about you.” + +Four boxes were hastily thrust upon the great financier. + +“Haf you noticed how poor the matches are lately, Mr. Landover?” + complained Mr. Block. + +“As for this vagabond being superintendent of a mining concession up in +Bolivia,” continued Landover, absentmindedly sticking Mr. Nicklestick's +precious, box of matches into his own pocket, “that's all poppycock. +He's an out-and-out adventurer. You can't fool me. I've handled too many +men in my time. I sized him up right from the start. But the devil of it +is, he's got all the officers on this boat hypnotized. And most of the +women too. I made it a point to speak to Mrs. Spofford and her niece +about him this morning,--and the poor girl has been making quite a fool +of herself over him, you may have observed. Mrs. Spofford owns quite a +block of stock in our institution, so I considered it my duty to put a +flea in her ear, if you see what I mean.” + +“Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. Nicklestick. + +“She should have been very grateful,” said Mr. Block. + +Mr. Landover frowned. “I'm going to speak to her again as soon as she +has regained her strength and composure. Nerves all shot to pieces, you +understand. Everything distorted,--er--shot to pieces, as I say. I dare +say I should have had more sense than to--er--ahem!--two or three days' +rest, that's what she needs, poor thing.” + +“Absolutely,” said Mr. Nicklestick. + +“You can't tell a woman anything when she's upset,” said Mr. Block, +feelingly. + +“Miss Clinton is a very charming young lady,” said Mr. Nicklestick, +giving his moustache a slight twist. “I should hate to see her lose her +head over a fellow like him.” + +“She is a splendid girl,” said Landover warmly. “One of the oldest +families in New York. She deserves nothing but the best.” + +“That's right, that's right,” assented Mr. Nicklestick. “I don't know +when I've met a more charming young lady, Mr. Landover.” + +“I didn't know you had met her,” observed the banker coldly. + +“Oh, yes,” replied Mr. Nicklestick. “We were in the same lifeboat, Mr. +Landover, you know,--all night, you know, Mr. Landover.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Early the next morning, Percival turned out long before there were any +sounds from the galley or dining-room. The sun had not yet cleared the +tree-tops to the east; the decks of the Doraine were still wet with dew. +A few sailors were abroad; a dull-eyed junior officer moodily picked +his way through the debris on the forward deck. Birds were singing and +chattering in the trees that lined the shore; down at the water's edge, +like sentinels on duty, with an eye always upon the strange, gigantic +intruder, strutted a number of stately, bright-plumaged birds of the +flamingo variety--(doubtless they were flamingoes); the blue surface of +the basin was sprinkled with the myriad white, gleaming backs of winged +fishermen, diving, flapping, swirling; on high, far above the hills, +soared two or three huge birds with wings outspread and rigid, monarchs +of all that they surveyed. The stowaway leaned on the port rail and +fixed his gaze upon the crest of the severed hill, apparently the +tallest of the half dozen or so that were visible from his position. + +With powerful glasses he studied the wooded slope. This hill was +probably twelve or fourteen hundred feet high. He thought of it as a +hill, for he had lived long in the heart of the towering Andes. Behind +him lay the belt of woodland that separated the basin from the open +sea, a scant league away. The cleft through the hill lay almost directly +ahead. It's walls apparently were perpendicular; a hundred feet or +less from the pinnacle, the opening spread out considerably, indicating +landslides at some remote period, the natural sloughing off of earth +and stone in the formation of this narrow, unnatural passage through +the very centre of the little mountain. For at least a thousand feet, +however, the sides of the passage rose as straight as a wall. That the +mountain was of solid rock could not be doubted after a single glance at +those sturdy, unflinching walls, black and sheer. + +“Well, what do you make of it?” inquired a voice at his elbow. He turned +to find Mr. Mott standing beside him. + +“Earthquake,” he replied. “Thousands of years ago, of course. Split the +island completely in two.” + +“Sounds plausible,” mused the First Officer. “But if that is the case, +how do you account for the shallowness of the water in the passage and +out here in the basin? An earthquake violent enough to split that hill +would make a crack in the earth a thousand fathoms deep.” + +“I have an idea that if we took soundings in this basin we'd find a +section twenty or thirty feet wide in the centre of it where we couldn't +touch bottom. The same would be true of the passage if we plumbed the +middle. When we came through it the ship scraped bottom time and again. +As a matter of fact,--the way I figure it out,--she was simply bumping +against the upper edges of a crevice that reaches down God knows how +far. We took no soundings, you will remember, until we swung out into +this pool. I'll bet my head that that cut through the hill yonder is a +mile deep. Earthquake fissures seldom go deeper than that, I've heard. +Generally they are mere surface cracks, a hundred feet deep at the +outside. But this one,--My God, it gives me the creeps, that crack in +the earth does.” + +“Umph!” said Mr. Mott, his elbows on the rail beside the young man, his +chin in his hands. He was looking down at the water. “Captain Trigger is +planning to send a couple of boats outside to survey the coast. I +dare say he'll be asking you to go out in one of them. You're a civil +engineer and so he feels--” + +“Excuse me, Mr. Mott, but what's the sense of sending boats out to +explore the coast before we find out how big the island is?” + +“What's the sense? Why, how are we to find out how big the island is +unless we make the circuit of it? And how in thunder are we to find out +that there isn't a village or some sort of trading port on it--What are +you pointing up there for?” + +Percival's finger was levelled at the top of the higher half of the +bisected mountain. + +“See that hill, Mr. Mott? Well, unless we're on a darned sight bigger +island than I think we are, we can see from one end of it to the other +from the top of that hill. It isn't much of a climb. A few huskies with +axes to cut a path through the underbrush, and we might get up there in +a few hours. I've been figuring it out. That's why I got up so early. +Had it on my mind all night. The sensible thing to do is to send a gang +of us up there to have a look around. Strange Captain Trigger never +thought of it. I suppose it's because he's an old sea-dog and not a +landlubber.” + +Mr. Mott coughed. “I fancy he would have thought of it in good time.” + +“Well, in case he doesn't think of it in time, you might suggest it to +him, Mr. Mott.” + +The result of this conversation was the formation of a party of +explorers to ascend the mountain. They were sent ashore soon after +breakfast, well-armed, equipped with axes and other implements, +boat-hooks, surveying instruments, and the most powerful glasses on +board. Percival was in command. The party was made up of a dozen +men, half of them from the gun crew, with an additional complement of +laborers from the steerage. + +Ruth Clinton, as soon as she learned of the proposed expedition, sought +out Percival and insisted upon re-bandaging his hands. + +“You must not go into all that tangle of brushwood with your hands +unprotected,” she declared, obstinately shaking her head in response to +his objections. “Don't be foolish, Mr. Percival. It won't take me five +minutes to wrap them up. Sit down,--I insist. You are still one of my +patients. Hold out your hand!” + +“They are ever so much better,” he protested, but he obeyed her. + +“Of course they are,” she agreed, in a matter-of-fact tone. “You did +not give me a chance last night to tell you how splendid you were in +tackling that crazy mob. I witnessed it all, you know. Madame Obosky and +I.” + +“Then, you didn't beat it when I told you to, eh?” + +“Certainly not. What are you going to do about it?” + +“What can I do? I can only say this: I'm glad Captain Trigger's opinion +of me is based on my ability to reason with an ignorant mob and not on +my power to intimidate a couple of very intelligent young women.” + +“I wouldn't have missed it for worlds,” she said coolly. She looked up +into his eyes, a slight frown puckering her brow. “Do you know, Madame +Obosky had the impertinence to say that you would have turned tail and +fled if those people had shown fight.” + +He grinned. “She's an amazing person, isn't she? Wonderful faculty for +sizing the most of us up.” + +“You would have run?” + +“Like a rabbit,” he answered, unabashed. “That's a little too tight, I +think, Miss Clinton. Would you mind loosening it up a bit?” + +“Oh, I'm sorry. Is that better? Now the other one, please.” + +“Yes, I'm an awful coward,” he said, after a long silence. + +She looked up quickly. Something in his eyes brought a faint flush to +her cheek. For a second or two she met his gaze steadily and then her +eyes fell, but not before he had caught the shy, wondering expression +that suddenly filled them. He experienced an almost uncontrollable +desire to lay his clumsy hand upon the soft, smooth brown hair. Through +his mind flashed a queer rush of comparison. He recalled the +dark, knowing eyes of the Russian dancer, mysterious and +seductive,--man-reading eyes from which nothing was concealed,--and +contrasted them with the clear, honest, blue-grey orbs that still could +fall in sweet confusion. His heart began to pound furiously, he felt a +queer tightening of the throat. He was afraid to trust his voice. How +white and soft and gentle were her hands,--and how beautiful they were. + +Suddenly she stroked the bandaged hand,--as an amiable manicurist might +have done--and arose. + +“There!” she said, composedly. Her cheek was cool and unflushed, her +eyes serene and smiling. “Now you may go, Mr. Percival. Good luck! Bring +back good news to us. I dreamed last night that we were marooned, that +we would have to stay here for ever.” + +“All of us?” he asked, a trifle thickly. + +“Certainly,” she replied, after the moment required for comprehension. +Her eyes were suddenly cold and uncompromising. + +“If I never come back,” he began, somewhat dashed, “I'd like you to +remember always, Miss Clinton, that I--well, that I am the most grateful +dog alive. You've been corking.” + +“But it isn't possible you won't come back,” she cried, and he was happy +to see a flicker of alarm in her eyes. “What--what could happen to you? +It isn't--” + +“Oh, all sorts of things,” he broke in, much in the same spirit as that +which dominates the boy who wishes he could die in order to punish his +parents for correcting him. + +“Are--are you really in earnest?” + +“Would you care--very much?” + +She hesitated. “Haven't I wished you good luck, Mr. Percival?” + +“Would you mind answering my question?” + +“Of course I should care,--very much indeed,” she replied calmly. “I am +sure that everybody would be terribly grieved if anything were to happen +to you out there.” + +“Well,--good-bye, Miss Clinton. I guess they're waiting for me.” + +“Good-bye! Oh, how I wish I were in your place! Just to put my foot +on the blessed, green earth once more. Good-bye! And--and good luck, +again.” + +“If you will take a pair of glasses and watch the top of that +hill,--there is a bare knob up there, you see,--you will know long +before we come back whether this island is inhabited or not. I am +taking an American flag with me. If we do not see another flag floating +anywhere on this island, I intend to plant the Stars and Stripes on that +hill,--just for luck!” + +She walked a few steps at his side, their bodies aslant against the +slope of the deck. + +“And if you do not raise the flag, we shall know at once that--that +there are other people here?” she said, her voice eager with suppressed +excitement. “It will mean that ships--” Her voice failed her. + +“It will mean home,--some day,” he returned solemnly. + +The one remaining port-side boat was lowered a few minutes later and to +the accompaniment of cheers from the throng that lined the rails, the +men pulled away, heading for a tiny cove on the far side of the +basin. The shore at that point was sloping and practically clear of +undergrowth. + +It was while Percival was waiting to take his place in the boat that +Olga Obosky hurried up to him. + +“I have brought my luck piece for you,” she said, and revealed in her +open palm a small gold coin, worn smooth with age and handling. +“Carry it, my friend. Nothing will happen to you while it is in your +possession. It was given me by the son of a Grand Duke. It was his lucky +piece. It brought me luck, for he was killed zat very same day, and so I +was saved from him. Keep it in your pocket till you come safely back and +then--then you shall return it to me, because I would not be without my +luck, no.” She slipped her hand deep into his trousers pocket. “There is +no hole. That is good. I have place it there. It is safe. Au revoir! You +will have good luck, my friend.” + +Withdrawing her warm hand from his pocket she turned and walked swiftly +away. + +The throng on board the Doraine watched the party land; hats and +handkerchiefs were waved as the adventurers turned for a last look +behind, before they disappeared into the forest. + +Hours passed,--long interminable hours for those who were not engaged +in the active preparations for the landing of people and stores. Captain +Trigger was making ready to transfer the passengers from the ship at the +earliest possible moment. He was far from certain that the Doraine would +maintain its rather precarious balance on the rocks. With safety not +much more than a stone's throw away, he was determined to take no +further risk. + +At last a shout went up from some one on the forecastle deck. It was +taken up by eager voices. Out upon the bald crest of the mountain +straggled the first of the explorers to reach the goal. They were +plainly visible. One after another the rest of the party appeared. The +illusion was startling. It was as if they had actually emerged from the +tree-tops. With straining eyes the observers below watched the group of +figures outlined against the sky. They spoke in subdued tones. As time +went on and the flag was not unfurled, they took hope; eyes brightened, +the hushed tones increased to a cheerful, excited clatter, the tenseness +that had held them rigid for so long gave way before the growing +conviction that another flag already fluttered somewhere beyond the +screening hills. + +And then, when hope was highest, the Stars and Stripes went up! + +Captain Trigger assembled the ship's company on the forward deck later +in the day. The landing party returned about three o'clock. Acting on +advance instructions, they made their report in private to the Captain, +denying all information to the clamorous passengers. A brief conference +of officers, to which a number of men from the first cabin were invited, +was held immediately after Percival's return. A course of action was +discussed and agreed upon, and then all on board were summoned to the +open deck to hear the result of the expedition. + +Percival reported the following facts and conclusions: + +1. The island was approximately fifteen miles long and six or seven +miles wide in the centre. The basin in which the Doraine rested was +about midway between the extreme points, and about two miles inland from +the northern shore. The southern slope of the range descended to a flat +plain, or perhaps moor, some two miles across at its broadest point and +ran in varying width from one end of the island to the other. It was +green and almost entirely devoid of timber. The central eminence from +which the observations were taken was the loftiest of a range of ten or +twelve diminishing hills that formed what might actually be described as +the backbone of the island. The eastern extremity tapered off to a +long, level, low-lying promontory that ended in a point so sharp and +wedge-like that it bore a singular resemblance to the forward deck and +prow of a huge ironclad. The hills, as they approached the plateau, +terminated altogether a couple of miles from the tip of land. The +western half of the island (strictly speaking, it was a separate bit of +land, cut off from its neighbour by the ribbon-like channel), was of +a more rugged character, the hills, in fact, extending to the sea, +forming, no doubt, steep and precipitous cliffs, rising directly from +the water's edge. + +(Since his return, Percival had painted on a large piece of canvas a +fairly accurate outline map of the bisected island as it had appeared +to him from the top of the mountain. This crude map was hung up in full +view of the spectators, and served him well in an effort to make clear +his deductions. His original sketch is reproduced later on in this +chronicle.) + +2. There was no visible sign of past or present human habitation. +Absolutely nothing appeared to indicate that man had ever attempted to +claim or occupy this virgin land. + +3. The channel through the mountain was less than one hundred feet wide. +The walls of this gorge at one point were fully seven hundred feet high, +absolutely perpendicular, and of solid rock. It was as if the hill had +been split wide open with one blow of a tremendous broad-ax. Beyond the +elevation the channel spread out fan-fashion, creating a funnel-like bay +or inlet from the sea. + +4. There was no other land in sight. As far as the eye could reach with +the aid of lenses there was nothing but water, a mighty waste of water. + +5. The wind, which had veered around to the south, was cold and dry. + +6. A curving beach of almost snowy whiteness extended for a mile or so +along the northern shore, about half way between the entrance to the +channel and the eastern point of land. Inside the fringe of trees that +lined this beach stretched what appeared to be a long strip of rolling +meadow-land, reaching far up the hillsides. + +7. Monkeys, parrots and snakes abounded in the forest. An occasional +gay-plumaged bird of the toucan variety, but larger than the ordinary +South American species, was seen, while large numbers of plump birds of +the tinamou family went drumming off through the forest at the approach +of the party. Penguins strutted in complete “full dress” among the rocks +of the southern shore. A dead armadillo of extraordinary dimensions was +found near the foot of the slope. It was at least thrice the size of +the common South American mammal. The same could be said of the single +iguana encountered. This large lizard, which was alive, must have been +fully ten feet from head to tail, and gave rise to the belief that the +supposedly extinct iguanodon, described by the scientists as attaining a +length of thirty feet, might any day be discovered in the fastnesses +of this unexplored land. The mere existence of this rather amiable, +unfrightened monster was of the greatest significance. If it were known +to man, why had it never been reported in zoological or natural history +journals? + +8. The trees on the mountain-side were thick and stunted, with +interlocking limbs that created a sort of endless canopy which the sun +was unable to penetrate. The cool, dry wind that swept the slope would +account, however, for the surprising absence of moisture in soil and +vegetation in the dense shade of the trees. Oak, elm, spruce, even +walnut, and other trees of a sturdy character indigenous to the +temperate zone were identified. What appeared to be a clump of cypress +trees, fantastic, misshapen objects that seemed to, shrink back in +terror from the assaulting breakers, stood out in bold relief upon a +rocky point to the south and west of the observation hill. Their gaunt, +twisted trunks leaned backward from the sea; their shorn limbs, racked +by gales, were raised as if in supplication to the sombre forest behind +them. Trunks of enormous trees that had fallen perhaps a century ago +were found half-buried in the earth, while scattered along the northern +base of the range, overlooking the downs, a few of their gigantic +counterparts, alive and flourishing, raised their lofty heads far above +the surrounding forest, and stood like sentinels, guarding the plain. + +9. A small river wound its devious way, with serpentine crooks and +curves, through the downs and across the meadow, emptying into the ocean +some distance east of the gleaming beach. That its source was far up +in the secretive hills was not a matter of conjecture, however; +the incessant hiss and roar of a cataract was plainly heard by the +investigators. + +Here is the crude, hastily sketched map of the island as made by +Percival: + +1. Position of stranded vessel in basin. + +2. Entrance to channel from the north. + +3. Entrance to channel from the south. + +4. Narrow strip of woodland from channel almost to river's mouth. + +5. Strip of meadow-land clear of trees. + +6. River. + +7. Stretch of lowland leading down to the water. + +8. Crest of hill from which observations were taken with range extending +east and west. + +9. Point of rocks with cypress trees. + +10. Buttress-like west end of island. + +11. Dense forest reaching to channel. + +12. Rocky cape. + +13. Level plateau, without trees. + +14. Beach. + +15. Penguins. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +After the second reading of the foregoing report, the first being +in English, Percival requested his fellow explorers to verify the +statements contained therein. This they did promptly. He then went on: + +“I am delegated by Captain Trigger and the officers of this vessel, +after a conference just concluded,--and of which you are all well +aware,--to put before you as briefly and as clearly as possible the +decision that has been reached. I may as well confess in the beginning +that this decision is based on the recommendations of the party who went +to the top of the mountain. It is out of the question for the people on +board this vessel to go ashore until further investigations have been +made. For the present, we are all safe here on board the ship. We +don't know what perils exist in the absolutely unexplored country that +surrounds us. Additional parties are to be sent out to explore the +island, especially the eastern section of it. There is no use mincing +matters. We are confronted by a very plain situation. It is possible, +even probable, that we are the first human beings ever to set foot on +this land. If that be true, we are now so far out of the path of the few +ships and steamers sailing these southern seas that there is small hope +or chance of a speedy rescue. As a matter of fact, it isn't likely that +we will be discovered until the island itself is discovered, if you see +what I mean. + +“There isn't the slightest chance that the ship we're now standing on +will ever float again. Even if the engines could be put in order,--and +that is possible, I am told,--the vessel cannot be raised. If anybody +has been nursing that sort of hope, he may as well get rid of it. +It's no good. We are here to stay, unless help comes from the outside. +There's the plain English of it. We may have to live here on this +island, like poor old Robinson Crusoe, for years,--for a great many +years. I'm going to stop just a few seconds to let that soak into your +brains. We've got to face it. We've got to make the best of it. It is +not for Captain Trigger or me or any one else to say that we will not +be taken off this island some time--maybe sooner than we think. Whaling +vessels must visit these parts. That's neither here nor there. We've got +our work cut out for us, friends. We've got to think of the present and +let the future take care of itself. Now, here are the facts. We cannot +remain on board this wreck. We've got to go to work, every man, woman +and child of us. I don't know what can be cultivated on this island, but +we've got to find out, and when we find out we've got to begin raising +it. If we don't, my friends, we'll starve to death in a very short time. +And what's more, if we do not get out there and put up houses to live +in, we'll freeze to death when winter comes along. + +“According to calculations, winter is still five or six months away. We +won't get it, I dare say, before next April or May. All you have to do +is to take a look at all these trees around here to realize that we are +a long way from the tropics. It gets as cold as blazes here in the dead +of winter, I can tell you that. We've got to build homes. We've got to +build a camp,--not a flimsy, half-way sort of camp, but a good, solid, +substantial one, my friends. There is what you might call a minority +report in regard to the situation. Captain Trigger asked me to speak +for him and others who look at it as I do. Mr. Landover, who is, I +understand, one of the leading bankers in the United States of America, +contends that we are well enough off as we are, on board the Doraine, +where we've got cabins and beds and shelter from the elements. He may be +right. All I have to say to him is this,--I don't believe I mentioned +it at this conference, Mr. Landover, simply because I'm one of those +unhappy individuals who always think of the brilliant things I might +have said when it's too late to say them,--all I have to say is this: if +Mr. Landover and his supporters expect to sit snugly on this ship while +the rest of us build houses and plant crops, and then conclude to come +out and bone the rest of us for a square meal and a nice warm place to +sleep, they are going to be badly fooled. We're all equal here. A couple +of million dollars, more or less, doesn't cut any ice on this little +island. What counts here is muscle and commonsense and a willingness to +use both. + +“A little while ago I asked Mr. Landover how much money he has with him. +He informed me that while it wasn't any of my business, he has about +five hundred dollars in American money and a couple of hundred pesos +besides, but that his letter of credit is still good for fifteen +thousand. Mr. Nicklestick has about five hundred dollars in money, +and so has Mr. Block and one or two others. They've all got letters +of credit, express checks, and so forth, and I suppose there is a +wheelbarrow full of jewellery on board this ship. Now, if money is to +talk down here, I wish to state that the men and women from the steerage +have got more real dough than all the first and second cabins put +together. They haven't any letters of credit or bank accounts in New +York, but there are a dozen men in the steerage who have as much as two +or three thousand pesos sewed up inside their clothes. So far as I can +make out, the only people who can afford to hire anybody to build a +hut for them, and pay for it in real money, are the plutocrats from the +steerage. + +“Mr. Landover's letter of credit is good for fifteen thousand if he ever +gets back to New York, but it isn't worth fifteen cents here. His life +is insured for one million dollars, I am told. I don't know who the +beneficiaries are, but, whoever they are, they are going to put in a +claim for the million if he doesn't show up in New York pretty shortly. +He is going to be declared officially dead, and so are all the rest of +us, after a reasonable time has elapsed. Now, I don't say that we are +never going to be rescued. We may be found inside of a month. Some of us +don't quite realize the fix we are in. Mr. Codge, the purser, was saying +a little while ago that a lady from the first cabin nearly took his head +off when he told her it was impossible to send a cable message to her +people in Boston. A number of passengers have already demanded that +their passage money be refunded. + +“You have doubtless heard how I came to be on board this steamer. I am +a stowaway. I have no standing among you. I haven't a penny in my +pocket,--aside from a luck-piece that doesn't belong to me. I wanted to +get back to the States so that I could carry a gun or something over in +France. I wanted to fight for my country. I wasn't thinking very much +about my life when I started for home and France, but I want to say that +I'm thinking about it now. I don't intend to starve or freeze to death +if I can help it. I am going to fight for my life, not for my country. + +“This is no time to be sentimental. It is no time to sit down and pity +ourselves or each other. God knows I am just as sorry for myself as you +are for yourselves, but that isn't going to get me anywhere. We've got +to work. That means all of us. It means the women as well as the men. +It means the women with soft, white hands and the men who never did a +stroke of manual labour in their lives, just as much as it means the +people who have never done anything else but work. Something will be +found for every one of us to do, and, ladies and gentlemen, we will have +to do it without whining. + +“Captain Trigger is accountable for the cargo on board this ship. +Naturally he is opposed to our confiscating anything that has been +entrusted to him for safe delivery. He takes a very sensible attitude, +however. He will officially protest against the removal of anything from +the hold of his vessel, but he will not employ force to resist us when +we begin to land stores, foodstuffs and all that sort of thing. He +understands the situation perfectly. + +“Now, here is what we will have to do. We must select a site for our +camp,--or town, you may well say,--and we must build upon it without +delay. That is to be our first step. Details will come later. There are +over six hundred of us here. We represent a fair-sized village. We have +mechanics, carpenters, farmers, surveyors, masons,--and merchants, to +say nothing of cooks, housekeepers, and so on. The ship contains all +sorts of tools to work with, canvas for temporary quarters, beds and +bedding, cooking utensils,--in fact, we have everything that Robinson +Crusoe didn't have, and besides all that, we've got each other. We are +not alone on a desert island. We are, my friends, as well off as the +Pilgrims who landed on Plymouth Rock, and we are better off than the +hardy colonists who laid the foundation for the country that flies +that flag up there. Centuries ago bold adventurers set out to discover +unknown lands. They were few in number and poorly equipped. But they +ventured into the wilderness and built villages that grew to be cities. +They went through a thousand hardships that we will never know, and they +survived. + +“Captain Trigger and the others selected me to make this talk to +you because I have had some practical experience in establishing and +developing a camp, such as we will have to build. Experience has taught +me one thing above all others: work, hard work of a constructive nature, +is our only salvation. Unless we occupy ourselves from one day's end to +another in good, hard, honest toil, we will all go mad. That's the long +and the short of it. If we sat still on this boat for thirty days, doing +nothing, we'd lose our minds. There isn't a man in this crowd, I am +sure, who wouldn't work his head off to spare the women an hour of +hardship. But the greatest hardship you women could possibly know would +be idleness. There will be work for every one to do, and we can thank +God for it, my friends. We will have to work for nothing. We will have +to help each other. There is but one class on this island at present, +and that is the working class. + +“We've all got people at home waiting for us. By this time the whole +world knows that the Doraine is three weeks overdue at Rio Janeiro, and +that no word has been had from her. The ocean is being searched. Our +friends, our relatives are doing everything in their power to get trace +of this lost ship. You may depend on that. In a little while,--a few +weeks, at best,--the ship will be given up for lost. We will be counted +as dead, all of us. That's a hard, cruel thing for me to say, and I hate +to say it,--but we've just got to realize the position we're in. It's +best that we should look at it from the worst possible angle. I do not +speak jestingly when I say that we may as well consider ourselves dead +and forgotten. I am as full of hope and confidence as anybody and I am +an optimist if there ever was one, but I don't work on the theory that +God takes any better care of an optimist than He does of a pessimist. + +“It will require months, maybe years, for us to construct a ship, and +even then it will not be big enough to transport all of us. The most we +can hope for is a craft that will be stout enough to go out and bring +help to the rest of us. I am trying, at Captain Trigger's suggestion, +to convince you that we can't build a ship, that we can't expect to get +away from this island by our own endeavours, unless we go about it in +the proper and sensible way. That means, first of all, that we must +safeguard ourselves against time. We've got to live and we've got to +keep our strength. + +“Mr. Landover has made a very generous proposition. He agrees to give a +hundred thousand dollars to any boat's crew that will take one of these +lifeboats and make port somewhere. He fails to mention the compensation +they are to receive if they never make port. He forgets that this big +ship floundered around for a good many days without sighting anything +but water. He would have been perfectly safe in offering a hundred +million dollars, because he would never be called upon to pay it. I +understand, however, that his offer still stands. + +“Tomorrow morning surveying parties will be sent ashore to look for a +possible site for our town. Volunteers will undertake this work. As soon +as possible thereafter a temporary camp will be set up, and practically +every one on board will be moved from this ship. Captain Trigger and +a few chosen men will remain on board. It is his wish, ladies and +gentlemen. He is the captain of the Doraine. He will not leave her. We +are all here today, and alive, because Captain Trigger would not leave +his ship. We owe our lives to him. This is not the time to propose three +cheers for the gallant master of the Doraine. It is not the time to +cheer for anybody or for anything. We do not feel like cheering. +We've done all the praying that is necessary, we've offered up all the +thanksgiving that the situation calls for, so now we've got to roll up +our sleeves and go to work.” + +He, stepped down from the gun-platform. There were no cheers. Every +voice was stilled, every face was set. Many seconds passed before there +was even the slightest stir among those who had listened so intently. + +Then the few English-speaking people from the steerage began to whisper +hoarsely to their bewildered companions. + + + + + + +BOOK TWO + +CHAPTER I. + + +The warm, summer season was well-advanced in this far southern land +before the strenuous, tireless efforts of the marooned settlers began to +show definite results. + +Some six weeks after the stranding of the Doraine, staunch log cabins +were in course of completion along the base of the hills overlooking the +clear, rolling meadow-land to the north and east. Down in the lowlands +scores of men were employed in sowing and planting. The soil was rich. +Farmers and grain-raisers among the passengers were unanimously of +the opinion that almost any vegetable, cereal or fruit indigenous +to Argentina (or at the worst, Patagonia), could be produced here. +Uncertainty as to the duration of the warm period, so vital to the +growing and maturing of crops, was the chief problem. No time was to be +lost if there were to be harvests before the cold and blighting weather +set in. + +It was extremely doubtful if the spring and summer seasons combined +covered more than five months in this latitude. Assuming that the +climate in this open part of the world was anything like that of the +Falkland Islands, the rainy season was overdue. Midwinter usually comes +in July, with the temperature averaging between 35 deg. and 10 deg. +above zero over a period of four or five months. At the time of the +wreck, the thermometers were registering about 70 deg. during the day, +and dropping to 50 deg. or thereabouts after nightfall. This would +indicate that spring was fairly well-advanced, and that midsummer might +be figured on as coming in January. It was now the end of November. Warm +weather probably would last until February or March. Possibly they +would be too late with their planting, but they went about it speedily, +determinedly, just the same. + +All of them had had crop failures before. All of them had seen the +labour of months go for naught in the blight of an evening's frost, or +the sweep of a prairie fire. So here on this virgin isle, in soil whose +sod had never been turned, they sowed from the bins of the slumbering +ship. Wheat and oats and flax, brought from the Argentina plains; +potatoes, squash and beet-root; even beans and peas were tried, but with +small hope. And there were women ready to till the soil and work the +gardens, women to draw the strangely fashioned ploughshares as willing +beasts of burden, to wield the hoe and spade, and to watch for the +cherished sprout that was to glorify their deeds. + +The ring of the ax resounded in the forest; the clangour of hammer and +nail, the rasp of the saw, the clatter of timber went on from dawn to +dusk,--for there was no eight-hour law in this smiling land, nor +was there any other union save that of staunch endeavour, no other +Brotherhood except that of Man. There was never a question of wage, +never a dispute as to hours, never a thought of strike. Every labourer +was worthy of his hire,--and his hire was food! + +The Doraine was gradually being dismantled. She was being stripped of +every bit of material that could be used in constructing and furnishing +the huts. The new camp lay not more than a mile and a half from the +basin. A road had been cleared through the wood from the small, hastily +constructed dock and runway on the eastern side of the basin to the open +territory beyond. + +Material, supplies, equipment were carried through the densely shaded +avenue, and later on, after the warehouses and granaries had been built, +the leafy lane witnessed the transportation of ton upon ton of stores, +patiently borne in hundredweight lots, in bushel bags, in clumsy +parcels, by men whose work seemed endless; wheat, barley, oats, sugar, +coffee and other commodities entrusted to the steamship company for +delivery in the United States. Tobacco, canned and refrigerated meats, +olives, flour, figs and dates in large quantities were included in the +vast cargo, to say nothing of the enormous supply of canned fruits and +vegetables. Washed wool, tanned leather, homespun cotton and woollen +cloth, silks, hides, furs, rugs, laces, linseed oil, blankets,--all +these came ashore in course of time, but of the sinister treasure that +had inspired the destruction of the ship, i.e., the manganese, +the rubber, the nitrates, the copper bars, and the stacks of high +explosives, not a pound was moved. All this was left for another and +more leisurely day. + +In the end, the once luxurious liner was to be reduced to “skin and +bones,” to employ a trite but eminently appropriate phrase. Ultimately +she became a black, unlovely skeleton, bereft of every vestige of her +former opulence. Her decks were torn up and the timbers hauled away to +make floors in the huts; the doors, mirrors, stairways, windows, rails, +carpets, pipes, bathtubs, toilets, lamps, every foot of woodwork from +stem to stern, berths, washbasins, kitchen ranges, boilers,--in fact, +everything that man could make use of was taken from the ship, leaving +nothing of her but a hollow, echoing shell through which the wind howled +or moaned a ghostly requiem. + +Much of this material was carefully stacked or stored away against the +day when it could be utilized in the construction of a small but sturdy +ship, in which a chosen company of sailors were to fare out to sea once +more in search of the world they had lost. + +Tireless and indomitable engineers later on succeeded in transferring +portions of the damaged machinery, including dynamos, to the camp, where +in course of time their skill and ingenuity bade fair to triumph over +seemingly insurmountable difficulties in the matter of restoration. + +Fully six weeks elapsed, however, before the women were allowed to leave +the ship for their new homes on the land, and even then they came but a +few at a time and only as huts were ready and fully equipped to receive +them. Each hut contained a combination kitchen and living-room, with a +single bedchamber. A substantial fireplace, built of stone and mortar, +with a tall chimney at the back, was a feature in every house. The +cracks between the logs, and all chinks, were sealed with thick layers +of mortar; the ceilings, made of stout saplings, were treated in a +similar manner, while the roof, resting on a sturdy ridge-pole, and +securely anchored, was of three layers of poles, interstices mortared +and the whole covered with a vast quantity of seaweed, moss and reeds +held in place by several well-fastened sections of iron railing from the +decks of the Doraine. + +While the huts were uniform in size, shape and construction, there +was nothing to prevent the occupant from subsequently enlarging and +improving his house. For the present, however, the interests of all were +best served by speed and compactness. + +The superintendent of construction was Algernon Adonis Percival. As +a matter of fact, the end of the first week found him occupying the +position of General Manager for the whole enterprise, an unsolicited +honour but one which he was resolved that no one, great or small, +should deride. He had one stormy “run-in,” as he described it, with Mr. +Landover and his group of satellites. This occurred about the middle of +their first week on the island when practically every able-bodied man +from the Doraine was at work cutting a way through the forest or in +constructing the dock at the water's edge. As the incident is entitled +to a very definite place in this narrative, a more or less extended +account of it may be given here and now, even at the risk of being +classed as a digression, or a step backward in the sequence of the +history. + +Mr. Landover, Mr. Block, Mr. Nicklestick and two or three other men +were grouped on the after-deck early one morning decrying the brainless +scheme to build a camp out there in the open. Their audience included +several women, among them Mrs. Spofford, Ruth Clinton, Madame +Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky, Mrs. Block and a couple of loquacious Rio +Janeiro ladies. + +Percival bore down upon this group. He wasted no time in getting to the +point. + +“We've been at work for two days out there, gentlemen, and up to date +not one of you has turned to with the rest of us. The understanding was +that--” + +Mr. Landover whirled on him, white with anger. “That will do!” he +exclaimed. “Clear out! I do not intend to allow any such riff-raff as +you to order me to--Oh, pray do not be alarmed, ladies! This rowdy is +not likely to assault me. Nothing will happen, I assure you. Clear out, +you bum,--do you hear me?” + +Percival was smiling. “I wish you wouldn't interrupt me, Mr. Landover. +As I was saying, it was understood that every man on this ship who is +well enough to--” + +“Can't you see that there are ladies present? Haven't you an atom of +decency about you?” + +“--understood that every man on this ship was to do his share of the +work laid out. I owe these ladies an apology for reminding you in their +presence that the boats are leaving for shore and that if you do not get +off in the next relay you will be compelled to swim to that landing over +there,--and I doubt very much whether any of you can make it.” + +“Wha-what's that?” demanded Mr. Block. + +Mr. Landover was speechless. A hard glitter came to Percival's eyes, the +smile left his lips. + +“You heard what I said, Mr. Block. I'll make it plainer, however. If you +men don't get into the next boat leaving this ship, I'm going to +have you thrown overboard and made to swim to your work. I regret +exceedingly, ladies, that I have been obliged to resort to harsh words +in your presence, but time is so precious that I can't afford to give +them a private audience.” + +“Oh, my goodness gracious!” cried Mrs. Block, twisting her fat hands in +an agony of alarm. “Maybe you better go, Moses. You vas nearly drownded +twice yet in pool at White Sulphur.” + +“This is the most outrageous, high-handed,--” began Landover, +explosively, but stopped short as Percival levelled his unlovely +forefinger at him. + +“Cut it out, Mr. Landover,--cut it out,” he snapped, inelegantly. “Now, +listen to me. For two days you and these boon companions of yours have +been loafing on the job. While the rest of us have been working like +dogs, you and your friends,--you needn't look insulted, because by the +looks of things they are your friends,--you've been sitting up here +talking to the ladies, smoking cigars, and telling every one how +successfully you conduct a bank in New York. Now, Mr. Landover, you're +not an old man. If you were, I'd be the first to suggest the easiest +sort of work for you. You are under fifty and you're a strong, healthy +man. You ride every morning in Central Park, you play golf in winter and +summer, and you're one of the men who made Muldoon famous. + +“You are able to work as the rest of us are working. Your hands are in +a much better condition than mine. If we were in New York, I would take +off my hat to you and admit that you are one of the greatest bankers in +the world, and that you know your business. But we're not in New York. +We're down here on a lonely island. You know how to build and conduct +banks, I know how to build and conduct camps. We have no use for +scientific bankers here, but we have considerable use for experienced +camp builders. I have been put in charge of this work. I'm going to see +it through. Up in the hills I got a full day's work out of my men,--and +there were worse men among them than you will ever be. There were +gunmen, knife slingers, cutthroats and bullies,--but they had to work, +just the same. Just a minute, if you please. I'm not through. I think I +appreciate your position, Mr. Landover. + +“You regard me as a four-flusher, a tramp,--maybe a thief or worse. I +am but little more than half your age and I am a person of absolutely no +importance. That's neither here nor there. I have been selected to run +this job because Captain Trigger, with Mr. Mott and virtually every +other man on this ship, believes that I know how to handle it. But even +that's neither here nor there. What I'm coming to is this. As long as +I am in charge of this job, every man, woman and child has got to do +something. Just at present there isn't much that the women and children +can do, but there is work for every man who can stand on his feet. You +needn't glare at me. I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Landover. You say you +are going to stay on this ship. Well, I've come here to tell you that +you are not going to do anything of the sort. The women and children are +to remain on board until we've got houses built for them on shore, or +until the time comes when there is work for them to do. If they choose +to come ashore occasionally it will be to watch the men work and to +cheer them up with their presence. But no man is to stay on this ship +after we've once got the real job going out there. Now you've heard my +statement, sir. I am willing to listen for a few minutes to your side of +the question. Don't all speak at once,--and please be careful, there are +ladies present.” + +While Percival did not take his eyes from Landover's face during this +speech, he was aware that Miss Clinton and her aunt had turned abruptly +away and were leaning against the rail a few yards distant, their backs +to him. Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori were regarding him with shining, +approving eyes, while Mrs. Block,--gulping furiously,--clasped her +husband's arm and kept up a constant muttering. Something told him that +Ruth Clinton and Mrs. Spofford had turned against him. + +“I have nothing to say to you,” said Landover, curtly. Turning on his +heel, he joined the two ladies at the rail. He spoke a few words to them +in a lowered tone, and then the three of them strode off without so much +as a glance at the young man. + +Percival flushed a dull red under his tan. His eyes followed them until +they disappeared around a corner. Down in his heart he hoped that Ruth +would not deny him a fleeting look of encouragement and approval. + +Landover carried himself like a soldier. He was tall, well set-up, and +almost offensively erect. He was a handsome man of perhaps forty-eight. +His cleanshaven face was firm, aggressive, domineering. There was not +a trace of grey in his dark hair. He typified strength, mentality, +shrewdness and that most essential quality in the standards of wealth +and power,--arrogance. In a word, he personified Finance. + +“Now, see here, Percival,” began Nicklestick, in a most cavalier manner, +greatly encouraged by the lofty conduct of the Money King, “you know you +can't do this sort of thing. We won't stand for it, not for a minute. We +object to this high-handed business. You got to realize that--” + +“Object and be hanged!” snapped Percival. “The next thing, you'll +be calling yourselves conscientious objectors. Well, it's no use, +Nicklestick. There's no such animal on board this Ark. I see a couple +of boats returning from shore. You've got about fifteen minutes to shed +that Stein & Bloch suit and jump into something that will never need +pressing again,--your working clothes. I'm doing you a kindness. That +gang out there won't stand for slackers. If you're wise you'll take my +word for it.” + +He was turning away when Nicklestick intercepted him. + +“What do you think they would do, Mr. Percival?” he inquired in some +agitation. “We are gentlemen. We got a right to decide for ourselves vat +we shall do. We can pay for--” + +“You will find a lot of gentlemen out there who have already decided for +themselves,--and very cheerfully, too. You will not be lonely. If you +desire any further information as to the class of labourers you will +come in contact with, Mr. Nicklestick, I would suggest a careful study +of the first cabin list, the second cabin list, and finally the third +cabin list, if you can find such a thing. You will also run up against +some excellent material from the United States Navy, to say nothing of a +fine lot of able seamen. They've adopted a common name. Do you know what +they call each other?” + +“No,” said Nicklestick, wiping his brow. “Vat--vat do they call each +other?” + +“Men,” said Percival, and walked away. + +He was followed closely by Careni-Amori and Olga Obosky, and at some +distance by the whispering, gesticulating Jews. The great soprano was +profoundly agitated. Obosky, a pace or two behind her, was tense and +silent. Her head was slightly bent. There was a strange, dog-like +expression in her eyes as they regarded the back of Percival's head. + +“But what will you do?” Careni-Amori was crying, as she clutched his +arm. “He is a great man. He is a millionaire. He owns part of this +steamship line,--so he have inform me. You will not throw him into the +water,--yes?” + +“As sure as you are a foot high, Madame Careni-Amori,” said he, grimly. + +“Oh, mon Dieu! You hear him, Obosky? He means what he have say.” + +“Be careful, my friend,” said Obosky, drawing alongside of Percival. “Do +you not see how the wind blows?” + +“What do you mean?” + +“Have you count the cost of victory? You may lose more than you will +gain.” + +Percival looked at her intently for a moment; then, in a flash, the +meaning of her words was revealed to him. + +“Even so, Madame Obosky,” he returned, his jaw setting, “I am a good +loser.” + +“The spoils do not always go to the victor,” she warned him. + +“I still have your luck-piece,” said he, smiling as he slapped his +trousers-leg. + +“It has always brought me luck,” she said, looking straight into his +eyes. “It may continue to do so, who knows? Alas for you, my friend, +you may yet have to turn to me for consolation. It is the ill-wind that +blows nobody good. Am I not shocking, Mr. Percivail?” + +They had lost Madame Careni-Amori, who was behind them, shrieking a +command through a port-hole to her maid. + +He looked at her in amazement. “I don't know what to think of you, +Madame Obosky.” Then he grinned. “Good Lord! You--you can't be making me +an offer of marriage?” + +“Heaven forbid!” she cried. “I have had all I want of marriage, my +friend. You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that again. +No, no! I do not desire to marry you, Mr. Percivail. Nothing so dreadful +as that! Suppose we would be married,--what zen? Poof! Because I am an +honest woman I would have to tell you some time zat I have had ze honour +to be once the mistress of a Crown Prince,--and then you would hold up +your holy hands and cry out, 'My God, what kind of a woman is this I +have marry?' and--Oh, but I would not tell you about zat Crown Prince +until we have been married a year or two, so do not look so pleased! +In a year you would be hating me so much zat you would rejoice to hear +about the Crown Prince, and I would be loathing you so much zat I would +probably have to kill you,--because I do not believe in divorce any more +than I believe in marriage. You see? Most women hate their husbands. +They never hate their lovers. It is so difficult to get rid of the one, +and so easy to keep the other,--zat is the explanation. So! Now you +may know zat love is the humblest thing in the world, and passion the +noblest, for love is for the weak while passion is for the strong. Love +is easily deceived, passion never. Love endures, passion conquers. Love +is blind, passion is sight itself. Love rules the world, but passion +rules love. Love consents, passion demands. Love is law, passion is +life. I could go on forever, but I see you do not like my discourse. Zat +is because you are already in love, my friend. Poof! You will get over +that!” She laughed. + +Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the same +time his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting the +honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There was no +denying the physical appeal of the lithe, sinuous Russian; there was no +gainsaying the call of the blood. On the other hand, the American girl +stood for everything his own mother exemplified in flesh and spirit. + +As it is with all men, he was absolutely incapable of associating +passion with the mother who bore him, or with sisters who marry and give +them nieces and nephews to adore. It was impossible, utterly impossible +that they should have possessed the instincts of this woman beside +him. But even as the thought raced through his mind he experienced the +sudden, almost staggering realization that after all the chief, probably +the only difference between his women and Olga Obosky was that they were +good! + +“Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?” he inquired, his eyes +hardening. + +“Yes,” she said calmly. “But not now. When you have more time, my +friend. I shall be very much interested to hear what you think of me. In +the meantime, I am troubled for you. You are in love with her,--oh, yes, +you are,--and I am very much afraid zat you will lose her if you are +not careful. I am your friend. Be warned in time, Mr. Percivail. She is +sorry for him. Landover. You have humiliated him before all of us. He is +the friend of her family. Go slow, my friend, or she will turn against +you and you will lose her. You have still a good chance. She is more +nearly in love with you than she suspects. A little good judgment on +your part, my friend, and you will win. She will marry you, and when +she have done so, zen you may with impunity toss Mr. Landover in the +sea,--but not now, my friend, not now.” + +“By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky,” he exclaimed, frankly +puzzled. “I can't make you out at all.” + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +“Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very wise, +Mr. Percivail,” she returned, with a smile. “Au revoir!” + +Percival went straight to Captain Trigger. + +“See here, Captain,” he said at once, “I'm up against it with Landover. +He refuses to take orders from me. I don't want to do anything drastic +without consulting you. If you say I'm to let him off, that's the end +of it so far as I'm concerned. Of course, I can't answer for the rest +of the crowd. But if you say I am to go ahead along the line originally +laid out, I'll do it.” + +Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with anxiety, +rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across the basin. +Then he turned to the young man. + +“Mr. Landover is one of the owners of this steamship line, Percival.” + +“So I understand, sir.” + +“He notified me this morning that he will see that I am dismissed from +the service if I continue to support this silly, suicidal plan to build +a camp on shore.” + +“Yes, sir. And you?” + +“I promptly tendered my resignation as master of this vessel,” answered +the Captain. + +“You did?” cried Percival, dismayed. + +“To take effect when I have tied her safely up to her pier in New York,” + said the old man, striking the rail with his fist. + +“Great!” cried Percival. + +“He has just come to me with the complaint that you have threatened to +throw him overboard. Is that true, Percival?” + +“Yes, sir,--in a way. I mentioned an alternative.” + +“Mr. Landover is no better than any of the rest of us. You will proceed +to throw him overboard, Percival, if he refuses to do his share of the +work.” + +Percival gulped, and then saluted. + +“Orders, sir?” + +“Orders!” + +The young man started away, but the Captain called him back. + +“What are you going to do after you have had him thrown into the water?” + +“Why, dammit all,” exclaimed Percival, “what can I do but jump in and +save his life? You don't suppose I'd let him drown, do you? And, God +knows, nobody else would save it. They want to tar and feather him, as +it is, or lynch him, or make him walk the plank.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The first of the two boats came alongside, and men began to go clumsily, +even fearfully down the ladders. Throughout the early stages of activity +on shore, the passengers and crew went out in shifts, so to speak. +Percival and others experienced in construction work had learned that +efficiency and accomplishment depend entirely upon the concentration +of force, and so, instead of piling hundreds of futile men on shore to +create confusion, they adopted the plan of sending out daily detachments +of fifty or sixty, to work in regular rotation until all available +man power had been broken in and classified according to fitness and +strength. For example, certain men developed into capable wood-choppers, +while others were useless in that capacity. Each successive draft, +therefore, had its choppers, its strippers, its haulers, its “handy +men,”--and its water-boys. Moreover, this systematic replacement of +toilers made it possible for those who were not accustomed to hard, +manual labour to recover from the unusual tax on strength and endurance. + +It should be explained, however, that this system was not applied to +individuals selected for the purpose of exploration and research. Four +parties, well-armed and equipped, were sent out to explore both sections +of the island. These expeditions had numerous objects in view: to +determine, if possible, whether the island had ever been visited +or occupied by man; to determine the character of the fruits and +vegetables; extent and variety of animal life; the natural food +resources, etc. The groups were made up of men familiar with nature +in the rough. Lieutenant Platt headed one group, Professor Flattner +another, a Bolivian ranchman and an English horse buyer the remaining +two. + +Abel Landover was to have gone out with the first day's shift to work +on the road through the wood. He refused point-blank to leave the ship. +This state of affairs lasted through the next two days, the banker +stubbornly ignoring the advice and finally the commands of Captain +Trigger. In the meantime he had been joined in his rebellion,--a word +used here for want of a milder one,--by half a dozen gentlemen who did +a great deal of talking about how the Turks were maltreating the +Armenians, but, for fear of being suspected of pro-Germanism, studiously +avoided pre-war dissertations on the conduct of the Russians. + +The first shift's turn had come around once more in the natural order +of things, and practically all of the men had been landed. Landover +had refused to go out with either of the other shifts. He had stood +his ground obstinately. Percival's ultimatum, sweeping like wildfire +throughout the ship's company, brought nearly every one on board to the +rails to see whether he would carry out his threat. Would he dare throw +the great capitalist, this mighty Croesus, this autocrat, into the sea? + +The first boat carried off Nicklestick, Block, Shine and the other +objectors. Landover was in his stateroom. + +“Just a minute,” called out Percival to the oarsmen, as they waited for +him to take his place in the last boat. “We're shy a man, I see.” His +eye ranged the deck. His face was a sickly yellow. It would have been +white save for the tan. “Where is Landover?” he demanded of the crowd. + +Some one answered: “He went to his cabin a couple of minutes ago,” and +another volunteered: “It's Number 9 on the promenade deck.” + +Half a minute later Percival rapped peremptorily on the door of Number +9. + +“We're waiting for you, Mr. Landover,” he called out. + +“Wait and be damned,” came strongly from the stateroom. “The door is +unlocked. If you put a foot inside this room, I'll shoot you like a +dog.” + +“You will have the satisfaction of killing a mighty good dog,” said +Percival, and threw the door wide open. He did not enter the room, +however. Standing just outside the door, he faced the banker. Landover +stood in the centre of the luxurious cabin, a revolver in his hand. + +“I mean exactly what I say, Percival. I will shoot the instant you put a +foot through that door.” + +“I don't believe you would,” said Percival, “but, just the same, I'm not +going to chance it. If I ever conclude to commit suicide, I'll go off +somewhere and blow my brains out with my own gun. At present, I have no +thought of committing suicide, so I'll stay right where I am. I didn't +come here to kill you, Mr. Landover. I have no gun with me. I simply +came to tell you that the last boat is leaving, and we are waiting for +you.” + +For many seconds the two men looked straight into each other's eyes. + +“Are you coming?” demanded the young man levelly. + +“Certainly not!” + +Percival's shoulders sagged. His face wore an expression of complete +surrender. + +“Well,--if you won't, I suppose you won't,” he muttered. + +A triumphant sneer greeted this abject back-down on the part of the +would-be dictator. + +“I thought so,” exclaimed Landover. “You're yellow. You can bully these +poor, ignorant--” + +He never finished the sentence. Percival cleared the eight or nine feet +of intervening space with the lunge of a panther. His solid, compact +body struck Landover with the force of a battering ram. Before the +larger and heavier man could fire a shot, his wrist was caught in a +grip of steel. As he staggered back under the impact, Percival's right +fore-arm was jammed up under his chin. In the fraction of a second, +Landover, unable to withstand this sudden, savage onslaught, toppled +over backwards and, with his assailant clinging to him like a wildcat, +found himself pinned down to the spacious, inset washstand. + +The revolver was discharged, the bullet burying itself in the floor. An +instant later the weapon fell from his paralysed fingers. With his free +left hand he struck wildly, frantically at Percival, but with no effect. +The broad back and shoulders of his assailant proved a barrier he could +not drive past. And that rigid, merciless right arm, as hard as a bar of +steel, was pressing relentlessly against his throat, crushing, choking +the life out of him. He was a strong, vigorous man, but he was helpless +in the grasp of this tigerish young fighter from the slopes of the +Andes. He heard Percival's voice, panting in his ear. + +“I can keep this up longer than you can. I don't want to break your +neck,--do you understand? I don't want to break your neck, Landover, but +if you don't give in, I'll--I'll--” The pressure slackened perceptibly. +“Say it! Now's your chance. Say you've--got enough!” + +Landover managed to gasp out the word. He could still feel his eyes +starting from his head, his tongue seemed to fill his mouth completely. + +Percival released him instantly and fell back a yard or so, ready, +however, to spring upon his man again at the first sign of treachery. No +more than sixty seconds elapsed between the beginning and the end of the +encounter. It was all over in the twinkling of an eye, so to speak. In +fact, it was over so quickly that the first man to reach the door after +the report of the revolver rang out, found the two men facing each +other, one coughing and clutching at his throat, the other erect and +menacing. For the first time, Percival took his eyes from the purplish +face of the banker. They fell first upon a head and pair of shoulders +that blocked one of the two port-holes. He recognized the countenance of +Soapy Shay, the thief. To his amazement, Soapy grinned and then winked +at him! + +“The boat is ready to leave, Landover,” said the victor briskly. “We +have no more use for this thing at present,” he went on, shoving the +revolver under the berth with the toe of his boot. The banker stared +past him at the agitated group in the corridor. The man was trembling +like a leaf, not so much from fear as from the effects of the tremendous +physical shock. + +Percival was a generous foe. He experienced a sudden pity,--a rush of +consideration for the other's feelings. He saw the tears of rage +and mortification well up in the eyes of the banker, he heard the +half-suppressed sob that broke from his lips. Whirling, he ordered the +crowd away from the door. “It's all right,” he said. “Please leave us.” + He addressed Soapy Shay. “Beat it, you!” + +Soapy saluted with mock servility. “Aye, aye, sir. I saw the whole show. +It was certainly worth the price of admission.” Having delivered himself +of that graceful acknowledgment, he effaced himself. + +“Just a word or two, Mr. Landover,” said Percival as the crowd shuffled +away from the door. “I am sorry this had to happen. Even now I am not +sure that you fully understand the situation. You may still be inclined +to resist. You are not in the habit of submitting to force, reason or +justice. I am only asking you, however, to recognize the last of these. +You will be happier in the end. I don't give a hang how much you hate +me, nor how far you may go to depose me. I don't want your friendship +any more than I want your enmity. I can get along very nicely without +either. But that isn't the point. At present I am in charge of a gang of +workmen. Every man on this ship belongs to that gang, you with the rest. +I ask you to look at the matter fairly, honestly, open-mindedly. You +accuse me of being high-handed. I return the charge. It's you who are +high-handed. You set yourself above your fellow-unfortunates. You refuse +to abide by the will of the majority. I represent the majority. I am +not acting for myself, but for them. God knows, I am not looking for +trouble. This job isn't one that I would have chosen voluntarily. But +now that it has been thrust upon me, I have no other alternative than to +see it through. You ought to be man enough, you ought to be fair enough +to see it in that light. If conditions were reversed, Mr. Landover, and +you were in my place, I would be the last to oppose you, because I +have learned in a very tough school that it pays to live up to the +regulations. Everywhere else in the world it is a question of capital +and labour. Here it is a question of labour alone. There is no such +thing as capital. Socialism is forced upon us, the purest kind of +socialism, for even the socialist can't get rich at the expense of his +neighbour. But I'm beginning to lecture again. Let's get down to cases. +Are you prepared to go out peaceably,--I'll not say willingly,--and do +your share on the job as long as you are physically able?” + +“I submit to brute force. There is no other course left open to me,” + said Landover hoarsely. + +“Very well, then. Come along,--we're wasting valuable time here.” + +“I will follow you in a few minutes.” + +“You will come now,” said Percival levelly. “You and I, Mr. Landover, +are jointly concerned in the establishment of a very definite order of +discipline. We represent the two extremes.” He stood aside. “Precede me, +if you please.” + +After a moment's hesitation, the other lifted his chin and walked past +the young man. The corridors were clear. Percival followed close behind. +He kept up a glib, one-sided conversation. + +“You see, there was no other way to handle you. I was obliged to resort +to punitive measures. That's always the case when you are dealing with +sensible, intelligent, educated men. It is impossible to reason with an +intelligent, educated man. He invariably has opinions, ideas, viewpoints +of his own. He is mentally equipped to resist any kind of an argument. +Take our United States Senators, our Congressmen, even our Presidents. +You can't reason with them. No doubt you've tried it a thousand times, +you and the other capitalists. We've all tried it. You've got to hit 'em +on the head with some sort of a club or big stick if you want to bring +'em to time. You have to club them to death at the polls, so to speak. +Now, you take these wops. They can't argue. They haven't got that sort +of intelligence. They're considerably like the common or garden variety +of dog. No matter how much you beat them and scold them, you can always +get along with them if you feed them and let them see that you're +not afraid of them. If they once get an idea that you are afraid of +them,--well, it's all off. They begin to be sensible right away, and +then they form a labour union. And the more sensible and intelligent +they become, the easier it is for the labour leaders, the walking +delegates, and blood-sucking agitators to make fools of 'em. It's all a +matter of leadership, Mr. Landover, as you will admit, any way you look +at it. Well, here we are.” + +Landover paused before starting down the ladder to the boat. He turned +to address Percival in a loud, clear voice. + +“You will not long be in a position to browbeat and bully the rest +of us, young man. Your reign will be short. I would like my +fellow-passengers to know that I have never refused to work with them. +I have merely declined to work under an outlaw. Life is as dear to me +as it is to any one else on this ship. I am taking this step against +my will, rather than subject myself to further indignities and the +cruelties you would inflict if I held out against you. I am sorry to +deprive you of the spectacular hit you might have made by throwing me +into the sea, a treat which you doubtless led all of these people to +expect.” + +He climbed down the ladder and dropped into the boat. As he took his +seat, he ran his eye along the line of faces above. Finding the persons +he sought, he smiled, shook his head slowly to signify a state of +resignation, and then set his flushed, angry face toward the land. + +Percival, following him, did not look up at the row of faces. + +Careni-Amori sang that evening in the main saloon. Signer Joseppi, tired +and sore after his hard day's work, wept, and after weeping as +publicly as possible created a profound sensation by kissing the great +prima-donna in full view of the applauding spectators. Then, to cap +the climax, he proclaimed in a voice charged with emotion that Madame +Careni-Amori never had sung better in all her life! This to an artist +who had the rare faculty for knowing when she was off the key,--and who +knew that she was very badly off on this particular occasion. + +Percival was standing near the door as Ruth Clinton and her aunt left +the saloon on the way to their rooms. He joined them after a moment's +hesitation. The two ladies bowed coldly to him. He was the essence of +decision. As usual, he went straight to the point. + +“I can't take back what I did this morning, and I wouldn't if I could,” + he said, falling in beside Mrs. Spofford. “I know you are displeased +with me. Can't we thresh it out now, Mrs. Spofford?” + +The elder woman raised her chin and stared at him coldly. He shot a +glance past her at the girl's face. There was no encouragement to be +found in the calm, unsmiling eyes. + +“I fail to see precisely why we should thresh anything out with you, Mr. +Percival,” replied Mrs. Spofford. + +“It is barely possible that you are not quite clear as to my motives, +and therefore unable to gauge my actions.” + +“I understand your motives perfectly,--and I approve of them. Your +actions are not so acceptable. Good-night, Mr. Percival.” + +He smiled whimsically at Ruth. “My left hand is rather in need of +attention, Miss Clinton. I suppose I am so deeply in your bad graces +that I may not hope for--er--the same old kindness?” + +She stopped short. “Is this a request or a command? Mr. Percival, I will +be quite frank with you. Mr. Landover is our friend. I am not, however, +defending him in the position he has taken. There is no reason why he +should not do his share with the rest of the men. But was it necessary +to humiliate him, was it necessary to insult him as you did this +morning? He is a distinguished man. He--” + +“Are you coming, Ruth?” demanded Mrs. Spofford, sharply. + +“In just a moment, Aunt Julia.” + +“You will oblige me by coming with me at once. We have nothing more to +say to this young man.” + +“I have asked him a question. I shall wait for his answer.” + +“I will answer it, Miss Clinton, by saying it was necessary,” said +he steadily. “There are other distinguished men here who are further +distinguishing themselves by toeing the mark without complaint or cavil. +Mr. Landover was appealed to on three distinct occasions by Captain +Trigger and the committee. He ignored all private appeals--and commands. +The time had come for a show-down. It was either Landover and his little +band of sycophants, or me and the entire company of men on this ship. +It may interest you to know that you and Mrs. Spofford are the only two +people on board, outside of Mr. Landover's retrievers, who blame me for +what I did this morning.” + +“You can hardly expect me to be interested in what other people think of +my position, Mr. Percival,” she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. + +“No more, I dare say, than Landover cares what they think of his,” was +his retort. + +She lifted her chin. “I am beginning to appreciate Mr. Landover's +attitude toward you, Mr. Percival,” she said icily. + +“And to justify it, I suppose,” he said dejectedly. “I want your +friendship, Miss Clinton,--yes, I want a great deal more than your +friendship. You may as well know it. I'm not asking for it,--I'm +just telling you. Please don't go away. I promise not to make myself +ridiculous. You have been good to me, you have been wonderful. I--I +can't bear the thought of losing your friendship or your respect. I just +had to bring Landover to time. You may think there was some other way, +but I do not. At any rate, it isn't a matter that we can discuss. Some +day you may admit that I was right, but I don't believe I will ever see +the day when I will admit that I was wrong. Won't--can't we be friends?” + +“I do not believe I can ever feel the same toward you after witnessing +what I did this morning,” said she, shaking her head. “You deliberately, +intentionally degraded Mr. Landover in the presence of others. Was that +the act of a gentleman? No! It was the act of an overbearing, arrogant +bully who had nothing to fear. You took advantage of your authority +and of the fact that he is so rich and powerful that he is practically +without a friend or champion. You knew only too well that ninety-nine +per cent of the people on board this ship were behind you in your attack +on him because he represents capital! You had nothing to fear. No, Mr. +Percival, I don't believe we can be friends. I am sorry.” + +“You heard what Mr. Landover said to me this morning, Miss Clinton,” + said he, paling. “You heard what he called me. Do you believe these +things of me?” + +She was silent for a moment. “No, I do not,” she replied slowly. “I +believe that you are all you have represented yourself to be.” + +“Thank you,” he said, with gentle dignity. “I am sorry if I have +distressed you this evening. Please don't think too harshly of me when +I say that I just had to find out how we stand, you and I. Now that I +know, I can only promise not to bother you again, and you may rely on my +promises. I never break them. Good-night, Miss Clinton.” + +He bowed to Mrs. Spofford, who ignored him, and then to Ruth, a wistful +smile struggling to his lips and eyes as he did so. As he turned away, +she spoke to him. + +“You mentioned your hand being bad again. If you would like me to dress +it for you,--under the circumstances,--I will do so.” + +“Ruth!” cried Mrs. Spofford in a shocked voice. + +He put his left hand behind his back. It was the one with which he +had gripped Landover's wrist that morning. The strain had reopened the +partially healed wounds. + +“I injured it this morning in an encounter with your friend, Miss +Clinton. I can hardly ask you to dress it. Thank you, just the same.” + +“I know all that happened in Mr. Landover's cabin, but even so, I am +ready and willing to do anything in my power to ease the pain you are +suffering.” She spoke calmly, dispassionately, almost perfunctorily. + +He shook his head. “I shouldn't have spoken of it,” he said. “It isn't +so bad that I can't fix it up myself. Good-night.” + +She joined her aunt and they made their way in silence to the latter's +stateroom. It was not until after the door was safely locked that Mrs. +Spofford delivered herself of the thought that had been in her mind the +whole length of the slanting corridor. + +“I hope he will not take advantage of his position to--to bully us--to +bully you, dearest,--he might, you know. He has shown himself to be +perfectly capable of it. And we are so defenceless. No one but Abel +Landover to look to for help if he,--for, of course, no one else would +dare oppose this lawless young,--oh, you need not smile! He has the +power and it is quite plain now that he intends to exercise it. He will +brook no interference--” + +“I am not afraid of Mr. Percival, Aunt Julia,” said the girl, sitting +down wearily on the edge of the berth. “He is a gentleman.” + +“A--a gentleman?” gasped Mrs. Spofford. “Good gracious!” + +“He will not annoy me,” said Ruth, absently study-ing the tips of her +slim, shapely shoes. “Possess your soul in peace. I think I know him.” + +“Are you defending the braggart?” + +“Not at all! I detest him,” cried the girl, springing to her feet, her +face crimsoning. “He is perfectly abominable.” + +“I--I wouldn't speak quite so loudly, my dear,” cautioned her aunt, +glancing at the door uneasily--“It would be like him to listen outside +the door,--or at any rate, one of his men may have been set to spy +upon--” + +“Don't be silly, Aunt Julia. And don't be afraid. Mr. Percival isn't +going to make us walk the plank for mutiny, or put us in chains,--or +outrage us,--if that is what you are thinking. Now, go to bed, you old +dear, and--” + +“I insist on your staying in my room, Ruth. He is in love with you.” + +“He can be in love with me and still be a gentleman, can't he, Aunt +Julia? Don't worry! I shall sleep in my own room. I may even go so far +as to leave my door unlocked.” + +“What! And if he should come to--” + +“Ah, I shan't send him word that it's unlocked, dear,” scoffed Ruth, +finding a malicious enjoyment in her aunt's dismay. “Good-night. Sleep +tight! We must sleep while we have the opportunity, you know. Our lazy +days will soon be over. He says we've all got to work like,--I think he +said dogs.” + +“Oh, dear me. I,--I wonder what is to become of us?” moaned the wretched +lady. “After what he tried to do to Abel Landover, there is no telling +to what lengths he may go in--By the way, has Mr. Landover reported to +Captain Trigger that the fellow attempted to shoot him this morning?” + +“Of course not, Aunt Julia.” + +“Well, I think it is his duty to do so. Captain Trigger should take +drastic means to curb this--” + +“You forget that Mr. Landover maintains that Captain Trigger and all +the other officers are like putty in the hands of Mr. Percival. I am +beginning to believe it myself. He--he has got them all hypnotized.” + +“He hasn't got me hypnotized!” exclaimed Mrs. Spofford. + +“In any case, he is in the saddle,” sighed Ruth. + +“He deliberately tried to kill Mr. Landover,” said the other. “Is +nothing to be done about it? We heard the shot,--every one heard it. And +no one has the courage to say a word about it! What a lot of cowards we +are! I don't see why he refuses to let me take the matter up with the +Captain. Captain Trigger ought to know the truth.” + +Ruth was silent for a moment or two. “It's hard for me to believe, Aunt +Julia, that he would attack a defenceless man with a revolver. It--it +doesn't seem like him.” + +“But you have Abel Landover's word for it, Ruth. The bullet grazed his +head. The coward would have killed him most certainly if he had not +succeeded in knocking the pistol out of his hand and overpowering him.” + +“If I did not believe Mr. Landover to be an absolutely truthful, +honourable man, I--” began Ruth, a little furrow between her eyebrows, +“well, I might still believe a little in Mr. Percival.” + +“And what chance had poor Landover with that highwayman, or whatever he +is, pointing a revolver at him through the porthole and threatening to +blow his brains out if he did not throw up his hands and let Percival +alone?” + +Olga Obosky bandaged Percival's hand. She intercepted him on his way to +Dr. Cullen's cabin. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +During the days and weeks that followed, Percival maintained an +attitude of rigid but courteous aloofness. Only on occasions when it was +necessary to consult with Ruth and her aunt on matters pertaining to +the “order of the day” did he relax in the slightest degree from the +position he had taken in regard to them. + +In time, the captious Mrs. Spofford began to resent this studied +indifference. She detested him more than ever for not running true to +the form she had predicted; her apprehensiveness gave way to irritation. +She resented his dignified, pleasant “good mornings”; she complained +acidly to Ruth about what she was now pleased to describe as “disgusting +superciliousness.” + +The truth of the matter was, he failed to take any account whatsoever +of Mrs. Spofford in his calculations; he did not even make a pretence +of consulting her in matters relating to the common good of the common +people, and as she was in the habit of devoting a considerable portion +of her time, energy and executive ability to the interests of the common +or lower class people, the omission was an insult. + +Nor was his cause benefited by the unnecessary and uncalled for +deference he seemed to feel was due her on account of her age. What had +her age to do with it? No one had ever deferred to her age in New York? +She was one to be reckoned with, she was accustomed to the deference +that hasn't anything at all to do with age. And here she was, shunted +to one side, ignored, disregarded,--she who had been the brains and +inspiration of a dozen charitable enterprises, to say nothing of +war-work and very important activities in opposition to Woman Suffrage! + +She found little consolation in Landover's contention that the upstart +was bound to hang himself if they gave him rope enough, or in Ruth's +patient reminder that Percival was getting results,--and getting them +without bullying anybody. + +Ruth accepted the situation with a calmness that exasperated her aunt. +She announced her intention to obey any order the “boss” might issue, +without recrimination, without complaint. And so, when the day came +for her to go forth with other women to do her share of the cooking, +washing, cleaning, and later on the more interesting task of putting the +huts in order for occupancy, she went with a full understanding of what +was required of her and without a word of protest. The women with whom +she toiled from early morn till sombre dusk draped the land were under +the immediate direction of a stewardess of many years experience, an +Englishwoman whose husband, an engineer, had been killed at the time of +the explosions. + +Each night she returned to the ship tired and sore but uncomplaining. +Her strong young body stood the test with the hardiest; her spirit was +unflinching; her heart in the common cause. For she looked ahead with +a clear, far-seeing eye, and saw not one but many winters in this vast, +unguarded prison. And she wondered,--wondered day and night,--what was +ahead of her. + +She was young. The young do not dream of death. They dream of life, +and of its fullness. What did fate have in store for her? Sometimes she +crimsoned, sometimes she paled as she looked ahead. + +Bare-armed, her heavy sport skirt caught up with pins, her bonny brown +hair loosely coiled, thick golf stockings and sturdy shoes covering her +legs and feet, she presented a figure that caused more than one heart to +thump, more than one head to turn, more than one pair of eyes to follow +her as she went about her work. Her cheeks and throat and breast and +arms were browning under the fire of the noonday sun, her eyes glowed +with the fervour of enthusiasm; her voice was ever cheerful and her +smile, though touched with the blight that lay upon the soul of all these +castaways, was unfailingly bright. And when she returned “home” at night +from her wageless day of toil, she slept as she never had slept before. + +Her aunt worked in what was known as the salvage corps. She was one of +the clerks employed in checking out the cargo and other materials seized +by the committee of ten, as the leaders in this singular enterprise were +called. Captain Trigger having protested against the dismantling of the +vessel and the confiscation of its cargo,--which was as far as he could +go,--announced that he would abide by any satisfactory plan to salvage +the property. He required an official, documentary report, however, in +which every item removed was accounted for, with its condition and value +set down and sworn to by responsible persons. The purser, Mr. Codge, and +First Officer Mott represented the Captain in this operation, while the +consignees were properly taken care of by Michael O'Malley Malone, +the lawyer, James K. Jones, the promoter, and Moses Block, the rubber +importer. It is unnecessary to deal further with this feature of +the situation. Suffice it to say, the transaction,--if it may be so +denoted,--was managed with the utmost regularity and formality. Elderly +men and women were chosen for the clerical work which this rather +laborious undertaking entailed. + +On the crest of the loftiest hill there was established a permanent +observation and signal station. Near the top a sort of combination +dug-out and shanty was constructed by order of Captain Trigger, and +day and night, week in and week out, watches were kept similar to those +maintained on board ship. + +While the entire company, high and low, worked with a zeal that +eventually resulted in a state of good-natured though intense rivalry +in skill and accomplishment,--while they were generally cheerful and +courageous,--there was a profound lack of gaiety. In the eyes of each +and every one of them lay the never-vanishing shadow of anxiety,--an +eternal unspoken question. The hardest, fiercest faces wore a wistful +expression; the broadest smile revealed a touch of sadness. Over all, +however, the surpassing spirit of kindness and generosity presided. + +Calamity had softened the hearts in the same crucible that hardened the +hands. The arrogance of the strong mellowed into consideration for the +weak; wisdom and culture went hand in hand with ignorance and brawn; +malice and rancour left the hearts of the lowly and met half-way the +departing insolence of the lofty; fellowship took root and throve in a +field rich with good deeds. The heart of man was master here, the brain +its humble servant. + +Landover worked hard, doggedly. To all outward appearances, he had +resigned himself to the inevitable. He affected a spirit of camaraderie +and good humour that deceived many. Down in his heart, however, he +was bitterly rebellious. He despised these people as a class. In his +estimation, all creatures who worked for a living were branded with the +obnoxious iron of socialism; he even went so far as to believe that they +were, after a fashion, anarchists! His conception of anarchy was rather +far-reaching; it took in everything that was contrary to his notion of +a satisfactory distribution of wealth. He believed that every man who +worked for a wage was at heart an enemy to law and order. He regarded +the wage-earner as one whose hand is eternally against the employer, +absolutely without honour, justice or reason. The workingman was for +self, always for self,--and to Landover that was anarchy. + +The thought that people,--men and women,--of the lower classes possessed +physical and mental qualities similar to those possessed by himself, +even in a modified form, was not only repugnant to him but incredible. +They had none of the finer emotions,--such as love, for instance. He +could not conceive of a labouring man loving his wife and children; +it wasn't natural! He pictured the home-life of the lower classes as +nothing short of indecent; there couldn't be anything fine or noble or +enduring in the processes of birth, existence and death as related to +them. Nature took its course with them, and society,--as represented by +the class to which he belonged,--provided for the litters they cast +upon the world. In a word, Abel Landover's father and grandfather and +great-grandfather had been rich men before him. + +He despised Captain Trigger for the simple reason that that faithful, +gallant sailor was an employee of the company in which he was a +director. It meant nothing to him that Captain Trigger came of fine, +hardy, valiant stock; it meant less to him that he was a law unto +himself aboard the Doraine. For, when all was said and done, Captain +Trigger worked for just so much money per month and doubtless hated the +men who paid him his wage. On board the Doraine,--as was the case with +all other vessels on which he chose to sail,--the banker sat at the +Captain's table. But he did not consider that to be a distinction or an +honour; it was his due. As a matter of fact, he looked upon himself as +the real head of the Captain's table! + +Half a dozen persons in all that company comprised Landover's circle of +desirables. Of the rest, most of them were impossible, three-fourths +of them were “anarchists,” all of them were beneath notice,--except +as listeners. As for Percival, if that young man was not literally and +actually a bandit, at least he had all the instincts of one. In any +case, he was a “bum.” Whenever Mr. Landover was at a loss for a word to +express contumely for his fellow-man,--and he was seldom at a loss,--he +called him a “bum.” + +The women on board were divided into three classes in Landover's worldly +opinion: the kind you would marry (rare), the kind you wouldn't marry +(plentiful), and the kind you wouldn't have to marry (common). He put +Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori in this rather extensive third class, and +even went so far as to set what he considered a fair value upon them as +human commodities! + +He worked with the gang of “log-toters,” a term supplied by Percival. +They were the men who carried or dragged the trimmed tree-trunks from +the forest to the camp site, where they were subsequently hewn into +shape for structural purposes by the more skilful handlers of ax and +wedge and saw. + +A certain man named Manuel Crust was the fore-man of this gang. He was +a swarthy, powerful “Portugee” who was on his way to Rio to kill the pal +who had run away with his wife. He was going up there to kill Sebastian +Cabral and live happily for ever afterward. His idea of future happiness +was to sit by the fireside in his declining years and pleasantly +ruminate over the variety of deaths he had inflicted upon the loathsome +Sebastian. In the first place, he was going to strangle him with his +huge, gnarled hands; then he was going to cut off his ears and nose and +stuff them into the vast slit he had made in his throat; then he would +dig his heart out with a machete; then, one by one, he would expertly +amputate his legs, arms and tongue; afterwards he would go through the +grisly process of disemboweling him; and, then, in the end, he would +build a nice, roaring fire and destroy what remained of Sebastian. +Inasmuch as either of these sanguinary and successive measures might +reasonably be expected to produce the desired result, it will be seen +that Sebastian was doomed to experience at least six horrific deaths +before the avenger got through with him. At any rate, if one could +believe Manuel,--and there seemed to be no end of conviction in the +way he expressed himself,--the luckless home-wrecker, if he lived long +enough, was absolutely certain to die. + +Landover took a strange fancy to Manuel Crust. He was drawn to him in +the first place by the blasphemous things he said about Percival. In the +second place, he enjoyed Manuel's vituperative remarks about cutting the +liver out of the “boss.” Notwithstanding the fact that Manuel was +more or less given to cutting the livers out of remote and invisible +persons,--including King Alfonso, the Kaiser, Queen Victoria (he didn't +know she was dead), King Manuel, the Czar of Russia, the Presidents +of all the South American republics, the Sultan of Turkey, President +Roosevelt, and Sebastian Cabral,--Mr. Landover positively loved to hear +him talk. He made a point of getting him to talk about Percival a great +deal of the time. He also liked the way in which the prodigious Manuel +deferred to him. It inspired the philanthropic motives that led him to +share his very excellent cigars with the doughty foreman. Moreover, he +had something far back in his mind, had Mr. Abel Landover. + +Percival was indefatigable. He set the example for every one else, and +nothing daunted him. The sceptics,--and there were many of them at the +start,--no longer shook their heads as they went about what once +had loomed as a hopeless enterprise, for to their astonishment and +gratification the “camp” was actually becoming a substantial reality. + +The small group of men who, for obvious reasons, had courted the favour +of Abel Landover at the outset, now went out of their way to “stand in” + with the amazingly popular man of the hour. + +He represented power, he stood for achievement, he rode on the crest of +the wave,--and so they believed in him! Landover may have been a wizard +in New York, but the wizard of Trigger Island was quite another person +altogether,--hence the very sensible defection. + +These gentlemen openly and ardently opposed him on one occasion, +however. It was when he proposed that the island should be named for +the beloved Captain. They insisted that it be called Percival Island. +Failing in this, they advocated with great enthusiasm, but with no +success, the application of Percival's name to almost every noticeable +peculiarity that the island possessed. They objected fiercely to +the adoption of such titles as these: Mott Haven (the basin); Split +Mountain; Gray Ridge (after the lamented Chief Engineer); Penguin Rocks; +The Gate of the Winds; Top o' the Morning Peak; Dismal Forest (west of +the channel); Peter Pan Wood (east of the channel); Good Luck Channel; +Cypress Point; Cape Sunrise (the extreme easterly end of the island); +Leap-frog River; Little Sandy and Big Sandy (the beaches); Cracko-day +Farm; New Gibraltar (the western end of the island); St. Anthony Falls. +Michael O'Malley Malone christened the turbulent little waterfall up in +the hills. He liked the sound of the name, he claimed, and besides it +was about time the stigma of shame that had so long rested upon the poor +old saint was rewarded by complete though belated vindication. + +Strange to say, no name was ever proposed for the “camp.” Back in the +mind of each and every member of the lost company lay the unvoiced +belief,--amounting to superstition,--that it would be tempting fate to +speak of this long row of cabins as anything more enduring than “the +camp.” + +Notwithstanding his dominant personality and the remarkable capacity +he had for real leadership, Percival was a simple, sensitive soul. He +writhed under the lash of conspicuous adulation, and there was a good +deal of it going on. + +The satiric Randolph Fitts, notwithstanding his unquestioned admiration +for the younger man, took an active delight in denouncing what he was +prone to allude to as Percival's political aspirations. It is only fair +to state that Fitts confined his observations to a very small coterie of +friends, chief among whom was the subject himself. + +“You are the smartest politician I've ever encountered, and that's +saying a good deal,” he remarked one evening as he sat smoking with a +half dozen companions in front of one of the completed huts. They were +ranged in a row, like so many birds, their tired backs against the +“facade” of the cabin, their legs stretched out in front of them. +“You're too deep for me. I don't see just what your game is, A. A. If +there was a chance to graft, I'd say that was it, but you could graft +here for centuries and have nothing to show for it but fresh air. +Even if you were to run for the office of king, or sultan or shah, you +wouldn't get anything but votes,--and you'd get about all of 'em, I'll +say that for you. To a man, the women would vote for you,--especially if +you were to run for sultan. What is your game?” + +Percival smoked in silence, his gaze fixed on the moonlit line of trees +across the field. + +“And speaking of women, that reminds me,” went on Fitts. “When does my +lord and master intend to transplant our crop of ladies?” + +“What's that, Fitts?” said Percival, called out of his dream. + +“Ladies,--what about 'em? When do they come ashore to occupy the +mansions we have prepared for them?” + +“Captain Trigger suggests next week.” + +“What's he got to do with it? Ain't you king?” + +“He's got a lot to do with it, you blithering boob.” + +“Besides,” drawled Peter Snipe, the novelist, picking doggedly at the +calloused ridges on one of his palms, “some of the women object to +moving in the dark of the moon. They say it's sure to bring bad luck.” + +“There's quite a mixup about it,” observed Flattner. “Part of 'em claim +it's good luck. Madame Obosky says she never had any good luck moving by +the light of the moon, and Careni-Amori says she doesn't blame her for +feeling that way. Sort of cattish way of implying that the fair Olga +could get along without any moon at all. Professional jealousy, I +suppose.” + +“I was speaking to Miss Clinton about it today,” remarked Michael +Malone. + +“What does she think about it?” from Percival. + +“I don't know. She asked me what I thought about it.” + +“And what did you tell her?” + +“I told her I wasn't a woman, and that let me out. Being a man, I'm not +entitled to a vote or an opinion, and I'd be very much obliged to her +if she'd not try to drag me into it,--and to answer my question if she +could. Whereupon she said she was in favour of moving by the light of +the sun, and payin' no attention at all to the moon. Which I thought was +a very intelligent arrangement. You see, if they move in the daytime the +damned old moon won't know anything about it till it's too late and--” + +“You're the first Irisher I've ever seen who wasn't superstitious, +Mike,” broke in Fitts, with enthusiasm. “It takes a great load off +my mind. Now I can ask you why the devil you've never returned that +pocket-knife of mine. I thought you had some sort of superstition +about it. A good many people,--really bright and otherwise intelligent +people,--firmly believe it's bad luck to return anything that's been +borrowed. I suppose I've owned fifty umbrellas in my time. The only man +who ever returned one,--but you know what happened without my telling +you. He got caught in a sudden shower on his way home from my apartment +after making a special trip to return it, and died some three years +later of pneumonia. Sick two days, I heard. So, as long as you're not a +bit superstitious about it, I'd thank you--” + +“I'd have you know that I never keep anything I borrow,--that is, never +more than a day. It's against my principles. Don't ask me for your +dommed old knife. I lent it weeks ago to Soapy Shay.” + +“You did?” cried Fitts, incredulity and relief in his voice. “Much +obliged. I haven't been able to look Soapy in the face for a month. Did +he recognize it?” + +“I think he did. He kissed it.” + +“Landover tried to borrow my lead pencil yesterday,” remarked Flattner. +“Finally offered to put up his letter of credit as security. I gave him +the laugh. That lead pencil is worth more than all the letters of credit +lumped together. He wanted to write a note. So I agreed to let him +use it if he wouldn't take it out of my sight and on condition that he +didn't write more than five or six line's. But when he made as if he was +going to sharpen it, I threatened him with an ax. Can you beat that for +wastefulness? These low-down rich don't know the meaning of frugality. +Why, if I hadn't stopped him he might have whittled off five thousand +dollars' worth of lead, just like that. I also had to caution him about +bearing down too hard while he was writing.” + +“What was he wanting to write a note for?” demanded Malone. “Has he lost +his voice?” + +“It was a note of apology. He says he never fails to write a note of +apology when he's done something he's ashamed of, or words to that +effect. Lifelong practice, he says.” + +“Who was he apologizin' to?” + +“That little nurse, Miss Lake,--the one with the coral earrings. You +know, Mike. I saw you carrying a bucket of water for her yesterday.” + +“Her name isn't Lake,” said Malone. “It's Hardwickley. And if you had +your eyes open, you'd have seen me carrying one for her every day, so +you would, my lad.” + +“The damned villain!” exploded Flattner. “He told me her name was +Lake,--word with only four letters,--and she turns out to have--let's +see,--eleven! I call that pretty shifty work, I do. You can't trust +these wizards of Wall Street. They'll do you every crack, if you don't +keep your eye peeled. Hornswoggled me out of seven letters.” + +“You've got to watch 'em,” mused Fitts. “What was he apologizing to her +for?” + +“Something to do with his washing. I don't just remember what it was, +but I think she didn't iron and fold his handkerchiefs properly, +or maybe it was his collars. In any case, he panned her for it, and +afterwards repented. Told me in so many words that he felt like a +blooming cad about it, and couldn't rest till he had apologized.” + +Fitts took several puffs at his pipe and then remarked: “That man has +the biggest wash of anybody in this camp. I don't see any real reason +why he should change collars three times a day while he's hauling logs +down from the hills. As a matter of fact, what's the sense of wearing +a collar at all? Most of us don't even wear shirts. See here, your +majesty,--begging your pardon for disturbing your thoughts with my +foot,--why don't you issue a manifesto or edict or something prohibiting +the use of collars except on holidays, or at weddings, funerals and so +forth?” + +Percival yawned. “If Landover didn't have a collar on he'd think he was +stark naked. Gosh, I'd like to go to bed.” + +“Why don't you? We'll call you as soon as we get any news,” said +Flattner. + +“No, I'll stick it out a while longer. I say, Flat, it begins to look +as if there's real wheat coming up over there after all. Old Pedro was +telling me today that it looks like a cinch unless we got it sowed too +late and cold weather comes along too soon. I never dreamed we'd get +results. Putting out spring wheat in virgin soil like this is a new +one on me. If it does thrive and deliver, by gosh, a whole lot of +agricultural dope will be knocked to pieces. I thought spring wheat +had to be sown in land that was ploughed the fall before. What's the +explanation?” + +“You can't explain nature, A. A.,” said Percy Knapendyke. “Nature does +so darned many unnatural things that you can't pin your faith to it at +all. Of course, it was a pure experiment we made. We happened to have +a lot of hard spring wheat, and this alluvial soil, deep and rich, was +worth tackling. Old Pedro was as much surprised as I was when it began +to come up. Using that fertilizer was an experiment, too. He swore it +wouldn't help a bit. Now he just scratches his head and says God did it. +We've got fifty acres out there as green as paint and you can almost +see it grow. If nothing happens we ought to harvest it by the middle of +February, and if God keeps on doing things for us, we may get as much as +twenty-five bushels to the acre. It's different with the oats. You can +plant oats on unploughed land, just as we did, and you can't stop it +growing. The oats field up there along the base of the hills is a peach. +Takes about ninety days for oats to ripen. That means we'll harvest it +in about two months, and we'll beat the cold weather to it. Forty or +fifty to the acre, if we have any luck at all. Potatoes doing well +and--Say, did I tell you what I've found out about that stuff growing +over there in the lowlands beyond the river? Well, it's flax. It's +the same sort of thing that grows in New Zealand. Those plants I was +pointing out to you last week,--the ones with the long brownish leaves, +like swords. There's no mistake about it. I took those two Australian +sailors over to look at 'em a day or two ago and they swear it's the +same plant, growing wild. Same little capsule shaped fruit, with the +little black seeds, and everything. I've been reading up on it in the +encyclopedia. You cut those leaves off when they get to be full size, +macerate 'em in water for a few days, sun dry 'em, and then weave 'em +some way or another. We'll have to work that out. Strongest sort of +fibre in the leaves. Makes a very stout cloth, rope, twine,--all +that sort of thing. Opens up a new and important industry, +boys,--particularly obnoxious to married men. We'll be having +dress-making establishments in full blast before you know it, and model +gowns till you can't rest. I almost hate to spread the news among the +women. We won't have a cook, or a laundress, or a school-teacher on the +Island if this dressmaking craze gets started. Every hut along this row +will have a sign beside the door: 'Dressmaking Done Here.' On the other +hand, I doubt very much if we'll be able to get a single tailor-shop +going,--and God knows I'll soon need a new pair of pants, especially if +we're going to have regular church services every Sunday, as Percival +says.” + +“Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie have finally got together on it,” + said Malone gloomily. “For the first time in the history of civilization +we're going to have a combination Catholic and Protestant Church. It's +all arranged. Father Francisco is going to conduct mass in the morning +and Parson Mackenzie is going to talk about hell-fire in the evening. +I was wondering what the Jews are going to do for a synagogue and a +rabbi.” + +“I can't answer that question,” said Peter Snipe; “but Morris Shine +tackled me the other day to write a play for him, something with music +and dancing in it. He's got a great idea, he says. A stock company to +use the church building once a month. Expects to submit his scheme to +Fitts as soon as he gets it worked out, with the idea of having our +prize little architect provide for a stage with ecclesiastical props in +the shape of pulpits and chancels and so forth, which can be removed on +short notice. Suggests, as a matter of thrift, that footlights be put in +instead of altar candles. Free show, free acting, no advertising bills, +no royalties to authors, free programs,--everything free, including +supper.” + +“Grand little idea, Pete,” said Percival. “Are you going to write the +play?” + +“Sure. My faithful old typewriter is aching to be thumped once +more,--and I've got half-a-dozen extra ribbons, thank God. Good for +two long novels and an epitaph. Just as soon as we can get the ship's +printing press and dining-room type ashore, I'll be ready to issue The +Trigger Island Transcript, w.t.f.--if you know what that means. I see +you don't. Weekly till forbidden.” + +“I've always wondered what those confounded letters meant down in the +corner of the half-inch advertisements,” said Flattner. “It will be a +rotten-looking newspaper if it's anything like the sheet the Doraine +put out on the trip down. No two letters matched, and some of 'em were +always upside down. Why were they upside down, Pete? You're an old +newspaper man. Tell us.” + +“Because it's impossible to set 'em sideways. If it was possible, the +blamed printers could do it, you bet. When I was writing leaders on the +Saxville Citizen years ago there was a ruffian up in the composing-room +who used to set whole paragraphs of my best editorials in em quads, and +when I kicked,--Hello, isn't that a lantern, A. A.?” + +They all scrambled to their feet and peered intently in the direction of +the wooded strip that lined the channel. This whilom conversation came +to an abrupt end. Ghostly forms suddenly took shape in front of other +huts, figures of men that were until then as logs in the shadows. +Far off in the road through the wood, a light bobbed, flashed and +disappeared intermittently, and finally emerged into the open and came +steadily forward. Detached knots of men down the line of huts, twos and +threes and fours, swiftly welded themselves into groups, and, hurrying +forward, swelled the crowd that congregated at the end of the “street.” + Two hundred of them, tired but eager, awaited the arrival of the man +with the lantern. + +These were the men who slept on shore, the unmarried men, those who +had no “feminine hearth,” as Snipe put it dolefully one dark and windy +night. Since supper-time these men had been waiting and watching. But +few of them had gone to bed. Gentleman and roustabout, one and all, were +linked together by a common anxiety. News of the greatest import was +expected during the night. + +A child was coming to the pathetic little widow of Cruise, the +radio-man. + +Two messengers had gone down to the landing to wait for the report to be +shouted from the afterdeck of the Doraine,--Soapy Shay and Buck Chizler, +the jockey. Now they were returning,--and it was nearing midnight. + +They drew near, the lantern buffeting the legs of the one-time diamond +thief as he swung along in the rear of the more active jockey. + +“It's a girl,” called out Buck to the silent mob. Not a sound, not a +word from the eager crowd. “Mother and kid both doing well,” went on the +jockey, a thrilling note of triumph in his voice. + +And then a roar of voices went up to the moonlit sky. The shackles +of doubt and anxiety fell away, and every heart swelled with joy and +relief. Men began to dance and laugh. Out in front of the crowd leaped +Percival. + +“Come on now, fellows! Everybody up! Three cheers for the Trigger Island +baby! One--two--three!” + +And while the last wild cheer was echoing back from, the mountainside: +“Now, three good ones for the baby's mother, God bless her!” + +Thrice again the exultant yells echoed across the plain, and then out +leaped another excited figure. It was Nicklestick the Jew. + +“Come on! Come on! Ve got to light the bonfires! Come on! I got the +matches! Vait! Vait! Let's vait while we take off our hats a minute, +boys,--take them off to our baby's father, Jimmy Cruise. No cheers!” + +A hush fell over the crowd. Every hat came off, and every head was bent. +To many of them James Cruise was no more than a name salvaged from the +shocking experiences of those first dreadful days. Few of them had +come in actual contact with him. The time had been too short. But Betty +Cruise, his widow, was known to all of them, high and low. They had +watched over her, and protected her, and slaved for her, for +besides pity there was in every man's soul the fiercest desire that +nothing,--absolutely nothing,--should be left undone to insure the happy +delivery of the babe they were counting so keenly upon! + +She was a frail, delicate English girl whom Cruise had married in Buenos +Aires the year before. He was taking her up to his mother's home in +Connecticut. His death,--alas, his annihilation!--almost killed her. +There were those who said she would die of grief. But, broken and frail +as she was, she made the fight. And now came the news that she had +“pulled through.” + +There were mothers on board with tiny babies,--three or four of them, in +fact,--peevish, squalling infants that innocently undertook to inspire +loathing in the souls of these self-same men. They had no claim upon the +imagination or the sympathy of the eager crowd,--no such hold as this +newcomer, the child born in their pockets, so to speak,--an expression +first employed by an ardent champion of the impending infant +in defending his righteous solicitude when it was attacked by a +sophisticated and at the same time exasperated nurse. + +Two bonfires were started in the open space known as “The Green.” The +huge piles of twigs and branches had been thrown up earlier in the +evening. They were in plain view of the “lookout” at the top of Split +Mountain. It had been agreed that if it was a boy one fire was to be the +signal; if a girl, two. The “watch” was to share in the glad tidings! + +The cheering awoke Abel Landover from a sound sleep. He turned in his +bunk and growled: + +“The damned idiots!” + +Mr. Landover did not like children. He declined to sit up half the +night to find out “how things were going.” So he went to bed, knowing +perfectly well that his three bunkies would come piling in at some +outlandish hour and jabber about the “kid,” and he wouldn't be able to +get back to sleep again for hours. + +He was what is commonly known as a “grass widower.” His wife rather too +promptly married inside of a month after leaving Reno, and, much to +her own gratification and joy, proceeded to have three very desirable +children within a period of five years, causing him a great deal of pain +and annoyance for the reason that their father had once been regarded as +his best friend,--and now he couldn't abide the sight of him. He hated +children. Now you know the kind of a man he was. + +Five tired and thoughtful men were going to bed a little later on in one +of the huts. + +“What shall we call her?” came from Randolph Fitts, as he threw one of +his clay-covered shoes into the corner. + +“There's only one name for her,” said Percival firmly, from the edge of +his bunk. “We'll call her Doraine.” + +“Good shot!” cried Peter Snipe. “I had two names in mind, but Doraine's +got 'em both beat. It may not be as pretty as Angelica, but it's more +appropriate. Mortimer was the other name I had in mind.” + +“Yep,” was the smothered decision of Michael Malone. His shirt came off, +and then he spoke more distinctly. “We can't do better than to name her +after her birthplace. That's her name. Doraine Cruise. It sounds Irish. +Got music in it. All Irish names have,--leaving out Michael and Patrick +and Cornelius and others applied solely to the creatures who don't +take after their blessed mothers and who grow up to be policemen and +hod-carriers, with once in awhile a lawyer or labour-leader to glorify +the saints they were named for, and--Yes, begorry, Doraine's her name.” + +And so it was that, with an arbitrary quaintness, the babe was named +without so much as a thought of consulting the mother. They assumed a +proprietary interest in her, a sort of corporate ownership that had as +its basis a genuine affection for and pride in Cruise's widow. It did +not occur to one of them that she ought to have been considered in the +matter of naming her own child; they went to sleep perfectly satisfied +that when the question was put to a general vote on the morrow there +wouldn't be a single dissenting voice against the name they had +selected. + +And Mrs. Cruise herself would be very grateful to them for the prompt +assistance they had given her at a time when she was in no condition to +be bothered with minor details! + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The death of Betty Cruise occurred the second day after her baby was +born. In a way, this lamentable occurrence solved a knotty problem and +pacified two warring sexes, so to speak. For, be it known, the women of +the Doraine took a most determined stand against the manner in which +the men, viva voce, had arrogated unto themselves the right to name the +baby. Not that any one of the women objected to the name they had given +her; they were, in fact, pleased with it. But, they protested, this was +a matter over which but one person had jurisdiction, and that person +was Betty Cruise. If it was not a mother's privilege to name her +own child,--especially in a case where the infant's father was in no +position to decide the question for her, whether she consented or no, +then all they could say was that things had come to a pretty pass. + +At any rate, they were going to see to it that the baby was not named by +a mob! + +Ruth Clinton went straight to Percival. + +“I hear you have named the baby, Mr. Percival,” she said, prefacing her +remark by a curt “good morning.” + +It was the first time she had spoken to him in many days. Their ways not +only lay apart but she had made a point of avoiding him. She stopped him +this morning as he was passing the hut in which she and her aunt were to +live with two of the American nurses. + +The three young women had spent several days in the making and putting +up of some very unusual and attractive window curtains and portieres; +painting the stones that framed the fireplace, the crude window-casings +and door jamb; and in draping certain corner recesses which were to +achieve dignity as clothes closets. They were scrubbing the floor when +Percival passed on his way to the “office.” + +His “office,” by the way, was a rude “lean-to” at the extreme outer end +of the street. It was characteristic of him to establish headquarters +at a point farthest removed from the approach to the camp from the ship. +Fitts was perhaps the only person who sensed the real motive back of +this selection. Every one else attributed it to an amiable conclusion on +Percival's part to sacrifice himself for others by walking almost twice +as far as any of them. As a matter of fact, he had nothing of the sort +in mind. He deliberately arranged it so that all operations should be +carried on between headquarters and “home.” It was his plan to drive +inward instead of outward, to push always in one direction. In other +words, thought Fitts quite correctly, he “never had to look behind him +for trouble.” + +To save his life, Percival could not subdue the eager, devouring gleam +that flashed into his eyes as he looked into hers. He could have cursed +himself. A swift warm flush raced from her throat to her cheeks. +Her direct, steady gaze faltered under fire, and a confused, trapped +expression flickered perceptibly for a moment or two. He mistook it for +dismay, or, on second thought, even worse,--displeasure. + +“I--I can't help it,” he stammered, surprised into voicing the thought +that was uppermost. “You know how I feel. I--I--” + +But she had recovered her self-possession. “Do you really think you have +the right to name Mrs. Cruise's baby?” she inquired coolly. + +He managed a wry, deprecatory smile. “Everybody seems to like the name, +Miss Clinton. The more I think of it myself, the better it sounds. I +tried it out last night in all sorts of combinations. It fits nicely +into almost any family tree--even Nicklestick's. Just say it to +yourself. Doraine Nicklestick. Try any name you like. Doraine Smith, +Doraine Humperdinck, Doraine Landover--even Doraine Shay--and, I tried +it out with Clinton. Doraine Clinton. Don't you like it? I even +tried Percival. It isn't quite so satisfying tacked onto a name like +mine,--and it's a poor beginning for Fitts,--but with good, sensible +surnames, it's fine.” + +“It isn't a question of how it sounds, Mr. Percival.” + +“Don't you like Doraine Clinton?” + +“I like almost anything better than Ruth. I suppose most people loathe +the names that other people have given them.” + +“No one knows that better than I. I sometimes wonder what they might +have called me if I were a girl. Nothing as nice as Doraine, or Ruth, +I'll bet my soul on that. Something like Guinevere Aphrodite, or +Desdemona Venus, or--” + +“We are getting away from the subject,” she interrupted crisply. “Has it +occurred to you that poor little Mrs. Cruise might like to name her own +baby? Why should you men take it upon yourselves to choose a name for +her child? Don't you think you were a trifle high-handed in the matter?” + +“Of course, if Mrs. Cruise doesn't like Doraine, we will--” + +“You will suggest another, I suppose,” she broke in scornfully. “Well, +I may as well inform you that you are about to strike a snag,” she went +on, a trifle inelegantly in her desire to be emphatic. “We intend to see +to it that the mother of that baby gives it a name of her own choosing.” + +“May I inquire just who you mean by we?” he asked. + +“The women,--three hundred of us, Mr. Percival, that's who. I for one +happen to know that Betty Cruise chose a name long ago. Her heart is set +on naming the baby after her mother,--Judith, I think it is. That's the +name she wants, but do you imagine she will have the hardihood or the +courage, poor little scrap, to oppose you, Mr. Percival? I mean you, +personally. She thinks your word is law. She would no more think of +defying you than she would think of--” + +“Pardon me, Miss Clinton,” he interrupted gently, “but don't you think +that's a trifle far-fetched? I am not a dictator, you know. I fancy Mrs. +Cruise knows that, even if you do not.” + +“I have heard all about your meeting last night,” she went on +ruthlessly, her eyes flashing. “How you suggested the name, how you +settled the question to suit yourself, and how you called the men +together this morning and told them that the child was to be called +Doraine before you asked them to vote on it. Vote on it! What a +travesty! And no one had the nerve to stand up and say a word for that +poor little woman. Oh, you've got them well-tamed, Mr. Percival.” + +By this time the two nurses had appeared in the doorway, and several +other women at work down the line, scenting the fray, were approaching. + +“I guess you'd better call off the vote, Mr. Percival,” said one of the +nurses, eyeing him unflinchingly. + +“I can't call it off. The men adopted the name unanimously. I have no +right to set aside their decision, no matter how hastily it was made,” + said he, beginning to bridle now that he tasted concerted opposition. + +“I warn you that I intend to call the women,--and what few men there are +with minds of their own,--together this evening to see that Betty Cruise +gets fair play,” said Ruth. “When she hears that we are behind her, +she'll have the backbone to tell you men to mind your own business +and--” + +“Have I a mind of my own or not, Miss Clinton?” he interrupted. + +“You certainly have,” she declared with conviction. + +“Then you may expect me to be one of the men to attend your meeting. +Good morning.” He lifted his hat, smiled and walked briskly away. + +“He'll crab the whole thing,” observed one of the women, and despite +her vocal rancour there was an admiring expression in her eyes as they +followed him down the road. + +“If he wants to call that baby Andrew Jackson or George Washington, +he'll have his way,” said another. “Sex won't make any difference to +him.” + +“You just wait and see,” said Ruth, quivering with indignation. + +“Mercy, how you must hate him, Miss Clinton,” cried one of her +house-mates. + +“I only wish I were a man,” cried the other, clenching her fists. + +“It would simplify matters tremendously,” came in dry, masculine tones +from the outskirts of the group. They turned and discovered Randolph +Fitts. He was smiling sympathetically. + +“I don't quite see what you mean, Mr. Fitts,” said Ruth, after a moment. + +“Because if you were a man, Miss Clinton, you wouldn't even think of +hating him. You'd love him.” + +Miss Clinton stared at him for a second or two and then, whirling, +entered the hut. Her cheeks were burning. Who shall say whether the +tears that sprang to her eyes as she fell to work scrubbing in the +corner were of anger or self-pity? + +Briefly, the situation became quite strained as the day wore on. Women +gathered in little knots to discuss the unprecedented “nerve” of the +men. By nightfall they were pretty thoroughly worked up over a matter +that had mildly amused them at the outset of the day. A comparatively +small proportion had cared one way or the other in the beginning. Most +of them did not care at all. Given time, however, to digest the thought, +aided by such seasoning as could be supplied by a half dozen determined +and more or less eloquent voices, they came in the course of a few hours +to the conclusion that they never had heard of anything so outrageous, +and, to a woman, were ready to fight for little Mrs. Cruise's rights! + +Several of the stewardesses and two or three women from the second cabin +were avowed and bitter suffragettes. Indeed, two of the stewardesses, +being English, were of the hatchet-wielding, brick-throwing element that +made things so warm for the pained but bull-headed male population of +London shortly before the Great War began. These ladies harangued their +companions with great effect. + +To have heard or witnessed the little gatherings at noon and at the +close of work for the day, one might have been led to believe that a +grave, portentous ques-tion of state was involved. Trifling and simple +as all this may seem to the reader of this narrative, it serves a +definite purpose. It reveals to a no uncertain degree the eagerness with +which these castaways reached out hungrily for the slightest morsel +that would satisfy the craving of active minds dulled by the constant, +never-absent thought of self; minds charged with thoughts that centred +on something thousands of miles away; minds that seldom if ever worked +in harmony with hands that toiled. + +The men took up the gauntlet. They considered themselves challenged. +Notwithstanding the secret conviction that the women were right, they +stood united in defence of their action. Nothing that Percival could +say or do moved them. He tramped from one group of toilers to another, +always meeting with the same grins and laughter when he suggested that +they wait until Mrs. Cruise was able to approve or disapprove of the +name they had chosen. + +“Good gosh!” cried one of the sailors. “Are you goin' to give in to the +women, boss?” + +“Well, I've been thinking it over, boys. I guess we were a little too +officious. We meant well, God knows, but after all, Betty Cruise ought +to be consulted,--now, oughtn't she?” + +“Sure,” cried any number of them cheerfully. “It's her kid.” + +“Well, there you are,” he rejoined persuasively. + +“But how do we know she won't be tickled to death with our name? She'd +ought to be. It's purtier than any name I can think of,” argued Jack +Wales, a sailor. “When she's well enough, we'll tell her the kid's name +is Doraine, and--” + +“She won't hold back a second, boss, when she finds out that you picked +it for her,” broke in another. “Only a couple o' days ago she was sayin' +to one of the other women in my hearin' that if it was a boy she was +goin' to call him Percival,--and she didn't know what on earth she'd do +if it was a girl. Said she'd probably have to call it after her mother +and she didn't like her mother's name a little bit.” + +“I know, but after all, we did butt in a trifle too soon with our--” + +“For God's sake, don't let any of these here women hear you talk like +that, boss,” groaned Jack Wales. “They'll think we're beginning to +hedge. We got to stand together in this thing. If we don't, they'll rule +this camp sure as you're a foot high. I don't give a dern what the kid's +name is, far as I'm concerned, but on principle, boss, it's just got to +be Doraine. Doraine she is an' Doraine she stays.” + +Every one of them was good-humoured about it. They were taking it as a +rare and unexpected bit of politics. The thrill of opposition invested +them. They scoffed at surrender. + +Buck Chizler, however, was seriously affected. He was courting one of +the nurses and he, for one, saw peril in preliminary defeat. + +“There won't be any living with 'em,” he proclaimed, scowling darkly. “I +know what it is to have 'em get the bit in their teeth. You just can't +manage 'em, that's all. Upset all the dope. Likely to throw you clear +over the fence. Experience ain't a particle of use. The gad don't do a +bit of good. They just shut their jaws, lay back their ears, and--” + +“We're not talking about race-horses, Buck,” interrupted Percival, +smiling. + +“Neither am I,” said Buck forcibly. + +Ruth went to Olga Obosky. She did so only after a rather prolonged +inward struggle. The Russian's interest in Percival was not moderated +by the reserve supposed to be inherent in women. She was an open +idolatress. One had only to watch the way she followed him with her +dark, heavy-lidded eyes to know what was in her mind. Ruth tried not to +despise her. She tried not to care, when she saw Percival laughing and +talking with this beguiling sensualist,--and it was not an infrequent +occurrence. + +The dancer was seated on the floor of her hut, tailor-fashion, a +cigarette between her lips, her bare arms resting limply on her knees, +her body bent forward in an attitude of extreme fatigue. The three +“coryphees” were busy at work about the place with Olga's maid. Ruth +stopped in the doorway. Olga lazily removed the cigarette from her lips +and smiled. + +“I once thought I was very strong and unbreakable,” she said, “but now +I know I am not. See, I am all in, as we would say in America. Suffering +snakes,--how tired I am! That also comes from America. Won't you sit +down, Miss Clinton? We have three or four deck chairs, you see, and some +cushions.” + +“Why do you sit there on the floor, all doubled up and--heavens, it must +be uncomfortable,--if you are so tired? How do you manage your legs?” + +“My legs? Oh, my legs are never tired. It is my poor back.” Whereupon +she slowly, gracefully straightened out one of her legs, and without +changing the position of her body, raised it, with toes and instep on +a perfect line, until the heel was some three feet from the floor. Then +she swung it slowly backward, twisting her body sinuously to one side. +A moment later the foot was stretched out behind her and she lifted +herself steadily, without apparent exertion, upon the other knee,--and +then stood erect. Ruth watched this remarkable feat in wonder and +admiration. + +“How--how on earth do you do it?” she cried. “Why,--you must be as +strong as--as--a--” She was about to say horse, and floundered. + +“But I trust not as clumsy as one,” said Madame Obosky, stretching her +body in luxurious abandon. “I sit on the floor like zat, my friend, +because my back is tired, not my legs. If I lie back in ze deck chair +when I am tired, I would relax,--and would make so much more regret for +myself when the time came to get up again. Besides, it is a good way +to rest, zis way. Have you never tried it? Do, sometime. The whole body +rests, it sags; the muscles have nothing to do, so they become soft and +grateful. The backbone, the shoulders, the neck,--they all droop and +oh, zey--they are so happy to be like zat. It is the same as when I am +asleep and they are not running errands all the time for my brain. The +Arab sits like zat when he rests,--and the Hindoo,--and they are strong, +oh, so very strong. Try it, sometime, Miss Clinton, when you are very +tired. It is the best way to let go, all over.” + +Ruth laughed. “I couldn't do it to save my soul.” + +“Oh, I do not mean for you to get up as I did, or use your leg as I did. +You could not do zat. You are too old. That is one of the fruits, one +of the benefits of the cruelest kind of child labour. I was a great many +years in making myself able to do zat. See! Put your hand on my leg. Now +my back,--my arm. What you think, eh?” + +Ruth, in some embarrassment, had shyly obeyed her. The dancer's thigh +was like a column of warm iron; her waist, free as ever from stays, was +firm and somehow suggestive of actual resilience; her shoulders and +back possessed the hard, rippling muscles of a well-developed boy; her +shapely forearm was as hard as steel. Ruth marvelled. + +“How strong you are!” she cried; “and yet you are slight. You are not as +big as I am, but oh, how much stronger you are!” + +“I have a perfect figure,” said Olga calmly. “It is worth preserving. No +one admires my body so much as I do myself. I must not get fat. When you +are a fat old woman, I shall still be as I am now. You will diet, and +pray, and rave,--because you are growing old,--and I shall do none of +these things. I eat like a pig, I never pray, and I do not believe in +growing old. But you do not come to see me about myself, Miss Clinton. +You find me sitting idly with my legs crossed, and you are surprise. +I work as I dance,--very, oh, so very hard while I am at ze task,--but +with frequent periods of rest. So I do not wear out myself too soon. +It is the only way. Work for an hour, rest for ten minutes,--relax and +forget,--and you will see how well it goes. Why do you come? Is it to +talk about the baby?” + +“Yes, it is, Madame Obosky. I have come to ask you to use your influence +with Mr. Percival. You--” + +“But I have no influence with Mr. Percivail,” interrupted the other, +staring. + +Ruth flushed. “You are his friend. You--” + +“Ah, yes,--but nothing more than zat. You too are his friend, Miss +Clinton.” + +“I see little or nothing of Mr. Percival,” said Ruth stiffly. “We are +not friends,--not really friends.” + +“But you admire him, eh? Quite as much as I admire him,--and as every +one else does.” + +“There are certain things about him that I admire, of course.” + +“You admire him for the same reason that I admire him. Because he has +a most charming and agreeable way of telling me to go to the devil. Is +that not so?” + +“Madame Obosky!” + +“It comes to the same thing. If you would like me to put it in another +form, he has a very courteous way of resisting. He is most aggravating, +Miss Clinton. He is most disappointing. He should be like soft clay in +our hands, and he isn't. Is that not so?” + +“Is it not possible, Madame Obosky, that we,--you and I,--may have an +entirely different viewpoint so far as Mr. Percival is concerned? Or any +other man, for that matter?” Ruth spoke coldly, almost insultingly. + +“I dare say,” agreed Olga, composedly, not in the least offended by the +implication. “You want to marry him. I do not.” + +“How dare you say that? I do not want to marry that man. I do not want +to marry him, I say.” + +“How interesting. You surprise me, Miss Clinton. It appears, then, that +our viewpoint is in nowise different, after all.” + +“What do you mean by that?” + +“I leave it to your imagination,--and to reflection. Listen! We may as +well be friends. You do not wish to admit it, even to yourself, but +you are in love with him. So am I. The difference between us is that +I realize I can get along without him, and still be happy. I am not +jealous, my dear. If I were, I should hate you,--and I do not. He is in +love with you. You know it perfectly well, because you are not a fool. +He is not in love with me. No more am I a fool. He--” + +“I am not in love with him!” + +“So be it,” said Olga shortly. “Have your own way about it. It is not my +affair. You have come to me, however, because you know he loves you and +you know you do not love him. Why, therefore, are you afraid of me?” + +“It is useless to continue this--” + +“Oh, I see! You do not wish my girls to hear our conversation.” Without +more ado, she ordered the three girls out of the hut. “Go out and play,” + she commanded. Then, as the girls imparted in haste, she turned to Ruth. +“I am very thoughtless. You are not in the habit of discussing your love +affairs quite so generously as I. Poof! They do not care, those girls. +Love affairs mean nothing to my girls.” + +“I have no love affair to discuss, Madame Obosky. You need not have sent +them away. Good-bye..There is nothing more to be said--” + +“Do not go away,--please. You do not know whether to like me or not. You +do not understand me. You have never encountered any woman as honest as +I am, zat is the trouble. Sit down, please. Let us talk. We may be here +together on this island all the rest of our lives, Miss Clinton. It +would not be right for us to hate each other. When you are married to +Mr. Percivail, you will have nothing to fear from me. I give you my +solemn oath on zat, Miss Clinton. Our little world here is too small. If +we were out in the great big world,--well, it might be different then. +But, how, I ask you, is it possible for me to run away with your husband +when there is no place to run away to?” + +She spoke so quaintly that Ruth smiled in spite of herself. + +“You are a most extraordinary person, Madame Obosky. I--I can't dislike +you. No, thank you, I sha'n't sit down. I came to see you about the +naming of the baby. I suppose you know that we women have decided to +oppose the--” + +“Yes, yes,--I know,” interrupted the other. “But why should we oppose? +It is a very small matter.” + +“Do you really believe those men had--or have--the right to give a name +to Betty Cruise's baby? I don't believe it, Madame Obosky.” + +“In the first place, can you blame Mr. Percivail for taking the +matter out of the mother's hands? Mothers are very, oh, so very stupid +sometime, you know. For example, my dear Miss Clinton, you have but to +see what Mr. Percivail's mother did to him when he was an infant. She +called him Algernon Adonis,--and why? Because she thought he was the +most wonderful child in all the world,--and because she was silly. I can +almost hear her arguing now with the father, poor man. One day I asked +Algernon Adonis what name his father called him by,--I was so sure he +would not call him Algernon. He said that up to the day his father +died he called him Bud. That's a toy's name, you see. I am in favour of +children being named by outsiders, disinterested outsiders,--a committee +or something,--men preferably. I think this child should be called +Doraine. Betty Cruise she do not care what she call it now that it is +not possible to call it Jimmy Percivail or Percivail Jimmy. Has it occur +to you that if it had been a boy, all these men would have insisted on +Jimmy, without the Percivail?” + +“I like the name Doraine,--we all do. What we resent is Mr. Percival's +presumption in--” + +“Let me tell you one more thing. Do not permit Mr. Percivail to address +your indignation meeting tonight, for if you do, and he smiles zat +nice, good-humoured smile and tells the ladies zat he is sorry to have +displease them, and zat he is to blame entirely for the blunder,--poof! +Zat will be the end!” + +“I am not so sure of that,” said Ruth. “There are some very determined +women among us, Madame Obosky.” A faint line appeared between her eyes, +however,--a line acknowledging doubt and uncertainty. “And you will not +join us in the protest?” + +“No,” said Olga, shaking her head. “I am content to let the men have +their way in small things, Miss Clinton. It makes zem--them so +much easier to manage when it comes to the big things. I speak from +experience. Once let a man think he is monarch of all he surveys and he +becomes the most humble of subjects. As I have said before, we may all +be here for a long, long time. No one can tell. So, I say, we must pat +our men on the back and tell zem what great, wise, strong fellows they +are,--and how good and gallant too. Then they will fight for us like the +lion, and zey--they will work for us like the ass and the oxen, because +man he enjoys to be applauded greatly. A man likes to have his hair +rubbed gently with the finger tips. He will smile and close his eyes and +if he knew how he would purr like the cat. But, my dear, he do not like +to have his hair pulled. Zat is something for you to remember,--you and +all your determined women, as you call them.” + +“Of course you understand, Madame Obosky, I--and the other women,--are +thinking only of Betty Cruise in this matter.” + +“From what I have been told, all these men out here stayed awake half +the night thinking about her, Miss Clinton. They behave like so many +distracted fathers waiting for news from the bed-chamber. Bless their +hearts, you might think from their actions that the whole two--three +hundred of them consider themselves the consolidated father of zat +single infant.” + +“I must be getting back to my work,” said Ruth abruptly. Her eyes were +shining, her voice was soft and strangely thick. “But,” she went on +bravely, after clearing her throat, “we intend to fight it out with +them, just the same, Madame Obosky.” + +Olga went to the door with her. + +“You mean, you intend to fight it out with Mr. Percivail,--you yourself, +eh?” + +“It is not a personal matter with me, let me remind you once more. He +is their leader. He dominates them. He is the force that holds them +together. That's all.” + +“And you would render that force impotent, eh? I see. How wise you women +are!” + +Ruth stopped short, struck by the remark. “Say that again, please.” + +Olga repeated the words slowly, significantly, and added: “They might +have a worse leader, Miss Clinton.” + +At another time, Ruth Clinton would have been deeply impressed by the +underlying significance of the Russian's words. But she was at the mercy +of a stubborn, rebellious pride. She chose to ignore the warning that +lay in Obosky's remark. She felt herself beaten, and she was defiant. It +was too late to hark now to the mild, temperate voice of reason. + +Something rankled deep down in her soul, something she was ashamed to +acknowledge even to herself. It was the disagreeable conviction that +Percival ascribed her activities to nothing more stable than feminine +perversity,--in fact, she had the uncomfortable feeling that he even +went so far as to attribute them to spitefulness. Something in his voice +and manner, as he left her that morning, suggested the kindly chiding of +a wilful child. Well, he should see! + +“I don't care what it all comes to, Madame Obosky,” she said, a red spot +in each cheek. “He shall not name that baby.” + +The Russian smiled. “Forgive me for saying that you will not feel so +bitterly toward him when the time comes for him to name your baby.” + +Ruth's lips fell apart. She stared for a moment in sheer astonishment. +Then she paled with anger. Drawing herself to her full height, she +asked: + +“Are you deliberately trying to make me despise you?” + +“By no means,” replied the other, quite cheerfully. “I am merely giving +you something to think about, zat is all.” + +“Rubbish!” was all that Ruth flung over her shoulder as she walked away. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +It was the noon hour. Scores of men were resting in the shade of the +huts as she strode briskly past. They all smiled cheerily, but there +was good humoured mockery in their smiles. Here and there were groups of +women talking earnestly, excitedly. + +Abel Landover was leaning in his doorway, watching her approach. His +eyes gleamed. She was very beautiful, she was very desirable. She had +been in his mind for months,--this fine, strong, thoroughbred daughter +of a thoroughbred gentleman. His sleeves were rolled up, his throat +was bare; his strong, deeply lined face was as brown as a berry; if +anything, his cold grey eyes were harder and more penetrating than +in the days when they looked out from a whiter countenance. He was a +strong, dominant figure despite, the estate to which he had fallen,--a +silent, sinister figure that might well have been described as “The +Thinker.” For he was always thinking. + +“I understand you tackled the 'boss' this morning, Ruth,” he said as she +came up. + +“I daresay the news is all over the island by this time,” she replied, +still angry. + +“Was it worth while?” he inquired, a trace of derision in his voice. + +She was on the point of replying rather emphatically in the negative, +when suddenly she recalled the look in Percival's eyes and the first +words he spoke to her. She caught her breath. Her eyes sparkled, her +lips parted in a rosy smile. + +“Yes, Mr. Landover, it was worth while,” she said, and went on, leaving +him to reflections that were as perplexing as they were unanticipated. + +She experienced a short spell of triumph. After all, Percival was in +love with her. She did not need Olga Obosky to tell her that. She could +see, she could feel for herself. A certain glee possessed her,--indeed, +as she afterwards succeeded in analysing the sensation, it bordered +decidedly on malice. She had it in her power to make him miserable and +unhappy. She would enjoy seeing him unhappy! + +The meanness of the woman who longs to injure the man who loves her, +whether loved or unloved, revealed itself for the moment in this +fair-minded, generous girl. (It is a common trait, admitted by many +fair-minded and generous women!) But even as she coddled and encouraged +the little sprout of vengeance, the chill of common-sense rushed up and +blighted it. + +She had a sickening impression that Percival would fail to play the +part according to her conception. In fact, he was quite capable of +not playing it at all. He would pursue the even tenor of his way--(she +actually made use of the time-honoured phrase in her reflections),--and +she would get small satisfaction out of that. + +Moreover, there was Olga Obosky to be reckoned with. She was conscious +of a hot, swiftly passing sense of suffocation as the thought of Olga +rushed unbidden into her brain,--for an instant only,--and then came the +reaction: a queer chill that raced over her body from head to foot. What +part would Olga Obosky play in the game? + +The women congregated on the forward deck of the Doraine after supper +that night. The evening repast was no longer dignified by the word +dinner. The sky was inky black; not a star flickered in the vault above. +There were low, far off mutterings of thunder. The rail lanterns,--few +and far between,--threw their pallid beams down into the rippling basin +in a sickly effort to penetrate the gloom. + +Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott, smoking their pipes on the makeshift +bridge, studied the throng of women in dour silence. + +“I understand the farmers are praying for rain,” remarked Mr. Mott, +sniffing the air with considerable satisfaction. + +“It would do no end of good,” said Captain Trigger, without taking his +eyes from the chattering mass below. + +Mr. Codge, the purser, joined them. + +“What are they waiting for?” he asked. “Why don't they call the meeting +to order?” + +“They did that half an hour ago,” said Mr. Mott. “Good Lord, man, can't +you hear them talking? Have you no ears at all?” + +“But they're all talking at once.” + +“And why shouldn't they?” demanded the First Officer. “It's their +meeting, isn't it?” + +“I met Miss Clinton as I was coming up. She was going to her room. +I asked her how the meeting was getting along. I don't believe she +understood me, because all she said was 'good-night.'” + +“I guess she understood you, all right,” said Mr. Mott, again sniffing +the air. “Seems to me it's getting a little nearer, Captain Trigger. +There's a little breeze coming up, too.” + +“A good thunder-storm,--” began the Captain, musingly, but failed to +complete the sentence. + +“Would settle something besides the dust,” said Mr. Codge, after a +deferential wait of a few seconds. + +A figure detached itself from the mass on the weirdly lighted deck below +and, approaching the perch of the three officers, came to a halt almost +directly below them. The light of a lantern fell fairly on the upturned, +smiling face of Olga Obosky. + +“What is the hour, Captain Trigger?” she inquired. + +“Almost nine, Madame Obosky. + +“That is nearly two bells, eh, yes? How peaceful you look up there, you +three old owls.” + +“Come up!” invited the Captain cheerily. She joined them a moment later. +“Tell me, are they leaving a shred of Percival and his band of outlaws?” + +Mr. Codge struck a match and held it for her to light a cigarette. +She inhaled deeply and then expelled the smoke in what seemed like a +prolonged sigh of satisfaction. + +“They are very funny, those women,” she said, placing her elbows on the +rail and looking down at the crowd. “Do you know what the trouble is +now? It is this: they cannot think of a way to condemn the action +of those men as a body without also including Mr. Percivail in the +verdict.” + +“How's that?” + +“Ninety-five per cent, of them want to exonerate Mr. Percivail, but they +don't know how to do it in view of the fact that he is the guiltiest +man of them all. That's why I say they are very funny, those women. They +approve of what he has done in naming the baby, because whatever he does +must be right, but they are almost unanimous in charging that all the +other men out there were wrong. So they are in a great dilemma.” + +Captain Trigger laughed. “I see. What was Miss Clinton's position in the +debate?” + +“Oh, she was one of those who insisted that Mr. Percivail alone be held +accountable, the other men not at all. She was the chairman, you see, +and they were oblige to listen to her at first. But zen, presently, one +of those Brazilian ladies said it was a shame to put all the blame on +dear Mr. Percivail, who is such a gentleman and so splendid and all +zat,--and zen--then zat Mrs. Block jump up and say that if it was not +for Mr. Percivail her husband would have been killed last week when he +fell off of the landing into ten sousand feet of water. And the great +Careni-Amori she get up and say she would die for Mr. Percivail because +he is such a gentleman, and two of those nurses at the same time cry out +that he ought to be in the hospital because he is so worn-out working +for other people zat he can hardly drag his poor feet around. And so it +goes. Miss Clinton has departed, her chin in the air. But she does not +deceive me. She has gone to her room to have a good weeping.” + +“Well, I wish they'd get together on something,” growled the Captain; +“so's we can all go to bed and get a few hours' sleep.” + +“Like as not they're keeping the baby awake with all this jabbering,” + said Mr. Codge. “And that isn't good for babies, you know. They've got +to have plenty of sleep. Specially little ones.” + +“Will you tell me, Captain Trigger, why Mr. Percivail did not come +aboard tonight?” asked Olga suddenly. “They were expecting him.” + +“And they were disappointed, eh?” + +“I dare say. At any rate, a good many of them kept peering out over +the water most of the time, and listening for the sound of oars.” She +laughed softly. + +The men chuckled. “Talk about strategy,” said Mr. Mott, “he's a bird +at it. Keeps 'em guessing, he does. By glory, I wish I'd known how to +handle women as well as he does. I might have been married fifteen +or twenty times if I could have kept 'em anxious and worried,--but +I couldn't. I never did have any sense about women. That's why I'm a +bachelor instead of a grandfather.” + +“He told Miss Clinton he was coming,” said Olga, harking back to the +unanswered question. + +“I daresay he changed his mind,” said the Captain, rather evasively. + +“I do not believe zat. There is some other reason. He is not a woman, +Captain Trigger.” + +“Well, to tell you the truth--but don't let it go any farther, +Madame,--he came aboard just before supper to find out how Mrs. Cruise +is getting along. Dr. Cullen told him exactly what all these women down +there know,--that she's very low,--so he went ashore. Said something +about not wanting to take part in any racket that might disturb +her,--noisy talk, and all that,--and left a bunch of wild flowers for +her in case she was better by morning.” + +There was a slight noise behind them. Turning, they saw the figure of a +woman in the shadow of the deck house. + +“Who's there?” demanded Mr. Mott. + +Ruth Clinton stepped forward into the light. + +“Did he--did he do that?” she asked huskily. + +“He did,” said the Captain. + +“And is she so very ill? I did not know, Captain Trigger.” + +“She's likely to die, Miss Clinton,--poor little woman.” + +Ruth was silent for a moment. Then: “Do you think she--she can hear all +that hubbub down there?” + +“I am sure she cannot. But Percival was afraid she could, so he--well, +he thought it best not to make it any worse by adding his groans of +agony when you women tore him limb from limb out here on deck. That's +the way he put it, so don't look at me like that.” + +Ruth suddenly hung her head and walked away. As she disappeared down the +steps, Mr. Codge remarked, sotto voce: + +“She isn't as rabid as she was, is she?” + +“She's got it in for Percival ever since he took that fall out of +Landover,” said Mr. Mott. + +“Think she's--er--keen on Landover? He's a good bit older than she +is,--twenty years or so, I should say.” + +“Don't ask me, Codge. As I was saying awhile ago, I don't know anything +whatsoever about women. They know all about me, but, gosh, I'm worse +than a baby goat where they're concerned. There's no law against her +being in love with Landover, and there's no law against him marrying a +woman fifty years younger'n himself if he feels like it. Now you take +that good looking Russian over there talking to the Captain. Who knows +what's in her mind? Nobody, sir,--nobody. All I know is that Landover +tried to--” + +“Sh! They've got ears like cats,” cautioned Mr. Codge. + +“--And she put him in his place so quick it made his head swim. That's +why he's got it in for her so hard. He says she's not fit for decent +women to associate with. On the other hand, if she had been willing to +flirt a little with him, and so on, he would have said all the other +women were cats if they refused to take up with her. That's a man all +over for you, Codge. I hope Miss Clinton ain't considering getting +married to that man. He's one of these here what-do-you-call-'ems? Er--” + +“Sybarites?” said Codge, who had picked up a good deal from +conversations with Peter Snipe. + +“That ain't the word,” said Mr. Mott. “Now, I'll lay awake all night +trying to think of that word. Damn the luck!” + +He fell into a profound state of mental concentration, from which he was +aroused a few minutes later by the swift and almost unheralded shower +that rushed up ahead of the thunderstorm. The rumble of the “apple +carts” in the vault above had suddenly become ominous, and there were +fitful flares of light in the blackness. + +The indignation meeting broke up in a wild scurry of skirts. It is +worthy of mention that nothing definite had transpired. The speeches of +the ardent suffragettes from the wilds of London were all that the most +exacting could have demanded, for they covered all of the known and a +great many of the unsuspected iniquities that the masculine flesh is +heir to, but except for an introductory sentence or two they failed to +touch upon the object of the meeting. They all began with something +like “While I am frank to admit that Doraine is a very pretty name,” or +“Notwithstanding the fact that Doraine is a lovely name,” or “If I had +a child of my own, I should not in the least object to calling her +Doraine,” and so on and so forth, but they cruelly abandoned the baby in +the next breath, leaving it to be revived by the ensuing speaker. + +The rain came just in time to prevent a vote being taken on a motion +made by Miss Gladys Spotts. She moved that a committee of three be +appointed to serve notice on Captain Trigger, et al, that it was the +unanimous sense of the meeting that the women should not only have +voice and vote on all public questions, but also representation in the +official government. She had learned that there was talk of electing +a mayor, a town clerk, a treasurer, a sheriff and a board of +commissioners, and it ought to be understood in advance that-- + +The torrent came at that instant, but it requires a very slight +stretching of the imagination in order to understand precisely what Miss +Spotts insisted ought to be understood. + +It rained very hard all night, and thundered, and lightened, and blew +great guns. Not one, but all of the women, tucked away in their bunks, +wondered how those poor men were faring out there in that black and +lonely camp! + +The next morning it was still raining. (In fact, it rained steadily for +three days and nights.) Betty Cruise died shortly after daybreak, and +with her death ended the controversy over the naming of her babe. + +She was the first to be laid to rest in the burying-ground on Cape +Sunrise. Services were conducted on the Doraine by the Reverend Mr. +Mackenzie, assisted by Father Francisco. All work was suspended on the +morning of the funeral. Shortly before noon the entire company walked, +in a long, straggling procession, from the landing to the spot three +miles distant where the lonely grave awaited its occupant. Careni-Amori +sang “Lead, Kindly Light” and “Nearer, my God, to Thee,” at the +graveside. There were tears in a thousand eyes, and every voice was +husky. To most of these people, Betty Cruise meant nothing, but she was +to lie out there alone on the wind-swept point, and they were deeply +moved. They all went back to work after the midday meal, a strangely +silent, thoughtful company,--even down to the lowliest “Portugee.” + +Mr. Mott, the gaunt old cynic, surprised every one, including himself, +by adopting the infant! He announced his decision on the day after the +funeral. + +“That baby's got to have a father and a grandfather and a mother, and +all that,” he declared to Captain Trigger, “and I'm going to be all of +them, Weatherby. It ain't legal, I know, and I reckon I'll have to turn +her over to her proper relatives if they make any demand,--provided we +ever get off this island,--but while she's here she's mine, and that +settles it, and as long afterward as God's willing. Chances are that no +one at home will want to be bothered with an infant that don't actually +belong to 'em, so I shouldn't wonder but what I'll have her always. What +are you laughing at?” + +“I was just thinking that you didn't mention anything about being a +grandmother to her.” + +“Is that meant to be sarcastic?” + +“Not at all,” said the Captain hastily, noting the look in Mr. Mott's +eyes. “But for fear you may think it was, I take it all back, Andrew.” + +“I laid awake all last night worrying about how lonely and useless +and unoccupied I'm going to be if we stick here on this island for any +considerable length of time, not to say, always, and I made up my mind +that if I had that kid to bring up, life would be sort of worth while. +I'll probably live a good deal longer if I have something to live and +work for. Ain't that so?” + +“It certainly is,” agreed the Captain. “Do you mind my asking how you're +going to feed it?” + +“I've got that all attended to,” said Mr. Mott calmly. “I've been to +see three of these women who've got tiny babies, and they've promised +between 'em to nurse this one. It's all fixed, Captain. Of course, I +don't know how it's going to work out, seeing as one of 'em is Spanish, +one of 'em Portugee and the other a full-blooded Indian,--but they're +all healthy.” + +“It's very noble of you, Andrew,” said the Captain, laying his hand on +the First Officer's shoulder. + +“Absolutely not,” snapped Mr. Mott. “It's nothing but plain, rotten +selfishness on my part,--and I don't give a damn who knows it.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Inside of a fortnight after the events just chronicled, the women came +ashore to occupy the practically completed huts. + +The Doraine was deserted except for Captain Trigger and the half-dozen +sailors who remained with him. These sailors were ancient tars whose +lives had been spent at sea. They were grizzled, wizened old chaps. One +of them, Joe Sands, had been an able seaman for forty-six years, and, +despite a perpetual crick in the back, he insisted that he was still +an abler seaman than ninety-five per cent, of the thirty-year-olds +who followed the sea for a living. When Captain Trigger announced his +resolve to stay on board, where he belonged, these vainglorious old +seadogs elected to remain with him to the end. + +The exodus of women was hastened somewhat by the further listing of the +Doraine. This was due primarily to the removal of thousands of tons from +the holds, the galley and the engine room. A more sinister cause for +alarm, however, was the action of the greatly lightened vessel when a +tidal wave swept into the basin from the north. This came at the tag end +of the storm,--on the third day, in fact. The Doraine seemed actually to +be afloat for a few seconds, heaving, shuddering, groaning. Her bottom, +after scraping and grinding and giving up the most unearthly sounds, +suddenly appeared to have freed itself completely from the rocks on +which it was jammed. She seemed on the point of righting herself. Then +she started to roll over on her side! Almost as abruptly she stopped, +shivered, and then lay still again. But she was not in her old position. +She was lying over at least two degrees farther than before the +upheaval. + +This same, tremendous tidal wave, driven up by the strong wind that +had blown steadily and viciously out of the north for three +days,--or perhaps created by some vast internal convulsion of the +earth,--completely inundated the low-lying point of land known as Cape +Sunrise, At least two miles of the island was temporarily under water. +The high ridge lining the shore alone prevented the sea from hurtling +over into the valley to destroy the fields and gardens and even to +imperil the row of huts along the opposite slope. + +Out on Cape Sunrise the waters swept over the lonely grave of Betty +Cruise, but fell back baffled when they attacked the foothills that +protected the homes of the living. There were superstitious persons who +read meaning into this startling visitation of the sea. They made ugly +romance of it. For, said they, the lonely spirit of Jimmy Cruise was +trying to reach its mate,--aye, striving to drag her body down to the +bottom of the sea to lie beside his own. + +As the days went by,--long days that were not governed by any daylight +saving law,--the settlement took on the air and life of a sequestered +village. There was the general warehouse from which stores were +dispensed sparingly by agents selected for such duties. Women and +men went to market and carried home the provender. A fish market was +established; wood-yards, fruit and vegetable booths, a dispensary, and +a general store where leather, cloths of various description, and furs +were to be had by requisition. + +In speaking of the dispensary, Dr. Cullen complacently announced that +the supply of medicine was limited, but that it was nothing to worry +about. He declared bluntly,--and with a twinkle in his eye,--that people +took too much medicine anyhow. + +“Medicine is a luxury,” he said. “The more we stuff into people the more +they want, and the less they take the sooner they forget they're sick. +As your doctor, from this time on, I shall be delighted to set your +broken bones, sew up your gashes, and all that sort of thing, but it is +precious little medicine I'll give to you. So don't get sick. The only +epidemic we can have here, according to my judgment, is an epidemic of +good health. Am I right, gentlemen?” + +The two young American doctors put aside their dignity and grinned. + +The wines and liquors from the Doraine were brought ashore and locked +away in the cellar beneath the warehouse. It could be had only on the +doctor's orders. + +“It won't hurt any of us to drink nothing but water for awhile,” said +Percival in discussing the matter; “and the chances are we'll be less +likely to hurt each other if we let the grog alone. There'll be no +drinking on this island if I can help it. I understand some of you +men are planning to put the pulp of the algarobo through a process of +fermentation and make chica by the barrel. Well, if I have anything to +say about it, you'll do nothing of the sort. I know that stuff. It's got +more murder in it than anything I've ever tackled. We can make flour out +of that pulp, as some of you know, and that's all we are going to make +out of it. Besides, we can be decent longer on flour than we can on +chica. + +“We'll find it harder to do without tobacco than without booze, and +unless we discover something to take its place we'll be smokeless in +a few weeks. Professor Knapendyke is experimenting with a shrub he has +discovered here. He says it may be a fairly good substitute if properly +cured. But it won't be tobacco, so I guess we may as well make up our +minds to swear off smoking as well as drinking. I hope there's nothing +in the saying that the good die young. Because if there is, we're in for +an epidemic that will wipe out four-fifths of our population in no time +at all. We're going to be so good we'll die like flies.” + +The weeks wore on and the fields of grain were harvested. The yield was +not a heavy one, but it was sufficient to justify the rather hap-hazard +experiments. The fifty-odd acres of wheat produced a little over a +thousand bushels. The twenty-acre oat-field had averaged forty bushels. +A few acres of barley, sown broadcast in the calcareous loam along the +coast, amounted to nothing. + +Primitive means for grinding the grain had been devised. This first +crop was being laboriously crushed between roughly made mill-stones, but +before another harvest came along, a mill would be in operation on the +banks of Leap Frog River. + +The exploration of the island had long since been completed. In certain +parts of the dense forest covering the western section there were +magnificent specimens of the Norfolk Island pine. Fruits of the citrous +family were found in abundance; wild cherries, wild grapes, figs, and an +apple of amazing proportions and exceeding sweetness. Pigeons in great +numbers were found, a fact that puzzled Professor Knapendyke not a +little. + +He finally arrived at an astonishing conclusion. He connected the +presence of these birds with the remark-able exodus of wild pigeons from +their haunts in the United States in the eighties. Millions of pigeons +at that time took their annual flight southward from Michigan, Indiana +and other states in that region, and were never seen again. What became +of this prodigious cloud of birds still remains a mystery. Knapendyke +now advanced the theory that in skirting the Gulf of Mexico on their way +to the winter roosts in Central America they were caught by a hurricane +and blown out to sea. By various stages the bewildered survivors of the +gale made their way down the east coast of South America, only to +be caught up again by another storm that carried them out into the +Atlantic. A few reached this island, hundreds of miles from the +mainland, and here they remained to propagate. At any rate, the +naturalist was preparing to put his impressions and deductions into the +form of a paper which he intended to submit to the National Geographic +Magazine as soon as he returned to the United States. + +The more practical Mr. Fitts decided to start a squab farm. + +A few of the giant iguanas were seen, and many smaller ones. The meat +of the iguana is a great delicacy. There were no beasts of prey, no +herbaceous animals. + +Lookouts on Top o' the Morning Peak reported the presence of monstrous +birds at rare intervals. Where they came from and whither they went no +one could tell. There were unscalable cliffs and crags at the western +end of the island, and it is possible that they had their nests among +them. + +Lieutenant Platt described the first of these huge birds as being at +least thirty feet from tip to tip. It flew low above the top of Split +Mountain and disappeared beyond the hills to the west. When first +descried by one of the lookouts, this bird was far out over the ocean, +approaching the island from the east. As it soared over the heads of the +men, several hundred feet above them, its wings full spread, it was more +like a small monoplane than a bird. In colour it was a dirty yellow, +with a black belly and head. Before any one could procure a gun from the +hut it was out of range, flying at an incredible speed. A few days later +another was seen, coming from the same direction. It was flying much +higher, and a few futile shots were fired at it. Then, after a week or +ten days without a single one of the monsters being seen, five of them +appeared in the west and flew eastward over the island and out to sea. + +“What was the name of that passenger-carrying bird they were always +talking about in the 'Arabian Nights'?” inquired Platt. + +“You mean the roc,” replied Knapendyke. “If it ever really existed +outside of the fairy tales, it is now extinct. The nearest thing to it +in size is the condor, I suppose.” + +“I've seen some whopping big condors up in the Andes,” said Percival, +“but twelve feet from tip to tip was what the natives called a +full-grown specimen. What do you make of these birds, Flattner?” + +“After seeing an iguana eighteen feet long, I'm ready to believe +anything. A protracted and an enforced spell of sobriety is the only +thing that keeps me from diagnosing my own case as delirium tremens. +There's one thing sure. Birds as big as these, and iguanas as huge as +the three we've seen,--to say nothing of the enormous flying fish Morris +Shine claims to have seen,--take me back to the Dark Ages. I daresay +we're seeing the tag end of the giants. God knows how old these birds +and reptiles are,--hundreds of years, at least. I'd give almost anything +to get one of those birds and stuff him. There was once a flying animal +known as the pteranodon. It has been extinct for millions of years. +Belonged to the class called pterodactyls. Who knows? If you fellows +could shoot for sour apples, I'd have one of 'em.” + +Christmas and New Year's day, long since past, had been celebrated in +a mild, half-hearted way on board the Doraine. Easter was drawing +near, and Ruth Clinton took upon herself the task of arranging special +services for the children. She was going ahead with her plans when +her aunt, with some bitterness, advised her to consult the “King of +Babylon”--(a title surreptitiously accorded Percival by the unforgiving +lady)--before committing herself too deeply to the enterprise. + +“It would be just like him to cut Easter out of the calendar +altogether,” said she. + +“He cannot possibly have any objection to an Easter service,” protested +Ruth, her brow puckering. + +“There's no telling what he will object to,” said Mrs. Spofford. + +“He is really quite tenderhearted, and awfully fond of children, you +know. I am sure he will be very much pleased with the--Besides,” she +broke off to say with considerable heat, “Mr. Percival is not as high +and mighty as he imagines himself to be. Other people have something +to say about the management of this camp. You forget,--and so does he +perhaps,--that we have a council of ten. I rather fancy--” + +“Pooh!” sniffed her aunt. “He is worse than all the Tammany bosses put +together. The other men on the council of ten eat out of his hand, as +Abel Landover says. His word is law,--or, I should have said, his smile +is law. All he has to do is to grin and the argument is over. I've +never seen anything like the way people give in when he smiles. It is +disgusting.” + +“Please don't forget, Auntie, that he did not smile on Saturday when +Manuel Crust stopped him in front of the meeting-house and said he was +going to take Sunday off from work up in the woods. He didn't smile +then, did he? And there were a dozen men planning to take the day off +with Manuel Crust, too.” + +“I confess I was frightened,” admitted Mrs. Spofford, with a slight +shudder. “That Manuel Crust is a--a dangerous man. He carries a knife. I +saw it.” + +“Were your sympathies with Manuel Crust or Mr. Percival? Answer, +please.” + +“Naturally, my dear, I--why, of course, they were with Percival. He was +one man against a dozen. Besides, he does represent law and order. I +have never questioned that, have I?” + +“Weren't you a weeny, teeny bit proud of him yesterday, Aunt Julia?” + +“Weren't you?” countered the other. + +“I could have hugged him,” exclaimed Ruth, her eyes sparkling. “I hate +him,--mind you,--but I could have hugged him, just the same.” + +Mrs. Spofford looked searchingly into the girls clear, shining eyes. + +“I wish I knew just how much you hate him, Ruth.” + +“Be honest, Auntie. What you mean is, how little I hate him; isn't that +so?” + +“I don't believe you hate him at all.” + +“Well, the first chance you get, ask him how much I hate him. He will +tell you. Now let's talk about Easter Sunday. I don't in the least see +why I should go down on my knees to Mr. Percival in order to--” + +“Manuel Crust went down on his knees, didn't he?” + +“Don't be silly! Manuel Crust was leading a strike. I am arranging a +sacred entertainment.” + +“Still, if I were you, my dear, I would ask him what he thinks about +it.” + +“All right,” cried Ruth, “I'll ask him. And what's more, I shall ask him +to sing in the choir. He will love it.” + +Not only did Percival promise to sing in the choir, but he eagerly +offered to help her with the decorations. But when she announced that +she was going up into the hills in quest of the little red winter +berries that grew in profusion, he flatly put his foot down on the +project. + +“I don't feel any too sure of Manuel Crust and his gang,” said he. +“They're in an ugly mood and they are brutes, Miss Clinton. Don't be +alarmed. They're not likely to molest you or any one else, but I don't +believe in taking chances. Just at present they're pretty sore at me +and they're doing all they can to stir up discord. It will work out all +right in the end, of course. They may be beasts but they're not fools.” + +“Is it true that Manuel Crust claims that every man should have his +woman?” she asked steadily. + +He was surprised by the frank, unembarrassed question. “Crust is about +as vile as they make them, Miss Clinton. Most of these fellows are +decent, however.” + +“But you have not answered my question.” + +“I will answer it by saying that if he has any such notion as that in +his mind he will have it taken out of him in short order if he attempts +to put it into practice. The women on this island will be protected, +Miss Clinton, if we have to kill Manuel Crust and his fol-lowers. It +is true he has been preaching that sort of gospel among the vicious +and ignorant Portugees and half-casts, but it's all talk. Don't pay any +attention to it.” + +“We can't help being worried. Suppose his following is much larger than +you think. They are a rough, lawless crowd, and--” + +“Ninety-five per cent, of the men here are decent. That's the only +comfort I can give you.” He smiled his whimsical smile. “I think you +will find that you will be courted in the regular, old-fashioned way, +and proposed to with as much solemnity and uncertainty as if you were +back at home, and it will be left for you to choose your own husband. We +have two ministers of the gospel here, you know. I predict some rather +violent courtships, and perhaps a few ill-advised marriages, but you may +rest assured that no man is going to claim you until you claim him.” + +He was looking straight into her eyes. She felt the blood mounting to +her cheek,--and was conscious of a strange, delicious sensation as of +peril stealing over her. + +“You are most reassuring,” she managed to say, scarcely above a whisper, +and then paused expectant. + +Afterwards she was shamed by the exquisite pain of anticipation that +had coursed through her in that moment of waiting. She never could quite +account for the temporary weakness that assailed her and left her mute +and helpless under the spell of his eyes. She only knew that she waited +expectant,--for something that never came! What she might have said in +response, what she might have done if he had uttered the words she was +prepared to hear, she did not care to contemplate, even in the privacy +of her own thoughts. She only knew that she was ashamed of the thrill +that went over her and strangely bitter toward him for being the cause +of it. She would not admit to herself that disappointment had anything +to do with it,--for she found herself arguing, nothing could have been +more distressing than to rebuff him when he seemed so eager to help her +in her plans for Easter Sunday. + +The fact remains, however, that Percival held his tongue, and she never +quite understood why he did. + +The time and the place of this encounter invited confession. There was +a full moon in the heavens, the night was still, the air crisp with the +tang of October in the north,--and they were alone in the shadow of the +“tabernacle.” Lights gleamed in the little windows that stretched to +the right and left of them. Far off somewhere in the dark, an unseen +musician was gently thrumming a fandango on his Spanish guitar. She had +been on her way home from Careni-Amori's cabin, where she had gained the +prima-donna's promise to sing, when she saw him, walking slowly across +the “Green.” His hands were clasped behind his back, his head was bent. +She experienced a sudden rush of pity for him,--she knew not why, except +that he looked lonely and forgotten. It was she who turned aside from +her course and went out across the Green to join him. + +“You are most reassuring,” she had said. The dusky light of the moon +fell full upon her upturned face; her shadowy, limpid eyes were looking +straight into his; enchantment charged the air with its soft and +languorous breath,--and yet he looked away! + +After a moment he spoke. His voice was steady and,--to her,--almost +sardonic. + +“The day of the cave-man is past. Likewise the cannibal. I think I can +promise that you will neither be beaten nor eaten,--but you do run a +little risk in being abroad on such a night as this,--and alone.” + +She stiffened. “I don't think there is the slightest danger, Mr. +Percival.” + +“I wasn't thinking of danger,” he said. “There is a lot of difference +between danger and consequences. You see, you might have been mistaken +in your man. I might have turned out to be Manuel Crust.” + +“I--I--I was sure it was you,” she stammered, and wished she had not +said it. It was a confession that she knew his figure so well that she +could recognize it in the gloom of the night and at a distance that +should have rendered him almost invisible. + +“Even so, I am Manuel's brother under the skin,” he said. “Like Judy +O'Grady and the Colonel's lady, you know. However, all's well that ends +well, so what's the use of magnifying the peril that stalks through the +land.” + +“You were brought up on the good, old-fashioned novels, I see. That's +the language of heroes,--and heroes live only in novels, where they are +perfectly safe from harm, thanks to the benevolent author.” + +“You're right. I was brought up among the old-fashioned heroes. I lived +through every adventure they had, I longed for every girl they loved, +I envied everything they did, and I dreamed the most beautiful dreams +about prowess and virtue and love. I rather fancy I'm a better man +for having been a swashbuckling boy. I acquired the generous habit of +falling in love with every heroine I read about, and in my thoughts I +performed even more prodigious deeds of valour in her behalf than the +hero to whom she inevitably plighted her troth in the final chapter. In +real life, however, I've never been in a position to do anything more +heroic than give up my seat in trolley-cars to ladies of all ages,--By +the way, have you never longed desperately to be a heroine?” + +“Of course, I have,” she cried, smiling in spite of herself. Her eyes +were sparkling again, for the danger was past. “And I have loved a +hundred heroes,--madly.” She hesitated and then went on impulsively: “We +haven't been very friendly, Mr. Percival. Perhaps I am to blame. In any +case, you have been very generous and forbearing. That is more than I +have been. I never thought I could bring myself to the point of saying +this to you. Can't we be friends again?” + +He was silent for a moment. + +“Do you mean to go back to where we were before--Well, before we +clashed?” + +“Yes,--if you will put it in that way.” + +“I can't go back to that stage,” he said, shaking his head. “You may +have stood still, Miss Clinton, but I have progressed.” + +“I don't know what you mean.” + +“You will, after you reflect awhile,” he said. + +She drew back, in a sudden panic. She spoke hurriedly, her composure +wrecked. + +“I--at least, Mr. Percival, I have done my part. If you do not care +to be friends, I--I have nothing more to say. We must go on just as we +were,--and I am sorry. I have done my part.” + +“I do not want to distress you,” he said huskily. “If I were to tell +you why it is best for us to go on as we are, you would lose what little +faith you may still have in me. I have not always been able to conceal +my feelings. You do not care as I do,--and I have been pretty much of +a rotter in showing you just how I feel from time to time,--an ordinary +bounder, and God knows I hate the word,--so there's nothing more I can +say without distressing and offending you. I want you to feel perfectly +secure so far as I am concerned. We are out here alone in the night. If +I were to let go of myself now and say what I want to say to you,--well, +you would be frightened and hurt and,--God knows I wouldn't hurt you for +the world. I hope you understand, Miss Clinton.” + +She had had time to fortify herself. + +“Yes,--I understand,” she said, but not without a strange wonder filling +her mind. + +He was fair,--and yet he was baffling. She had not expected this rare +trait in him. Men she had known were not like this. The men who loved +her,--and they had been many,--were impetuous and insistent, demanding +much and offering everything,--vain-glorious warriors who counted +confidently on easy conquest. She had come in contact with but one class +of men: the spoiled, cocksure sons of the rich who love in haste and +have it over with while there is yet time to love again. She caught +herself guiltily wondering how many men of her acquaintance would have +allowed this engaging opportunity to pass without making the most of it! +And why should this man be different from the others? She experienced a +sharp feeling of irritation, and out of that sprang the wilful desire to +hurt him because he was different. So she lifted her chin, and looking +straight into his eyes, said: “I understand perfectly. You prefer that I +should not put you in the class with Manuel Crust.” + +“I'm not quite certain that Manuel's way of handling women isn't the +best after all,” he said musingly. “Ride over 'em rough-shod, trample +them under foot, kick them to one side and then ask them whether they +love you or not. If they say they don't, all you have to do is to behave +like a gentleman and leave them alone.” + +She laughed. “But suppose they were to say they did love you,--what +then?” + +“That, I understand, is what they generally do say,--and it causes a +great deal of trouble for the unfortunate gentleman.” + +“Are you never in earnest, Mr. Percival?” + +“I was very much in earnest a moment ago. You knew how much in earnest I +was or you wouldn't have said that nasty thing about Manuel Crust.” + +“I am sorry I said it,” she cried. “It was uncalled for,--and I was +deliberately trying to be mean.” + +“I knew it,” he said quietly. “I don't think any the worse of you for +it. A woman plays fair until you get her into a corner,--and then she +plays fairer than ever to make up for what she did when cornered. Am I +not right?” + +She did not reply. She was staring past him, down the line of huts. The +door of Olga Obosky's cabin had opened and closed, projecting for an +instant an oblong block of light into the darkness. The figure of a +woman, emerging into the full light of the moon, had caught Ruth's +attention. Percival turned quickly. Together they watched the figure +move swiftly across the Green toward them. Suddenly it stopped, and +then, after a moment, whirled and made off down the line of cabins, soon +to be swallowed up by the gloom. + +“Were you expecting some one?” inquired Ruth, icily. + +He was still looking intently into the far-reaching gloom. Neither had +spoken for many seconds. He started, and looked searchingly into her +eyes. + +“That was Madame Obosky,” he said. + +“I know. I recognized her,” said she evenly. + +“And you believe she was coming out here to meet me,--isn't that so?” + +She drew herself up. “I shall have to say good night, Mr. Percival. No! +It is not necessary for you to walk home with me.” + +He placed himself in front of her. “Would you mind answering my +question?” + +“Yes,” she flashed, “I think she was coming out here to meet you. Permit +me to pass, please.” + +He stood aside. “Good night, Miss Clinton.” + +He watched her until the door of her cabin swung open,--and he smiled +as she stood revealed for an instant in the square of light, for she had +obeyed the impulse to glance over her shoulder. + +She was angry, hurt, disgusted as she slammed the door behind her. + +“Where have you been?” cried out an accusing voice, and Ruth's gaze fell +upon the figure in one of the deck chairs beside the fire. “I have been +waiting for you for--” + +“How long have you been here?” cried the girl, stock-still and staring. + +“If Mrs. Spofford had not been so entertaining, I should say for hours +and hours,” said Madame Obosky. + +“As a matter of fact,” said Mrs. Spofford from her side of the +fireplace, “it hasn't been more than an hour. Madame Obosky came soon +after you went out, dear.” + +“But--but I saw you just now coming out of your cabin,” cried Ruth +blankly. She had a queer sensation as of the floor giving way beneath +her. + +“You saw--Oh, now I understand!” cried the Russian, with a laugh. “Zose +girls of mine! Zey--they are like so many grandmothers. They will not go +to bed until zey know I am safely tucked in myself. Alas, Mrs. Spofford, +zose girls do not trust me, I fear. If I go out at night alone, zey +instantly put their heads together and shake zem all at the same time. +So that is what has happen, Miss Clinton. One of them,--Alma, I suspect, +because she had a sister who,--Yes, it would be Alma, I am sure,--in any +case, one of zem comes out to get me, so like a policeman. But still I +do not understand something. I have told them I was coming here to see +you. If it was one of my girls, why has she not come?” + +Ruth had turned away, ostensibly to pull down the little window shade +but really to send a swift searching glance out across the Green. + +“She went the other way,” she replied, rather breathlessly. + +Olga sprang to her feet. “Now, what is zat little fool up to?” she +cried, angrily. “If I catch her running out to meet men at zis hour +of--” + +Ruth interrupted her. “She started in this direction but when she saw +us, she turned and went the other way. I was talking to Mr. Percival +out near the meeting-house. About the Easter services, Auntie,” she made +haste to say as Mrs. Spofford looked up in surprise. + +Olga was looking at her fixedly, an odd expression in her eyes, her lips +slightly parted. + +“He has promised to help me. He is delighted to sing in the choir. +Madame Careni-Amori will sing two solos. She promises to make Joseppi +sing one or two. I--I was discussing the arrangements with Mr. +Percival.” + +“Now I understand,” said Olga, gaily, but with the odd, inquiring look +still in her eyes. “Alma thought it was I. I have zem very well-trained, +those girls. She sees me with a man,--zip! She runs the other way as +fast as she can! That is the height of propriety,--is it not, Mrs. +Spofford?” + +“I do not quite understand what you mean, Madame Obosky.” + +“Why did he say it was you?” cried Ruth, hot with chagrin. + +Olga shrugged her shoulders. “He is so very amiable,” said she. “I dare +say he thought it would please you.” + +Ruth bit her lip. There was no mistaking the challenge in the Russian's +remark, however careless it may have sounded. + +“I came to see you about Mr. Percivail's birthday,” said Olga, abruptly +changing the subject. “Some one has suggested zat we all join in giving +him a grand great big celebration. Bonfires, fire-works, a banquet with +speeches, and all zat kind of thing. What do you think, eh?” + +“He wouldn't like it at all,” said Ruth promptly. “Moreover, why should +we celebrate his birthday? He doesn't deserve it any more than scores of +other--” + +“Oh, then we must drop it altogether,” broke in Olga, rather +plaintively. “I thought every one would be in favour of it. But, of +course, if there is the slightest opposition--” + +“I do not oppose it,” said Ruth coldly. “Pray do not let me upset your +plans.” + +“It is not my plan. Zat nice, sarcastic Mr. Fitts, and Mr. Malone, and +Captain Trigger, they have proposed it, Miss Clinton, not I. But men +never quite get over being boys. They do not stop to question whether +a thing is right or wrong. I dare say after they have thought a little +longer over it, zey will agree with you that it is foolish to be so +enthusiastic about this fellow Percivail,--and the whole project will +dissolve into thin air.” + +Her hand was on the latch. She met Ruth's harassed, unhappy gaze +with her indolent, almost insolent, smile. Suddenly the American girl +snatched up her jacket and the little fur collar she had thrown across a +chair in the corner. + +“If you don't mind, I will walk part of the way home with you,” she +said. + +Olga opened the door and looked out. “Thank you,--I am not afraid. Pray +do not think of it,--I cannot permit you to come. It is late,--and the +moon is under the clouds. Good night,--good night, Mrs. Spofford.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +She quickly closed the door behind her and sped off down the line of +now lightless cabins. A man stepped out of the black shadow beyond +the second cabin and stood in her path. She did not pause, but walked +swiftly, fearlessly up to him, her heart quickening under the thrill of +exultation. He was waiting for her! He had been waiting for her all the +long evening. The time had come! + +The night was dark now; a strong wind had sprung up to drive the black +and storm-laden clouds across the moonlit sky. She held out her hands +with a little moan of ecstasy,--and then she was in his strong, crushing +arms, pressed fiercely to his breast. + +“God, can I believe,--is it true? You have come,--you have come of your +own free will,--you are here in my arms!” His hot lips found hers in a +wild, passionate kiss. “Speak to me! Tell me it is all real,--that I am +not dreaming. Oh, Ruth, Ruth,--darling!” + +Her body stiffened. A convulsive shudder raced over her, and then, for +an instant, she was limp and heavy in his embrace. Then suddenly she +threw her arms about his neck and kissed him furiously, savagely, again +and again,--breaking away at last with a low, suffocating laugh. + +“Now,--now,-” she cried, “now, what are you going to do with me?” + +He lifted his head with a jerk, peering into her face, slow to realize +the incredible mistake he had made. He was still under the spell of the +riotous passion that her lustful response had aroused. It had rushed +over him like a great, resistless wave,--hot, delicious, tingling. He +had been amazed, bewildered by the unbelievable craving,--furious and +uncontrolled,--which she revealed in her momentary surrender to the +elemental. The truth began to dawn upon him even before she spoke. Could +this be Ruth,--could this unbridled, voluptuous wanton who clung to him +and smothered him with kisses be the pure, high-minded girl he had grown +to love and revere? She spoke, and then he knew that the consuming fire +in his blood was unholy,--as unholy as the spark that set it ablaze. + +“Damn you!” he whispered hoarsely,--but he did not put her away from +him. The lure of the flesh was upon him. It was stronger than his will, +stronger than his love. + +For months this woman had beguiled him. There had been times when he was +compelled to fight himself,--times when he asked: “Why not?” + +She was alluring, she was frankly a sensualist; but she was patient, she +was crafty. She knew that he was honourably in love with another, but +she was not deterred by that nor by the conviction that her conquest, +if she prevailed, would be transitory. She had a code of her own. It +included an uncertain element of honour, fixed rather rigidly upon what +she would have called constancy. Singleness of purpose was her notion of +morality. She would not have believed herself to be a bad woman any more +than she would have looked upon her lover as a bad man. To her, morality +in its accepted sense signified no more than the suppression of human +emotions and human sensations. As a matter of fact, she considered +herself a good woman if for no other reason than that she steadfastly +had repelled the munificent appeals of countless infatuated men. +Treasure had been laid at her feet, only to be kicked aside. She calmly +spoke of herself as a pearl without price. She was content to possess, +but not to be possessed. That was what she called self-respect. She was +a pagan, but she was her own idol. She worshipped herself. She would +never permit her idol to be desecrated. + +All this Percival knew,--or rather sensed. He was not above feeling +a queer sort of respect and admiration for her. She was not without +integrity. + +He had reached the pinnacle of happiness in believing that the girl he +loved was in his arms. He was blind and deaf with ecstasy. The awakening +was a shock. His senses reeled for an instant,--and then Ruth Clinton +went out of his thoughts entirely! + +“Damn you!” he cried again, and drew her close. “She hates me,--she +will always hate me,” he was mumbling. “Why should I care? Why should +I refuse to take--” Her lips were on his again, warm, firm, voluptuous, +drawing his heart's blood with the resistless power of a magnet. + +They did not hear the rapid approach of footsteps--heavy, swift as of +one running. A dark, panting figure raced past them, and then another +but a few paces behind. + +Percival's senses were released. They cast off the bewitching bonds. His +head went up again. In a flash his brain was clear. His arms were still +about her, she was still lying close against him,--but the current of +passion that consumed both of them was checked. + +“What was that?” she gasped, as if coming out of a dream. + +He released her, and sprang out into the path to peer fruitlessly after +the unseen runners. The sound of footsteps was rapidly diminishing. + +They were suddenly aware of women's voices far away to the right. +They were indistinct but there was a sinister significance in the +ever-increasing volume. + +“There's trouble out there,” said Percival. “Something wrong. +Come,--come along! You must get indoors at once.” He grasped her arm +and started rapidly off in the direction of her cabin. She stumbled +at first, but quickly fell into stride with him. Men's shouts were now +added to the clamour. + +“I know,--I know,” she cried in his ear. “It has happened, just as I +said it would. Some of these men are beasts.” + +“Then, there's hell to pay,” he grated. + +They reached her cabin just as the door was thrown open. The three +startled coryphees filled the entrance. Recognition was followed by a +clatter of agitated voices. Olga was fairly dragged into the cabin. + +“Bolt your door,” was Percival's command as he turned away. + +She stood in the door for a moment, looking after him. He passed out +of the radius of light. The chorus of voices grew louder down the +way,--like the make-believe mob in the theatre. + +Then she closed the door slowly, reluctantly. The three girls watched +her in silence as she stood for many seconds with her hand on the knob, +her eyes tightly shut. + +She turned and faced them. There was a wry smile on her lips as +she shrugged her shoulders and spread out her hands in a gesture of +resignation. + +“Yes,--bolt the door,” she said. As Alma hesitated, her eyes grew hard, +her voice imperative. “Do you know of any reason why you should not do +as both Mr. Percivail and I have commanded?” + +“No,--no, Madame,” cried Alma hastily. + +As the heavy wooden bolt fell into place, Olga again shrugged her +shoulders and threw herself into a chair in front of the fireplace. + +“Put on your clothes,” she ordered. + +“What is happening, Madame? What is all the noise about?” questioned one +of the girls. + +But there was no answer. Olga was staring into the fire. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Percival's blood was still in a tumult as he ran down the line of +cabins. From every doorway men were now stumbling, half-dressed, +half-asleep. Behind them, in many cabins, alarmed, agitated women +appeared. Farther on there were lanterns and a chaotic mass of moving +objects. Above the increasing clamour rose the horrible, uncanny wail +of a woman. Percival's blood cooled, his brain cleared. Men shouted +questions as he passed, and obeyed his command to follow. + +The ugly story is soon told. Philippa, the fifteen-year-old daughter of +Pedro, the head-farmer, had gone out from her father's cabin at dusk +to fetch water from the little reservoir that had been constructed +alongside Leap Frog River a short distance above the cabins. The pool +was a scant two hundred yards from her home. It was a five minutes' +walk there and back. Half-an-hour passed, and she had not returned. Her +mother became uneasy. Pedro reassured her. He laughed at her fears. + +“She could not have fallen into the pool,” he said. “You forget the +fence we have built around it.” + +“I am not thinking of the pool, Pedro,” she argued. “Go you at once and +search for her. She is no laggard. She has not stopped in to see one of +the girls.” + +And Pedro went grumpily forth to search for his daughter. An hour later +he came staggering down from the woods above the pool to meet the dozen +or more friends and neighbours who had set out some-time earlier to look +for the two of them, father and daughter. + +He bore in his arms the limp, apparently lifeless form of Philippa. +He was covered with blood, he was chattering like a madman. Out of his +incoherent babble the horrified searchers were able to put together the +cruel story. It seems he had heard a faint cry far back in the dense +wood,--another and yet another. Then utter silence. Even the night-birds +were still. Swift, paralysing fear choked him. He tried to call out as +he rushed blindly up from the pool into the forest, but only hoarse, +unnatural gasps left his lips. He fell often, he crashed into the trunks +of trees, but always he went onward, gasping out his futile cries. He +knew not how long he beat through the forest. He was not even sure +that it was Philippa's cry he had heard, but his soul was filled with a +great, convincing dread. He knew that his beloved Philippa, the idol +of his heart, the sunshine of his life, was up there in the woods. +Frequently he stopped to listen. He could hear nothing save the pounding +of his own heart, and the wheezing of his breath, thick and laboured. + +Then, at last, during one of those silences, he heard something moving +in the darkness near at hand. Something--some one was coming toward him +through the underbrush. He called out hoarsely: “Philippa!” The sound +ceased instantly, and then he heard a whispered execration. Wild rage +possessed him. He plunged forward into the brush. Something crashed down +upon his head, and he felt himself falling forward. The next he knew, +he was trying vainly to rise to his feet. Something hot was running into +his eyes,--hot and sticky. He lifted his hand to his head; it came away +wet. He put his fingers into his mouth,-and tasted blood! It was +enough. His strength came back. He sprang to his feet and rushed onward, +shouting, cursing, calling upon God! He had no recollection of finding +his girl. Apparently everything was a blank to him until long afterwards +he saw lights moving among the trees, and voices were calling his name. + +Percival and other cool-headed men were hard put to check the fury of +the mob. Men and women, bent on vengeance, made the night hideous with +their curses, howls and shrieks. In their senseless fury they prepared +to kill. They had heard the stories about Manuel Crust and his +disciples. Only the determined stand taken by the small group that +rallied to Percival's support kept the maddened crowd from seeking out +these men and rending them limb from limb. The sailors from the Doraine +were the first to listen to the pleas of the level-headed,--just as they +had been the first to demand the lives of Manuel Crust and his gang. +Individually they were rough men and lawless, collectively they were +the slaves of discipline. It was to their vanity that Percival and the +others appealed,--only they called it honour instead of vanity. The mob +spirit was--quelled for the time being, at least. No one was so foolish +as to believe that it was dead, however. Unless the man guilty of the +shocking crime was found and delivered up for punishment, the inevitable +would happen. + +“We'll get the right man,” said the voice of universal fury, “if we have +to cut the heart out of every one of Manuel Crust's gang.” + +The women were the worst. They fought like wildcats to reach the cabins +occupied by the known followers of Manuel Crust. With knives and axes +and burn-ing faggots they tried again and again to force their way +through the stubborn wall of men that had been raised against them. + +As for Manuel Crust and his little group of radicals, they had vanished. +They had mingled with the mob at the outset. There were many who +recalled seeing this one and that one, remembered speaking to him, +remembered hearing him curse the ravisher. But as their own names began +to run from lip to lip, they silently, swiftly disappeared. + +Dawn found the camp awake, but grimly silent. No one had gone to bed. +With the first streak of day, the man-hunt began in earnest. All night +long the camp had been patrolled. Every cabin had been searched, even +those occupied solely by women. This search had been conducted in +an orderly, business-like way under the supervision of men chosen by +Percival. The folly of beating the woods during the night was recognized +even by the most impatient; there was time enough for that when the +blackness of night had lifted. + +Throughout the long night, the restless crowd, with but one thought in +mind, hung about the cabin of Pedro the farmer. The doctors and several +of the nurses were in there. Down at the meeting-house a bonfire had +been started, and here were grouped the men to whom the leaders had +intrusted firearms and other weapons,--men of the gun crew, under +officers from the Doraine, the committee of ten and others. + +It was accepted as a fact that two men were involved in the heinous +deed. Percival's account of the mysterious runners seemed definitely to +establish this. He called upon Olga Obosky to verify his statement. If +she was surprised by his admission that he was in her company when the +men rushed past them in the darkness, she did not betray the fact. She +indulged in a derisive smile when he went on to explain that it was so +dark he had failed to recognize her until she spoke to him. She agreed +with him that the two men must have come into the open a very short +distance above them, having sneaked out between the cabins before +suddenly breaking into a run. Avoiding the beaten roadway, they had laid +their course twenty or thirty feet to the right of it, keeping to the +soft, springy turf. + +Percival had issued orders for the entire camp to congregate on the +Green at the first sign of day. The cold grey light of dawn fell upon +vague, unreal forms moving across the open spaces from all directions. +There was no shouting, no turmoil, scarcely the sound of a voice. The +silent, ghostly figures merged into a compact, motionless mass in front +of the meetinghouse. It was not necessary for Percival to call for order +when he appeared on the steps and began to speak. The only sounds were +the shuffling of feet, the rustling of garments, the deep, restrained +breathing of the mass. + +He spoke partly in English and partly in Spanish, and he was brief. + +“You know what we are here for and what is ahead of us. I don't have to +tell you the story of last night. You know it as well as I. You will be +glad to hear the latest word from Dr. Cullen. Philippa is conscious. He +thinks she will recover. She is having the best of care and attention. I +will explain why we are all here now. The first thing for us to do is to +count noses. We will go about it as rapidly as possible. After that, we +will get down to business. Mr. Landover and Mr. Malone will check off +the name of every man, woman and child. As your names are called, come +forward, answer, and then move over beyond the corner of the building. +We've got to find out just who is missing,--if any one is missing at +all.” + +He raised his voice. “I want you all to keep cool. Don't forget that we +are after the men who committed this crime. We have no right to say that +Manuel Crust or any of his crowd did this thing until we have positive +proof of the fact. It may not have been any of Manuel's gang, don't +forget that, people. We must make no mistakes. I am saying this to you +now because I see Manuel Crust and some of his friends standing over +there at the edge of the clearing. Stop! Don't make a move in their +direction. We've all had time to think,--we've all had time to get +ourselves in hand. There is a right and a wrong way to handle this +thing,--and we've got to be sure we're right. The guilty cannot escape. +They haven't a chance, and you know it. So, let's be sure,--let's be +dead sure before we accuse any man. We have no right to charge Manuel's +gang with this crime. The guilty men may be here among us,--absolutely +unsuspected. Chizler! You and Soapy Shay go over and tell those men that +we are taking a count of all the people in this camp. Tell them to come +and answer to their names. They will be safe.” + +The count was never completed. Manuel Crust did not wait for his name +to be called. He pushed his way through the crowd, leaving his followers +behind. Advancing to the foot of the steps he cried out hoarsely to +Percival: + +“If you want your men, I--I, Manuel Crust, will lead you to one of them. +He is up there in the wood. Three men are guarding him. He is Sancho +Mendez, the blacksmith. Listen, I will tell you. It is the God's truth +I tell. There were seven of us hiding out there in the wood. We were +scared. We heard our names called out. We had heard the threats to burn +us alive. We ran away. We were not cowards,--but still we ran away. We +would wait till the crowd cooled off. That was my advice. Then we would +return,--then we would help to find the men who did it,--and we would +help to burn them alive. An hour ago Sancho Mendez crawled out of the +brush up there above the landing and begged us to protect him. His leg +was broken. He had fallen over a log. You all know Sancho Mendez. He was +a good boy. He was the friend of Boss Percival. He was no friend to me. +But he swears he will be my slave for ever if I will save him. Then he +tells us everything. When I ask him why the hell he run away, he says he +lose his mind or something. He just go crazy, he says. He say everybody +was chasing him,--he could hear them in the bushes, he could hear that +girl screaming out his name,--and all that. He was going to jump in the +water and drown, because he say people tell him always it is the easy +way to die. But he falls down and breaks his leg,--here below the knee. +He cannot run no more. It is all up. He is afraid to breathe. People are +all around him with knives and axes and clubs. He can hear them in the +brush. Then the daylight comes, and he sees us down below in the wood, +and he says he thanks God. I will be his friend,--I will save him +because I am an angel from heaven! Bah! I spit in his face. We tie him +to a tree with our belts, and then I come down to tell Boss Percival we +have his man,--his good and loyal friend.” + +“Stop!” yelled Percival, as the crowd began to show symptoms of breaking +away. “Listen to me! I give you fair warning. I don't want to do it, +but, by God, I'll order these men to shoot the first who tries to start +anything. We're going to have law and order here. This man Sancho is +going to have a fair trial. What's more, he had a companion. What does +he say of the other man, Manuel Crust?” + +“Sancho Mendez says he was alone. There was no other man.” + +Percival looked hard into Manuel Crust's bloodshot eyes. An appalling +thought had suddenly flashed into his mind. Many seconds passed before +he dared to open his lips. As if by divine revelation the situation lay +bare before him,--the whole Machiavelian scheme as conceived by Manuel. +Sancho Mendez was to be sacrificed! + +Even as he stood there speechless, the plan began to work toward its +well-calculated end. Manuel's friends started to harangue the crowd. +They were growling hoarse invectives, shaking their fists in the +direction of the wood, fanning the pent-up fury of the mob into a +whirlwind that would sweep everything before it. Once the tide turned +there would be no stopping it until Sancho Mendez was torn to pieces. He +would shriek his innocence into deaf ears. And that was Manuel's game. + +Percival's heart leaped with joy as he saw the armed force under +Lieutenant Platt move swiftly into a position barring the way to the +woods. He thrilled with a mighty pride in the shrewd intelligence and +resourcefulness of this trained fighting-man from the far-off homeland. + +Manuel Crust was turning away to mingle with the crowd. Quick as a +flash, Percival was down from the steps and at the “Portugee's” side. He +grasped the man's arm. + +“I've got a gun against your back,” he cried in fierce suppressed tones. +“Stand still and keep your mouth shut, or I'll drill a hole through you. +You're safe if you do as I tell you, Crust. I'm onto your little game. +I'm not saying you are the guilty man, but you know who he is,--and it +won't work.” + +Manuel Crust was as rigid as a block of stone. He did not even turn his +head to look into the face of the man who held him. + +Michael Malone and Landover were at Percival's side in an instant. From +their position on the steps they could see what was not visible to +the crowd beyond,--the revolver that was pressed against the small of +Crust's back. + +“Cover this man,” whispered Percival to Malone. “Shoot if he opens his +mouth.” + +Malone's revolver was jammed against the “Portugee's” back, and Percival +sprang back up the steps. + +Manuel Crust shot a look of surprise at Abel Landover. + +“What the hell--” he began, but choked off the words at a command from +Malone. While Percival was rapidly calling out orders from above, he +broke out recklessly again, addressing the stern-faced banker. + +“Are you my friend or not?” he snarled. “What kind of a man are you? +Speak up! Tell them I'm all right.” + +“Keep quiet,” warned Malone. + +Landover's eyes met the searching, questioning gaze of the Portuguese. +Manuel Crust apparently was satisfied with what he read in them, for a +quick gleam of confidence leaped into his own. His chest swelled with a +tremendous intake of breath. + +The remarkable personality,--or perhaps the magnetism,--of the “boss,” + again asserted itself. He made no allusion to the thing uppermost in his +mind as he spoke hurriedly, emphatically to the tense throng. When he +directed Randolph Fitts to take a few picked men with him up into the +woods to bring down the captive, there were mutterings but no move on +the part of the crowd either to anticipate or to follow the detachment. +A few terse words to Buck Chizler sent that active young man after +Fitts, the bearer of instructions. Sancho Mendez was to be brought in +alive. His guards were not to be given a chance to kill him when they +realized that the scheme had failed and he would be allowed to tell his +own story. + +With the departure of Fitts and his men, Percival ordered the people to +return to their cabins. He promised them that Sancho Mendez should have +his just deserts. Slowly, reluctantly the crowd broke up and shuffled +away in small groups across the dewy Green. Manuel Crust was free to +go. The few words that passed between Landover and Percival, although +unheard by the man, sufficed to put courage back into his heart. He had +come to look upon the banker as his “pal”! And his “pal” had not failed +him! + +This is what Landover said to Percival: + +“Whatever may be in your mind, Percival, I want to say this to you. I +was in Manuel Crust's cabin when the thing happened. There were eight +of us there. I can point out to you the other six. I must beg you to +overlook the fact that we are not friends, and believe what I am saying. +It is the absolute truth.” + +“I will take your word for it, Mr. Landover,” said Percival, after a +moment. “I am aware of your dealings with Crust and his crowd. I don't +know what the game is, but I do know that you have been fostering +discontent,--it may even amount to revolt,--among; these men. If you say +you were with Crust and that he was not out of your sight all evening, +I will believe you. You may be a misguided, domineering fool, Mr. +Landover, but you are honest. You have failed to appreciate what you +were stirring up,--what you were letting yourself and all the rest of us +in for, that's all.” + +Landover flushed. He compressed his lips for a second or two before +speaking. + +“My opposition to you as a dictator, Percival, hardly warrants the +implication that I am in a sense responsible for the devilish thing that +happened last night.” + +“I grant you that,” said Percival. “Nevertheless, it is your purpose to +down me, no matter what it costs,--isn't that true?” + +“No, it is not true. There is an honest, sincere belief on the part of +some of us that you are not the man to rule this camp. You may call it +politics, if you like,--or revolt, if you prefer.” + +“We'll call it politics, Mr. Landover. It was not politics that made me +the superintendent of construction here, however. I've looked after the +job to the best of my ability. I am ready to retire whenever the people +decide they've found a better man. You may be right in supposing that +Manuel Crust is the right man for the job,--but I don't agree with you.” + +Landover started. “Nothing is farther from my thoughts than to turn the +affairs of this camp over to Crust,” he said. + +“Once more I agree with you. But that is what you will be doing, just +the same. If you think that Manuel Crust is going to play second fiddle +to you, Mr. Landover, you'll suddenly wake up to find yourself mistaken. +You know what Crust is advocating, don't you? Well, I guess there's +nothing more to be said on the subject.” + +“We will drop it, then,” said Landover curtly. “I merely want you to +understand that Crust had no hand in last night's affair. I can vouch +for that.” + +“Can you vouch for each and every member of his gang?” + +“I know nothing about his gang, as you call it. If I am not +mistaken, this fellow Mendez is one of your pet supporters. He may be +double-crossing you.” + +“We'll see. For the present, your friend Crust is safe. As long as he +lives within the law, he is all right. We're going to have law and order +here, Mr. Landover. I want you to understand that. The best evidence +that most of us want law and order is the incredible manner in which +these people have curbed their natural instincts.” + +“No one wants law and order more than I,” said Landover. + +“And I suppose Manuel Crust is of the same mind, eh?” + +“So far as I know, he is,” replied the other firmly. + +Percival looked at him in blank astonishment. “Well, I'm damned!” he +said, after a moment. “Do you really believe that?” + +“It does not follow that he is an advocate of lawlessness and disorder +because he happens to be opposed to some of your pet schemes, does it, +Mr. Percival?” inquired Landover ironically. + +“One of my pet schemes happens to conflict seriously with Manuel's pet +scheme, if that will strengthen your argument any, Mr. Landover.” + +“I don't believe Crust ever had any such thought,” said the other +flatly. + +“We're not getting anywhere by arguing the point,” said Percival. He +turned to walk away. + +“Just a moment,” called out Landover, after the younger man had taken a +few steps. “See here, Percival, I don't want you to misunderstand me. If +there is anything in this talk about Crust,--you know what I mean,--and +if it should come to the point where stern measures are required, I will +be with you, heart and soul. You know that, don't you?” + +Percival studied the banker's face for a moment. “I've never doubted it +for an instant, Landover. We may yet shake hands and be friends in spite +of ourselves.” + +Landover turned on his heel and walked away, and Percival, with a shrug +of his shoulders, set about making preparations to safe-guard Sancho +Mendez when he was brought in from the wood. He posted a number of +reliable, cool-headed men around the “meetinghouse,” many of them being +armed. Arrangements were made for barricading the door and the few +windows. The prisoner was to be confined in the building, a long, low +structure, and there he was to tell his story and stand trial. There was +to be no delay in the matter of a trial. + +“You will sit as judge, Mike,” said the “boss,” addressing Malone. +“There will not be any legal technicalities, old man, and there won't be +any appeal,--so all you've got to do is to act like a judge and not like +a lawyer. We've got to do this thing in the regular way. Try to forget +that you have practiced in the New York City courts. Remember that there +is such a thing as justice and pay absolutely no attention to what you +are in the habit of calling the law. The law is a beautiful thing if you +don't take it too seriously. Ninety-nine out of every hundred judges in +the courts of the U. S. A. sit through a trial worrying their heads +off trying to remember the law so that they can keep out of the record +things that might make them look like jackasses when the case is carried +up to a higher court,--and while they are thinking so hard about the law +they forget all about the poor little trifle called justice. I guess you +know that as well as I do, so there's no use talking about it.” + +“I guess I do,” said Michael Malone. “I live on technicalities when I'm +in New York. If it were not for technicalities, I'd starve to death. +And, my God, man, if we had to stop and think about justice every time +we go into court, we'd be a disgrace to the profession.” + +Percival, Peter Snipe, Flattner and several others strode out from the +meeting-house and swept the long line of huts with serious, apprehensive +eyes. They had expected to find the people congregated at some nearby +point, ready to swoop down upon the prisoner the instant he appeared +with his captors at the edge of the wood. To their amazement and relief, +the people had taken Percival's command literally. They had retired +to their huts, and but few of them were to be seen, even on their +doorsteps. + +“Can you beat it?” cried Snipe. “By golly, boys, they've put it squarely +up to us. It's the greatest exhibition of restraint and confidence I've +ever known. This couldn't have happened at home. Hello!” + +The gaze of all was centred upon two persons who walked rapidly in the +direction taken by Fitts and his party. No one spoke for a few seconds. +Flattner, after a quick look at Percival's set, scowling face, was the +first to speak. To a certain degree, he understood the situation. It was +out of pure consideration for his friend's feelings that he said: + +“I'll go and head 'em off, A. A.” + +“Thanks, old chap,--but there's no sense in getting yourself disliked. +I'll do it. I'm in bad already,--and besides I'm the one who gave the +order.” + +Near the end of the row of huts, he drew alongside of Ruth Clinton and +Landover. + +“The order was meant for every one, Miss Clinton,” he said levelly. “Am +I to understand that you have decided to ignore it?” + +She stopped short and drew herself up haughtily. Their eyes met. There +was defiance in hers. She did not speak. Landover confronted Percival, +white with fury. + +“I am capable of looking after Miss Clinton,” he exclaimed. “Your +beastly officiousness--” + +“You will go back to your cabin at once, Miss Clinton,” said Percival, +ignoring Landover. + +She did not move. + +“Miss Clinton came out here at my suggestion,” said Landover. “If you +have any more bullying to do, confine yourself to me, Percival.” + +“I am not doing this because I enjoy it, Miss Clinton,” went on the +young man, still looking into her unwavering eyes. “I am sorry it is +necessary to remind you that there are no privileged classes here. You +will have to obey orders the same as every one else.” + +“Very well,” she said, suddenly lowering her eyes. “Take me back to the +cabin, Mr. Landover. There is nothing more to say.” + +Percival stood aside. They walked past him without so much as a glance +at his set, unsmiling face. Landover slipped an arm through hers. She +did not resist when he drew her up close to his side. Percival saw him +lean over and speak to her after they had gone a few paces. His lips +were close to her ear, but though his voice was low and repressed, the +words were distinctly audible to the young man. + +“Ruth darling, I am sorry,--I can't tell you how sorry I am for having +subjected you to this insult. God, if I could only help matters by +resenting it, I--” + +She broke in, her voice as clear as a bell. + +“Oh, if I were only a man,--if I were only a man!” + +They were well out of hearing before Percival looked despairingly up at +the pink and grey sky and muttered with heartfelt earnestness: + +“I wish to God you were. I'd like nothing better than to be soundly +threshed by you.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Just before sunset that evening, Sancho Mendez was publicly hanged. +Confessing the crime, he was carried to the rude gibbet at the far edge +of the wheat field and paid the price in full. He had been tried by a +jury of twelve; and there was absolutely no question as to his guilt. +His companion, a lad named Dominic, callously betrayed by the older man, +fled to the forest and it was not until the second day after the +hanging that he was found by a party of man-hunters, half-starved and +half-demented. He was hanged at sunrise on the following day. + +Manuel Crust considered himself glorified. After a fashion, he posed +as a martyr. Some sort of cunning, as insidious as it was unexpected, +caused him to assume an air of humility. He went about shaking his head +sorrowfully, as if cut to the quick by the unjust suspicions that had +been heaped upon him by the ignorant, easily-persuaded populace. + +Sentiment began to swing toward him. He and his so-called followers were +vindicated. It was his gloomy, dejected contention that if Providence +had not intervened he and his honest fellows undoubtedly would have been +placed in the most direful position, so strong and so bitter was +the prejudice that conspired against him. He was constantly thanking +Providence. And presently other people undertook to thank Providence +too. They began to regard Manuel as a much-abused man. + +The burly “Portugee” haunted the cabin of Pedro the farmer. He was the +most solicitous and the most active of all who strove to befriend and +encourage the unhappy father, and no one was more devoted than he to the +slowly-recovering girl. He carried flowers to Pedro's hut; he did many +chores for Pedro's wife; he went out into the woods and killed the +plumpest birds he could find and cooked them himself for Pedro's +daughter. + +Presently he began to assert a more or less proprietary interest in the +family. It was no uncommon thing for him to issue orders to the nurses; +he hectored the Doctor; and on several occasions he went so far as to +offend such well-meaning ladies as Mrs. Spofford, Madame Careni-Amori, +Mrs. Block and others when they appeared at Pedro's cabin with +delicacies for the girl. And finally the people in that end of the camp +began to speak of Manuel Crust as a good fellow and a gentleman! + +On Easter Sunday he stood guard over Pedro's cabin while that worthy and +his family went to the “Tabernacle” to attend the special services. Two +of the nurses were inside with the girl, but outside sat Manuel, a grim +watch-dog that growled when any one approached. + +The horror of that black night and the days that witnessed the wiping +out of Sancho Mendez and Dominic hung like a pall over the camp. Both +executions had been witnessed by practically all of the inhabitants. +Captain Trigger came ashore. + +With set, relentless faces the people watched two men go to their doom. +The women were as stony-faced, as repressed, as the men. Save for the +involuntary groans, and the queer hissing sound of long-pent breath as +the black-capped figures swung off into space, the tremulous hush of +intense restraint rested upon the staring crowd. + +Twice they came out to see men they had known and respected “hanged by +the neck until dead,” and on neither occasion was there the slightest +manifestation of pity, nor was there a single word of gloating. They +watched and then they went away, leaving the victims to be disposed +of by the men selected for the purpose. No shouts, no execrations, no +hysterical cries or sobs,--nothing save the grim silence of awe. For +these people, even to the tiniest child, had ceased to live in the light +of other days. + +Peter Snipe, in his journal, wrote of that silent, subdued throng as +other historians have written of the rock-hearted people of Salem, and +of the soulful Puritans who grew heartless in the service of the Lord. + +They stood afar-off and watched the small detachment of sailors carry +the bodies down to the basin, and every one knew that Sancho Mendez and +Dominic, heavily weighted, were rowed out to the middle and dumped into +a bottomless grave. Some there were who declared that their bodies would +sink for ages before reaching the bottom,--and no one thought of Sancho +Mendez and Dominic without picturing them as gliding deeper and deeper +into the endless abyss of water. + +Michael Malone's speech to the multitude on the shorn edge of the wheat +field was brief. He spoke from the scaffold on which Sancho Mendez, the +blacksmith, sat with a noose around his neck. + +“This man has been fairly tried and he is being fairly punished. There +is no way to circumvent the laws of God or the laws of man on this +island, my friends. The guilty cannot escape. If we transgress the law, +we must pay in proportion to our transgression. This man is to die. +The laws of our homeland would not have demanded the life of such as +he,--but they should, my friends, they should. This island is small. +It will be easy for us to keep it clean,--and we must keep it clean. +We must not live in fear of each other. The lion and the lamb lie down +together here; the thief and the honest man walk hand in hand. Our sins +will find us out. We cannot hide them. Remember that. In this little +land of ours there is nothing to stand in the way of the soundest +principle ever laid down for man. 'Do unto others as ye would have +others do unto you.' That is the Golden Rule. All we have to do is to +observe that rule and there will be no use for the Ten Commandments, +nor the laws of Moses, nor all the laws that man has made. We don't even +have to be Christians. 'Do unto others as ye would have others do +unto you.' That, my friends, is the law of laws. It is the religion of +religions.” + +“Soapy” Shay, sitting before the fire in his cabin a few nights after +the executions, held forth at some length and with peculiar emphasis on +what he called an exploded theory. + +“As I said before, and as I've always said,--not being a drinking man +myself,--it's all bunk about booze being responsible for all the crimes +that are committed. Now here were these two guys, Sancho and Dominic. +Look at what they did,--and they hadn't touched a drop for months. I'm +not saying that licker is a soothin' syrup for a man's morals, but what +I am saying is that if a feller has got it in him to be ornery, he'll be +ornery, drunk or sober. I was tellin' Parson Mackenzie only this morning +that him and me both have good reason for not touchin' the stuff,--for +different reasons, of course,--but I didn't see why other people +oughtn't to have it if they want it. + +“With me, in my former profession, it would have been criminal to touch +the stuff. The worst crime a burglar can commit is to get drunk. No +decent, bang-up burglar ever does it. I don't suppose there is a more +self-respectin' sort of man in the world than a high-grade burglar. And +it's the same with a preacher. He can't any more preach a good sermon +when he is lit up than a burglar can crack a safe or jimmy a window if +he tanks up beforehand. The parson seemed surprised when I put it right +up to him like that. He said he'd never thought of it in that light +before. Of course, says he, a minister of the gospel ain't even supposed +to know what licker tastes like, and I says to him that's where we have +the advantage of him. We know what it tastes like, and we like it, +and we leave it alone because it cramps our style. He leaves it alone +because it's the style for preachers to leave it alone, and because +they'd go to hell if they drank like ordinary men. The only place a +burglar goes to if he boozes is jail. + +“Well, as I was sayin', this here Sancho wasn't soused when he committed +that crime, and it all goes to prove that these temperance cranks are +off their base. Most of the crime that's committed in this world is +committed because the feller wants to commit it. When I was up in Sing +Sing once,--sort of by accident, you might say,--there was a lot of talk +about prison reform, and pattin' the crooks on the back, and tellin' +them they could be just as good as anybody else if they had a chance. +The only chance them guys want, and keep lookin' for night and day, is +a chance to lift something when nobody's lookin'. That's all they're +thinkin' about while they're in the pen, and God knows they're as sober +as judges all the time they're there. Crime is crime and you can't +always lay it to booze. It's human nature with some people. I'm not +sayin' the world wouldn't be better off if there wasn't any licker to +drink. It stands to reason that there wouldn't be half so much bunglin' +if people kept sober, 'specially when it comes to crime. Now, if this +guy Sancho had had a couple of pints in him, everybody would be going +around preachin' about the horrible effects of booze, and--What say?” + +“I said you make me tired,” said Buck Chizler, repeating his remark. “I +never did anything wrong in my life except when I was half-soused.” + +“Sure,” agreed Soapy. “But you'd have done it right if you'd been sober, +my boy. That's the principal trouble with booze. It never gives a feeler +a chance to do anything right.” Whereupon, with a slow wink for the +other members of the group, he arose and passed out into the night. + +“I can't make that feller out,” grumbled Buck, uncomfortably. + +Easter Sunday was bright and clear, following a fortnight of cold, +penetrating winds and rain. The sun smiled, but it was a cold smile that +mocked rather than cheered. The sky was the colour of thin, transparent +ice; the vast white dome was unspotted by a single cloud; the rose tints +of early morn, frightened away at birth by the chill, unfeeling glare, +took with them every promise of tenderness that dawned with the new day. +But, though the sky was hard, the air was soft; the tang of the salt-sea +spice lay over everything. + +Percival had no active part in the exercises arranged by Ruth. The song +service was held in the open. A platform had been erected in front +of the “tabernacle” (the meeting-house on occasion) for the choir and +musicians. There were no seats for the congregation. Every one stood, +bareheaded, in a wide semi-circle facing the platform. The “boss” took +his place inconspicuously among those who formed the outer fringe of the +assemblage. His gaze seldom left the face of the girl he loved. Once her +eyes met his. She was on the platform discussing arrangements with the +two clergymen when her roving, unsettled gaze chanced to fall upon him. +For many seconds she stared at him fixedly,--so fixedly, in fact, that +Father Francisco, after a moment, shot a look in the same direction. +Even from his far-off post, Percival saw the colour mount to her cheeks +as she hastily turned away to resume the conversation that had been so +incontinently broken off. She was bare-headed. He had been watching the +sun at play among the coils of her soft, dark hair,--a glint here as of +bronze, a gleam there as of gold, ever changing under the caresses of +that flaming lover a hundred million miles away. + +The affable Mr. Nicklestick was standing beside Percival, carrying on a +more or less one-sided conversation. + +“You see, it's this way,” he was saying, contriving to reduce his +far-reaching voice to a moderate undertone; “I'm not in the habit of +attending Easter services. I'm not opposed to them, believe me, A. +A.,--not in the slightest. Now at home in New York, I make it a habit to +walk from the Metropolitan Museum down to the Waldorf-Astoria regularly +every Easter. Between eleven and twelve-thirty. You get them going into +certain churches and you get them coming out of others, don't you see? +Oh, vat would I give to be on Fif' Avenue at this minute, A. A.! +A hundred thousand dollars,--gladly, villingly,--yes, two hundred +thousand! I vonder vat things are like on Fif Avenue now,--at this +minute, I mean. I vonder what the vimmin are wearing this season. My +God, don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue, A. A.?” + +“What?” + +“I say don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue now?” + +“No, I don't,” gruffly. + +“You--you don't?” gasped Nicklestick. “My God, where do you wish you +were?” + +“Over in France,--or better still, in Germany,--that's where I'd like to +be. Keep still! Can't you see Careni-Amori is singing?” + +Nicklestick was silent for two minutes. Then he volunteered: “Do you +know what that song vould cost if she vas to give it in the Metropolitan +Opera House, A. A.? A thousand dollars, von thousand simoleons. And +we get it for nothing. It ain't possible to realize that you can get +something for nothing in these days, is it? I vas saying to Morrie Shine +only this morning that--” + +“Sh!” hissed an exasperated Brazilian in front of them. + +“I guess we better not talk any more, A. A.,” said Nicklestick, +deprecatingly. Presently he leaned close to Percival's ear and +whispered: “Miss Clinton is looking very fine today, isn't she?” + Receiving no reply, he waited a moment and then went on: “Landover is +a very lucky dog, eh?” Failing again, he was silent for some time. His +next effort was along a totally different line. “I've been feeling some +of the people out in regard to the election next week. I think it's +a great idea. You got a cinch, A. A. Nobody vants anybody but you for +governor. What seems to be--” + +“Sh!” + +“Oh, you go to the devil!” addressed the exasperated Mr. Nicklestick +to the Brazilian. “Ain't we got freedom of speech here on this island? +Veil, then! What seems to be troubling most every one, A. A., is who is +the best man for clerk. Nobody vants to be treasurer, for why? Because +there ain't anything to be treasurer about. Say, where are you going?” + +“Nowhere,” replied Percival, as he strode away. + +Over against the line of trees on the opposite side of the wheat field +still loomed the gibbet from which Sancho Mendez and Dominic had stepped +blindfolded into another and darker world. While Pastor Mackenzie, +leading up to the glorious resurrection, was repeating the story of the +Crucifixion, Ruth Clinton, sitting behind him on the platform, stared +wide-eyed at this gaunt object, and she saw not Christ on the Cross but +the spectre of Sancho Mendez falling off into darkness. Percival's gaze +followed hers, and his heart smote him,--for it was he who had demanded +that the gruesome reminder be left standing as a warning to carrion. And +he had laughed when Peter Snipe christened it “the scarecrow!” + +“Leave it standing, A. A.,” Peter had said, “and you can bet your boots +no jailbird will ever roost on it if he thinks twice. And it's just that +sort of thing that makes a man think twice.” + +But the look of dread in the eyes of this girl who could do no wrong, +and yet was to be everlastingly tortured by the sight of the thing that +stood as a silent accuser of all who looked, was more than Percival +could stand. Easter Sunday,--and that gibbet pointing its long arm +toward the little flock in the shadow of sanctuary,--mocking the good as +it beckoned to the bad,--Easter Sunday and that! + +He stole quietly away, circling the edge of the crowd, his head bent, +his teeth set. Just as he was about to pass from view around the corner +of the “tabernacle,” he cast a quick glance at the girl on the platform. +Their eyes met again. She turned her head quickly, but he was certain +that she had followed his movements from the beginning. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Toward the close of the exercises, the congregation was startled by +the sound of an ax smiting wood. The blows were rapid and vigorous. +The surprised people looked at each other first in wonder and then in +consternation. Who was guilty of this unseemly sacrilege? + +Finally those on the edge of the multitude discovered the wielder of the +ax. Some one, not easily recognizable, was chopping away the supports of +the scaffold. The crowd grew restless; angry mutterings were to be heard +on all sides. Every eye was turned from the platform to glare at the +lone chopper across the fallow field. + +Madame Careni-Amori, who was about to begin her second song, looked +helplessly at Ruth Clinton. + +Ruth had recognized the man at once. At first she was annoyed, then +there surged over her a great, uplifting thrill of exaltation. She +stepped quickly to the front and, raising her clear young voice, +reclaimed the wandering attention of the throng. + +“Please be quiet. Madame Careni-Amori is to sing for us once more. Mr. +Percival is knocking down that horrible thing over there. It is right +that he should. We do not need it there as a warning. Mr. Percival has +had a change of heart. He has been moved,--tremendously moved,--by +what he has seen in your faces today. That is why he is over there now +hacking down that dreadful thing. It is the skeleton at our feast. We +were conscious of its presence all the time. He is over there all by +himself cutting it down so that our hearts may be lighter, so that this +glad hour may end without its curse. Please remain where you are. He +requires no assistance. He prefers to do it all alone. And now, if you +will all give attention, Madame Careni-Amori will sing for us.” + +Careni-Amori lifted up her glorious voice in song. The rhythmic beat +of the ax went on unceasingly; the powerful arms and shoulders of the +destroyer were behind every frenzied blow. As the last notes of the song +died away, there came the sound of splintering wood, then a dull crash, +and the gibbet lay flat upon the ground. Some one uttered an involuntary +shout. As Percival turned from his completed work and wiped the sweat +from his brow with his bare forearm, he found the gaze of the entire +company fastened upon him. Then there came to his ears the clapping of +hands, then the shrill clamour of voices raised in approbation. Swinging +the ax on high, he buried its blade deep in the fallen timber and left +it imbedded there. Snatching up his coat from a nearby stump, he waved +his hand to the crowd and then, whirling, was quickly lost among the +trees that lined the shore. + +Landover walked beside the thoughtful Ruth as she crossed the Green on +her way home. He studied her lovely profile out of the corner of his +eye. As they drew away from the dispersing throng, he spoke to her. + +“If money were of any value here in this Godforsaken spot, I would offer +considerably more than a penny for your thoughts, Ruth.” + +She started slightly. “You couldn't buy them, Mr. Landover. They are not +for sale at any price.” + +“I suppose there is no harm in venturing a guess, however. You will give +me one guess, won't you?” + +“All the guesses you like,--free of charge,” she rejoined airily. + +“You are trying to decide whether or not it was all done for effect.” + +She smiled mysteriously, looking straight ahead. Her eyes were very +bright. + +“You are wrong. I was thinking about hats, Mr. Landover. Don't you know +that every woman's thoughts run to hats on Easter?” + +“I confess I had a better opinion of him,” he said, disregarding her +flippancy. “I don't like him, but I've never suspected him of being a +stupid ass before.” + +“Of whom are you speaking?” she inquired, suddenly looking him full in +the eye. + +“Our mutual friend, the enemy,” he replied. + +“Mr. Percival?” + +“Certainly.” + +“But I thought he was beneath our notice.” + +“We can't very well help noticing him when he goes to such extreme +lengths to attract attention.” + +“You think he did it to attract attention?” + +“Not so much that, perhaps, as to get back into the lime-light. You +see, he was rather out of it for as much as half an hour, and he simply +couldn't stand it. So he went off and staged a little sideshow of his +own.” + +She walked on in silence for a few moments, torn by doubts and +misgivings. Landover's sarcastic analysis was like a douche of cold +water. Perhaps he was right. It had been a spectacular, not to say +diverting, exhibition. Her eyes darkened. An expression of pain lurked +in them. + +“I can't believe it of him, Mr. Landover,” she said at last, in a +slightly muffled voice. + +“I thought it was understood you were to call me Abel, my dear.” + +“If he did it deliberately,--and with that motive,--it was unspeakable,” + she went on, a faint furrow appearing between her eyes. + +“Of course, I may be wrong,” said he magnanimously. “It may have been +the result of an honest, uncontrollable impulse. But I doubt it.” + +“Men do queer, strange things when under the influence of a strong +emotion,” she said, a hopeful note in her voice. + +“True. They are also capable of doing very base things. You don't for an +instant suspect Percival of being a religious fanatic, do you?” + +“Please don't sneer. And what, pray, has religion to do with it?” + +“I dare say Morris Shine is again lamenting the absence of a motion +picture camera. He is always complaining about the chances he has missed +to--” + +“Stop!” + +“Why, Ruth dear, I--” + +“We have no right to judge him, Mr. Landover.” + +“Are you defending him?” + +“I don't believe he had the faintest notion that he was +being--theatrical, as you call it. I am sure he did it because he was +moved by an overpowering desire to make all of us happy. He couldn't +bear the thought of that evil thing out there, pointing at us while we +worshipped and tried to sing with gladness in our hearts. No! He did +it for you, and for me, and for all the rest of us,--and he made every +heart lighter when that thing toppled over and fell. Did you not see +the change that came over every one when they realized that it was +destroyed? There were smiles on every face, and every voice was +cheerful. The look of uneasy dread was gone--Oh, you must have seen.” + +“I can only say that it ought to have been done before, Ruth,--not +during the exercises.” + +“It was his way of publicly admitting he was wrong in insisting that it +should remain.” + +“He had his way with that weak-kneed committee, as usual. The tactics +of that Copperhead Camp he talks so much about are hardly applicable to +conditions here. We are not law-defying ruffians, you know,--and these +are women of quite another order.” + +“No one,--not even you, Mr. Landover,--can say that he has been +anything but kind and considerate and sympathetic,” she flashed. “He is +firm,--but isn't that what we want? And the people worship him,--they +will do anything for him. Even Manuel Crust respects him,--and obeys +him. And you, down in your heart, respect him. He is your kind of a man, +Mr. Landover. He does things. He is like Theodore Roosevelt. He does +things.” + +Landover smiled grimly. “Perhaps that is why I dislike him.” + +“Because he is like Roosevelt?” + +“My dear, let's not start an argument about Roosevelt.” + +“Just the same, I've heard you say over and over again that you wish +Roosevelt were President now,” she persisted. “Why do you say that if +you are so down on him?” + +Landover shrugged his shoulders expressively. + +“I can wish that, my dear, and still not be an admirer of Mr. +Roosevelt,” he replied. “But to return to Percival, isn't it quite plain +to you that he was pouting like a school-boy because he had not been +asked to take part in today's exercises?” + +“He was asked to take part in them. I asked him myself.” + +He glanced at her sharply. “You never told me you had asked him, Ruth.” + +“The night the crime was committed,” she said briefly. “He was very nice +about it. He promised to sing in the choir and--and to help me with +the decorations. After our unpleasant experience the next day, he had +the--shall we say tact or kindness?--to reconsider his promise.” + +“Openly advertising the fact that he preferred to have no part in any +entertainment you were arranging,” was Landover's comment. “I don't +believe it was because of any particular delicacy of feeling on his +part, my dear. In any case, the fact remains that he let you go ahead +with the affair, and then, bang! right in the middle of it he stages his +cheap, melodramatic, moving-picture act. Bosh!” + +She turned on him with blazing eyes. + +“You will not see anything good in him, will you? You can't be fair, can +you? Well, I can be,--and I am. He has been fair with both of us,--and +I am ashamed of the way I have treated him. We deserved his rebuke that +morning, and he did not hesitate to turn us back,--although he realized +what it would mean. He loves me, Abel Landover,--he loves me a thousand +times more than you do, in spite of all your protestations. He--” + +“Why, Ruth,--I--I--” + +“Yes,--I know,--I know you are shocked. And I don't care,--do you +understand? I don't care that! You want your answer, Mr. Landover. Well, +you shall have it now. I cannot marry you. This is final.” + +The blood left his face. “You don't know what you are saying, Ruth,” he +exclaimed. “You are angry. When you have had time to--” + +“I've had all the time I need,” she interrupted shortly. “I don't want +to be disagreeable,--but it's no use, Mr. Landover. I do not love you. +I am sorry if I have misled you into hoping. There is nothing more to be +said.” + +“You have misled me,” he cried out bitterly. + +“I am to blame, I suppose, for not giving you your answer before this. I +have temporized. It is a woman's trick,--and a horrid one, I'll admit. I +have never even thought of marrying you.” + +“Are you in love with Percival?” he demanded. + +“Yes,--I think I am,” she replied, looking him straight in the eye. She +spoke with a sort of gasp, as if releasing a confession that surprised +even herself. + +“My God, Ruth,--I can't believe it,” he groaned. + +“I have denied it to myself--oh, a thousand times,--I've fought against +it. I've tried to hate him. I've done everything in my power to make him +believe that I despise him. But it's no use,--it's no use. I--I can't +think of anything else. I can't think of any one else. Oh, I know I am +quite mad to say this, but I sometimes find myself praying that we may +never be rescued. It might mean--well, you can see what it might mean. +Thank God, you have driven me to this confession. It is the first time I +have been really honest with myself. I have lied to myself over and over +again about my feeling toward him. I have lain awake for hours at night +lying to myself--telling myself that I hate him and always will hate +him. Now, it's out,--the truth is out. I have never hated him,--I have +cared for him from the very beginning.” + +She spoke rapidly, the words rushing forth like a flood suddenly +released after breaking through the dam, sweeping everything before +it,--resistless, devastating, cruelly rapturous. She thought nothing of +the hurt she was inflicting upon the man beside her; he was an atom in +the path of the torrent, a thing that went down and was left behind as +the flood swept over and by him. As suddenly as it began the torrent was +checked. A hot flush seared her neck, her cheeks, her brow. + +“What a fool you must think me!” she cried in dire chagrin. “What a +stupid fool!” + +He had not taken his eyes from her transfigured face. He had listened +with his jaw set, his lips tightly pressed, his brow dark with anger. + +“I don't think that,” he said shortly. “You have merely lost your head, +as any woman might, over a picturesque, good-looking soldier of fortune. +Perhaps I should not be surprised, nor even shocked by what you've just +told me. He is the sort that women do fall in love with,--and I suppose +they are not to be blamed for it. No, I do not think you are a fool. +When one reflects that such experienced heads as those possessed by +the irreproachable Obosky, the immaculate Amori,--to say nothing of the +estimable lady we are pleased to call the 'Empress of Brazil,'--when +such heads as theirs are turned by a man it is high time to admit that +he has something more than personal magnetism. I am wondering how far +the contagion has really spread. There is a difference between +contagion and infection, you know. Infection is the result of +personal contact,--contagion is something in the air. This epidemic +of infatuation very plainly is in two forms. It appears to be both +infectious and contagious. I rather fancy the amiable Obosky has +selected the former type of the prevailing malady. Percivalitis, I +believe, is the name it goes by.” + +There was no mistaking the significance of his words. The implication +was clear, even though veiled in the heaviest sarcasm. He had the +satisfaction of seeing the colour ebb from her cheek. Her face being +averted, he missed the swift flicker of pain that rushed to her eyes +and, departing, took away with it the soft light that had glowed in them +the instant before. He had touched a concealed canker,--the sensitive +spot that had been the real cause of her sleepless, troubled +nights,--the thing she had refused in her pride to accept as the real +source of discomfort. + +Down in her soul lay the poison of jealousy, a cruel and malignant +influence that until now had been subdued by a mind stubbornly unwilling +to recognize its existence. + +In the eagerness to supply herself with additional reasons for hating +Percival, she had given her imagination a rather free rein in regard to +his relations with Olga Obosky. While she was without actual proof, she +nevertheless tortured herself with suspicions that came almost to +the same thing; in any case, they had the desired effect in that they +created a very positive sense of irritation, and nothing seemed to +please her more in the dead hour of night than the feeling that she had +a right to be disgusted with him. + +And now, Landover, in his sly arraignment, prodded a very live, raw +spot, and she knew that it was bleak unhappiness and not rancour that +had kept her awake. + +“Is it necessary to beat about the bush, Mr. Land-over? If you have +anything definite to tell me about Mr. Percival and Madame Obosky, +I grant you permission to say all you have to say in the plainest +language. Call a spade a spade. I am quite old enough to hear things +called by their right names.” + +“Since you have been so quick to get my meaning, I don't consider it +necessary to go into details. I daresay you have ears and eyes of your +own. You can see and hear as well as I,--unless you are resolved to be +both blind and deaf.” + +“Did you not hear me say that I know he loves me?” + +“Yes,--I heard you quite distinctly.” + +“As a rule, do men love two women at the same time?” she inquired, +patiently. + +“I have never said that he loves Obosky. It is barely possible, however, +that he may not choose to resist her,--if that conveys anything to your +intelligence.” + +“It does and it does not,” she replied steadily. “You see, I believe in +him. I trust him.” + +“And I suppose you trust Olga Obosky,” he said, with a sneer. + +“I understand Olga Obosky far better than you do, Mr. Landover.” + +“I doubt it,” said he drily. + +“She is my friend.” + +“Ah! That measurably simplifies the situation. She will no doubt prove +her friendship by delivering Mr. Percival to you, slightly damaged but +guaranteed to--” + +“Please be good enough to remember, Mr. Land-over, that you are not +speaking to Manuel Crust,” she exclaimed haughtily, and, with flaming +cheeks, swept past him. + +He hesitated a moment, and then started to follow her. She stopped short +and, facing him, cried out: “Don't follow me! I do not want to hear +another word. Stop! I can see by your eyes that you are ashamed,--you +want to apologize. I do not want to hear it. I am hurt,--terribly hurt. +Nothing you can say will help matters now, Mr. Landover.” + +“Just a second, Ruth,” he cried, now thoroughly dismayed. “Give me a +chance to explain. It was my mad, unreasoning love that--” + +But, with an exclamation of sheer disgust, she put her fingers to her +ears and sped rapidly down the walk. He stood still, watching her until +she entered the cabin door and closed it behind her. Then he completed +the broken sentence, but not in the voice of humility nor with the words +that he had intended to utter. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +Shay, coming up the walk, distinctly heard what he said. + +“What's the matter, Bill?” he inquired, pausing. “Did she throw the +hooks into you?” + +Landover glared at him balefully. “You go to hell, damn you,” he +snarled, and walked away. + +“Soapy” rubbed his chin dubiously as he watched the retreating figure. +Pursing his thin lips, he turned his attention to an unoffending stump +six or eight feet away and scowled at it vindictively. He was turning +something over in his mind, and he was manifestly in a state of +indecision. Ruminating, he spoke aloud, perhaps for the benefit of a +Portuguese farm-hand who happened to be approaching from the opposite +direction, but who still had some rods to cover before he was within +hearing distance. + +“Gee, he's getting to be as decent and democratic as any of us. Shows +what association will do for a man. Two months ago he would have been +too high and mighty to tell me to go to hell. If he keeps on at this +rate, he'll be worth payin' attention to in a couple of months more. +Won't he, Bill?” This to the farmhand, who obligingly halted. + +Mr. Shay made constant and impartial use of the name Bill. Except in a +very few instances, he applied it to all males over the age of two, +and he did it so genially that resentment was rare. Americans, Britons, +Irishmen, Portuguese, Spaniards, Indians, Swedes,--all races, in fact, +except the Hebrew,--came under the sweeping appellation. His Hebrew +acquaintances were addressed by the name of Ike. + +It so happened that this particular “Bill” was lamentably slow in +picking up the English language. It was even said that he prided himself +on being halfwitted. However, being an exceedingly dull creature, he was +quite naturally a polite one. He was a good listener. You could speak +English to him by the hour and never be annoyed by verbal interruptions. +At regular intervals he would insert a shrug of the shoulders, or nod +his head, or lift an eye-brow, or spread out his hands, or purse his +lips,--and he never smiled unless you did. + +Perceiving that some sort of an answer was expected, “Bill” + wisely shrugged his shoulders. “Soapy” interpreted the shrug as +affirmative,--having a distinct advantage over “Bill,” who hadn't the +faintest idea which it was,--and proceeded to go a little deeper into +the matter. + +“Now, as I was saying, this Landover guy is up against something, Bill. +She handed him something he didn't like. Right on the nose, too, if I'm +any judge. What do you suppose it was, Bill?” + +“Bill” nodded his head very earnestly. + +“That's what I think,” said “Soapy,” fixing his hearer with a moody, +speculative frown. “Now, I know something about this Landover guy that +she don't know. I suppose A. A. will give me an awful panning if I up +and tell her what I saw that day. He seems to think it's a secret.” + +There was a slight pause, suggesting to “Bill” that he ought to frown as +if also in doubt. + +“At the same time, I think she ought to be told, don't you, Bill?” + +This called for something definite. So Bill scratched his left ear. + +“In the first place, she's too nice a girl to be hitched up with a +Priscilla like him. Now, I don't know what happened here a couple of +minutes ago, but it looks to me as if she needs a little moral support. +It strikes me that this would be a good time to tell her. What do you +think about it, Bill?” + +Always on the lookout for rising inflections, “Bill” was ever in a +position to give prompt replies. He could dispose of the most profound +questions almost before they were out of the speaker's mouth. His answer +to “Soapy's” query was a broad grin,--for he had detected a sly twinkle +in the speaker's eye. He also shrugged his shoulders and spread out his +hands,--and, to clinch the matter, he winked. + +“Now, I don't want to take this important step without being backed-up +by some clever, intelligent feller like you, Bill,” went on “Soapy.” + “It's all for her good,--and A. A.'s, too, although he won't see it in +that light. If you say you think she ought to be told, that's enough for +me. If you say she oughtn't,--why, nothing doing. It's up to you, Bill.” + +“Bill” was plainly at sea. You can't decide a question that lacks an +interrogation point. So all that “Bill” could do was to stare blankly +at “Soapy” and wait for something tangible to turn up. Mr. Shay suddenly +appreciated the poor fellow's dilemma and supplied the necessary relief. + +“What say, Bill?” + +Whereupon “Bill” started to shake his head, but, catching the scowl of +disapproval on “Soapy's” brow, hastily changed his reply to a vigorous +nod. + +“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Shay. “That completely clears my conscience. So +long, Bill.” + +And half a minute later he presented himself at Ruth Clinton's cabin. + +“Goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Spofford, as she opened the door. She also +opened her eyes very wide, and sent a startled, apprehensive glance over +her shoulder into the warm, fire-lit interior. “What do you want?” she +demanded querulously of the unexpected visitor. + +Mr. Shay took off his hat. “I'd like a few words with Miss Clinton,” he +said. “I saw her come in, so she's not out. It's important, ma'am. She +will hear something to her advantage, as they say in the personals.” + +“Will you please return at three o'clock, Mr. Shay? My niece is resting +after the arduous labours of the--” + +“I dassent wait,” said “Soapy,” with a furtive glance over his shoulder. +“If he sees me, I'll probably have to change my mind.” + +“Who is it, Auntie?” called out a clear voice from within. + +“'Soapy' Shay,” replied the visitor himself. + +“Mr. Landover will be here presently, Mr. Shay,--” began the obstacle in +the doorway. + +“I guess not,” broke in “Soapy,” forgetting himself so far as to wink. +“I expect you haven't heard the news, ma'am. He's had his nose put out +of joint.” + +“Good heavens! His nose out of--” + +“Come in, Soapy,” cried Ruth. + +“Ruth, my dear,--do you know who--do you know what--” + +“Sure she knows,” again interrupted “Soapy,” unembarrassed. “I'm not +after anybody's jewels, Mrs. Spofford,--and besides which I am the +principal candidate for Sheriff of this bailiwick. You don't suppose +a man who's running for the office of sheriff on Mr. A. A. Percival's +ticket is going to lift anything before election, do you? Besides which +I've made up my mind to be straight as long as I'm on this island, and +if I'm elected,--which I will be,--I'm going to see that nobody else +does anything crooked. Mr. A.A. Percival is a wise guy,--a mighty wise +guy. Says he to me, 'Soapy, you are one of the most expert--'” + +“Come inside, Soapy,” called out Ruth. + +Mr. Shay entered. “You better shut the door, Mrs. Spofford,” he said +coolly. “What I got to say is private. As I was saying, A. A. says to +me, 'Soapy, you are one of the craftiest and slipperiest crooks on this +side of the Atlantic Ocean. What you don't know about crime would fill +a book about as thick as a postage stamp. There's nobody on this island +more fittin' to be an officer of the law. You know everything that an +officer of the law ought to know, and besides which you know everything +that a thief has to know. So you're going to be elected Sheriff of +Trigger Island.' That's what A. A. says to me, and, as usual, he's dead +right. Why, ma'am, there ain't a thief in the universe that can fool me. +I don't have to have any evidence,--not a grain of it. All I got to do +is to just ask 'em why they done it. But what I dropped in to see you +about, Miss Ruth, is--Say, you ain't by any chance expecting A. A. to +drop in, are you? I wouldn't have him ketch me here for--” + +“I am not expecting Mr. Percival, Soapy,” she said, her gaze fixed +expectantly on the man's face. + +“Well, then,” said he, “I got a little story to tell you. It's the +gospel truth. Just try to forget that I used to be a crook and that +in ordinary times I am one of the most gosh-awful liars on earth. But +there's absolutely no pleasure in lying nowadays, and as for working at +my regular trade, Mrs. Spofford, you needn't be the least bit nervous. +It ain't necessary for you to set on that trunk. Take this chair, +please. Now, you remember some time back that A. A. and your friend +Landover had a mix-up in the last named gentleman's stateroom, and you +also must remember that Mr. Landover told you about it and that Mr. +Percival never told you anything about it. Well, I was a witness to +that fracas. I just happened to be walking along the deck when something +caught my eye and I went up close to see what it was. You'd never guess +what it was. After looking at it very carefully I discovered it was a +port-hole.” + +Forsaking his whimsical manner, he related tersely in as few words as +possible the story of the encounter. + +“Now, it's my guess that Mr. Abel Landover didn't speak the whole truth +and nothing but the truth when he furnished you with his version of the +affair. Am I right, or am I wrong?” he asked, in conclusion. + +“I prefer to believe Mr. Landover's story,” said Mrs. Spofford stiffly. +“Will you be good enough to go now, Mr. Shay?” + +“Sure,” said “Soapy,” rising. “I'm not asking anybody to take my word +against his. I'm just telling you, that's all. Good afternoon, ladies.” + +“It was not Mr. Percival who fired the shot? You are sure of that, +Soapy?” Ruth was standing now. Her eyes were very dark and tempestuous. + +“Sure as my right name ain't Soapy Shay,” returned the witness, holding +up his right hand. + +“Ruth, it isn't possible that you place any credence in--” + +“Thank you for coming, Soapy,” interrupted Ruth. “It was very good of +you.” + +“Soapy” lingered at the door, fumbling his dilapidated hat. Mrs. +Spofford was staring speechlessly at her niece. + +“I'd a little sooner you wouldn't say anything to A. A. about me +peaching on him,” said “Soapy,” somewhat nervously. + +“I shall not 'peach' on you, Soapy,” said the girl, a joyous smile +suddenly illuminating her face. + +“Soapy” went out. As he closed the door, he said to himself: “Next time +you tell me to go to hell, Abe Landover, I guess you'd better furnish a +guide that knows the way.” + +As soon as the door was closed, Mrs. Spofford turned upon her radiant +niece. + +“You are not such a fool as to believe that rascal's story, Ruth?” + +“I believe every word of it!” cried the girl. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Sailors, sniffing the gale that night, shook their heads and said +there was snow on the tail of it. Morning found the ground mottled with +splashes of white and a fine, frost-like sleet blowing fitfully across +the plain. The ridge of trees over against the shore became vague and +shapeless beneath the filmy veil, while the sea out beyond the breakers +was clothed in a grey shroud, bleak and impenetrable. + +Knapendyke was positive and reassuring in his contention that no great +amount of snow ever fell upon the island. While much of the vegetation +was of a character indigenous to the temperate zone, there was, he +pointed out, another type peculiar to tropical climates,--and although +the latter was of a singularly hardy nature, it was not calculated to +survive the rigours of a harsh, protracted winter. + +“We'll have spells like this, off and on, just as they occasionally do +in Florida or Southern California, is the way I figure it out,” he said +to the group of uneasy men who contemplated the embryonic blizzard with +alarm and misgiving. “Moreover, I believe the wet, cold season is a +short one here. The birds are content to stick it out. The fact there is +no migration is proof enough for me that the winter is never severe. +As the weather prognosticators say, look out for squalls, unsettled +weather, frost tonight, rising temperature tomorrow, rain the next +day, doctors' bills the end of the month. Avoid crowded street-cars, +passenger elevators and places of amusement. Take plenty of out-door +exercise and don't eat too many strawberries.” + +Children, on their way to school in the town hall, shouted with glee +as they romped in the snow-laden gale. It had no terrors for them. They +were not concerned with the dour prospect that brought anxiety to the +hearts of their elders. + +“It's fine to be a kid,” said Percival, watching the antics of a crowd +of boys. “Why do we have to grow up?” + +“So that we can appreciate what it was to be a kid,” said Randolph +Fitts. + +Ruth Clinton was one of the teachers. There were, all told, about thirty +children in the school, their ages ranging from five to fourteen. Most +of them were youngsters from the steerage, bright-eyed little Latins who +had picked up with lively avidity no small store of English. They were +being taught in English. + +The council, spurred by the far-seeing Percival, recognized the perils +of a period of inactivity following the harvest and the flailing +days. The majority of the men and women would be comparatively idle. +Preparations for the building of a small ship occupied the time and +interest of a few engineers and ship-carpenters, but as some weeks were +bound to pass before the work could be begun in earnest, an interim of +impatience would have to be bridged. Work, and plenty of it, was the +only prescription for despair. + +Already symptoms of increasing moodiness marked the mien of the less +resourceful among the castaways. While it was not generally known, two +men had attempted suicide, and one of the Brazilian ladies,--a beautiful +young married woman,--was in a pitiful state of collapse. She had +a husband and two small children in Rio Janeiro. The separation was +driving her mad. There were others,--both men and women,--whose minds +were never free from the thought of loved ones far across the waters +and whose hearts ached with a great pain that could not be subdued by +philosophy, but they were strong and they were cheerful. In their souls +burnt an unquenchable fire, the fire of hope; they stirred it night and +day with the song of the unvanquished. + +Improvements in the hastily constructed cabins provided not only +occupation but interest for the able-bodied men and women. There was no +little rivalry in the matter of interior embellishments; those skilled +in the use of implements took great pride in hewing out and adding +more or less elaborate ornamentation to the facades of their +habitations,--such as casements, door-posts and capitals, awnings, +porches, and so forth. A shell road was in process of construction +from one end of the village to the other, while over in Dismal Forest +woodsmen were even now cutting down the towering Norfolk pines and +hewing out the staunch timbers for the ship that was to sail out one day +in quest of the world they had left behind them. But these enterprises +provided work for men only. The women, in the main, were without +occupation. With the approach of winter the men in active control of the +camp's affairs realized that something would have to be done to relieve +the strain,--at least, to lighten it until spring came to the rescue +with toil in the fields and gardens. + +A system of exchange was being worked out. As has been mentioned before +in this chronicle, the people of the steerage were the plutocrats. Their +hoardings represented real money, the savings of years. When it came to +an actual “show-down,”--to use Percival's expression,--these people +who were poor in the accepted sense, now were rich. They could “buy and +sell” the “plutocrats” of another day and another world. + +The theory that one good turn deserves another was an insufficient +foundation upon which to construct a substantial system of exchange. +It is all very well to talk about brotherly love, said Percival. The +trouble is that certain brothers are for ever imposing upon other +brothers, and the good turn does not always find its recompense. +Socialism, he argued, is a fine thing until you discover that you are +not alone in the world. Brotherly love began with Cain and Abel, and +socialism is best exemplified by a parlour aquarium. Nothing happens to +disturb the serene existence of the goldfish until somebody forgets to +feed them, and then they begin nibbling at each other. + +“You mend my fence, I'll mend yours,” is an ideal arrangement until you +find it is “our fence” and doesn't need mending. + +To Landover, Block and other financial experts was delegated the power +and authority to perfect a fair, impartial monetary system. First of +all, they arbitrarily declared the dollar, the peso and the shilling to +be without value. “Time” script was to be issued by the governing board, +and as this substitute would automatically become useless on the day the +castaways, were discovered and taken off the island, no citizen was to +be allowed to reduce or dissipate his hoard of real money. + +Landover's proposal that a central depository be established for the +purpose of holding and safe-guarding the possessions of each and every +person was primarily intended to prevent the surreptitious use of real +money. This project met with almost universal opposition. The “rich” + preferred to hang onto their money, thereby running true to form. While +professing the utmost confidence in the present integrity of the banker +and his friends they ingenuously wanted to know what chance they would +have of getting their money back when these masters of finance were +ready to leave the island! So they elected to hide their gold and silver +where it would be safe from unscrupulous financiers! And nothing could +shake them in this resolve. + +“Time” was the basic principle on which the value of the script was to +be determined, and as “time,” in this instance, meant hours and nothing +else, a citizen's income depended entirely on his readiness to work. Ten +hours represented a full day's work. The hand-press on board the Doraine +was used to print the “hours,” as the little slips made from the +stock of menu card-board were called. They were divided into five +denominations, viz.: One Hour, Three Hours, Five Hours, Seven Hours and +Ten Hours. Each of these checks bore the signature of Abel T. Landover +and a seal devised by Peter Snipe, who besides being an author was +something of a draughtsman,--indeed, his enemies said he was a far +better artist than he was an author, which annoyed him tremendously in +view of the fact that he had stopped drawing when he was fifteen because +eminent cartoonists and illustrators had told him he had no talent at +all. The printing and stamping was done on board the Doraine and the +script was shortly to be put into circulation. Landover was slated to +become treasurer of Trigger Island at the general election. + +As an illustration, this sort of dialogue was soon to become more or +less common: + +“What's the price of this hat, Madame Obosky?” + +“Twenty-seven hours, Mrs. Block.” + +Or: + +“Gimme an hour's worth of 'smoke,' Andy,” meaning, of course, the +substitute for tobacco. + +Or: + +“You blamed robber, what do you mean charging six hours for half-soling +them shoes? If you was any good, you could ha' done it in half the +time.” + +Every individual in camp over the age of thirteen was obliged to have an +occupation. To a certain extent, this occupation was selective, but in +the main it was to be determined by a board whose business it was to see +that the man-power was directed to the best advantage for all concerned. +A camp tax was ordered. At the end of the week, every citizen was +required to pay into the common treasury two “hours.” He could not +“work out” this tax. It had to be paid in “cash.” Out of the taxes so +received, the school, the church, the “hospital” and the “government” + were to be supported. + +The “governor” of Trigger Island and the humblest workingman were to +receive exactly the same pay: “hour” for hour. Thirty thousand “hours” + represented the total issue, or, approximately fifty units for each +individual over the age of thirteen. + +As no man's hours was worth more than another's, and as every +transaction was to be based on time, rather than on money, there was no +small likelihood that any one man or group of men could ever obtain a +commanding grip on the finances of the Island. + +And so it came to pass that all manner of enterprises sprang into +existence. Competition was not allowed. There could be but one millinery +shop, one dress-making establishment, one shoe and sandal factory, and +so on. Everything was conducted on a strictly cash basis; there were no +“charge accounts.” + +Olga Obosky, as the proprietress of the millinery shop, earned no more +than any one of her half-dozen assistants,--and they were all paid by +the “government.” The same could be said of Madame Careni-Amori, who +conducted a school of music, and the great Joseppi who graciously,--even +gladly,--went into the tailoring business. Andrew Mott, one time First +Officer on the Doraine, opened a “smoke” store and dispensed cured +weed that Flattner authorized him to call “tobacco.” The austere Mrs. +Spofford decided to open a dress-making shop! + +It was all very simple, this man-to-man system of traffic, but no one +took it lightly or in the spirit of jest. They were serious, they were +sober-minded. Interest, incentive, grim determination centred in the +seemingly childish arrangement. Greed was lacking, for there was no +chance to hoard; confidence was paramount, for there was no chance to +lose. + +The “hours” travelled in a circle, from the “government” to people, from +people to “government”; when all was said and done, it was the product +of soil and sea that formed the backbone of the system. + +With the adoption of the plan, it was to become a punishable +offence,--indeed, it was to be classified as treason,--for any resident +of Trigger Island to “forage” for necessities. He could do what he +pleased in respect to the non-essentials, but when it came to foodstuffs +of any kind or description, he was guilty of a felony if he failed to +turn all that he produced or secured into the general stores. + +“Strikes me,” said Randolph Fitts in council meet-ing, “that we are +arriving at the most exquisite state of socialism. This comes pretty +close to being the essence of that historic American dream, 'of the +people, by the people, for the people.' Up to date, that has been the +rarest socialistic doctrine ever promulgated, but we are going it a long +sight better. 'From the people, by the people, to the people.' What do +you call that but socialism?” + +“Are you speaking to me?” demanded Percival. + +“In a general way, yes.” + +“Well, it's not my idea of socialism. So far as I've been able to +discover, socialism is a game in which you are supposed to take +something out of your pocket and put it into the other fellow's whether +he wants it or not. This scheme of ours is quite another thing. We're +not planning to split even on what we've got in our pockets so much as +we're planning to divide what we've got in our hands, and there's a lot +of difference between a hand and a pocket, old top. You can see what's +in one and you can't see what's in the other. And, by the way, Fitts, +if we let the socialists in this camp suspect that we're trying to +introduce socialism here, there'll be a revolution before you can say +Jack Robinson. They won't stand for it. They'd let out the blamedest +roar on record if they thought we were trying to deprive them of the +right to feel sorry for themselves.” + +Ruth hurried over to the town-hall bright and early on this snowy, gusty +morning. The forenoon session of the school began punctually at 8:30 +o'clock. She was there half an hour ahead of time to see that there +was a roaring fire in the huge fire-place, and that the benches for +the scholars were drawn up close to it. There were two teachers besides +herself,--and both of them were experienced “school marms.” She taught +the “infant class,” comprising about a dozen tots. The three teachers +took turns about in building the fires, arranging the benches and +cleaning the crude blackboard. + +There had been church-services the night before, and the benches +were all in use, arranged so that they faced the combination +pulpit-rostrum-stage at the far end of the room. Tonight there was to be +a general committee meeting to discuss the prospective financial scheme +and the general election that was to take place the following week. + +The structure was not blessed with a paucity of names. If there was +to be a council-meeting or a camp assembly, it was called the +“Meeting-house.” On Sundays it became the “tabernacle.” Week-days it +was known as the “schoolhouse,” and at odd times it was spoken of as the +“theatre,” the “concert-hall,” and the “Trigger Island court-house.” + In one corner stood the grand piano from the Doraine, regularly and +laboriously tuned by the great Joseppi. Madame Careni-Amori gave vocal +and instrumental lessons here every afternoon in the week, from three +to six. Among the older children there were a number who had voices that +seemed worth developing, and the famous soprano put her heart and soul +into the bewildering task of stuffing the rudiments of music down their +throats. + +Ruth stopped just inside the door and looked about her in astonishment. +The benches had been drawn up in an orderly semi-circle about the +fire-place. Beyond them she observed the figure of a man kneeling before +the fire, using a bellows with great effect. The big logs were snapping, +and cracking, and spitting before the furious blasts. + +She closed the door and started across the room in his direction. +Suddenly she recognized the broad back and the familiar but very +unseasonable panama hat. Panic seized her. She turned quickly, bent on +making her escape. Her heart was beating like a triphammer,--she felt +strangely weak in the knees. As abruptly, she checked the impulse to +flee. Why should she run away, now that the moment she had wished for so +ardently the night before was at hand? Chance had answered her call with +amazing swiftness. She was alone with him,--she could go to him and lay +her weapons at his feet and say,--as she had said a hundred times in the +night,--“I can fight no more. I am beaten.” + +But now that the time had come for bravery, she found herself sorely +afraid. A chill swept through her,--a weakening chill that took away +her strength and left her trembling from head to foot. The crisis was +at hand,--the great, surpassing crisis. She found herself hazily, +tremulously wondering what the next minute in her life would be like? +What would be said in it, what would happen to her? Would she be in his +arms, would his lips be upon hers,--all in the minute to come? Was the +whole of her life to be altered in the brief space of a minute's time? + +A warm glow suddenly drove off the chill. It came with the realization +that he was building the fire for her,--that his thoughts were +of her,--that he had stolen into the building to make it warm and +comfortable long before she was due to arrive,--and that he would steal +away again as soon as the “chores” were done. + +He arose to his feet and stood over the fire for a moment or two, +watching its lively progress. Apparently satisfied with his efforts, he +turned and started toward the door. She was standing in his path, a shy, +wavering smile on her lips. + +He halted, and after an instant's hesitation, stammered: + +“I--I never dreamed you'd be around so early. I thought I'd run in as I +was passing and build a fire for--for the kiddies. Get the place warmed +up a bit before--” + +“Will you let me say something, Mr. Percival?” she broke in, hurrying +the words. + +He fumbled for his hat. “I am sorry if you are annoyed, Miss Clinton. +Please believe me when I tell you I hoped to get out before you came. I +came early so that you would not find me--” + +“You are not letting me say what I want to say.” + +She came toward him, her hand extended. “Oh, I don't want to thank you +for lighting the fire and putting the room in order. I want to tell you +that I surrender.” + +“Surrender?” he exclaimed, staring. + +“I cannot fight you any longer,” she said breathlessly. + +He looked dumbly first at her hand and then into her eyes. She was an +arm's length away. + +“Fight me?” he mumbled, uncomprehending. + +“You--you said we could not be friends. I knew what you meant. If--if +you love me,--oh, if you do love me, we need not be friends. But I know +you love me. If I did not know it I could not have come to you like this +and--” + +“Do I love you?” he cried out. “My God, I--I worship you.” + +She held out both arms to him. “Then, we will try no more to be +friends,” she murmured very softly. “Here are my arms. I surrender.” + +A long time after he said to her as they sat before the jubilant, +applauding fire,--the only witness to their ecstasy: + +“Now I understand why we have never really been friends. It wasn't what +God intended. Even in the beginning we were not friends. We thought we +were,--but we weren't. We were lovers, Ruth,--from the start.” + +“I tried very hard to hate you,” she sighed, drawing a little closer +in the crook of his encircled arm. “How wonderful it all is,--how +wonderful!” + +“I never believed it could come true. I hoped, God, how I hoped,--but +it didn't seem possible that this could ever happen. I've wanted to hold +you in my arms, to kiss your dear lips, to kiss your eyes, to touch +your hair, to press you tight against my heart. And here I am awake, not +dreaming, not longing,--and I have done all these things. Lord! I wonder +if I can possibly be dreaming all this for the thousandth time.” + +“I was thinking of you when I came into this room,--not ten minutes +ago,--and suddenly I saw you. I was terrified. I knew then that my +dreams were coming true,--I knew it, and I don't know why I did not run +away. Any self-respecting, modest girl would have done so. But what did +I do? I, a supposedly sensible, well-brought-up--” + +“You caught me trying to run away,” he broke in. “I give you my word, +my heart was in my throat all the time I was working over that +fire,--scared stiff with the fear that you would come in and bayonet me +with one of those icicle looks of yours. And see what really happened!” + +They were silent for some time, staring into the fire. Suddenly his arm +tightened; he drew a sharp breath. She looked up quickly. + +“Why are you frowning?” + +“I was just thinking,” he replied after a moment's hesitation. + +He gave a queer little jerk of his head, as if casting off something +that bothered him. Into his paradise had slipped the memory of a night +not long since when he held the yielding, responsive form of another +woman in his arms, and felt the thrill of an ignoble passion surging +through his veins. The kiss of the sensualist had burned on his lips for +days; even to this hour it had clung to them; he was never free from +the fire it had started in his imagination. And always on Olga's red, +alluring lips lurked the reminder that she had not forgotten; in her +eyes lay the light of expectancy. + +“Of whom?” asked Ruth, not coyly, but with a directness that startled +him. She seemed to have divined that his thoughts were not of her in +that brief, flitting instant. + +“Of myself,” he answered, quite truthfully. + +She laid her hand on his. “I forbid you to think of any one but me,” she +said. + +He was silent for a moment. “I shall never think of any one but you, +Ruth Clinton,” he said earnestly. “You have nothing to fear.” + +“I believe you,” she said, and pressed his hand tightly. After a slight +pause, she went on, looking straight into his eyes: “I might have lost +you, dear,--and I could have blamed no one but myself. She--she is very +alluring.” + +He shook his head. “I've always been of the opinion that Samson's hair +needed trimming. His mother probably brought him up with Fauntleroy +curls, poor chap. If he'd had his hair cut regularly, he wouldn't have +looked such an ass when Delilah got through with him.” + +“I don't quite follow the parable.” + +“In other words, it's what a man's got in his head and not so much what +he's got on it that makes him strong,” he explained, still more or less +cryptically. + +“I am beginning to see. You made good use of what you have in your head, +is that it?” + +“I made use of what you put into it a good many months ago, dear heart. +You have been in my head and in my heart all these months, and so it was +you who made me strong. Without you in there, I might have been as +weak as Samson was before he had his hair cut. No sensible man blames +Delilah. In fact, men are rather strong for her. When you stop to think +how long old Samson got away with it, and what a shock it must have been +to her after she trimmed him and found there wasn't anything left to +speak of, you've just got to feel sorry for her. She took one good look +at his head and understood why he let his hair grow. He was like the +fellow who wears long whiskers to develop his chin. If Samson had +had room enough in his head for a thought of anything except himself, +Delilah wouldn't have been able to catch him napping.” + +She could not help laughing. “You take a most original way of evading +the point. Still, I am satisfied. You did not have room in your head +for any one else but me,--and that's all there is to it. I can't help +feeling tremendously complimented, however. She is quite capable of +turning any man's head.” + +“She plays fair, Ruth,” he said seriously. “She keeps the danger signal +up all the time. That's more than you can say for most women.” + +“Yes,” said she; “she plays fair. She is a strange woman. She has given +me a lot of advice,--and I am just beginning to take it.” + +“If I had believed what she told me three months ago,” said he, “this +glorious hour would have been advanced just that length of time.” + +Ruth stiffened. “What did she tell you?” + +“She told me I was a fool and a coward; that all I had to do was to walk +up to you and say 'Here, I want you,' and that would have been the +end of my suspense. She told me something I didn't know and couldn't +believe.” + +“Indeed! I like her impudence! She--” + +“She told me you were as much in love with me as I was with you. +Honest,--was she right?” + +Ruth sighed. “I suppose she was right.” + +“And would you have come to me if I had said 'I want you '?” + +“If you had said it as you say it now, I--listen! Good gracious! There +are the children!” + +She sprang to her feet, blushing furiously. The door opened and +three small children were fairly blown into the room,--three swarthy, +black-eyed urchins who stared in some doubt at the “boss” and the adored +“teacher.” + +“Good morning, children,” she cried out jerkily, and then glanced at +each of the windows in quick succession. “You don't suppose,--” she +began under her breath, turning to Percival with a distressed look in +her eyes. + +“I wouldn't put it above 'em,” said he, cheerfully. + +“We should have thought of the windows.” + +“Thank God, we didn't,” he cried. + +He went out into the storm with the song of the lark in his heart. + +“God, what a beautiful place the world is!” he was saying to himself, +and all the while the sleet was stinging his radiant face with the +relentlessness of angry bees. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +As he swung jauntily down the road in the direction of his “office,” + all the world might have seen that it was a beautiful place for him. He +passed children hurrying to school, and shouted envious “hurry-ups” to +them. Men and women, going about the morning's business, felt better for +the cheery greetings he gave them. Even Manuel Crust, pushing a crude +barrow laden with fire-wood, paused to look after the strutting figure, +resuming his progress with an annoyed scowl on his brow, for he had +been guilty of a pleasant response to Percival's genial “good-morning.” + Manuel went his way wondering what the devil had got into both of them. + +Olga Obosky was peering from a window as he passed her hut. He waved +his hand at her,--and then shook his head. He had passed her three +dancing-girls some distance down the road, romping like children in the +snow. + +Buck Chizler was waiting for him outside the “office.” The little jockey +had something on his mind,--something that caused him to grin sheepishly +and at the same time look furtively over his shoulder. + +“Can I see you for a coupla minutes, A. A.?” he inquired, following the +other to the door. + +“Certainly, Buck,--as many minutes as you like.” + +Buck discovered Randolph Fitts and Michael Malone seated before the +fire. He drew back. + +“I'd like to see you outside,” he said nervously. + +“Well, what is it?” asked Percival, stepping outside and closing the +door. + +Buck led him around the corner of the hut. + +“It ain't so windy here,” he explained. “Awful weather, ain't it?” + +“What's troubling you, Buck? Put on your cap, you idiot. You'll take +cold.” + +“Plumb nervousness,” said Buck. “Same as if I was pulling up to the +start with fifty thousand on the nag. I want to ask your advice, A. A. +Just a little private matter. Oh, nothing serious. Nothing like that, +you know. I just thought maybe you'd--Gosh, I never saw it snow like +this up home, did you? Funny, too, when you think how tropical we ought +to be. There was a bad blizzard a coupla years ago in Buenos Aires, +but--” + +“Come to the point, Buck. What's up?” + +Buck lowered his voice. “Well, you see it's this way. I'm thinking +of getting married. Tomorrow, if possible. Don't laugh! I don't see +anything to laugh at in--” + +“I beg your pardon, old chap. I couldn't help laughing. It's because I'm +happy. Don't mind me. Go ahead. You're thinking of getting married, eh? +Well, what's to prevent?” + +“Do you approve of it? That's what I want to know.” + +“Sure. Of course, I approve of it.” + +“I just thought I'd make sure. You see, nobody's ever got married here +before, and I didn't know what you'd think of me--er--sort of breaking +the ice, don't you see.” + +“She's finally said 'yes,' has she? Good girl! Congratulations, old +chap,--thousands of 'em'--millions.” + +“Well, that takes some of the load off my mind,” said Buck, as they +shook hands. “Now, there's one or two things more. First, she says she +won't come and live in a hut where five men besides myself are bunking. +I don't blame her, do you? Second, she says if we ever get rescued from +this island, she won't let me go to the war,--not a step, she swears. +I put up a holler right away. I says to her I was on my way to the war +before I ever met her, and then she says I ain't got anything on her. +She was going over to nurse. But she says if she gets married she's +going to claim exemption, or whatever they call it, and she says I got +to do the same,--'cause we'll both have dependents then. Then I says the +chances are the war's over by this time anyhow, and she says a feller +in the Argentine told her on his word of honour it wouldn't be over for +five years or more. But that's a minor point. What's rusting me is this: +how am I going to get rid of them five guys in my cabin?” + +“Have you told them you're going to be married?” + +“Oh, hell, they're the ones that told me.” + +“It's pretty rough weather to turn men out into the cold, unfeeling +world, Buck.” + +Buck scratched his ear in deep perplexity. “Well, it's got me guessing.” + He slumped into an attitude of profound dejection. “What we'd ought to +have done, A. A., was to build a hotel or something like that. If we had +a hotel here, there'd be so blamed many weddings you couldn't keep track +of 'em. That's the only thing that's holding people back. Why, half +the unmarried fellers here are thinking about getting married. They're +thinking, and thinking, and thinking, morning, noon and night. And +they've got the girls thinking, too,--and most of the widders and old +maids besides. I don't see how a smart feller like you, A. A., happened +to overlook the possibility of just this kind of thing happening.” + +“Good Lord, what have I got to do with it?” + +“Why, darn it all, you'd ought to have put up a few huts with 'For Rent' +signs on 'em, or else--” + +“By George, Buck! I've got it,” cried Percival excitedly. “Have you +thought of a wedding journey?” + +“A what?” + +“Wedding trip,--honeymoon.” + +“Well, we might walk up and down the main street here a coupla times,” + said Buck sarcastically. “Or take a stroll along the beach or something +like that.” + +“What's the matter with a nice long sea voyage?” + +“Say, I'm not kidding about this thing,” exclaimed Mr. Chizler, +bristling. “I'm in dead earnest.” + +“Has it occured to you that the Doraine is lying out there in the +harbour--Here! Look out! I don't like being hugged by--” + +“My gosh, A. A! Oh, my gosh!” barked the ecstatic bridegroom-apparent. +“How did you happen to think of such a beautiful, wonderful--” + +“How did I happen to think of it?” shouted Percival, just as +ecstatically. “Why, darn your eyes, why shouldn't I think of it? Why did +old Noah think of the Ark? Why, I ask you?” + +“He didn't,” said Buck succinctly. “The feller that wrote the Bible +thought of it.” + +“What time is it? Oh, Lord, nearly three hours yet before school is +out.” + +“Say, are you off your base,--lemme smell your breath. You act +like--Wait a second! There's something else I want to speak to you +about. Is it--is it all right for me to get married? She says I'll have +to get your O. K. before she'll move an inch. She says nobody can do +anything around here without you say so. So I--” + +“You tell her I give my consent gladly, Buck, my boy. Give her a good +kiss for me, and say I'll speak to Captain Trigger this afternoon about +passage on the Doraine. By George, I--I think I'll go and speak to him +about it now.” + +“Much obliged, boss. By gosh, you are a brick. There ain't anything you +won't do for a friend, is there?” + +Percival blushed and stammered. “I--I've got to see him anyhow, +Buck,--so don't thank me. By the way, while I'm about it, I suppose +I might as well speak to Parson Mackenzie, eh? Or is it to be Father +Francisco? And that reminds me, I'll have to see Malone and find out +about the legality,--got to have the law on our side, you see, Buck. +Something in the form of a license,--United States of America and all +that,--and also see about fixing up desirable quarters on board the +Doraine. I may have to transfer quite a lot of--er--furniture and so +forth from my hut to the ship, and--” + +“Gee whiz, A. A., you mustn't go to so blamed much trouble for me,” + gasped the delighted Buck. + +“Eh? What? Oh, the devil take you! Beat it now. I'm going to be mighty +busy this morning.” + +“I'll do as much for you, A. A., if you ever get married,” cried Buck, +once more wringing the other's hand. Then he was off up the road like a +schoolboy. + +Shortly before the noon recess, Percival returned from the Doraine. By +this time, the news had spread through the camp that there was to be a +wedding. Every one he met hailed him with the excited question: + +“Say, have you heard the news?” + +“What news?” + +“There's going to be a wedding.” + +“Good Lord!” said Percival to himself. “They must have been peeping +through those windows after all.” + +Finding that he had ten minutes to spare before school was out, he +decided to call upon Mrs. Spofford. That lady received him with icy +politeness. + +“I have been expecting you,” she said. “Your friend Mr. Shay honoured us +with a visit yesterday. My niece is at the school. Will you sit down and +wait for her, or--” + +“I beg your pardon. What was that you said about Shay?” + +“I said he came to see us.” + +Percival stared, “He did?” + +“Please sit down, Mr. Percival. Do not ask me to tell you anything more +about Mr. Shay,” she went on hurriedly, and in some confusion. “I don't +believe he would like it,--and as he is a dangerous character, I beg of +you not to--” + +“If Soapy Shay dared to intrude--” + +“I implore you, do not think anything more about it. He was most +courteous and polite and all that.” + +He remained standing, his gaze fixed upon her face. Somehow, he guessed +the nature of Soapy's visit. + +“I suppose he came as a tale-bearer.” + +“I must decline to discuss the matter, Mr. Percival.” + +“Mrs. Spofford,” he began, with all the dignity of a courtier, “I have +come to request the hand of your niece in marriage. I have loved her +from the very--” + +“Oh, God!” groaned the trembling lady. “It has come at last! It has +come,--just as I feared. For pity's sake, Mr. Percival, spare her! She +is--” + +“I beg your pardon,” he broke in, flushing. “I think you misunderstand +me. I am asking your consent to marry her. I believe it is still +customary among gentlemen to consult the--” + +“Permit me to interrupt you, Mr. Percival,” said she, regaining her +composure and her austerity. “What you ask is quite impossible. My niece +is,--ah,--I may say tentatively engaged. I am sorry for you. Perhaps it +would be just as well if you did not wait for her to come in. She will +be--” + +“Mrs. Spofford, I am obliged to confess to you that I have already +spoken to Miss Clinton, and I may add that she is not tentatively +engaged. She has promised to be my wife.” + +She drew back as if struck. She was silent for many seconds. + +“It would appear that my consent is not necessary, Mr. Percival,” she +said at last, “Why do you come to me?” + +“Because, while you may not suspect it, I was born a gentleman,” said he +stiffly. + +She received this with a slight nod of the head and no more. + +“My niece, no doubt in her excitement, has neglected to ask you one or +two very important questions,” she said levelly. “First of all, have you +any means of convincing us that you do not already possess a wife?” + +He started. “You are right,” he said. “That is an important question, +and she has not asked it. I have no means of convincing you that I have +never been married, Mrs. Spofford. My word of honour is the only thing I +can offer.” + +She regarded him narrowly. “Do you consider that sufficient, Mr. +Percival?” + +“I do,” said he simply. She waited for him to go on, and was distinctly +impressed by his failure to do so. So far as he was concerned, there was +nothing more to be added. + +“How are we to know what your past life contains? You may have left your +homeland in disgrace, you may even have been a fugitive from justice. We +have no means of knowing. You were a stowaway on board the Doraine. That +much, at least, we do know. We know nothing more. You are smart, you +are clever. Surely you must see yourself that under other circumstances, +under normal conditions, my niece would not have condescended to notice +you, Mr. Percival. We are on an undiscovered island, remote from the +environment, the society, the--” + +“Permit me to remind you, Mrs. Spofford,” he interrupted, a trifle +coldly, “that you just remarked that you know nothing whatever about me. +Isn't it barely possible that my life may contain something desirable in +the shape of family, position and environment?” + +“I recall that Mr. Gray did speak of knowing the Percival family. My +niece never allows me to forget it.” + +“Mr. Gray did not know my family. He knew of my family, Mrs. Spofford, +if that conveys anything to you. Not that they would not have been proud +to have known him, for he was a gentleman. As for my own case, I can +only say that I am not a fugitive from justice, nor have I done anything +more disgraceful than the average young man who has been through college +and who, ignoring the counsel of his father, proceeds to find out for +himself the same things that his father had found out a great many years +before,--and his father before him, and so on back to the beginning of +man. My great-great-grandfather on my mother's side was a comparatively +recent settler in America. He didn't come over from Scotland until about +1750. My father's people came over in the days of Lord Baltimore. Most +of my remote ancestors were very wicked men. You will find that one of +them was executed in the Tower of London the same week that Lady Jane +Grey went to her death, and another was openly in love with Mistress +Nell Gwyn, thereby falling into disgrace with a monarch named Charles. I +admit that I come of very bad stock.” + +A fleeting twinkle lurked in her eyes. + +“You are very adroit, Mr. Percival.” + +“Which is as much as to say that I have an agreeable and interesting way +of lying. Is that what you wish to imply, Mrs. Spofford?” + +“Not at all. I say you are adroit because you place me in an +embarrassing position. If I believe your confession that you come of +bad stock, I must also believe that you come of an exceedingly good +old Maryland family.” He bowed very low. “My niece, Mr. Percival, is an +orphan. I am and have been her protector since she was fourteen years +of age. She is the possessor of a large fortune in her own right. Her +father,--who was my brother,--gave her into my care when he was on his +death-bed. I leave you to surmise just what were his dying words to me. +She was his idol. I have not failed him in any respect. You ask me to +give my consent to your marriage. I cannot do so. No doubt you will be +married, just as you have planned. She loves you. I have known it for +months. I have seen this day and hour coming,--yes, I have seen it even +more clearly than she, for while she struggled desperately to deceive +herself she has never been able to deceive me. You are a strong, +attractive man. The glamour of mystery rests upon you. You have done +prodigious deeds here, Mr. Percival. All of this I recognize, and I +should be unfair to my own sense of honour were I to deny you my respect +and gratitude. I must be fair. Fear has been the cause of my attitude +toward you,--not fear of you, sir, but fear for my niece. Now I am +confronted by the inevitable. The thing I have tried so hard to avoid +has come to pass. In these circumstances, I am forced to confess that +I have not been without a real, true admiration for you. I admit that +I have felt a great security with you in command of our camp. But, even +so, you are not the man I would have chosen to be Ruth's husband. The +time is surely coming when we will be delivered from this island prison, +when we will return to the life and the people and the conditions we +knew before catastrophe made a new world for us. I am thinking of that +time, Mr. Percival, and not of the present. I fear my niece is thinking +only of the present and not of the future.” + +He had listened with grave deference. “Forgive me if I appear +impertinent, Mrs. Spofford, but is it not, after all, the past you are +thinking about?” + +She did not answer at once. His question had startled her. + +“Youth does not live in the past,” he went on quietly. “It deals only +with the present. I love Ruth Clinton,--I love her with the cleanest +love a man can feel for a woman. It will not alter when we leave this +island. If we are fated to spend the rest of our lives here, it will +endure to the end.” + +“You are speaking for yourself,” she said. “Can you speak for Ruth?” + +“No, I cannot,” he admitted. “Nor can you,” he added boldly. “That is +what I meant when I asked if you were not thinking chiefly of the past. +I cannot say that Ruth will love me always, but I can say this: she +loves me now, as I love her, and in her heart she has said just what I +said to you a moment ago,--that her love will endure.” + +“I daresay I do think more of the past than of the present, Mr. +Percival. You are right about the future. It is a blank page, to be +glorified or soiled by what is set down upon it. Fate has thrown you +two together. Perhaps it was so written in the past that you despise. +A single turn of the mysterious wheel of fortune brought you into her +life. Half a turn,--the matter of minutes,--and you would never have +seen each other, and you would have gone your separate ways to the end +of time without even knowing that the other existed. No doubt you both +contend that you cannot live without each other. It is the usual wail of +lovers. But are you quite as certain in your minds that you would have +perished if you had never seen each other?” + +The note of irony did not escape him. He smiled. “In that case, Mrs. +Spofford, we should not have existed at all.” + +She shook her head despairingly. “You are too clever for me,” she said. +“I warn you, however, that I shall do everything in my power to persuade +Ruth to reconsider her promise to you.” + +“Nothing could be fairer than that,” said he, without rancor. “If she +comes to me this afternoon and says she has changed her mind and cannot +marry me, I shall not ask her again. Will you be kind enough, Mrs. +Spofford, to include that in your argument? It may spare her a lot of +worry and anxiety.” + +He bowed ceremoniously and took his departure. She went to the window +and, drawing aside the curtain, watched him until he disappeared down +the road. Then, as the curtain fell into place, she said to herself: + +“Their children will be strong and beautiful.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +A fortnight later, Ruth and Percival were married. He was now governor +of Trigger Island. + +The ceremony took place at noon on the Green in front of the Government +Building,--(an imposing name added to the already extensive list by +which the “meeting-house” was known),--and was attended by the whole +population of the island. His desire for a simple wedding had been +vigorously, almost violently opposed by the people. Led by Randolph +Fitts and the eloquent Malone, they demanded the pomp and ceremony of a +state wedding. As governor of Trigger Island, they clamoured, it was his +duty to be married in the presence of a multitude! A general holiday was +declared, a great “barbecue” was arranged--(minus the roasted ox),--and +when it was all over, the joyous throng escorted the governor and his +lady to the gaily decorated “barge” that was to transport them from the +landing to the Doraine. + +Olga Obosky made the bride's bonnet and veil, and draped the latter on +the morning of the wedding day. Like the fabled merchants of the Arabian +Nights she appeared to the bride-elect and displayed her wares. From the +depths of her theatre trunks she produced a bewildering assortment of +laces, chiffon, silks, and the filmiest of gauzes. + +“You must not be afraid zat they will contaminate you,” she explained, +noting the look of dismay in Ruth's eyes. “Zey have never adorned my +body, zey have never been expose to the speculating eye of the public, +zey have not hid from view these charms of mine. No, these are fair +and virtuous fabrics. It is you who will be the first to wear them, my +friend. Take your choice. See! Zis piece, is it not wonderful? It comes +from Buda Pesth. One day it would perhaps have caressed my flesh in the +Dance of the Sultan's Dream,--but, alas,--zat is not to be. Feel, my +friend,--take it in your hand. See? You could hide it in the palm of one +of them,--and presto! Throw it outspread,--and it is like a blanket of +mist filling the room. It is priceless. It is unobtainable. None except +Obosky can afford to dance in such imperial stuff as this. Take it,--it +is yours. It is my pleasure that you should have it. Better far it +should be your bridal veil than to drape these abandoned legs of mine.” + +And so it was that the scant costume of the Sultan's Dream became the +bridal veil of the governor's lady. + +If Olga Obosky was sore at heart, she gave no sign. On the contrary, +she revealed the sprightliest interest in the coming nuptials. Percival +himself had told her the news within the hour after his interview with +Mrs. Spofford. In his blind happiness, he had failed to notice the +momentary stiffening of her body as if resisting a shock; he did not see +the hurt, baffled look that darkened her eyes for a few seconds, and +the swiftly passing pallor that stole into her face and vanished almost +instantly. He saw only the challenging smile that followed close upon +these fleeting signs, and the mocking gleam in her eyes. + +“So?” she had said. “So the citadel is yours, my friend. Hail to the +chief! I salute you. But consider, O conqueror, what it is you are +about to do. You are setting a woeful example. There will be a stampede, +a panic. People will trample each other under foot in ze mad rush +for captivity. The wedding bell will crack under ze strain of so much +ringing. Everybody will be getting married, now zat they find it is so +easy and so simple. I congratulate you, my friend. You have been very +slow,--I have said she was yours for the asking, you will remember. She +is good, she is beautiful, she is pure gold, my friend. I am her friend. +Do not ever forget, my Percivail, I am her friend.” + +He flushed warmly. He could not misinterpret her meaning. She spoke +slowly, deliberately. It was renunciation on her part. + +“I understand, Olga,” he said. + +She smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. + +“Oh, but you do not understand!” she cried. “You are so very much +perplexed. It is enough for me that you are perplexed. I am content. I +am the puzzle you will never solve. So! La la! You will never cease to +wonder. Look!” + +She pointed her finger at a man who was crossing the Green below them. + +“I am a puzzle to zat man also. He thought that he understood.” + +“Landover? What do you mean?” + +A spasm of fury transformed her features. She hissed out the words: + +“I did spit in his face last night,--zat is all.” + +The thirteenth of April, 1918, came on Saturday. Defying superstition, +Ruth selected it as her wedding day. It was a bright, warm autumn day, +bestowed by a gallant sun, and there was great rejoicing over this +evidence of God's approval. It came as a winter's whim, for that night +the skies were black and thunderous; the winds roared savagely between +the lofty walls of Split Mountain and whined across the decks of the +slanting Doraine, snug in the little basin, while out on the boundless +deep the turmoil of hell was raging. + +And so began the honeymoon of the stowaway and the lady fair, even as +the “voyage” of the jockey and his bride had begun a fortnight before. +They sat at the Captain's table in the ghostly, dismantled saloon. Above +them hung two brightly burnished lanterns, shedding a mellow light upon +the festal board. Outside, the whistling wind, the swish of the darkened +waters, the rattle of davits and the creak of the straining timbers. + +Up from his place at the head of the table rose the gray and gallant +skipper. + +“Up, gentlemen,” said he, his face aglow. “I give you the health, the +happiness and the never diminishing glory of the governor's lady.” + +“May she never be less,” added the gaunt First Officer, who spent his +days ashore watching the growth of a new Doraine and his nights on board +with the failing master of the older one. + +And in the rare old port from the Captain's locker they pledged the +radiant bride. + +“A long voyage and a merry one!” cried Mr. Codge, the purser, as he +drained his goblet dry. + +Mr. Furman Nicholas Chizler bowed very gravely to the lady on the +Captain's right, and then to the one at his left. + +“What care we which way we sail so long as the wind's behind us?” quoth +he. + + + + + + +BOOK THREE + +CHAPTER I. + + +In the far-off Northland it is winter again,--the winter of 1919-20. +Trigger Island is bright and clean with the furbishings of summer. It +is January,--January without its coat of white,--January as green as the +tender gourd. + +There are a dozen graves or more on Cape Sunrise; Betty Cruise no longer +lies alone out on the windswept point. Crudely chiseled on the rough +headstones are names that have not been mentioned in this chronicle, +still not the less enduring. One name is there, however, chipped in a +great black slab from the face of Split Mountain, that will never +be forgotten as long as Trigger Island exists: it is that of Captain +Weatherby Trigger. + +The master of the Doraine died aboard-ship in the second winter. After +his death the ship was abandoned. Mr. Codge and the half-dozen old +mariners who had made their home in the dismal hulk came ashore. + +Grim and ugly and as silent as the grave, save for the winds that moan +through her portholes and corridors, she lies rusting in sun and storm, +a gloomy presence that fills the soul with awe. Even the birds of the +air shun her barren decks; less fastidious bats have taken up their +abode in the heart of her, and spiders great and small are at work on a +sickly shroud. + +Twenty months have passed. Christmas and New Year's day have twice been +celebrated and another Easter Sunday has found its way into the faithful +journal of Peter Snipe, and with them two amazing Fourths of July when +there was coasting on the long slopes and winter sports on the plains. +There has been one bountiful harvest and seed has been sown for yet +another. The full length of the sunny plain is under cultivation. The +bins in the granaries are well-filled with the treasures of the soil; +the gardens have increased and flourished; the warehouse is stacked +with fresh and dried fruits, vegetables, honey, and row upon row of +preserves! Great earthen jars, modeled with all the severity of the +primitive cave-dweller, serve as receptacles. The grist-mill on Leap +Frog River is busy from dawn till dusk; the forge rings with the music +of hammer and anvil; a saw-mill in the heart of Dismal Forest hums its +whining tune all day long. A noisy, determined engine, fashioned by +mechanics out of material taken from the engine and boiler room of the +Doraine provides the motive power for the saws and the means to produce +ponderous, far-reaching blasts on the transferred “fog-horn.” + +New and more commodious huts have gone up, roads have been blazed +through the forests, a logging ferry plies between the opposite shores +of Mott Haven, and a ship is on the ways above the landing “stage.” + +At the top of Split Mountain stands a lofty wireless tower. For months +it has been spitting vain messages to the four winds. Out of the great +silences at rare intervals come faint flickers of radio calls, jumbled, +indistinct, undecipherable,--but, for all that, definite pulse beats of +a far-off life. + +Trigger Island went mad with joy when the first of these aerial +mutterings was reported down from the mountain-top. “Only a question +of time now,” they cried in their delirium. But weeks went by before +another sound was heard. Now the report of feeble, long-separated +manifestations, like vague spirit-rappings, no longer caused excitement +or enthusiasm,--only a rueful shaking of heads. + +Lieutenant Platt's station at the top of the mountain is a rude, +elementary affair, notwithstanding the many weary, puzzling, +disheartening months spent in its construction. The damaged, almost +useless dynamo from the Doraine had to be repaired and conveyed to the +crest of the eminence; what seemed to be fruitless ages were consumed +in devising an engine with power sufficient to produce even the feeble +results that followed. And when the task of installing the plant was +completed, the effective radius was far short of a hundred miles. +Constant efforts were being made to develop greater sending power, but +the means at hand were inadequate, the material unobtainable. + +The firing of the Doraine's gun had long since been discontinued. The +supply of shells being greatly reduced, Lieutenant Platt decided to +waste no more of them, but to wait for some visible evidence that a +vessel was within signalling distance: a shadowy plume of smoke on +the far horizon or the white tip of a sail peeping over the rim of the +world. + +Frugality is the watchword. The days of plenty are sternly guarded so +that their substance may not be squandered; always there is the thought +of the lean year that may come, the year when the harvests fail and +famine stalks naked through the land. + +The first law, therefore, is thrift. Not thrift in its common, accepted +sense, based on the self-denial of the individual, but a systematic +shoulder-to-shoulder stand for the general welfare of the community. +There is no such thing as waste on Trigger Island. The grim spectre of +want and privation treads softly behind every mortal there, and there is +none who treats its invisible presence with disdain. Even the wood-ashes +from stoves and fireplaces are carefully hoarded in hoppers, for the +alkaline solution obtained by treating them with water is lye. This lye +is being used chiefly in the production of a soap not unlike that made +by thrifty farmers' wives in the Argentine, experimentation with +the pulpy fruit of a tree belonging to the variety known as Sapindus +marginatus bringing about rather astonishing results. + +For many months of the year the people wear sandals on their bare feet. +Only those who toil in the forests don the uncouth boots turned out +by the firm of cobblers known as Block & Nicklestick. Shoes, boots +and slippers of another day are zealously guarded by their owners, in +anticipation of still another day,--the day of deliverance. “Waste not, +want not,” is the motto of Trigger Island. + +The second winter brought a double catastrophe, and for days thereafter +deepest gloom prevailed. Even the stout-hearted Percival drooped under +the weight of it. + +Fire wiped out the work of months in the space of a few bleak, bitter +hours. The sturdy little ship that was so well along toward completion +was destroyed. + +Months of faithful, patient, dogged toil had resulted in the +construction of a stout hull which stood proudly on the ways to +be admired and glorified by the eager, confident supporters of the +determined little band of builders. Six weeks more would have seen the +vessel off the ways and floating gaily on the surface of the snug little +basin, ready for the final touches, the provisioning and the ultimate +departure of the hardy company that was to take her out into the open +stretches in quest of the helping hand. For weeks a devoted, one-minded +community had been preparing food, raiment and comforts for the men who +were to go forth in the new Doraine. The masts and spars were in place, +the forecastle and cabin were almost ready for occupancy, the galley was +nearing completion,--and then came swift, relentless disaster. + +The night was cold and windy. Down at the water's edge, almost under the +bulging side of the ship, two men had their quarters at one end of the +low, rambling carpenter shop. At the other end was located the forge. +The very thing they were there to guard against happened on this +miserable night. Fire broke out in the forge. + +The man on watch had fallen asleep. His name was Smiley. It is mentioned +here for the only time in this narrative. + +Shortly before midnight, his companion was awakened by the smell of +smoke. He scrambled out of his blankets on the floor,--and cursed the +man who still slept in his chair beside the smoke-befogged lantern on +the end of a carpenter's bench. Flames were creeping along the wooden +partition separating the forge from the shop. Half a mile away three +hundred men were sleeping,--but half a mile is half a mile. Before the +watchmen could sound the alarm, after their first courageous efforts +to subdue the blaze, the building was a roaring mass of flames and a +gleeful wind had carried tongues of fire to the side of the vessel where +they licked shapeless black patterns at first and then swiftly turned +them to red. + +Stark-eyed, shivering people stood far back among the trees throughout +the rest of the night and watched the work of months go up in flame and +smoke. Nothing could be done to save the ship. Hewn from the hardiest +trees in the forest, caulked and fortified to defy the most violent +assaults of water, she was like paper in the clutch of flames. In the +grey of early morn the stricken people slunk back to their cabins and +gave up hope. For not only was their ship destroyed but the priceless +tools and implements with which she had been built were gone as well. It +was the double catastrophe that took the life, the spirit, out of them. + +And while the day was still breaking, the man who had slept at his post, +stole off into the forest and cut his throat from ear to ear. + +But now, months afterward, another ship is on the ways. Indomitable, +undaunted, the builders rose above disaster and set to work again. +New tools were fashioned from steel and iron and wood,--saws, chisels, +sledges, planes and hammers--in fact, everything except the baffling +augurs. Resolute, unbeaten hands toiled anew, and this time the humble +craft was not to be given a luckless name. + +Superstition was rife. All save Andrew Mott saw ill-omen in the name +“Doraine.” Steadfastly he maintained that as the Doraine had brought +them safely to the island, guided by a divine Providence, a Doraine +could be trusted to take them as miraculously away. And as for changing +the name of his prattling ward, he fairly roared his objection; though +an uncommonly mild man for a sailor, he uttered such blasphemous things +to a group of well-meaning women that even Sheriff Soapy Shay was +aghast. + +After the dreary period that followed the disaster, there came a sharp +awakening as from a dream filled with horrors. Something lying dormant +in the com-mon breast had stirred. It was the unbeaten spirit that would +not die. These men and women lifted up their heads and beheld the star +of hope undimmed. In a flash, the aspect changed. + +“We must start all over again,” was the cry that awoke them, and from +that time on there was no such word as fail in the lexicon of Trigger +Island. + +Slowly, laboriously out of the ashes rose a new hull, a stauncher one +than its ill-fated predecessor. The year wasted in the building of the +first ship was lamented but not mourned. Cheerfulness, even optimism, +prevailed throughout the village. No man, no woman lifted the voice +of complaint. Resignation took the form of stoicism. A sort of dogged +taciturnity was measurably relieved by the never-failing spirit of +camaraderie. There was even a touch of bravado in the attitude of these +people toward each other,--as of courage kept up by scoffing. Even +Death, on his sombre visits, was regarded with a strange derision by +those who continued to spin. They had cheated him not once but many +times, and they mocked him in their souls. + +“I'm not afraid of Death,” was Buck Chizler's contribution. “I've just +discovered that Death is the rottenest coward in the world. He either +waits till you get too blamed old to fight, or else he jumps on you when +you ain't looking, or when you're so weak from sickness you don't care +what happens. I used to be afraid of Death. And why? Because I wasn't +onto the old bum; Why, look at what he does. He jumps onto weeny little +babies and feeble old women and--and horses. Now, I'm onto him, and I +ain't got any use for a cheap sport,--not me.” + +The little community had taken to religion. As is invariably the case, +adversity seeks surcease in some form of piety. Men who had not entered +a church since the days of their childhood, men who had scoffed at the +sentimentality of religion, now found consolation in the thing they had +once despised. They were abashed and bewildered at first, as one after +another they fell into the habit of attending services. They were +surprised to find something that they needed, something that made life +simpler and gentler for them, something uplifting. + +“We're a queer mess of Puritans,” reflected Randolph Fitts. “You know +that parrot of old Bob Carr's? Well, he took it out and wrung its neck +last night,--after all the time, and trouble, and patience he spent in +giving her a swell private education. There never was a bird that could +swear so copiously as that bird of Bob's. He taught her every thing +she knew. He worked day and night to provide her with an up-to-date +vocabulary. He used to lie awake nights thinking up new words for old +Polly to conquer. Now he says the blamed old rip was deceiving him all +the time. She began springing expletives on him that he'd never heard +of before in all his forty years before the mast. She first began using +them a couple of months ago when he undertook to reform her. He +started in to teach her to say 'good gracious' and 'goodness me' and +'hoity-toity' and all such stuff, and she cursed so loud and so long +that he had to throw a bucket of water on her. + +“Every time he came home from church, that redheaded harridan would open +up on him with such a string of vituperation that he had to hold his +ears so's not to forget himself and backslide. Well, it got so that Bob +couldn't live with her any longer. She simply wouldn't puritanize. The +nearest he ever got her to saying 'good' was when she said it with only +one 'o,' and then as prefix to 'dammit.' So he decided the only way to +reform her was to murder her. She managed to nip a piece out of his hand +while he was doing it, however, and he's had the hump all day because he +fell from grace and said something he'd oughtn't to. Yes, sir; we're a +queer mess of Puritans. Look at us. Catholics, Presbyterians, +Baptists, Methodists, Jews, infidels, Theosophists,--even Christian +Scientists,--all rolled up into one big bundle labeled: 'Handle with +Prayer.' We know nearly all the Ten Commandments by heart, and the +Beatitudes flow from us in torrents. My wife was saying only the other +night that if Sheriff Shay didn't arrest that bird for using profane +language, she'd start a petition to have--Hello, Soapy! I didn't know +you were present.” + +“What was she going to do?” demanded the Sheriff of Trigger Island. + +“There's no use telling you now. It's too late. Polly has gone to a +place I don't dare mention, so what's the use talking about it?” + +“I can't go 'round pinchin' fallen parrots,” growled Soapy. “Besides, +I'm the feller that learned her most of the cuss-words old Bob never +heard before. I never saw a bird that was so anxious to improve. She +used to set there with her ear cocked, just simply crazy to learn +something new. Every time she'd see me coming she'd begin to hop up and +down on her perch and call me names, figurin' I'd lose my temper and +give her a tongue lashin'. Gosh, I'm glad she's dead. It was gettin' +to be an awful nuisance chasing parrots out of the trees back of Bob's +house. They got so's they'd come down there and set around all day +pickin' up things she said. Somebody told me the other day he heard a +parrot 'way up in the woods swearin' like a sailor. He fired a club at +it, and what do you think it said to him?” + +“If you weren't such an ungodly liar, Soapy, I'd ask you,” said Chief +Justice Malone. + +Soapy regarded him sorrowfully. + +“If you keep on sayin' things like that, Judge, I'll have to tell your +wife you ain't true to her,” said he. + +“And that would be the most prodigious lie you ever told,” exclaimed Mr. +Malone. + +“Sure. You and me know it's a lie, but you'd ketch hell, just the same.” + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The population of Trigger Island has increased. Following the example +of Buck Chizler and the Governor himself, scores of dubious lovers +took heart. They succeeded in dispelling certain misgivings--and doubts +lurking in the hearts,--not to say consciences,--of approximately +three-fourths of the unmarried women on the island, with the result that +Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie were kept exceedingly busy for a +number of weeks. + +The “state,” guided by the newly elected Chief Justice, extracted vows +even more severe than those incorporated in the marriage +service. And yet, despite the emphatic declarations of certain +candidates,--principally male,--there remained in the minds of +all,--including brides,--a lingering doubt. On the other hand, several +ardent and undoubtedly honest gentlemen were unable to marry the objects +of their affection for the simple reason that too many people were able +to recall the lamentations of the ladies themselves, in the early days +when it was customary to suffer because of the suspense and agony their +poor husbands were enduring at home. + +The case of Joe Hooker and Matilda Larson was particularly distressing, +and ultimately led to the passage of a rather drastic law by the +Council. Judge Malone was the father of this law. It provided for the +automatic annulment of all previous marriages at the expiration of two +years,--provided, however, the absent husband or wife didn't turn up to +contest the matter. This law also granted absolute freedom to the absent +husband or wife, who was thereby authorized to remarry without further +notice,--or words to that effect. It was, declared Randolph Fitts, a +perfectly just and equable law, and would no doubt ease the minds of +quite a number of people in far-off lands,--if they ever heard of it. + +Joe and Matilda had been married nearly two months when, in the thick +of a connubial row, he demanded her passport. He even went so far as to +threaten her with his if she didn't produce it at once. Matilda's +temper was no milder than Joe's. She not only dug up her passport but a +marriage certificate as well, while all he could show was a passport. +It was a very unfortunate contretemps, in view of the fact that they +shortly afterwards kissed and “made up.” It so happened that there +were quite a number of witnesses to the flaunting of these damaging +documents, and as Trigger Island was then in the first stages of a +religious upheaval, it was impossible to overlook this definite instance +of iniquity. Despite the recantations of the chagrined couple,--and, +it must be added, the surreptitious disappearance of the incriminating +papers,--the matter was brought before the tribunal of justice. Chief +Justice Malone was equal to the emergency. Indeed, he had been expecting +something of the sort, and was prepared. He ordered both of the +interested parties to bring suit for divorce from their legal spouses, +one for “failure to provide,” the other for “desertion,” and promptly +granted decrees, service by publication having been obtained through the +medium of the Trigger Island Pioneer, printed monthly by Peter Snipe, +editor and publisher, limited to an edition of one, owing to the +scarcity of paper, and posted conspicuously for all subscribers on the +bulletin board in front of the “government building.” Additional spice +was lent to the affair by the surprising reluctance of Joe and Matilda +to re-enter the paradise from which they had been ejected. Apparently +they had had enough of each other. Moreover, they had both “got +religion” and insisted on repenting at leisure, separately and alone. +But people took a very decided stand in the matter. They could repent in +any manner they liked after Matilda's baby was born, but not before. And +so they were married once more, and, strange to relate, lived happily +and contentedly thereafter. + +Now, while all this may strike the reader as footless and trivial, it +really has a distinct place in the chronicles of Trigger Island. +If, perforce, the writer has succeeded in treating the situation +facetiously, it should not be assumed that the people of Trigger Island +had any desire or inclination to be funny about it. On the contrary, +they took it very seriously, and quite naturally so, if one stops to +consider the narrow confines by which their very existence was bounded. +There were no such things as “trifles” in the daily life of Trigger +Island. The smallest incident took on the importance of an event, the +slightest departure from the ordinary at once became significant. In +other circumstances, these people would have been vastly amused by the +quixotic settlement of the affairs of Joe and Matilda; they would have +grinned over the extraordinary decree of Justice Malone, and they would +have taken it all with an indulgent wink. As a matter of fact, they +were stern-faced and intense. They had made laws of their own, they had +established a code. The violation of either was not to be countenanced. +It was of no consequence to them that Judge Malone's methods were +without precedent, that they were not even a travesty in the true light +of the law. + +No one was more soberly in earnest than Michael Malone himself. The +proceedings were carried out with the utmost dignity and formality. +There were no smiles, no jocose comments. + +Nothing will serve more clearly to illustrate the sense of isolation to +which the people of Trigger Island had resigned themselves than the fact +that they accepted the Judge's decision and the subsequent marriage +as absolutely unassailable, either from a legal or an ethical point of +view. + +The town itself was flourishing. Traffic and commerce were carried on +in the most systematic, organized manner. Everybody was busy. The utter +impossibility for one man or set of men to profit at the expense of +others naturally put a curb upon ambitions, but it did not subdue the +spirit of enterprise. + +There is a baby in the Governor's Mansion,--a lusty boy with blue eyes +and an engaging smile. He is four months old, and his name is already a +household word on Trigger Island. It is not Algernon, nor is it Adonis. +It is John;--John Clinton Percival. + +The Governor's Mansion is a pretentious structure. It has four rooms and +a bath! A wide porch extends along the full front of the house, with a +steeply pitched awning protecting it from the rain and sun. At one end +of the porch is a very cosy arrangement of hand-wrought chairs and +a commodious swinging seat. The other end, just off the parental +bed-chamber, has been converted into an out-door sleeping-room for John +C. Percival. The Governor's lady has no nursemaid. She does her own +housework, her own washing and ironing, and she takes care of her own +baby. (There is no such thing on Trigger Island as a servant. More +than one woman who reads this tale will sigh and murmur something about +Paradise.) Ruth still teaches in the little school. Though she is the +first lady of the land, she supports herself, she earns her daily bread. +It is the law irrevocable. There are no distinctions. Nor would she have +it otherwise. + +The “Mansion,” as it was universally called, stands alone at the upper +end of the Green, facing the meeting-house. The nearest hut is at least +two hundred yards away. Work on its construction was begun the day +after the wedding. For weeks men had toiled eagerly, enthusiastically, +voluntarily, and in the first gay days of spring it was completed. +Since then, the same hands, the same thoughts, the same interests were +constantly employed in improvements,--not only to the house itself but +to the grounds about it. The Governor's “Mansion” became the plaything +of the people. Percival's protests were received with amiable grins. + +“It's our house, boss,--not yours,” explained Buck Chizler, whose spare +time was largely expended in the development,--you might almost say, +the financing,--of a flower-bed on the lawn. It was to be the finest +flower-bed of them all, he swore. “This is government property and we, +the people, are going to do what we please with it.” + +“That's all very fine, Buck, but don't you think you ought to be +spending your spare hours with your wife, instead of puttering around +here?” + +“Do you know who the boss of this job is? My wife. I'm nothing but an +ordinary day-laborer, a plain Mick, a sort of a Wop, obeying orders. +Good gosh, you don't think I've got brains enough to design this +flower-bed, do you? No, sirree! It takes an artist to think up a design +like this. When I get all these rocks in place according to plans you'll +see what I mean. It'll be a hum-dinger, A. A. This here thing running +off this way is the tail. Come over here and look at it from this +side,--it's upside down from where you're standin'.” + +“Tail? Tail of what?” + +“Tail of a horse. This is going to be a horse when it's finished.” + +“My God!” + +Buck was not above being irritated by the dismay in Percival's voice. + +“Minnie's got her heart set on it, A. A.,” he explained. “It's going to +be a sorrel horse, you see,--with a blue tail and a red head. Mustard, +hollyhocks and geraniums is what she's going to plant here when I get +the bed fixed. Socrates,--he was the best horse I ever straddled,--he +was a sorrel. I took him down the--” + +“As far as you've got, Buck, it looks more like a dachshund than a +horse,” observed Percival. + +Buck eyed his work deprecatingly. “That's because there ain't space +enough. I had to either saw his legs off or else have him layin' down. +Minnie had him kneelin' in her first sketch, but gosh, it was the +funniest thing you ever saw. It ain't possible for a horse to kneel +with his hind legs, but she had him doin' it all right,--kneeling +forward, at that, with his tail stickin' straight up so's it wouldn't +be in the way of his heels. It's all Jack Wales's fault. He simply would +put that blamed sun-dial of his right in the middle of this plot,--and +these doggoned gravel-walks running every which way give me the +blind-staggers. Why, A. A., you got more gravel walks here than +they've got in Central Park. And all these scrubby hedges, stone walls, +fountains, flower-beds, cedar freaks,--my God, Perce, I'd hate to come +home a little squiffed if I lived in that house of yours, 'specially at +night. Look at old Pedro and Philippa over there, setting out that stuff +that looks like sparrowgrass. And that prize job of Ed Keller's,--my +God, A. A., what good is a dog kennel on this island? There ain't a dog +inside a thousand miles. The only one we ever had was that poodle old +Mrs. Velasco had, and it died before--” + +“That isn't a kennel, Buck.” + +“It ain't? Well, what is it?” + +“It's a Swiss chalet.” + +“What does Ed Keller know about Swiss chalets?” + +“Nothing,--absolutely nothing, Buck,” admitted Percival forcibly. + +A tall, perfectly straight flagpole graced the extensive “front-yard,” + and from its peak floated the flag of Trigger Island,--a great white +pennon with a red heart in the centre, symbolic of love, courage, +fidelity. But on the tip of Split Mountain the Stars and Stripes still +waves from sunrise to sunset. + +The new cabins are farther up the slope of the mountains, overlooking +what is now called the “old” town. There is something fairy-like in +the picture one sees at night from the Green below. Dozens of lighted +windows gleam softly through the foliage, for all the world like +witches' lamps. The day reveals thin, blue plumes of smoke stealing out +of the tops of the trees to be wafted off into nothingness; they come +from invisible chimneys far down in the leafy fastnesses. Up here are +the huts of the newly married. Almost without exception, they are tiny +affairs, scarcely larger than the metaphorical bandbox. Each contains +two rooms. + +During the very hot weather in January and February, the long, curving +beach is alive with oddly dressed bathers and idlers. This is at midday +only, when the sun is so hot and fierce that all work ceases for two +hours or more. Though the sun is hot, the water is never warm. A dip in +the surf is all that any one save the hardiest cares to take. They loll +on the cool white sands, under improvised shelters made of boughs, +or indulge in spirited games on the long level stretches. This is the +play-hour of the people throughout the hot months of summer. They “knock +off” work of all sorts, and seek relief from the stifling heat of the +woodland in the cool wet sands along the shore. + +The costumes are strange and varied; some are pretty, others almost +ludicrous. Small children appear in a scant breech-cloth; women of all +ages and proportions wear a sort of one-piece “jumper,” arms bare and +legs uncovered up to the knees. The men affect nothing except trunks +made from coffee sacks. The few real bathing-suits belong to such +experienced travellers as Nicklestick, Shine and the Blocks,--regular +and persistent patrons of the hotels at Atlantic City, Palm Beach and +Rockaway. They never travel without a full and complete equipment. Mr. +Nicklestick, very superior in his red two piece “costume,” goes so +far as to contend that a man never should be without a bathing-suit, +because, says he, “it takes up no room in your trunk, and if you leave +it at home some one else is sure to stretch it so's you can't use it +yourself again.” + +Olga Obosky and her three dancing-girls, Careni-Amori, and several +of the Brazilian ladies possess Ostend costumes in which they disport +themselves with complacent disregard for public opinion, favourable or +otherwise. + +“She's got 'em all skinned a mile,” was Morris Shine's comment upon +Olga's lithe, graceful figure. “Ain't that so, Abey?” + +The remark was addressed to Abel Landover. + +“Even so,” returned that gentleman, glaring at the offender, “it doesn't +give you the right to call me Abey. You've got to cut it out, Shine. +Understand?” + +“Sure,” said the affable Morris. “Only I've got a brother named Abraham, +and that was my father's name too. It comes natural to me to--Why, by +gracious, she's got the Venus Belvedere lashed to the mast. Did you ever +see--” + +“I've never had the pleasure of seeing the Venus Belvedere,” interrupted +Landover coldly. + +“You haven't?” exclaimed Morris, amazed. “The armless wonder? You ain't +seen her? Why, she's supposed to have the most perfect figger in the +world. Maybe you've seen her without knowing what her name is. They +never put the name on it, simply because every school boy and girl is +supposed to know who it is without being told. Funny you don't know--Oh, +she ain't alive, you know,--she ain't real. She's a statue,--thousands +of 'em turned out every year. Gee, the feller that designed that statue +must have cleaned up a pile. But, as I was saying, our little old Olga +has got her--Say, did you ever see a figger like that?” + +“Yes,” broke in Landover shortly, “thousands of them.” + +Mr. Shine looked sceptical. “Well,” he said after a moment's reflection, +and with studied politeness,--having already offended at the outset, +“all I got to say is, you talk like a woman, that's all I got to say.” + +Landover was a greatly changed man in these days. There had come a +crisis in the affairs of Trigger Island, not many weeks before the +second annual election in April, when he was obliged to show his true +colours. The banker suddenly realized with a shock that he was actually +involved in a well-organized, though secret plot to overthrow the +so-called “government.” He had been completely deceived by the wily +Manuel Crust and several of his equally wily friends. They professed to +be organizing an opposition party to oust the dictatorial Percival and +his clique from office at the ensuing election,--a feat, they +admitted, that could be accomplished only by the most adroit and covert +“educational” campaign, “under the rose” perforce, but justifiable in +the circumstances. They had led Landover to believe that he was their +choice for governor. They went among the people, insidiously sowing the +seeds of discontent, hinting at the advantages to be obtained by the +election of an entirely new set of officers, mostly from among the +people themselves, but headed by the ablest man on the island,--Abel T. +Landover. They argued that as treasurer and comptroller of currency he +had shown himself to be the only man qualified to direct the affairs of +the people. + +And Landover believed them. Despite his superior intelligence and +his vaunted ability to size up his fellow man, he was as blind and +unsuspecting as a child when it came to penetrating the real motives +of the conspirators. Vain, self-important, possessed of an abnormal +conceit, men of his type go ahead ruthlessly, ignoring the details, bent +only on achieving the ultimate. In Landover's case, he made the fatal +error of underestimating the craftiness of Manuel Crust; he looked upon +him as a blatant, ignorant ruffian of the stripe best known to him as +a “beer saloon politician,”--and known only by hearsay, at that. He +regarded himself as the master-politician and Crust as a contemptible +necessity. + +As a matter of fact, Crust was using him to very materially advance his +own ends. The big Portuguese had a very definite purpose in mind. He had +no more intention of making Landover the chief man of the island than +he had of flying to the moon. He,--Manuel Crust,--was to have that +distinction! He despised Landover and all that he represented. He hated +him because he was rich, educated, favoured by fortune,--and given to +washing himself with unnecessary frequency and thoroughness. Manuel was +foul of body as well as foul at heart. He bitterly resented the sanitary +rules set up and enforced by the Council because those rules interfered +with what he was pleased to call his personal liberty. Why should he be +required to wash himself if he didn't want to do so? And why should he +do a great many silly things that Dr. Cullen ordered, just because a lot +of aristocrats were in the habit of doing them? + +His hatred of Landover, however, was impersonal. The banker merely +represented a class. On the other hand, he hated Percival as an +individual; he hated him with every drop of blood in his black, venomous +heart. He had a certain grudging regard,--it might even be called +respect,--for the class to which Landover belonged; he was sometimes +conscious of a strange but quite positive sense of his own inferiority. +But he did not for an instant put Percival in the class with Landover. +He looked upon the young American as being no better than himself, and +yet the people from the Doraine had showered honours upon him, had made +him their chief, had suffered him,--a vagabond without a penny to his +name,--to marry the fairest and rarest woman of them all. What right had +this interloper to everything that was worth having, while he, an honest +fellow who always had paid his way, was denied even the smallest place +in the councils of the land? What right had he, a tramp, to sit upon a +throne? + +Landover was an unwitting, but thoroughly self-satisfied dupe. He fitted +in very nicely with Manuel's plan to gain control of the island. There +were certain people who regarded the great banker as an apostle, a man +to follow, to be imitated,--such men as Block, Nicklestick and a few +others. Was he not one of the great financial geniuses of the day? Was +he not a power, a tremendous power, in the banking world? Was he not +a man who understood how to transform a dollar into a business block +almost over-night? For a time, sentiment had played tricks with their +boasted astuteness. Swept along by the current, they had failed to +appreciate the true conditions. They began to realize that it had been a +mistake to keep such men as Percival in power; behind the hand they +went about convincing each other that it was high time to rectify the +original error. These, in addition to the ignorant, easily persuaded +rabble from the steerage,--who, by the way, could give ample testimony +as to Percival's ability to “bluff,”--provided Crust with a decidedly +formidable following. The steerage people had but to be reminded of the +time when Percival tricked them so successfully. + +Crust contended that if the American could fool them once, he would do +so again,--in fact, he went so far as to say that he had been doing it +all the time. + +There was nothing open and above board about the methods of Manuel +Crust. He proceeded about the business of fomenting dissatisfaction and +strife with an artfulness surprising in one of his type. At no time did +he openly denounce the “government.” He was very careful about that. +A jesting word here, a derisive smile there, a shrug of the +shoulders,--and in good time others less politic than himself began to +do the talking. Others began to complain of the high-handed, dictatorial +manner in which Percival and his friends ruled the community. + +The secret, stealthy opposition grew apace; it assumed sinister +proportions,--all the more sinister because it was masked by every +outward sign of submission. Crust had won friends right and left among +the very people who would have killed him not so many months before but +for the very man he was planning to destroy. + +Outwardly he had changed,--not subtly, it is true,--from a sullen, +threatening bully into a hearty, smiling, sympathetic comrade who laid +himself out to be obliging. Even Percival was puzzled, if not deceived, +by this surprising transformation. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +It was Olga Obosky who discovered and exposed the plot. A young Spaniard +had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with her. He was a good-looking, +hard-eyed boy from the pampas,--a herder who was on his way to visit his +mother in from Rio. He was a “gun-slinger” bearing close relationship to +the type of cowboy that existed in the old days of the Far West but who +is now extinct save for pictorial perpetuation on the moving-picture +screens. + +Down in his wild young heart smouldered a furious jealousy of Percival. +Crust played upon this jealousy to fine effect. He did not hesitate +to feed the flame with sly speculations, innuendos and even tales +concerning Percival and Olga. + +One day the Spaniard, in the midst of his violent protestations and +pleadings, became reckless with promises to Olga. He swore that if she +would have him he would make her the first lady of the land in place of +the stupid American girl who now held the honour. Then, having loosed +his tongue, he poured out the whole of the ugly scheme which was to +alter every existing condition on the island. The wiping out of the +dictator and his swell-headed gang of “intellectuals”; the seizure of +all firearms, ammunition and stores; the complete subjugation of the +people, even to the point of slavery; the elevation of Manuel Crust +and his followers to a state of absolute power; the confiscation of all +property,--including women! He naively advised her to jump at the chance +offered her,--the chance to avoid the most unpleasant feature of the new +regime. + +“As my woman,” he said, “you will be safe. It is understood. It is all +arranged. If you belong to me, nothing can happen to you. We shall be +of the elect. I am to be of the council. I am to be one of the masters, +the--” + +“But,” she cried, scarcely able to believe her ears, “how is all this to +be accomplished? How will the few overcome the many? You say there are +scarcely more than a dozen of you, my friend. What can a dozen men do +to--” + +“It will be simple,” cried he, his eyes flaming. “How is it that +Percival and his little gang hold all of us in bondage? It is because +they have the guns, the revolvers, the bullets. Well, we shall have the +guns, and everything. When the time comes, when the people have voted +in the election and a new party is in control, then we will have our +chance. We will have the upper hand. To hell with the people, Olga. They +will count for nothing once we have charge of the guns and stores. This +Percival he has ordered the election. He insists that the people be +given a chance to vote once a year, to elect some one to take his place +if they feel like it. He says it is only fair. Faugh! He laughs in his +sleeve. Come! Your promise! I love you. I must have you for my woman. +I cannot live without you. I will give you power to spit in the face +of that woman down there--that American aristocrat! We will be rich, we +will be happy, we will have everything. Diamonds and pearls and rubies +and all the gold there is on this island. We will be the ones to go away +in the ship, and we will have jewels to shame the richest of them.” + +“We--you and Manuel and the rest--are to go away in the ship?” she +cried, cold to the marrow of her bones. + +“Sure. Why not? Are we not to be the owners of that ship? It is your +chance to go back to the world again,--with me! Oh, and I agree to this +also: If you do not want me any longer after you are in Rio or Buenos +Aires or anywhere out there,--if you would rather be free again,--I +promise to release you. What could be fairer than that? Nothing! I shall +kill myself, of course, when you leave me,--but still I promise, and I +never break a promise. But I shall love you so much that you will never +leave me. You are my queen. Hell, how I love you--how I love you!” His +face darkened, then slowly paled. He realized that he had gone too far. +Leaning close to her, his frightened eyes not a foot from hers, he said: +“You cannot deny me now. I have told you everything. I do not know why +I have told you. I must be crazy with love of you. Ah,--the look in your +beautiful eyes! God, how it takes the weight off my mind. You will love +me,--you will be mine,--I see it in your eyes. When? When?” + +She affected a bantering smile. She knew how to play with such fools as +he. + +“Do you think I am a fool? How do I know you are not lying to me about +all this? It may be a trick to influence me. No, no! I am not such a +simpleton. You promise me diamonds, and gold, and much love. You promise +to take me away from this dreadful place on a ship, back to the world +I worship. But you may be lying. I must have something better than your +word, my friend.” + +“But I am telling you the truth. I swear it!” he cried eagerly. + +“Keep your hands off of me,--do you hear! Don't touch me! Not yet, not +yet. I must have some proof that you can give me all these things you +offer. Will you have Manuel Crust guarantee that--” + +“My God,--Manuel,--he must not know I have spoken to you. He must never +know,” he gasped. “Take my word,--believe me, beloved one. It is +the God's truth I tell you. Within the month I will lay diamonds, +pearls,--everything,--at your feet. I--” + +“Leave me now. Come again,--tomorrow. I must think. I must--” + +“But you will love me? You will come to me? You--” + +“You are a very handsome boy,” she said softly, “and I should like to +believe you.” + +He followed her for a few steps, trouble in his eyes. + +“It is not enough. I must have your promise,” he said. + +She looked at him coldly. “You will have it when I am ready to give it,” + she said, and his face lightened for a moment, only to darken again. + +“I will cut your heart out if you breathe a word of this to any one,” he +whispered hoarsely. + +“Is that the way for a lover to speak?” she returned. + +“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “It is the way,--with me.” + +“Come to me tomorrow and tell me exactly what my share of the treasure +is to be,--and then I will let you know whether it is to be you--or +Manuel Crust, my friend. Oh, you see, I am greedy,--and I can love +Manuel quite as easily as I can love--” + +“I will cut his heart out if you--” + +“There--there! It will not be necessary. Come tomorrow.” + +That same afternoon she went to Percival with the Spaniard's story. + +“Well, we'll nip that in the bud,” said he, setting his jaw. “The first +thing to do is to warn Landover.” + +“Warn Landover!” cried the Russian. “He is all mix up in it,--he is one +of ze ringleaders.” + +“No, he isn't. He's not that kind of a man. He doesn't know a thing +about all this, I'll stake my life on it.” + +“But, Olga,” cried Ruth, white-faced and troubled; “Fernandez will kill +you. He will,--Good heaven, girl, did he not swear to cut your heart out +if you--” + +“Poof!” cried the other, snapping her fingers. “He will not do zat, +my dear. I am not afraid. Do you know what happens to informers in my +country? They vanish. No one ever sees them again, and no one ever asks +where they have gone. They are here today--tomorrow they are not. It is +the same the world over.” + +“You mean,--Manuel's men will make way with him? How horrible!” + +“Do not waste your sympathy on zat Fernandez. He is no good. You would +see what kind of man he is if this plot should succeed.” + +“But you will have to give him your answer tomorrow,” cried Ruth. + +Olga shot a keen glance at Percival's face. + +“It is for you to say, Percivail, what my answer shall be,” said she, +after, a slight pause. A queer pallor spread over her face. + +“For me to say?” he exclaimed. + +“Are you not the governor? If it suits your plans for me to give myself +to zat man--” + +“My God, Olga! What the devil are you driving at?” + +“--to satisfy him until you are prepared to nip zis revolution in the +bud, as you say,--I shall--” + +“Thunderation!” he gasped. “You mean you would sacrifice yourself--Great +Scot! What do you think I'm expecting to do? Go to sleep for a month or +so? Bless your heart, my dear Olga, if you are even thinking of getting +married to Fernandez, you'll have to be pretty spry about it. Because +I'm going to nip the business in the bud before tomorrow morning.” + +“Zat is what I thought,” said she, the colour rushing back to her face. + +That evening Percival called a meeting of the “cabinet,”--as the council +was now called. They were asked to come to his home, instead of to the +meetinghouse. This, of itself, was surprising. Landover had never set +foot inside the “governor's mansion.” While his attitude toward the +“governor's lady” was studiedly courteous, he made no effort to resume +the intimate and friendly relationship that existed before her marriage +to his enemy. Contact with Percival was unavoidable. They met frequently +in “cabinet” conferences, but avoided each other at all other times. + +He came to this hastily called meeting, however, and Percival was the +only man present who was not dumbfounded. Sheriff Shay, in summoning the +members to this secret meeting, had delivered a message that Landover +could not well afford to ignore. + +Seventeen men were crowded into the little sitting-room of the house. +Each one of them bore a high-sounding title. There were present, besides +Percival, State Treasurer Landover, Chief Justice Malone, Minister of +War Platt, Minister of Marine Mott, Minister of Agriculture Pedro Drom, +State Clerk Flattner, Surgeon General Cullen, Lord High Sheriff Shay, +and the following members of the Executive Council: Snipe, Block, +Jones, Fitts, Knapendyke, Calkins, Ruiz' and Alvara. Ruiz was a Chilean +merchant and Alvara a Brazilian coffee grower. Calkins was an English +cattle buyer. + +Percival, with his customary abruptness, announced that there was a plot +on foot to destroy the present government and turn the island over to +the mercy of a gang of desperadoes headed by Manuel Crust. + +Landover was on his feet in an instant. + +“I am in a position, gentlemen, to declare that there is not a word of +truth in that statement. It is true there is a very definite movement on +foot to organize a new party to contest the election of many of us +who are gathered here tonight. The people want a change. They are +dissatisfied. They have a right to vote as they please, to choose their +own--” + +“We are not here to discuss the election, Mr. Landover,” broke in +Percival. “Before we go any farther, however, I wish to state that if +you are chosen Governor of Trigger Island, you will find no one more +willing and ready to serve you than I. But, that is beside the question. +If you will listen to me, I will tell you exactly what it is that +confronts us. The election next month is to be the signal for all kinds +of hell. You may be elected governor, Mr. Landover,--but you will not be +allowed to serve. Now, here is the story that came to me today,--and I +can vouch for it. I am authorized,--in fact I am commanded to reveal to +you the name of my informant. You may be sure I did my best to +prevail upon her to remain unknown, for the present, at least, but she +threatened to go forth and shout her story from the housetops if I did +not do as she wished.” + +The conference ended an hour later, and Abel Landover had shown his +true colours at last. He stood up, his face drawn and haggard, his eyes +ablaze, his voice husky, and addressed the group. + +“Gentlemen, I have been wrong. I am grateful to Mr. Percival for his +generosity in warning me of the danger into which I was rushing. We have +not been friends. He could have left me to my fate. I would not have +blamed him. He has played fair,--and I have not. I ask you all to +bear witness to that humiliating admission. I have argued here tonight +against all of you,--when down in my heart I had the sickening fear +that this damnable story is true. I now believe it to be true. I now see +through the whole devilish game. + +“I give you my word of honour as a gentleman and an American, I did not +realize the true conditions until tonight. Perhaps I might have found +out in time to upset their plans,--but that is doubtful. These men +are smart. They are natural born plotters. They are dark men with dark +souls. This fellow Fernandez has fooled me completely. He is a gay, +smiling boy, but now that I have heard Madame Obosky's account of him, I +recall many little traits in his make-up that go far to substantiate my +new opinion of him. I never quite understood till now why he hated you, +Percival. Frankly, I knew that he had it in his heart to kill you. Crust +has told me of his difficulty in keeping him from running a knife into +you. I thought it was all talk, boyish bravado,--but now I know he meant +it.” + +He lifted his head and set his jaw. “Gentlemen, I have a shameful +confession to make. Ever since I can remember, my sole thought has been +to rule. I did not know what it was to take orders from another man +until I came to this island. My whole being has been in revolt. The +thought uppermost in my mind for two years has been to re-establish +myself as a dominating force. To that end, I have played pretty bad +politics. I have worked upon the credulity and cupidity of these men, +promising them positions of authority if I were chosen by vote to govern +the affairs of this island. But, I am sure you all will believe me +when I say that it was my purpose to administer those affairs honestly, +fairly and as capably as I knew how. I was not only deceived by these +men, but by myself as well. I have played, like a blundering fool, into +their hands. My chagrin is beyond words. I can only say to you now that +you may count upon my unfailing support in any action you may decide to +take. My forebears were honest, loyal, law-abiding Americans. I--I think +I may say without fear of contradiction that it is impossible for me to +run otherwise than true to form. + +“I lied, Percival, to Ruth Clinton about the encounter in my stateroom +on the Doraine. Believe me or not as you see fit, but I think that was +the only deliberate lie I have ever told in my life. I have done a great +many high-handed things, I have been inconsiderate of others, I have +crushed opposition in my own way, I have never allowed myself to +acknowledge defeat. My hand has been against you since the day you +appeared on the decks of the Doraine. It was not in my nature to see +good in you. To me, you were a good-for-nothing--Well, I'm glad to see +you smile! That is the devil with you,--your confounded smile. I ask you +to overlook what I have said, and done--and been, Percival,--and shake +hands. You have nothing to apologize for. There never has been a time +in all these months that I have not felt you to be a real man, an +honest one, and a gentleman. I think I know an honest man when I see +one,--indeed, it is my business to read men,--and I rarely make a +mistake.” + +As the two men shook hands, Randolph Fitts remarked drily: + +“Seems to me I remember your saying something of the sort the first day +you ever laid eyes on A. A., Abel.” + +“The trouble is,” put in Soapy Shay sarcastically, “you don't know a +dishonest one when you see him, Bill.” + +“Veil, let's get down to business,” said Moses Block nervously. “Ve +must go slow and careful-like. If we show our hands too soon, they will +uprise and--veil, I don't know vat!” + +“Mr. Mott, what would you do if you got wind of a plot like this aboard +ship?” inquired Percival, his eyes narrowing. + +“I would have the whole gang in chains before morning. Then I'd give +'em a taste of the 'cat' at daybreak, and before noon I'd have the +ringleaders hanging from a yard-arm,” said Andrew Mott, succinctly. + +“Oh, my gracious!” gulped Mr. Block. + +“Now, I'll tell you what would happen up in Copperhead Camp,” said +Percival, darkly. “They would get a beautiful cow-hiding and then +sentenced to wear a ball and chain, day and night, for anywhere from six +months to two years,--depending largely on the process of regeneration. +My experience has been that six months is enough.” + +“We wouldn't dare do that, A. A.,” said Fitts. “You must not forget +public sentiment,--and public pity. I've got a better plan. How far out +is that little island off New Gibraltar, Platt?” + +“A quarter of a mile, I should say.” + +“Well, if they're not satisfied with life and conditions here, let's +make 'em a present of a nice little island of their own. That's what +I've always advocated as the proper way to treat anarchists. Stick 'em +away on an island completely surrounded by sharks and let 'em run it to +suit themselves.” + +“But there are no sharks in these waters,” said Flattner. “They'd swim +over here some night and slit all our throats.” + +“Not a chance. They hate water too much to have ever learned how to +swim. Now, here's the scheme. Round up as many of them as we're dead +sure about, row 'em out to the island, dump 'em with enough food and +water to last a week, supply them with tents and beds and tools, and let +'em build their own penitentiary. They'll have to do it or freeze next +winter. Once a week send food and drink out to them. The water is a +hundred fathoms deep between Trigger Island and that little green wart +out there on the face of the ocean. It will look like a million miles to +them. How does it strike you, gentlemen?” + +Off the precipitous western extremity of Trigger Island lies a tiny +scrap of tree-covered land. It is perhaps one hundred yards wide and +thrice as long. An exploring party had visited it shortly after the +wreck of the Doraine, but since then no one had set foot upon its +shores. Its steep slopes, densely wooded, viewed from afar, suggested a +mountain top sticking up out of the sea. By boat, skirting the coast, it +was a good ten miles distant from the town. + +Three men were seized that night and put through a rigid examination. +Early the next morning twelve more were taken, Manuel Crust among them. +Half of them, in their terror, “squealed.” Crust himself was one of +these. Almost before the people of the town knew what was afoot, the +fifteen had been tried, convicted, and were on their way to the landing +where boats were waiting to take them and their belongings off into +exile. As for the conspirators themselves, the blow was so swift, so +sudden, that they were dazed. It was like a bolt out of a clear sky. + +Judge Malone sent them to “the Island” for indeterminate periods. At +stated intervals they were to be released, one by one, and restored +to citizenship. The shortest term of exile, however, was one year. The +releases were to be decided by lot, except in the case of three +men: Crust, Fernandez and an Irish sailor named Clark. They were the +ringleaders and they were to remain on “the Island” until the time came +for them to go aboard the relief ship with all the other citizens of +Trigger. At the end of the first year, and once a month thereafter for +twelve months, drawings were to be held, and the man whose name was +drawn would be released. + +“You are prisoners of state,” said Judge Malone, in passing sentence. +“The state is obliged to feed you, and clothe you, and sustain you if +you fall ill, no matter how bitterly it goes against the grain. You will +not be obliged to work, or wash, or observe a single law. You may rob +each other to your hearts' content, you may murder each other with +perfect impunity, you may do just as you like. We started out to conduct +the affairs of this island along lines laid down by the Golden Rule. I +have come to the conclusion that the Golden Rule would be all right if +it were not for the human race. I am beginning to believe that the Rule +of Iron is the only one for the people of this earth to live under,--and +that is a pretty hard thing for an Irishman to say. You men ought to be +lined up against a wall and shot. We do not feel that we have the right +to take your lives. It is not in our hearts to destroy you, as you would +have destroyed us. But you may not dwell among us.” + +Fernandez, wild with fury, shrieked vengeance upon the head of Olga +Obosky. Out of his ravings, the unsavoury crew gleaned enough to +convince them that he was responsible for their present unhappy plight. + +“You will pay for this, you snake!” he yelled, foaming at the mouth and +shaking his fist at her. “I will drink your heart's blood! Remember what +Joe Fernandez says. I will come back here and get you,--Oh, I will get +you,--and when I am through with you your dog of a lover may have what +is left. I will cut you to pieces! I swear it--I swear it! Hear my oath! +You double-crossed me! You squealed on me! I will come back, and I will +drink your heart's blood! I swear it!” + +He spat in her direction as he was dragged away with the rest of the +gang. Through his glittering, bloodshot eyes he saw the cool, derisive +sneer on her red lips. He had failed, however, to note the keen, +appraising look with which she searched the faces of his baffled, +glowering companions. In that long, tense look she had seen dawning +comprehension change to conviction; she had read his doom, so she +could, in perfect security, give him that scoffing, heartless smile to +take with him on the journey from which he was never to return. + +Fifteen men went out to “the Island” that afternoon. From that day, the +authorities provided weekly rations for that number of men. To this +day they are ignorant of the fact that there are but fourteen mouths to +feed. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +In the cool of a balmy January evening, following what had been the +hottest day the castaways had experienced since coming to Trigger +Island, a group of men and women sat upon the Governor's porch. There +was no moon, but the sky was speckled with millions of stars. + +Olga Obosky, sitting on the squared log that served as a step, leaned +back against the awning post, her legs stretched out in luxurious +abandon. She was fanning herself, and her breath came rapidly, +pantingly. Now and then she patted her moist face with a handkerchief. + +“How warm you are, Olga,” said Ruth, who sat beside her. “And you must +be dreadfully tired.” + +“I am hot, but I am not tired,” replied the other. “I could dance all +night, my dear, without tiring. Did you really like the children, Ruth?” + +“They were lovely. You have done wonders with them.” + +“Regular Isadora Duncan stuff,” sighed Peter Snipe, drawing lazily at +his pipe. “Woodland nymphs, phantom pixies floating on the wind, zephyrs +in the guise of fairies, dreams come true,--my dear Olga, you are a +sorceress. You change clods into moonbeams, you turn human beings into +vapours, you cast the mantle of enchantment over the midsummer night, +and we see Oberon, Titania and all the rest of them disporting on the +breeze. And to think that only this afternoon I saw all of those gawky +girls working in the fields, their legs the colour of tan bark, with +sandals that looked like canal-boats, skirts made of hemp,--just regular +kids. And you transform them tonight into gleaming cloudlets to float +upon the ambient atmosphere--” + +“For heaven's sake, Pete, stop being an author and talk like a real +man,” interrupted Fitts. “Can't you say, 'Gee, they was great, Olger'?” + +It was “Twelfth Night,” and Olga's pupils had given a fairy dance on +the Green. To conclude the almost mystic entertainment, the great Obosky +herself had appeared in one of her most marvellous creations,--the +“Dance of the Caliph's Dream,”--the sensational, never-to-be-forgotten +dance that had been the talk of three continents. There was no spotlight +to follow her sinuous, scantily clad figure as it spun and leaped and +glided about the dim, starlit Green; there was no blare of brass and +cymbals, nor the haunting wail of flageolets,--only the tinkle of +mandolins and Spanish guitars to guide her bewildering feet,--and yet +she had never been so alluring. + +When it was all over,--when the charmed circle of faces had vanished +into the byways of the night,--she came and flung herself down upon +the steps of the Governor's mansion. She had wrapped her warm body in a +sheath of yellow velvet; the tips of her bare feet were exposed to the +grateful night air. Her uplifted eyes shone like the stars that looked +down into them; her lips were parted in a smile; her flesh quivered with +the physical ecstasy that comes only with supreme lassitude. + +“You never danced so beautifully in your life, Olga,” said Careni-Amori. +“And after two years, too. I cannot understand. I shall never sing again +as I sang two years ago. But you,--ah, you dance even better. I take +courage from you. Perhaps my voice has not gone to seed as Joseppi's +has,--poor man. Not that it had very far to go,--but still it was second +only to Caruso's, and that is something. How can it be that you improve +with idleness, while I--while we go the other way?” + +“I shall never dance like zat again,” replied Olga, her eyes clouding. + +“You speak as if it were your swan dance,” cried Michael Malone. + +“Oh, I shall dance for ever,” said she, “but never again like zat. You +would ask why not. I cannot tell you. I do not know. Only can I say I +shall never dance like zat again,--never.” + +Ruth turned her head quickly to look at the woman beside her. Olga's +face gleamed white in the starlight. Her eyes were still searching the +speckled dome, and the smile had left her lips. + +“Don't say that, Olga,” she whispered softly. “You will delight great +audiences again,--you will charm--” + +“Possibly,” interrupted the other, lowering her voice, turning her eyes +upon Ruth, and smiling mysteriously. “Great audiences, yes,--but what +are they? I appeared tonight before an audience of one. I danced as I +have never danced before,--all for zat audience of one. Your husband, my +dear. He one time informs me he has never seen me dance. Well,--tonight +I dance for him. Now, he can say he have seen Obosky dance. He will +never forget zat he have seen Obosky dance.” + +Ruth laughed, but it was a strained effort. “He was positively +enchanted, Olga,” she said. Then she added: “But for goodness' sake, +don't ever let him know that you did it all for him. He will be so proud +and important that--” + +“Oh, he knows I danced for him,” broke in the Russian calmly, in a most +matter-of-fact tone. + +“You--you told him?” + +“I did not have to tell him. He knew, without being told. La la, my +dear! Do not look so shocked. It is a habit I have. Always I dance for +one person in my audience. I pick him out,--sometimes it is a she,--and +zen I try only to please zat one person. I make him to feel he is the +one I am dancing for, zat he is all alone in the great big hall,--all +alone with me. Maybe he is in the gallery, looking down; maybe he is in +a box, or standing up at the back of the house,--no matter where he is, +I pick him out and so I think of no one else all ze time I dance.” + +“And, by the same token, he is powerless to think of any one else. I +see. No wonder you charm them out of their boots.” + +“And all the rest of his life he will remember that I danced for him +alone, zat man. As for me,--poof! I would not recognize him again if he +came to see me a thousand nights in succession. Once I saw a very tiny +boy in the stalls. He was with his mother and father. I danced for zat +child of six. When he is a very, very old man he will look back over +the years and see me dancing still,--always the same whirling, dazzling +thing that filled his little eyes and soul with wonder. So! Percivail +has seen me at my best. He will tell his grandchildren how wonderful +Obosky was,--and he will think of her to his dying day as something +beautiful, not something vile.” + +“Oh, Olga!” + +“You see, my dear,” said the other, composedly, “I wanted to make a good +impression on zat virtuous husband of jours. Now he will think of me as +the artist, not as the woman. It is much better so, is it not?” + +“Sometimes you say things that cause me to wonder why I don't hate you, +Olga Obosky,” cried Ruth under her breath. + +Olga laughed softly. “I repeat zat Golden Rule to myself every night and +every morning, Ruthkin,” said she, somewhat cryptically. Then they were +silent. + +Conversation on the porch behind them lagged and finally ceased +altogether. The soft swish of fans was the only sound to disturb the +tranquil stillness. + +“Nineteen-twenty,” fell dreamily from the lips of Randolph Fitts's wife. +“I used to think of Nineteen-twenty as being so far in the future that +I would be an old, old woman when I came to it. And here it is,--I am +living in it,--and I am not old.” + +“Presidential year,” said Michael Malone, as he struck a match to +relight the pipe that had gone out. “Doesn't take them long to slip +around, does it? Seems only last week that I voted for Wilson. I wonder +if he'll be running again.” + +“Sure! And if he can keep us in the war as long as he kept us out of +it,” said Peter Snipe, “we'll have to elect him again.” + +“I'd give a lot to know whether we've got the Germans licked or not,” + mused Fitts. “We've had nearly three years to do it in.” + +“Depends entirely on the navy,” said Platt, Minister of Marine, late of +the U. S. Navy. + +“What can the navy do if the Germans will not come out?” demanded +Landover. + +“Why, confound it all, the navy can go in, can't it?” + +“The British Navy hasn't,” was Landover's reply. + +“What's the use of speculating about the war?” said Percival, as he +threw himself on the grass at Ruth's feet. “Either it's over or it +isn't, and here we sit absolutely in the dark. They might as well be +fighting on Mars as over in Europe, so far as we are concerned. For +God's sake, let's not even think about the war. We'll all go crazy if we +do.” + +“You're right,” said Fitts, gloomily. + +“In any case,” said Malone, “Trigger Island has done all that any +self-respecting government can do. She has declared war on Germany. We +have nothing to be ashamed of. Still, I'd feel better if we could fire a +few shots at the dirty blackguards.” + +“The war is over,” said Olga, staring up at the stars. “The Germans are +beaten. I have said so for many months, have I not?” + +“You have,” agreed Malone. “But I don't see that you have anything on +the Kaiser. He said it was over in 1914.” + +“'Don't argue with him, Olga,” said young Mrs. Malone. “He's Irish.” + +“Like all Irishers he's longing for something he'll never get,” said +Fitts, drily. + +“And what is that?” inquired Mrs. Malone. + +“Home-rule,” said Fitts. + +Olga Obosky yawned luxuriously. “I am so sleepy. My sandals, Governor +Percivail. I am going home.” + +He picked up the sandals lying on the grass beside him and held them out +to her. She coolly extended one of her feet. + +“It cannot bite you. Put zem on for me, your Excellency.” + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +He knelt and, slipping the sandals on one after the other, fastened the +straps over her bare insteps. + +“So,” she sighed. “Thank you. Good night, Ruthkin. No! I shall go home +alone. There is nothing to be afraid of now on zis island, my dear. The +ardent Fernandez is playing--what you call it?--pea-knuckles?--he is +playing pea-knuckles away off yonder on zat prison island, as he has +been playing for nearly a year.” + +Little she knew of Fernandez! + +Ruth and Percival walked around the corner of the porch with her, out of +sight of the others. + +“It was a perfectly ravishing dance, Olga,” said he. “If I live a +thousand years I shall never forget how beautiful it was.” + +“You see?” cried Olga softly, pressing Ruth's hand. “Was I not right?” + +“Men are very queer things,” said Ruth, with a curious sidelong glance +at her husband. Then she squeezed his arm tightly and went on with +a little thrill in her voice: “Good night, Olga. Thank you for the +lesson.” + +“What's all this?” inquired Percival. + +“Nothing you would be interested in, my friend,” said Olga, with a +little laugh. She waved her hand airily as she moved swiftly away in the +gloom. + +They watched her yellow figure fade into the starlit shadows. As they +turned to rejoin the others, Ruth said: + +“I think you might have told her how beautiful she was, dear.” So much +for the native perversity of woman, even when she is most content. + +He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon the soft, warm +palm. It was a habit of his,--and she never failed to shiver in response +to the exquisite thrill. She drew a deep breath, and leaned a little +closer to him. + +“Look up yonder, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you see the one star in +all the heavens that shines the brightest? It is the only one I see when +I raise my eyes. The big, full star in the Southern Cross. The others +are dim, feeble little things preening themselves in reflected glory. +That great, beautiful star at the foot of the Cross is all that I can +see. It's no use for me to look elsewhere. That star fills my vision. +Its splendour fascinates me.” + +She waited for him to go on. Her eyes were shining. But the analogy was +complete. She laid her cheek against his and sighed tremulously. After a +moment, they turned their heads and their lips met in a long, passionate +kiss. + +“I should be content to stay on this dear little island for ever, +sweetheart,” she murmured. “My whole world is here.” + +He stroked her hair lovingly, and was silent for a long time. Then he +smiled his whimsical smile. + +“It's all right for you and me, dear,--but how about the future +President of the United States sleeping up there in his crib?” + +She smiled up into his eyes. “It's a nuisance, isn't it?--having to stop +and consider that we are parents as well as lovers.” + +They rejoined the group on the porch. + +“I had a horrible dream last night,” said Peter Snipe, getting up and +stretching himself. “That's why I'm staying up so late tonight. I hate +to go to bed.” + +“What was your dream, Peter?” asked Ruth. + +“Do you believe in 'em?” + +“Only in day-dreams.” + +“Well, I dreamed our little old ship was finished and had sailed at last +and for once our wireless plant up there began to get messages from the +sea. I dreamed I was sitting up there with the operator. It was a dark, +stormy night. The wireless began to crackle. He jumped up to see what +was coming. He was getting messages from our own ship, away out there +on the ocean. She was calling for help. 'Sinking fast,--sinking +fast,--sinking fast.' Over and over again,--just those two words. +'Gad,--it was so real, so terribly real, that the first thing I did this +morning was to walk down to see if the boat was still on the stocks. She +was there, a long way from being finished, and--and, by gad, I had hard +work to keep from blubbering, I was so relieved.” + +“It will take more than a dream to knock that ship to pieces,” said +Percival. “When she's ready for the water, there will not be a sturdier +craft afloat. Andrew Mott says she'll weather anything outside of the +China Sea. Don't look so distressed, Amy. Pete's a novelist. They never +do anything but dream horrible dreams. Generally they go so far as +to put them into print, and people read 'em and say they are wildly +improbable,--especially if they have a happy ending. It's always the +happy ending that makes them improbable,--but popular. Isn't that so, +Pete?” + +“If we didn't give them a happy ending, they would refuse to recognize +us the next time they saw us on a bookseller's counter,” said Peter. +“Well, I guess I'll be on my way. I've got a busy day tomorrow, setting +up the Trigger Island Pioneer,--and as I belong to that almost extinct +species known as the bachelor, I am forced to be my own alarm clock. +Going my way, Abel?” + +“Good night, Ruth,” said Landover. “Give the Lieutenant Governor a good +smack for me,--and tell him he is still in my will.” + +“Umph!” grunted Fitts. “I'd like to know what you've got to leave the +little beggar. Your letter of credit?” + +“Certainly not,” replied Landover. “Something worth while, Fittsy, my +boy. I am making it now. It's going to be a hobby-horse, if I live long +enough to finish it. Good night, Perce. 'Night, everybody.” + +When the last of the company had departed, Ruth and Percival stood for +a long time in silence, listening to the far-off thrumming of a Spanish +guitar, their tranquil gaze fixed on the murky shadow that marked the +line of trees along the shore, her head resting lightly against his +shoulder, his arm about her waist. + +“What are you thinking of, dear?” she asked at last. + +“Peter's dream,” he replied. “It has put an idea into my head. The day +that ship down there sails out to sea with her courageous little crew, I +shall start laying the keel for another just like her.” + +Neither spoke for many seconds. Then she said, a deep, solemn note in +her voice: “I understand, Perce.” + +They went into the house. Later they stole tiptoe to the side of the +crib where slept the sturdy, sun-kissed babe. The two middle fingers of +a chubby hand were in his mouth. With one hand Percival shaded the +pitch candle he had brought from the kitchen. She leaned over and gently +touched the smooth, warm cheek. + +“I--I can't believe he is real, Perce,” she whispered. + +“He isn't,” whispered he. “He is something out of a fairy story. Nothing +as wonderful as he is can possibly be real.” + +THE END + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's West Wind Drift, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEST WIND DRIFT *** + +***** This file should be named 6014-0.txt or 6014-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/6014/ + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + +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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/6014-0.zip b/6014-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2218bfe --- /dev/null +++ b/6014-0.zip diff --git a/6014-h.zip b/6014-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a17c60 --- /dev/null +++ b/6014-h.zip diff --git a/6014-h/6014-h.htm b/6014-h/6014-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d21718 --- /dev/null +++ b/6014-h/6014-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13854 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!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" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + West Wind Drift, by George Barr McCutcheon + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of West Wind Drift, by George Barr McCutcheon + +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: West Wind Drift + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Release Date: March 26, 2009 [EBook #6014] +Last Updated: March 12, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEST WIND DRIFT *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + WEST WIND DRIFT + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By George Barr McCutcheon + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + On a bright, still morning in October, the Doraine sailed from a South + American port and turned her glistening nose to the northeast. All told, + there were some seven hundred and fifty souls on board; and there were + stores that filled her holds from end to end,—grain, foodstuffs, + metals, chemicals, rubber and certain sinister things of war. Her + passenger list contained the names of men who had achieved distinction in + world affairs,—in finance, in business, in diplomacy, in war, + besides that less subtle pursuit, adventure: men from both hemispheres, + from all continents. It was a cosmopolitan company that sailed out to sea + that placid day, bound for a port six thousand miles away. + </p> + <p> + Her departure, heavy-laden, from this South American port was properly + recorded in the then secret annals of a great nation; the world at large, + however, was none the wiser. For those were the days when sly undersea + monsters of German descent were prowling about the oceans, taking toll of + humanity and breeding the curse that was to abide with their progenitors + forever. + </p> + <p> + Down through the estuary and into the spreading bay slid the big steamer; + abreast the curving coast-line she drove her way for leagues and leagues, + and then swept boldly into the vast Atlantic desert. + </p> + <p> + Four hundred years ago and more, Amerigo Vespucci had sailed this unknown + southern sea in his doughty caravel; he had wallowed and rocked for months + over a course that the Doraine was asked to cover in the wink of an eye by + comparison. Up from the south he had come in an age when the seas he + sailed were no less strange than the land he touched from time to time; + the blue waste of sky and sea as boundless then as now; the west wind + drift as sure and unfailing; the waves as savage or as mild; the star by + which he laid his course as far away and immutable,—but he came in + 1501 and his ship was alone in the trackless ocean. + </p> + <p> + The mighty Doraine was not alone; she sailed a sea whose every foot was + charted, whose every depth was sounded. She sailed in an age of Titans, + while the caravel was a frolicksome pygmy, dancing to the music of a + thousand winds, buffeted today, becalmed tomorrow, but always a snail on + the face of the waters. Four hundred years ago Vespucci and his men were + lost in the wilderness of waves. Out of touch with the world were they for + months,—aye, even years,—and no man knew whither they sailed + nor whence they came, for those were the days when the seven seas kept + their secrets better than they keep them now. + </p> + <p> + Into the path traversed by the lowly caravel steamed the towering Doraine, + pointing her gleaming nose to the north and east. + </p> + <p> + She was never seen again. + </p> + <p> + Out from the lairs of the great American navy sped the swiftest hounds of + the ocean. They swept the face of the waters with a thousand sleepless + eyes; they called with the strange, mysterious voice that carries a + thousand miles; they raked the sea as with a fine-tooth comb; they + searched the coast of a continent; they penetrated its rivers, circled its + islands, scanned its rocks and reefs,—and asked a single question + that had but one reply from every ship that sailed the southern sea. + </p> + <p> + For months ships of all nations searched for the missing steamer. Not so + much as the smallest piece of wreckage rewarded the ceaseless quest. The + great vessel, with all its precious cargo, had slipped into its niche + among the profoundest mysteries of the sea. Came the day, therefore, when + the Secretary of the Navy wrote down against her name the ugly sentence: + “Lost with all on board.” + </p> + <p> + Maritime courts issued their decrees; legatees parcelled estates, great + and small; insurance companies paid in hard cash for the lives that were + lost, and went blandly about their business; more than one widow + reconsidered her thoughts of self-denial; and ships again sailed the + course of Amerigo Vespucci without a thought of the Doraine. + </p> + <p> + For months the newspapers in many lands speculated on the fate of the + missing liner. That a great ship could disappear from the face of the + waters in these supreme days of navigation without leaving so much as a + trace behind was inconceivable. At first there were tales of the dastardly + U-boats; then came the sinister reports of treachery on board resulting in + the ship being taken over by German plotters, with the prediction that she + would emerge from oblivion as a well-armed “raider” cruising in the North + Atlantic; then the generally accepted theory that she had been swiftly, + suddenly rent asunder by a mighty explosion in her hold. All opinions, all + theories, all conjectures, however, revolved about a single fear;—that + she was the victim of a German plot. But in the course of events there + came a day when the German Navy, ever boastful of its ignoble deeds, + issued the positive and no doubt sincere declaration that it had no record + of the sinking of the Doraine. The fate of the ship was as much of a + mystery to the German admiralty as it was to the rest of the puzzled + world. + </p> + <p> + And so it was that the Doraine, laden with nearly a thousand souls, sailed + out into the broad Atlantic and was never heard from again. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK ONE</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> <b>BOOK TWO</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> <b>BOOK THREE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + BOOK ONE. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + The Captain of the liner was an old man. He had sailed the seas for + two-score years, at least half of them as master. At the outbreak of the + Great War he was given command of the Doraine, relieving a younger man for + more drastic duty in the North Sea. He was an Englishman, and his name, + Weatherby Trigger, may be quite readily located on the list of retired + naval officers in the British Admiralty offices if one cares to go to the + trouble to look it up. + </p> + <p> + After two years the Doraine, with certain other vessels involved in a + well-known and somewhat thoroughly debated transaction, became to all + intents and purposes the property of the United States of America; she + flew the American flag, carried an American guncrew and American papers, + and, with some difficulty, an English master. The Captain was making his + last voyage as master of the ship. An American captain was to succeed him + as soon as the Doraine reached its destination in the United States. + Captain Trigger, a little past seventy, had sailed for nearly two years + under the American flag at a time when all Englishmen were looking askance + at it and wondering if it was ever to take its proper place among the + righteous banners of the world. It had taken its place among them, and the + “old man” was happy. + </p> + <p> + His crew of one hundred and fifty was what might be aptly described as + international. The few Englishmen he had on board were noticeably unfit + for active duty in the war zone. There was a small contingent of + Americans, a great many Portuguese, some Spaniards, Norwegians, and a more + or less polyglot remainder without national classification. + </p> + <p> + His First Officer was a Scotch-American, the Second an Irish-American, the + Chief Engineer a plain unhyphenated American from Baltimore, Maryland. The + purser, Mr. Codge, was still an Englishman, although he had lived in the + United States since he was two years old,—a matter of forty-seven + years and three months, if we are to believe Mr. Codge, who seemed rather + proud of the fact that his father had neglected to forswear allegiance to + Queen Victoria, leaving it to his son to follow his example in the case of + King Edward the Seventh and of King George the Fifth. + </p> + <p> + There were eighty-one first-cabin passengers, one hundred and nineteen in + the second cabin,—for the two had not been consolidated on the + Doraine as was the case with the harried trans-Atlantic liners,—and + approximately three hundred and fifty in the steerage. The first and + second cabin lists represented many races, South Americans predominating. + </p> + <p> + The great republics in the lower half of the hemisphere were cut off + almost entirely from the Old World so far as general travel was concerned. + The people of Argentine, Brazil and Chili turned their eyes from the east + and looked to the north, where lay the hitherto ignored and sometime hated + continent whose middle usurped the word American. A sea voyage in these + parlous days meant but one thing to the people of South America: a visit + to an unsentimental land whose traditions, if any were cherished at all, + went back no farther than yesterday and were to be succeeded by fresh ones + tomorrow. At least, such was the belief of the Latin who still dozed + superciliously in the glory of his long-dead ancestors. Not having Paris, + or London, or Madrid, or Rome as the Mecca of his dreams, his pilgrimage + now carried him to the infidel realities of the North,—to + Washington, New York, New Orleans, Newport and Atlantic City! He had the + money for travel, so why stay at home? He had the money to waste, so why + not dissipate? He had the thirst for sin, so why famish? + </p> + <p> + There were lovely women on board, and children with and without the golden + spoon; there were men whose names were known on both sides of the Atlantic + and whose reputations for integrity, sagacity, intellect, and,—it + must be confessed,—corruptness, (with the author's apology for the + inclusion); doughty but dogmatic university men who had penetrated the + wildernesses as naturalists, entomologists, mineralogists, archaeologists, + explorers; sportsmen who had forsaken the lion, rhinoceros, hartebeest and + elephant of Africa for the jaguar, cougar, armadillo and anteater of South + America; soldiers of fortune whose gods had lured them into the + comparative safety of South American revolutions; miners, stock buyers and + raisers, profiteersmen, diplomats, priests, preachers, gamblers, smugglers + and thieves; others who had gone out for the Allies to buy horses, beeves, + grain, metal, chemicals, manganese and men; financiers, merchants, + lawyers, writers, musicians, doctors, dentists, architects; gentiles and + Jews, Protestants and Catholics, skeptics and infidels,—in short, + good men, bad men, beggar men, thieves. + </p> + <p> + The world will readily recall such names and personalities as these: Abel + T. Landover, the great New York banker; Peter Snipe, the novelist; Solomon + Nicklestick, the junior member in the firm of Winkelwein & + Nicklestick, importers of hides, etc., Ninth Avenue, New York; Moses + Block, importer of rubber; James January Jones, of San Francisco, promoter + and financier; Randolph Fitts, of Boston, the well-known architect; Percy + Knapendyke, the celebrated naturalist; Michael O'Malley Malone, of the law + firm of Eads, Blixton, Solomon, Carlson, Vecchiavalli, Revitsky, Perkins + & Malone, New York; William Spinney, of the Chicago Police force, (and + his prisoner, “Soapy” Shay, diamond thief); Denby Flattner, the + taxidermist; Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate; Madame + Careni-Amori, soprano from the Royal Opera, Rome; Signer Joseppi, the new + tenor, described as the logical successor to the great Caruso; Madame + Obosky and three lesser figures in the Russian Ballet, who were coming to + the United States to head a long-heralded tour, “by special arrangement + with the Czar”; Buck Chizler, the famous jockey,—and so on. + </p> + <p> + These were the names most conspicuously displayed by the newspapers during + the anxious, watchful days and weeks that succeeded the sailing of the + Doraine from the port in the Tropic of Capricorn. + </p> + <p> + Dozens of cities in the United States were represented by one or more + persons on board the Doraine, travellers of both sexes who, being denied + the privilege of a customary dash to Europe for the annual holiday, + resolved not to be deprived of their right to wander, nor the right to + return when they felt inclined. Whilom, defiant rovers in search of + change, they scoffed at conditions and went their way regardless of the + peril that stalked the seas. In the main they were money-spending, + time-dragging charges against the resources of a harassed, bewildered + government, claiming protection in return for arrogance. + </p> + <p> + Far to the south, off the Falkland Islands, at the bottom of the sea, lay + the battered hulls of what ware supposed to be the last of the German + fighting-ships in South Atlantic waters. Report had it, however, that + several well-armed cruisers had either escaped the hurricane of shells + from the British warships, or had been detached from the squadron before + the encounter took place. In any event, no vessel left a South American + port without maintaining a sharp lookout for prowling survivors of the + vanquished fleet, and no passenger went aboard who did not experience the + thrill of a hazardous undertaking. The ever-present and ever-ready + individual with official information from sources that could not be + questioned, travelled with remarkable regularity on each and every craft + that ventured out upon the Hun-infested waters. In the smoke-room the + invariable word went round that raiders were sinking everything in sight. + Every ship that sailed had on board at least one individual who claimed to + have been chased on a former voyage by a blockade-breaker,—(according + to the most reliable reports, the Germans were slipping warships through + the vaunted British net with the most astounding ease and frequency,)—and + there was no one with the hardihood or desire to question his veracity; + indeed, it was something of a joy to believe him, for was he not a living + and potential document to prove that the merchant marine could outwit, + outrace and outshoot the German pirates? + </p> + <p> + The Doraine was barely twenty-four hours out from port and ploughing along + steadily through a choppy sea when Mr. Mott, the First Officer, reported + to Captain Trigger that a stowaway had been found on board. + </p> + <p> + “German?” inquired Captain Trigger tersely. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. At least, he doesn't look it and, what's more, he doesn't act + it. Claims to be American born and bred.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what a great many Germans are claiming these days, Mr. Mott. We + can't take any chances, you know. Where was he found?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott cleared his throat. “Ahem! He wasn't what you might call found, + sir. As a matter of fact, he applied in person to the Chief Engineer about + half an hour ago and asked for a job. He said he was perfectly willing to + work out his passage home. Mr. Gray had him conducted to me, sir,—rather + sharply guarded, of course,—and he—” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch him here at once, Mr. Mott,” commanded Captain Trigger. “I'll hear + what he has to say first hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir.” Mr. Mott started away, hesitated, rubbed his chin + dubiously, and then came back. “He's having a bit of breakfast, sir, and + has asked for the loan of Mr. Codge's razors—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” roared the captain. + </p> + <p> + “I informed him he would have to appear before you at once, sir, and he + said he was quite willing to do so, but would it be possible for him to + tidy up a bit beforehand. I am obliged to confess, sir, that I have never + encountered a more interesting stowaway in all my career, which leads me + to confess still further that I gave orders to feed him,—he hasn't + had a mouthful to eat since we left port, owing to the fact, he says, that + his luggage shifted the first day out and try as he would he couldn't + locate it without a match, or something to that effect,—he rather + stumped me, sir, with the graceful way he lies,—and then Mr. Codge + agreed to let him take one of his razors, and when I left him below, sir, + it seemed quite certain that Mr. Gray was on the point of lending him a + shirt and a change of underwear. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, sir!” gasped Captain Trigger, with something more than emotion + in his voice. “What is this you are telling me?” + </p> + <p> + “He seems a most likeable chap,” explained Mr. Mott lamely. “Quite a + courteous fellow, too, sir. I forgot to mention that he sent his + compliments to you and asks for an interview at your earliest conven—” + </p> + <p> + “Asked for an interview? Drag him here at once—by the heels, if + necessary. Tell him I shan't keep him waiting an instant,” said the + captain ironically. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott still hesitated. “In the event, sir, that he is in the midst of + shaving—” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care a hang what he's in the midst of,” exclaimed Captain + Trigger. “Even in the midst of changing shirts. Present my compliments to + him, Mr. Mott, and say that he needn't dress up on my account. I am an + old-fashioned sailor-man. It is nothing new to me to see men who haven't + shaved in a fortnight, and others who never change shirts.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” said Mr. Mott, and departed. + </p> + <p> + Presently he reappeared with the stowaway in charge. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger beheld a well set-up young man of medium height, with + freshly shaven chin and jaws, carefully brushed hair, spotless white shirt + and collar, and,—revealed in a quick glance,—recently scrubbed + hands. His brown Norfolk jacket was open, and he carried a brand new, + though somewhat shapeless pan-ama hat in his hand. Evidently he had ceased + fanning himself with it at the moment of entering the captain's presence. + The keen, good-looking face was warm and moist as the result of a most + violent soaping. He wore corduroy riding-breeches, cavalry boots that + betrayed their age in spite of a late polishing at the hands of an + energetic and carefully directed bootblack, and a broad leather belt from + which only half an eye was required to see that a holster had been + detached with a becoming regard for neatness. His hair was thick and + sun-bleached; his eyes, dark and unafraid, met the stern gaze of the + captain with directness and respect; his lips and chin were firm in + repose, but they might easily be the opposite if relaxed; his skin was so + tanned and wind-bitten that the whites of his eyes were startlingly + defined and vivid. He was not a tall man,—indeed, one would have + been justified in suspecting him of being taller than he really was + because of the more or less deceiving erectness with which he carried + himself. As a matter of fact, he was not more than five feet ten or ten + and a half. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger eyed him narrowly for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “A. A. Percival, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Your full name, young man. No initials.” + </p> + <p> + The stowaway seemed to add an inch to his height before replying. + </p> + <p> + “Algernon Adonis Percival, sir,” he said, a very clear note of defiance in + his voice. + </p> + <p> + The Captain looked at the First Officer, and the First Officer, after a + brief stare at the speaker, looked at the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “It's his right name, you can bet, sir,” said Mr. Mott, with conviction. + “Nobody would voluntarily give himself a name like that.” + </p> + <p> + “You never can tell about these Americans, Mr. Mott,” said the Captain + warily. “They've got what they call a keen sense of humour, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival smiled. His teeth were very white and even. + </p> + <p> + “I am a first and only child,” he explained. “That ought to account for + it, sir,” he went on, a trifle defensively. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger did not smile. Mr. Mott, however, looked distinctly + sympathetic. + </p> + <p> + “You say you are an American,—a citizen of the United States?” + demanded the former. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. My home is in Baltimore.” + </p> + <p> + “Baltimore?” repeated Mr. Mott quickly. “That's where Mr. Gray hails from, + sir,” he added, as a sort of apology to the Captain for the exclamation. + </p> + <p> + The Captain's gaze settled on the stowaway's spotless white shirt and + collar. Then he nodded his head slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gray is the Chief Engineer,” he explained, with mock courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,—I know,” responded Percival. “He comes of one of the + oldest and most highly connected families in Baltimore. He informs me that + his father—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind!” snapped the Captain. “We need not discuss Mr. Gray's + antecedents. How old are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty last Friday, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Married?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Parents living?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And now, what the devil do you mean by sneaking aboard this ship and + hiding yourself in the—by the way, Mr. Mott, where was he hiding?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott: “It doesn't seem to be quite clear as yet, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott: “I say, it isn't quite clear. We have only his word for it. You + see, he wasn't discovered until he accosted Mr. Shannon on the bridge and + asked—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “On the bridge, Mr. Mott?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott: “That is to say, sir, Mr. Shannon was on the bridge and he was + below on the promenade deck. He asked Mr. Shannon if he was the Captain of + the boat.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “He did, eh? Well?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott: “He was informed that you were at breakfast, sir,—no one + suspecting him of being a stowaway, of course,—and then, it appears, + he started out to look for you. That's how he fell in with the Chief + Engineer. Mr. Gray informs me that he applied for work, admitting that he + was aboard without leave, or passage, or funds, or anything else, it would + seem. But, as for where he lay in hiding, there hasn't been anything + definite arrived at as yet, sir. He seems to have been hiding in a rather + wide-spread sort of way.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival, amiably: “Permit me to explain, Captain Trigger. You see, I + have been obliged to change staterooms three times. Naturally, that might + be expected to create some little confusion in my mind. I began in the + second cabin. Much to my surprise and chagrin I found, too late, that the + stateroom I had chosen,—at random, I may say,—was merely in + the state of being prepared for a lady and gentleman who had asked to be + transferred from a less desirable one. I had some difficulty in getting + out of it without attracting attention. I don't know what I should have + done if the steward hadn't informed them that he could not move their + steamer-trunk until morning. There wouldn't have been room for both of us + under the berth, sir. If the gentleman had been alone I shouldn't have + minded in the least remaining, under his berth, but he—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “How did you happen to get into that room, young man? The + doors are never unlocked when the rooms are unoccupied.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival: “You are mistaken, sir. I found at least three stateroom + doors unlocked that night, and my search was by no means extensive.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “This is most extraordinary, Mr. Mott,—if true.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott: “It shall be looked into, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “Go on, young man.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival: “I tried another room in the second cabin, but had to + abandon it also. It had no regular occupant,—it was Number 221 + remember,—but along about midnight two men opened the door with a + key and came in. They were stewards. I gathered that they were getting the + room ready for someone else, so when they departed,—very quietly, + sir,—I sneaked out and decided to try for accommodations in the + first cabin. I—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott: “Did you say stewards?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival: “That's what I took them to be.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger: “You are either lying, young man, or plumb crazy.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival, with dignity: “The latter is quite possible, Captain,—but + not the former. I managed quite easily to get from the second cabin to the + first. You'd be surprised to know how simple it was. Running without + lights as you do, sir, simplified things tremendously. I found a very sick + and dejected Jewish gentleman trying to die in the least exposed corner of + the promenade deck. At least, he said he didn't want to live. I offered to + put him to bed and to sit up with him all night if it would make him feel + a little less like passing away. He lurched at the chance. I accompanied + him to his stateroom, and so got a few much-needed hours of repose, + despite his groans. I also ate his breakfast for him. Skirmishing around + this morning, I found there were no unoccupied rooms in the first cabin, + so I decided that we were far enough from land for me to reveal myself to + the officer of the day,—if that's what you call 'em on board ship,—with + a very honest and laudable desire to work my passage home. I can only add, + Captain, that I am ready and willing to do anything from swabbing floors + on the upper deck to passing coal at the bottom of the ship.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger stared hard at the young man, a puzzled expression in his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You appear to be a gentleman,” he said at last. “Why are you on board + this ship as a stowaway? Don't you know that I can put you in irons, + confine you to the brig, and put you ashore at the first port of call?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir. That's just what I am trying to avoid. As a gentleman, I + am prepared to do everything in my power to relieve you of what must seem + a most painful official duty.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott smiled. The Captain stiffened perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + “How did you come aboard this ship?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “As a coal passer, sir. Day before yesterday, when you were getting in the + last lot of coal. I had a single five dollar gold piece in my pocket. It + did the trick. With that seemingly insignificant remnant of a comfortable + little fortune, I induced one of the native coal carriers,—a + Portuguese nobleman, I shall always call him,—to part with his + trousers, shirt and hat. I slipped 'em on over my own clothes, stuffed my + boots and socks inside my shirt, picked up his basket of coal, and walked + aboard. It isn't necessary, I suppose, to state that my career as a + dock-hand ceased with that solitary basket of coal, or that having once + put foot aboard the Doraine, I was in a position to book myself as a + passenger.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm damned!” said Captain Trigger. “Some one shall pay for this + carelessness, Mr. Mott. I've never heard of anything so cool. What did you + say your name is, young man?” + </p> + <p> + “A. A. Percival, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ahem! I see. Will it offend you, A. A., if I make so bold as to + inquire why the devil you neglected to book your passage in the regular + way, as any gentleman from Baltimore might have been expected to do, and + where is your passport, your certificate of health, your purse and your + discharge from prison?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival spread out his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + </p> + <p> + “Would you be interested in my story, Captain Trigger? It is brief, but + edifying. When I arrived in town, the evening before you were to sail, I + had a wallet well-filled with gold, currency, and so forth. I had + travelled nearly two thousand miles,—from the foothills of the + Andes, to be more definite,—and I had my papers, my cancelled + contract, and a clear right-of-way, so to speak. My personal belongings + were supposed to have arrived in town on the train with me. A couple of + cow-hide trunks, in fact. Well, they didn't arrive. I don't know what + became of them. I had no time to investigate. This was the last boat I + could get for two or three weeks that would land me in the U. S. A. I put + up at the Alcazar Grand for the night. It was then too late to secure + passage, but I fully intended to do so the first thing in the morning. + There was a concert and dance at the hotel that night, and I went in to + look on for awhile. I ran across a friend, an engineer who was on the job + with me up in the hills a few months ago. He is also an American, a chap + from Providence, Rhode Island. Connected with the consular service now. He + was with a small party of Americans,—am I boring you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,—get on with it,” urged Captain Trigger. + </p> + <p> + “Several of them were sailing on this ship, and they were having a little + farewell party. That, however, has nothing to do with the case. I left + them at midnight and went up to my room. Now comes the part you will not + believe. During the night,—I sleep very soundly,—some one + entered my room, rifled my pockets, and got away with everything I + possessed, except my clothes and the five-dollar gold piece I have carried + ever since I left home,—as a lucky coin, you know. He—” + </p> + <p> + “How did he happen to overlook your lucky coin?” inquired the Captain + sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + “Because it couldn't be a lucky coin if I carried it in my purse. No coin + is ever lucky that gets into my purse, Captain. I always kept it tightly + sewed up in the band of my trousers, safe from the influence of evil + companions. I did not discover the loss until morning. It was then too + late to do anything, as you were sailing at eight. My Providence friend + was not available. I knew no one else. But I was determined to sail on the + Doraine. That's the story, sir, in brief. I leave it to you if I wasn't + justified in doing the best I could under the circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger was not as fierce as he looked. He could not keep the + twinkle out of his eye. + </p> + <p> + “We will see about that,” he managed to say with commendable gruffness. + “Assuming that your story is true, why are you in such a tremendous hurry + to reach the United States? Skipping out for some reason, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the young man slowly, “you see, news is a long time getting + out into the wilderness where I've been located for a couple of years. We + knew, of course, that there was a war on, but we didn't know how it was + progressing. Down here in this part of the world we have a war every two + or three months, and we've got so used to having 'em over within a week or + two that we just naturally don't pay much attention to them. We don't even + care who wins. But a couple of months ago we got word up there that the + United States had finally got into it with everybody under the sun, and + that the Germans were bound to win if we didn't get a couple of million + men across in pretty short order. I am thirty years old, Captain, strong + and healthy, and I'm a good American. That's why I want to get home. I've + told you the truth about being robbed. I don't mind losing the money,—only + a couple of thousand pesos, you know,—but if you chuck me off at the + next port of call, Captain Trigger, I'll curse you to my dying day. I'm + willing to work, I'm willing to be put in irons, I'm willing to get along + on bread and water, but you've just got to land me in the United States. + You are an Englishman. I suppose you've got relatives over in France + fighting the Germans. Maybe you've had some one killed who is dear to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “My youngest son was killed in Flanders,” said the Captain simply. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, sir. Well, for every Englishman and every Frenchman who has + died over there, my country ought to supply some one to take his place. I + expect to be one of those men, Captain. I have no other excuse for coming + aboard your ship as a stowaway.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain still eyed him narrowly. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are honest, young man. If I am deceived in you I shall + never trust the eyes of another man as long as I live. Sit down, Mr. + Percival. I shall put you to work, never fear, but in the meantime I am + very much interested in what you were doing up in the hills. You will + oblige me by going as fully as possible into all the details. I shall not + pass judgment on you until I've heard all of your story.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + Algernon Adonis Percival, civil and mining engineer, Cornell, had gone + through certain rather harsh stages of development in the mines of Montana + and later in the perilous districts of Northern Mexico. A year or two + prior to the breaking out of the great World War, he was sent to South + America to replace the general superintendent of a new copper-mining + enterprise in a remote section of the Andes, on the Bolivian side of the + mountains. Here he was in charge of the heterogeneous horde of miners, + labourers, structural workers and assayists who were engaged in the + development and extension of the vast concession controlled by his + company. + </p> + <p> + His description of the camp or town in which this motley assemblage dwelt + from one year's end to the other, far from civilization, was illuminating + to the two sea-faring men. It must be confessed, however, that a sound + reluctance to swallow the tale without the proverbial grain of salt caused + them to watch closely for the slightest sign that might reveal to them the + always-to-be expected and seldom successful duplicity so common in those + harrowing days when all men were objects of suspicion. From time to time + they glanced inquiringly at each other, but the stranger's story was so + straightforward, so lacking in personal exploitation, so free from + unnecessary detail, that they were finally convinced that he was all that + he represented himself to be and that they had nothing to fear from him. + </p> + <p> + His long, hazardous journey by horse through the passes down into the + forests and jungles, out upon the endless, sparsely settled pampas, and + eventually into the remote village that witnessed the passing every second + day of a primitive and far from dependable railway train, was presented + with agreeable simplicity and conciseness. He passed briefly over what + might have been expanded into grave experiences, and at last came, so to + speak, to the gates of the city, unharmed, resolute and full of the fire + that knows no quenching. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” observed the Captain, still wary, “has it occurred to you we + may be justified in suspecting that you deserted your post up there in the + hills, and that you have betrayed the confidence of your employers?” + Percival had completed what he evidently believed to be a full and + satisfactory account of himself. + </p> + <p> + “I was in full charge up there, Captain Trigger. My contract had but a + month more to run. I appointed my own successor, and the company will not + be any the worse off for the change. My letter to headquarters, announcing + my decision not to renew the contract, went forward two weeks before I + left the camp. I merely anticipated the actual termination of my contract + by a month or so, and as I handed my resignation at once to my own newly + appointed superintendent, I submit that I acted in absolute good faith. I + may say that he accepted it without a word of protest, sir. As a matter of + fact, I told him in advance that I wouldn't appoint him unless he agreed + to accept my resignation.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain smiled at this ingenuous explanation. + </p> + <p> + “I daresay I ought to put you under guard, Mr. Percival,” he said. “My + duty is very plain. A stowaway is a stowaway, no matter how you look at + him. The regulations do not leave me any choice. Maritime justice is + rarely tempered by mercy. However, under the circumstances, I am inclined + to accept your word of honour that you will not violate your parole if I + refrain from putting you in irons. Have I your word of honour that you + will not leave this ship until I hand you over to the proper authorities + in the United States?” + </p> + <p> + “You have, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a very head-strong, ambitious young man. You will not jump + overboard and try to beat us into port under your own steam?” + </p> + <p> + “You may trust me, sir, never to give up the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will kill as many Germans as possible?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said A. A. Percival submissively. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger arose and extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I've never done anything like this before in all my years as ship's + master. You ought to be flogged and stowed away in the brig until you show + a properly subdued spirit, young man. I suppose you've heard of the + cat-o'-nine-tails?” + </p> + <p> + “My reading up to the age of fifteen was confined almost exclusively to + the genteel histories of pirates, buccaneers and privateersmen, Captain + Trigger,” announced A. A. Percival, taking the master's hand in a firm + grip. “I wonder if you know what a black-snake whip is, or a cattle-adder? + Well, they're both painful and convincing. As director of morals in the + camp I have just left behind me, it was my official duty on frequent + occasions to see to it that current offenders had from fifteen to fifty + applications of the black-snake in a public sort of way. The black-snake, + I may explain, could be wielded by a strong but unskilled arm. It was + different, however, with the cattle-adder. That had to be handled by an + expert, one who could stand off twenty paces, more or less, and crack the + long lash with such astonishing precision that the tip end of it barely + touched the back of the culprit, the result being a nobby assortment of + splotches that looked for all the world like hives after the blood got + back into them again. You see, I was chief magistrate, executioner + ex-officio, chief of police, jury commissioner—in fact, an + all-around potentate. Sort of Pooh-bah, you know. For serious offences, + such as wife beating, wife stealing, or having more than one wife at a + time, we were not so lenient. The offender, on conviction, was strung up + by the thumbs and used as a target by amateurs who desired to become + proficient in the use of the cattle-adder. Murderers were attended to a + trifle more expeditiously. They were strung up by the neck.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, man,—do you mean to say you hung men in that off-hand + fashion?” cried Captain Trigger, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Not without a fair trial, sir. No innocent man was ever hung. There was + no such thing as circumstantial evidence in that camp. The guilty man was + always taken red-handed. We had good laws and they were rigidly enforced. + There was no other way, sir. Short, sharp and decisive. It's the best way. + Men understand that sort of thing and honest men approve of the method. + You see, gentlemen, we had a hard lot of characters to deal with. I wish + to add, however, that before I had been up there six months we had a + singularly law-abiding and self-respecting camp. Crime was not tolerated, + not even by the men who had once been criminals. If two men quarrelled, + they were allowed to fight it out fairly and squarely in any way they + could agree upon. Knives, hatchets and all other messy weapons were + barred. It was either fists, pistols or rifles at a fairly long range, and + under the strictest rules. Duels were fought according to Hoyle, and were + witnessed by practically every one in camp. You will perceive that + Copperhead Camp was no place for a coward or a bluffer or a bully. It + takes a brave man to fight a duel with a chap who may be only half as big + as he is, but who can shoot like the devil. So you see, Captain Trigger, + the cat-o'-nine-tails has no terror for me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott regarded the young man with wide-open, somewhat incredulous eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You don't look like a fire-eating, swashbuckling party to me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I am the most peaceable chap you've ever seen, Mr. Mott. You needn't be + alarmed. I'm not going to bite a hole in the ship and scuttle her. + Moreover, I am a very meek and lowly individual on board this ship. + There's a lot of difference between being in supreme command with all + kinds of authority to bolster you up and being a rat in a trap as I am + now. Up in Copperhead Camp I was a nabob, here I'm a nobody. Up there I + was the absolute boss of five or six hundred men,—I won't say I + could boss the women,—and I made 'em all walk chalk without once + losing step. There were murderers and crooks, blacklegs and gunmen in my + genial aggregation, men whose true names we never knew, men who were + wanted in every part of the civilized world. The only place on earth, I + suppose, where they could feel reasonably at home was in that gosh-awful + nowhere that we called Copperhead Camp. You can't handle such men with + mittens. And there were good men there as well,—good, strong, + righteous men. They were the leaven that made the whole thing palatable. + Without them I could have had no authority. But I dare say I am boring + you. The present situation is the one we're interested in, not the lordly + past of your humble and, I trust, obedient servant.” + </p> + <p> + His smile was most engaging, but back of it the two seamen read strength, + decision, integrity. The gay, bantering, whilom attitude of this unusual + young man was not assumed. It was not a pose. He was not a dare-devil, nor + was he a care-free, unstable youth who had matured abruptly in the + exercise of power. On the contrary, he was,—and Captain Trigger knew + it,—the personification of confidence, an optimist to whom victory + and defeat are equally unavoidable and therefore to be reckoned as one in + the vast scheme of human endeavour; a fighter who merely rests on his arms + but never lays them down; a spirit that absorbs the bitters and the sweets + of life with equal relish. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger was not slow in making up his mind. This clean-minded, + clean-bodied American with the confident though respectful smile, was a + chap after his own heart. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know what to do with you, Percival,” he said, a scowl of genuine + perplexity in his eyes. “You are not an ordinary transgressor. You are a + gentleman. You have exercised an authority perhaps somewhat similar to my + own,—possibly in some respects your position up there was even more + autocratic, if I may use the term. I am not unconscious of all this, and + yet I have no choice other than that designated by law. The regulations + are unalterable. It is a matter of morale, pure and simple. We are + compelled to treat all stowaways alike. Of course, I shall not subject you + to the ordinary—shall we say methods of—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Captain,” broke in the young man, his smile no longer in + evidence; “I am asking no favours. I expect to be treated as an ordinary + stowaway. Set me to work at anything you like and I will make as good a + job of it as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “I was about to suggest that you serve as a sort of assistant to Mr. + Codge, the purser. I've no doubt he could find something for you to do and—” + </p> + <p> + “If that is your way of punishing me, Captain Trigger, of course there is + nothing for me to do but to submit.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? I am sure you will not find Mr. Codge a hard taskmaster. He is quite + a good-natured man.” + </p> + <p> + “Extremely kind and considerate,” hastily added Mr. Mott, reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + “But I don't want to loaf my passage home,” protested Percival. “I want to + be sentenced to the hardest sort of labour, if you don't mind. I don't + want to owe this steamship company a penny when I step ashore. It is your + duty, sir, as master of this ship, to put me on the meanest job you've + got.” + </p> + <p> + “My word!” exclaimed Captain Trigger. + </p> + <p> + “I'm blessed!” said Mr. Mott. + </p> + <p> + “Up where I've been running things and cock-walking like a foreman in a + shirt-waist factory, I made the rules and I enforced them. I want to say + to you that no favours were shown. If the Prince of Wales had drifted in + there, dead broke, and asked for something to eat, he would have got it, + but you bet your life he'd have had to work for it. A tramp's a tramp, no + matter how much purple he's been used to, and you can say the same for a + stowaway. What's the matter with me taking the place of one of those + deck-hands, or whatever you call 'em, you lost last night?” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Swabbers, maybe you call 'em. Men that mop up the decks after everybody + else has turned in.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about?” demanded the Captain, sitting up very + straight. Percival stared at him in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you knew about it, of course. Good Lord, sir, don't you know + that a couple of your men jumped overboard last night,—or early this + morning, rather? Just as the ship was rounding that big headland—” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, man, are you in earnest?” cried Mr. Mott, starting toward the + door. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly am. I took them for deserters, of course,—not suicides, + because they didn't forget to put on life preservers before they jumped. I + haven't a doubt they were picked up, so there's no use worrying. A minute + or two after they went over,—from the bottom deck or whatever you + call it,—I heard a motor boat popping away like a gatling-gun not + far,—” + </p> + <p> + But he was alone. Captain Trigger had dashed out of the cabin in the wake + of the First Officer. + </p> + <p> + Algernon Adonis Percival stared blankly at the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, why all this excitement over a couple of bums?” he said, + addressing space. “If they were working for me, I'd thank the Lord to be + rid of 'em so cheaply. They—Hello!” + </p> + <p> + The Second Officer popped into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Come along with me,” he snapped. “Lively, now. Just where and when did + you see a couple of men go overboard? Quietly, now. We don't want to alarm + the passengers.” + </p> + <p> + Within five minutes after Percival's disturbing report, the officers of + the Doraine, with set faces, were employed in a swift but silent + investigation. Before many more minutes had passed, at least a portion of + the stowaway's story had been verified. Two men were found to be missing, + although, strange to say, they had not been missed up to the time that + noses were counted. They were down on the ship's roster as Norwegians, New + York registry, and had come down with the Doraine on her trip from the + north. + </p> + <p> + Percival repeated his story, but had little to add in the way of detail. + He had stolen on deck some time after midnight for a breath of air, + risking detection, and from the shelter of a secluded corner well aft had + heard the two men swabbing the deck below. Suddenly they ceased work, and + he prepared to creep back to a place of safety, concluding that they were + on their way to the upper deck. + </p> + <p> + He went to the rail to listen. The two men were almost directly below him, + and he could see the upper portions of their figures as they leaned far + out over the rail, apparently looking into the swirling waters below. + Quite distinctly he heard one of them say, in English: “We got to do it + now or never.” The other mumbled something he could not distinguish. He + was only mildly interested, not anticipating what was to follow. For a few + seconds he heard them scrambling and puffing and then he saw them quite + plainly on the rail, their figures bulky with what he identified as life + buoys, a faint light from somewhere falling directly upon the + grayish-white objects in which they were swathed. + </p> + <p> + One of them uttered the word “Now!” and to his amazement they shot out, as + one man, into the black-ness below. There was a single splash. For a + moment or two he stood spell-bound. Then he heard some one running along + the deck below. Convinced that the incident had been witnessed by others, + he darted into the companion-way and made his way back to the stateroom of + the sick passenger. Through the lightless porthole he listened for the + terrifying shout, “Man overboard!” It did not come, but his ear caught the + staccato beat of a motor near by, striking up abruptly out of the swish of + rushing waters. In his ignorance, he decided that it was a boat from the + ship going to the rescue of the daring deserters, and calmly waited for + the engines of the mighty Doraine to cease their rhythmic pulsing. He fell + asleep. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke, he concluded that he had dreamed the whole thing. This + conclusion was justified when he asked his wretched “bunkie” if he had + observed him leaving the room during the night. The answer was a mournful + negative, followed by the sufferer's more or less positive declaration + that he was staring wide awake the whole damned night long. + </p> + <p> + Percival, unconvinced, boldly made his way to the lower deck and + discovered that two life buoys were missing from their supports, a + circumstance that put an end to the hope that he had dreamed it all. His + own affairs however now loomed large, taking precedence over the plight of + the men who had deliberately abandoned the ship. In any case, the ship's + officers had done everything that could be done in the matter. He was + genuinely astonished to learn that the act of the two men was unknown to + the Captain. + </p> + <p> + A hurried conference of the ship's officers and the commander of the + gun-crew resulted in a single but definite conclusion. The desperate, even + suicidal manner in which the men left the ship signified but one thing: + the absolute necessity of flight before an even more sinister peril + confronted them. Not a man on board doubted for an instant that they had + taken their chance in the waters as a part of a preconceived plan, and + they had taken it with all the devilish hardihood of fanatics. + </p> + <p> + The presence of the motor craft, so far out from port, lurking with silent + engine in the path of the steamship, could have but one significance. It + represented one of the carefully thought-out details in a stupendous, + far-reaching plot. + </p> + <p> + If there were signals between the motor boat and the two men aboard the + steamship, they were not observed by the lookouts. In all probability no + signals were given. The little craft was to be at a certain place at a + certain hour,—and she was there! The men who jumped knew that she + would be there. A black, tiny speck on the broad expanse of water, + sheltered by a night of almost stygian darkness, she lay outside the + narrow radius to which visual observation was confined, patiently waiting + for the Doraine to pass a designated point. There was to be no + miscalculation on the part of either the boat or the men who went over the + side of the big steamship into the seething waters. + </p> + <p> + The closest inquiry among the members of the crew failed to reveal any one + who had witnessed the leap of the men. Percival was positive, however, + that some one ran along the lower deck, but whether toward or away from + the spot where the men went over he had no means of knowing. He offered + the suggestion that there were three persons actually involved, and that + one of them, more than likely the victim of a coin-flipping decision, had + remained on board to complete the work the trio had been chosen to + perform, even though death was to be his lot. + </p> + <p> + The Second Officer had been regarding Percival with ever-growing + suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything to prove, young man, that you are not the one who + stayed behind to complete the job?” he demanded at last. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said Percival promptly, and somewhat scathingly, “nothing at + all, except the trifling fact that I am here talking it over with you + gentlemen instead of attending to my business, as any honest conspirator + should be doing. You may be quite sure of one thing: if there is a man on + board this ship whose business it is to finish the job, he isn't idle. + He's getting on with the job at this minute, gentlemen. If you'll take my + advice you will institute two investigations. First, search the ship from + stem to stern, from keel to bridge, for bombs or infernal machines. + Second, ask your rich passengers if they have lost anything in the shape + of pearls, diamonds, coin of the realm, or anything else worth jumping + into the ocean for.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger looked at him over the top of his eye-glasses. + </p> + <p> + “You are not in Copperhead Camp at present, Mr. Percival,” he said + stiffly. + </p> + <p> + The young man flushed. “I beg your pardon, Captain Trigger,” he said + simply. + </p> + <p> + “All you have to do,” said the Second Officer, fixing him with an inimical + eye, “is to answer questions and not to tell us how to run this ship.” + </p> + <p> + Percival did his best to hold back the retort, but, failing, released it + with considerable sharpness: + </p> + <p> + “Well, if I was running this ship I'd head her for shore pretty damned + quick.” + </p> + <p> + The American in command of the gun-crew was the only one who smiled, and + he did it openly. Captain Trigger's face darkened redly. + </p> + <p> + “Take this man in charge, Mr. Shannon. He wants work. Give it him. Under + guard.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I suspected, Captain Trigger, of being in league—” + </p> + <p> + “Every man, every woman on board this ship is suspected,” said the Captain + with decision. “Every one, sir, from myself down. The rest of us grasp + that fact, even if you do not.” + </p> + <p> + And so it was that while Algernon Adonis Percival, under the watchful eye + of a burly seaman, fell to work scraping the scuppers on the boat deck, + the stern business of searching the ship went forward with a thoroughness + that left no room for doubt as to the fears and apprehensions of the men + who had her in charge. Despite the fact that intensive, anxious hours of + delving revealed no hidden, sinister agent of destruction, there was no + relaxation on the part of the officers and crew. One by one the passengers + were examined; their rooms and their luggage were systematically + overhauled. No one resented these drastic operations, for by midday the + whole ship's company knew what had transpired during the night. Eagerly + they answered the questions, cheerfully they submitted to the examination + of their effects, and then fell silent and subdued, oppressed by the + suspense that hung over the ship like a cloud. Crew and passengers alike + underwent the most rigid questioning, the high and the low, the rich and + the poor, the young and the old. + </p> + <p> + Early that morning, in fact some time prior to the time that Percival told + his story, the wireless operator reported that his transmitter was out of + order. While he was satisfied that the apparatus had not been tampered + with, he was plainly affected by the rather grim coincidence. He was an + old and trusted man in the service, competent, efficient and loyal. + </p> + <p> + His assistant, the night operator, however, had made less than half a + dozen voyages on the Doraine. He was an Englishman, a cripple; twice he + had been rescued after vessels on which he sailed were sent to the bottom + by German submarines. His credentials were flawless. He was on duty during + the night just past, and had picked up several indistinct, incomplete + radio messages. There was nothing wrong with the receiving or transmitting + apparatus when he went off duty at six in the morning, and as his superior + came on at the same hour,—they exchanged greetings at the door of + the wireless house,—it was absolutely impossible for any one to have + entered the well-guarded room without attracting attention. Cruise, the + chief radio-man, had his assistant routed out of bed and together they + worked like beavers over the disabled mechanism. + </p> + <p> + Hour after hour, the nervous, uneasy passengers paced the decks. Few + remained indoors, and few possessed the calmness to loll in deck-chairs. + </p> + <p> + Percival toiled cheerfully, but with eye and ear alert for the first + inkling of definite peril. With commendable thoughtfulness, he had shed + the clean white shirt and collar so generously supplied by his fellow + townsman, and had donned a commodious sea-jacket. + </p> + <p> + He could not help observing the dark, suspicious glances cast upon him by + the deck-walkers, nor were his ears proof against audible comments. + Mothers nudged their children and said, in slightly lowered but distinctly + impressive tones: + </p> + <p> + “That's the man. He's a stowaway.” + </p> + <p> + “See, Wilfred,—see the man? No, no! The one with the mop, dear. + Don't go near him.” + </p> + <p> + “What a dreadful looking creature he is.” + </p> + <p> + “The Captain captured him this morning away down in the bottom of the + ship. He was stealing a ride.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow! He doesn't look like a bad man, does he?” + </p> + <p> + And so on and so forth, as the day went along. + </p> + <p> + Masculine strollers had very decided opinions about him. Mr. Landover, the + banker, stopped to discuss the toiling menial with Mr. Nicklestick, Mr. + Block and Mr. Fitts. + </p> + <p> + “He ought to be in irons,” said Mr. Landover, glowering at Percival. + “That's what I told the Captain a little while ago. He's a bad egg, that + fellow is. I'm a pretty good judge of men, gentlemen, and I don't often + make mistakes. That fellow is a fugitive from justice, if he isn't + something worse. Observe the cut of his mouth—ah! see that? What did + I tell you? Did you ever see a more evil grin?” + </p> + <p> + “Take it from me,” said Mr. Nicklestick, “that guy knows a good deal more + about what is going on aboard this ship than he lets on. He ain't as + simple as he looks. I told Captain Trigger just now that he ought to give + him a dose of the third degree. That's the way to get to the bottom of + this business. String him up by the thumbs till he squeals. What say, Mr. + Fitts?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitts, the architect, was a mild man. + </p> + <p> + “He strikes me as a rather honest looking sort of chap,” he said, and was + promptly glared at by his companions. “Of course,” he hastened to add, “I + am not saying that he is all right. He may be as crooked as the deuce. I'm + only saying he's got a rather pleasing sort of face.” + </p> + <p> + “The most innocent, open-faced young fellow we ever had in the bank,” said + Mr. Landover, “turned out to be the damnedest rascal I've ever + encountered.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you happen to have him in the bank if you are such a good judge + of men?” inquired Mr. Fitts, utterly without malice. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover reddened. “My dear sir, I do not come in contact with every + employe of the bank. You forget that it is quite an immense institution.” + </p> + <p> + “It sure is,” said Mr. Nicklestick. “I'm thinking of transferring our + account to your bank, Mr. Landover. We've been banking with—” + </p> + <p> + “I vas telling my vife at lunch,” broke in Mr. Block, twitching his + Hebraic nose emphatically,—“not that we could eat any lunch, by + gracious, no!—I vas telling her I bet my boots dere ain't enough + life-boats to get as much as half of us off safe in case something + happens. I counted up all the life-boats I could see, and ven I estimate + the number of peoples on board, w'y, by gracious, the loss of life vould + be frightful, gentlemen. The only chance we would haf would be for + approxi-madely fifty percent of the peoples on board to be killed outright + by the explosion.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear there is a detective from Chicago on board, with a prisoner,” + ventured Mr. Fitts. “Why doesn't the Captain ask him to have a look at + this stowaway fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “What would be the good of that?” demanded Mr. Landover. “I never saw a + detective in my life that knew what to do in an emergency. Soon as you get + one of them where he can't telephone in to headquarters for instructions + he's as helpless as a baby. Don't talk to me about detectives. Why, this + fellow would simply laugh in his face.” + </p> + <p> + “Just, as he is laughing in yours at this moment, Mr. Landover,” pursued + Mr. Fitts pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “The damned rascal,” said Mr. Landover, and stalked away. + </p> + <p> + “There goes one of the biggest figures in the United States,” said Mr. + Nicklestick, looking after the banker. His remark was addressed to Mr. + Fitts. “I wish I had his brains.” + </p> + <p> + “Dey vouldn't do you any good, Nicklestick,” said Mr. Block, “unless you + had his money too also.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had his brains,” said Mr. Nicklestick, “he wouldn't have his money, + so what's the difference?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Block looked uneasily out over the tumbling ocean, focusing his gaze + on a section of the horizon that for want of something more definite than + mere hope lay in a direct line with the City of New York. + </p> + <p> + “And ven you stop to think,” said he wistfully, “that we are still + something like six thousand miles from home,—oh, veil! Vat's the + use? I bet you I never go so far avay from my business again. Vat a fool I + vas to make this trip ven the whole ocean is full of submarines and German + agents and plotters and—Yes, vat a fool ven I had so many + high-priced men vorking for me who vas crazy to come. But my vife she + vould do it. Paris and London every year it used to be, so she must haf a + little holiday or she vill die, she say. Veil, here we are. And ven I + think vat a long holiday it is going to be maybe,—by gracious, I + could kick myself for not giving in to my brother-in-law ven he begged so + hard to be allowed to make the trip because he needed the change from not + being avay from the office for five years, and his vife and children too. + His vife she needed a change as much as he, vat with not being able to get + into any good hotels in the summer time and not being able to keep out of + them in the vinter time, she vas nearly distracted. No, I vas selfish. My + vife she vas selfish too,—and him her own brother. Vy shouldn't he + haf a vacation vonce in awhile?” + </p> + <p> + He turned abruptly to the sailor who lounged near the perspiring Percival. + </p> + <p> + “How far is it to land, my frient?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + The sailor touched his cap. “Which way, sir?” he asked solemnly. “Fore or + aft?” + </p> + <p> + (Percival said to himself: “By golly, I'll bet that man is an American.”) + </p> + <p> + “Vat? Land,—you know vat I mean,—the end of the ocean. How far + avay is it?” + </p> + <p> + The sailor calculated. “Well, the nearest land, sir, I should say, is + about three hundred miles away, to port.” + </p> + <p> + “How deep is it here?” asked Mr. Nicklestick, moving away from the rail + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + The sailor glanced down at the water, squinted an eye, and then spoke + reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't half as deep here as it is a little furder on,” he said. “It's + only a shade over three miles where we are now, sir. We're comin' to the + deepest part of the ocean,—ought to be there inside of a couple of + hours. Here, you! On the job, on the job!” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to search that man carefully,” advised Mr. Nicklestick. + </p> + <p> + “I have,” growled the sailor. “He says he never uses it in that form. I + guess he's tellin' the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Never uses what?” + </p> + <p> + “Tobacco, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mr. Nicklestick, and, catching a glimpse of Madame Obosky + emerging upon the deck, unceremoniously deserted his companions and + hurried off to join her, his speed being suddenly accelerated by the + spectacle of Mr. Shine, the motion picture magnate, who approached the + lady from an equidistant station and with similar haste. Mr. Block, being + a trifle near-sighted and in some doubt as to the whereabouts of his wife, + peered here and there intently, and then bore down upon the celebrated + Russian dancer, who, it would seem, was in dire need of consolation. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitts followed them with a glance over his glasses and then turned to + the sailor man. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it's against orders for me to speak to this man,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The architect sighed, and walked away. + </p> + <p> + The parade became more interesting as the lack of news from the + investigators restored a sort of hopeful optimism to the breasts of the + anxious company. Those who had maintained a stubborn air of bravado, now + became almost offensively jaunty. Others, frankly terrified at the outset, + sauntered timidly away from the life-boats to which they were assigned. + Every one was glad that the Captain had ordered a life-boat drill on the + first afternoon out, and every one was glad that he had ignored the demand + of Mr. Landover that the boats be lowered the instant he discovered that + his passengers were in peril. No news was good news, argued the majority, + and jesting was in order. + </p> + <p> + Peter Snipe, the novelist, got out a pad of paper and began jotting down + impressions. Madam Careni-Amori and Signor Joseppi exchanged the first + friendly words they had spoken to each other in weeks, and in full view of + an entranced audience linked arms and strode bravely to and fro, the + former clasping a huge jewel case to her ample bosom, the latter chafing + perceptibly under the weight of an invisible belt stuffed to its capacity + with banknotes and gold. Chilean ladies and Chilean gentlemen, dazzling + Brazilian ladies and pompous Brazilian gentlemen, smug Argentinians, + lordly Castilians, garrulous Portuguese, lofty English gentlemen and + supercilious English ladies, friendly and irrepressible Americans,—all + of them swinging their sea-legs with new-found abandon—clattered + solidly around the wind-swept circuit. New faces appeared in the + procession, new voices were raised with energy, new figures sprang into + existence with marvellous rapidity. It seemed to Percival that the + population doubled and tripled and quadrupled with every throb of the + powerful engines. He saw his “bunkie” of the night before,—the man + who was trying so hard to die and couldn't,—he saw him plunging + along with the throng, pale but valiant, ferociously glaring at every one + who smoked. + </p> + <p> + A small group of American nurses, some young and pretty, others young and + homely, but all of them sprightly and clear-eyed,—nine of them, in + fact—tramped by in “columns of three.” + </p> + <p> + Percival's guardian jerked his head in their direction after they had + passed, and volunteered this bit of information: + </p> + <p> + “Hornswoggled, them girls was. Come all the way down from New York six + months ago. Promised double pay and plenty of work in the American colony. + Sore as crabs, all of 'em. They got double pay all right, all right, but + there was some misunderstandin' as to what single pay was to be to start + off with. Single pay turned out to be just whatever suited the people that + employed 'em, seein's they were nearly seven thousand miles away from God + and up against it, so they're beatin' it back home to volunteer for + service in France. I heard one of 'em say she could save more money + workin' for nothin' in France than she could earn in a year down here at + double pay. What'd you say your name was, young feller?” + </p> + <p> + “Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean your last name.” + </p> + <p> + “That's it.” + </p> + <p> + “Come off! Nobody ever had a last name like that.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to hear what my first name is,—and my middle one, too. + You said a little while ago you'd never seen any one of my size with + bigger and harder muscles. Well, if you knew what my full name is, old + man, you'd understand why I began developing them,—I've got a lot + more too that you can't see,—when I first began going to school.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your other names?” inquired the sailor curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Algernon Adonis,” said Percival. + </p> + <p> + The sailor was silent for a moment, thinking of the proper thing to say. + Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “You're dead right. It takes a heap of muscle to pertect a name like + that.” + </p> + <p> + Three women stopped in front of the two men. Percival kept his eyes + lowered. + </p> + <p> + “Why,—why, Auntie,—I know him,” fell from the lips of one of + the trio. There was not only surprise in her voice but a trace of awe as + well. + </p> + <p> + The swabber looked up quickly. He found himself gazing straight into the + eyes of the speaker. Her lips were parted, her head was bent slightly + forward, her eyes expressed utter incredulity and bewilderment. Her + companion, an elderly lady, and a bespectacled young woman who carried an + arm-load of steamer-rugs, stared not at him but at the girl who had + delivered this startling announcement. + </p> + <p> + “I mean I,—that is, I may be mistaken,” stammered the latter, + suddenly averting her eyes. A wave of crimson swept over her face. + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly,” exclaimed the elderly lady with great positiveness. Turning + to inspect the object under discussion, she sustained a shock that caused + her to stiffen and draw in her breath quickly. + </p> + <p> + Percival was smiling in a most friendly and encouraging manner. He went + farther, and lifted his disreputable white canvas hat. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, goodness!” exclaimed the young lady in a sort of panic. “Are you—is + it really you, Mr. Percival?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival glanced inquiringly at his guard. + </p> + <p> + “That's his name, Miss,” said that worthy. “And that's one of the three + reasons why he's got them muscular arms you're lookin' at. Sorry, though, + but my orders are not to allow any one to speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you crazy, Ruth?” cried the older lady, aghast. “It's the stowaway + every one is talking about. The one who tried to blow up the ship.” + </p> + <p> + The young lady returned Percival's smile,—rather a diffident, + uncertain effort, to be sure, but still a smile,—and murmured + something about night before last at the Alcazar Grand. + </p> + <p> + “What are you saying, Ruth? Do you mean to say you met this man at the + Alcazar Grand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Aunt Julia,” said the other wrinkling her pretty forehead in + perplexity. “He—he danced with me.” + </p> + <p> + “He—you danced with him?” gasped the horrified Aunt Julia. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you remember? Phil Morton introduced him to us. I—I can't + believe my eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe mine,” snapped the elder woman. “I never saw this fellow + before in my life. The idea! Phil Morton having a friend like—You + are mistaken. And people are staring at us.” + </p> + <p> + “Just the same,” said her niece, stubbornly, “I did dance with him, and, + what's more, I danced more than once with him. Didn't I, Mr. Percival?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival, still beaming, again looked at the sailor appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “You can tell it to me,” said the latter, furtively glancing to the right + and left before making the concession. + </p> + <p> + Looking straight into the sailor's eyes, Percival said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss Clinton. I had four dances with you,—and a lemon squash.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, Aunt Julia,” protested the young lady, holding back. + “Would you mind telling me, Mr. Percival, how you happen to be here and in + this plight? You didn't mention sailing on the Doraine.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival, to the sailor: “Neither did you, Miss Clinton. You certainly + are no more surprised than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Why are you on board as a stowaway? Phil Morton told me you belong to an + old Baltimore family and had all kinds of—that is, you were quite + well-off.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percival, to the sailor: “Please don't blush, Miss Clinton. I'm not + the least bit sensitive. Money isn't everything. I seem to be able to get + along without it. Later on, I hope to have the opportunity to explain just + why—” + </p> + <p> + “That'll do,” interrupted the sailor. “Here comes the Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger hove in sight around the corner of the deck building, with + Chief Engineer Gray and the Second Officer. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what to make of you,” said Miss Clinton, sorely puzzled. Her + aunt was clutching her arm. “You seemed so awfully jolly the other night. + And—and just look at you now.” + </p> + <p> + She moved away, followed by the bespectacled young woman and the + steamer-rugs, graceful despite the sudden yank with which her aunt set her + in motion. Percival managed to keep an eye on her till she turned the + corner. Then he sighed. + </p> + <p> + The Captain halted in front of him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you acquainted with Mrs. Spofford and her niece, Percival?” he + inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Clinton has done me the honour to remember meeting me night before + last at the Alcazar Grand, sir. Mrs. Spofford is not so generous.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Captain Trigger reflectively. “You will report at once to + Mr. Gray. He will give you a less public job, as you call it.” A twinkle + came into his eyes. “He doesn't like the hat you're wearing. Nor the + shirt. Nor the boots.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And, by the way, Percival, as soon as you are slightly refurbished I want + you to stroll through the second cabin and if possible identify the two + stewards who came to No. 22. Let me see, was it during the day or at + night?” + </p> + <p> + “Some time during the night, sir. Eleven or half-past, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later he reported to Captain Trigger. “I have seen all of the + stewards, sir, according to Mr. Codge, and I do not recognize any of them + as the men who came to No. 22. I had a fairly good view of them, too, from + beneath the lower berth. They spoke in a language I did not understand—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand German?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I know it when I hear it, however. They were not speaking + German. I may have been wrong, but I came to the conclusion that they were + transferring some one to No. 22. They brought in two suitcases, and left + them when they went out. I—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger brought his clenched fist down on the table with a + resounding, emphatic bang. + </p> + <p> + “Now, we have it! That Chicago detective is right, by gad!” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the small group of officers clustered behind him. Fresh + alarm,—real consternation,—had leaped into the eyes of every + man of them. + </p> + <p> + “Then—then, that means our search isn't over?” cried Mr. Mott, + starting up. + </p> + <p> + “It does! Every inch of this ship,—every damned inch of it, from + stem to stern. Overlook nothing, Mr. Mott. Don't delay a second.” + </p> + <p> + Percival was alone with the agitated Captain an instant later. Trigger's + eyes were rather wild and bloodshot. The younger man's face blanched. He + knew now that the danger was real. He waited for the Captain to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Percival, the two men you saw in 22 were not stewards. They were the men + who jumped overboard. You tell me they left two bags there when they went + out of the room. Well, they were not there this morning when the regular + steward went into the room. They have disappeared. But the contents of + those bags are still somewhere on board this ship. And if they are not + found in time, by gad, sir, we will all be in Kingdom Come before we know + it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + The first explosion occurred at eleven minutes past six. The chart-house + and part of the bridge were blown to pieces. Three dull, splintering + crashes ensued in rapid succession, proving beyond question that the bombs + were set to automatically explode at a given time. One of them wrecked the + engine-room; another blew a great hole in the stern of the ship, above the + water line; the third destroyed the wireless house and carried away a + portion of the deck with it. + </p> + <p> + There were eight in all of these devilish machines in the heart of the + Doraine. Some time prior to the first explosion, the feverish searchers + had uncovered four of them, cunningly planted in the most vital parts of + the ship. Two were taken from the lower hold, one at each end of the + vessel, and two more were found close to the carefully protected section + of the vessel in which a rather insignificant but deadly shipment of high + explosives was stored. + </p> + <p> + The discovery of the four bombs and their immediate consignment to the sea + saved the ship from being blown to bits. With another hour to spare, it is + more than probable the remaining four would have been found, + notwithstanding the amazing cleverness with which they were hidden, so + thorough and so dogged was the search. Confusion, terror, stupefaction and + finally panic followed the successive blasts. The decks were strewn with + people prostrated by the violent upheavals, and many there were who never + got up again. Stunned, dazed, bewildered, those who were able to do so + scrambled to their feet only to be hurled down again and again. Shrieks, + groans, prayers,—and curses,—filled the brief, ghastly + silences between the muffled detonations. The great vessel surged and + rolled and plunged like a tortured animal. + </p> + <p> + The splintering of wood, the rending of plates, the shattering of glass, + and above all this horrid turmoil the mighty roaring and hissing of + steam!... And the wild, gurgling cries of the frantic unfortunates who had + leaped into the sea! + </p> + <p> + Out of the chaos with incredible swiftness came the paralysis of despair, + and out of that slowly but surely groped the never-failing courage of the + men who go down to the sea in ships. Hoarse commands lifted above the + groans and prayers, and strong but shaken figures sprang with mechanical + precision to the posts allotted them. Life-boat after life-boat went down + into the sea that glistened with the slanting rays of an untroubled sun, + low-lying at the end of day. + </p> + <p> + Fire broke out in several places. Down into the bowels of the ship plunged + the resolute, undaunted heroes who remained behind, the chosen complement + reserved for just such an emergency by the far-seeing master. + </p> + <p> + Above the hissing of steam and the first feeble cracklings of flame, rose + the stentorian voice of the Captain from his post at the base of the + demolished bridge. + </p> + <p> + “Fight, men! Fight! Fight! There are dying men below! Stand by! Fight for + them!” + </p> + <p> + He was bloody and almost unrecognizable as he stood there clutching a + stanchion for support. His legs were rigid, his body swayed, but his + spirit was as staunch as the star that had guided him for fifty years + through the trackless waste. + </p> + <p> + And while these doughty, desperate spirits fought the fire and smoke with + every means at their command, down in the suffocating depths of the ship, + braving not only the peril visible and at hand, but the prospect of + annihilation in the event that a belated bomb projected its hideous force + into the nest of high explosives,—while these men fought, the + smiling, placid sea was alive with small white craft that bobbed in the + gleaming sunlight, life-boats crowded to the gunwales with shuddering, + bleak-eyed men, women and children waiting to pick up those who stayed + behind, and who inevitably would be driven overboard by the resistless, + conquering flames. + </p> + <p> + Cruising about at a safe distance from the menacing hull, these boats + managed to rescue a few of the beings who had leaped overboard in the + first mad panic of fear, but many there were who went down never to be + seen again. No boat was without its wounded—and its dead; no boat + was without its stricken, anxious-eyed survivors who watched and prayed + for the salvation of loved ones left behind. With straining eyes they + searched the surface of the sea, peered at the occupants of near and + distant boats, stared at the scurrying figures on the decks of the smoking + steamer, hoping,—always hoping,—and always sobbing out the + endless prayer. + </p> + <p> + At last, as the sun sank below the blue-black horizon, exhausted, + red-eyed, gasping men struggled up from the drenched, smothering interior + of the ship, and hurled themselves, not into the sea, but prone upon the + decks! They had conquered! The scattered, vagrant fires, attacked in their + infancy, while still in the creeping stage, had been subdued. + </p> + <p> + Darkness fell. A chill night air stole out of the east, stealthily + trailing the sun. Will-o'-the-wisp lights bespecked the sea, surrounding + the black hulk that lay motionless in the center of the circle. Lanterns + in a score or more of small boats bobbed fitfully in the gentle swell. + Presently lights appeared on board the Doraine, one here, one there, then + others in twos and threes,—some of them stationary, others moving + slowly from place to place. The life-boats crept closer, still closer. + Then, out from the silent hulk, came the voice of man. It was the voice of + the First Officer, hoarse and unrecognizable, but sharp with authority. + Other voices repeated the commands from various parts of the ship,—commands + to the encircling will-o'-the-wisps. + </p> + <p> + The word came down to the scores who filled the boats that they were to + lie by until sunrise, keeping in close contact with each other and at no + great distance from the ship. The most thorough, careful examination of + the steamer was in progress. If it was found that she was in no danger of + foundering,—and the word was most reassuring,—all of them + would be taken aboard in the morning. Nothing could be done at present. A + few hours more would tell the tale. + </p> + <p> + And then, for the first time since the disaster, the note of the croaker + was heard. Each and every boat contained at least one individual who knew + exactly what ought to be done in a crisis like this. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover addressed the benumbed, unresisting occupants of the boat + into which he had climbed with commendable reluctance as one of the last + persons to leave the ship. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't they begin sending out S. O. S. calls? What's the wireless for, + if not to be used at a time like this? Say, you! Yell up there to some of + those damned muddled-headed idiots and tell them what to do. Tell them + that I say for them to send out calls for help. What's that? What did you + say?” + </p> + <p> + The steward in charge of the boat repeated his remark and Mr. Landover at + once said he would report him to Captain Trigger. + </p> + <p> + “But it won't do any good,” complained the banker despairingly. “Captain + Trigger hasn't got the backbone of a fishworm. He'd let you tell him to go + to hell and never think of jacking you up for it. No wonder we're in the + fix we're in now. If he'd had the sense of a jelly-fish he'd have—Here! + Sit still! You'll upset the boat, you fool! What—What are you going + to do with that oar?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to crack you over the bean with it if you don't take back what + you said about Captain Trigger,” said the steward, very earnestly. “Take + it back, do you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “My God, would you murder me for a little thing like that?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Nicklestick aroused himself from the torpor of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Take it back, Mr. Landover,—please do. If he misses you, he'll get + me sure, it's so dark, and so help me God, I got nothing but the deepest + respect for Captain Trigger. He's a vonderful man, steward. Don't make any + mistake. You hear me say he is a vonderful man? Veil,—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up, Nicklestick,” grated Landover, crouching down behind the + gentleman addressed. + </p> + <p> + The steward sat down. “I'd do it in a minute if it wasn't for the women + an' children in this boat.” + </p> + <p> + “I intend to have every officer on that steamer arrested for criminal + negligence the instant I set foot in New York,” boomed the banker. “I call + upon every one of you, my fellow-passengers, to testify to the utter lack + of precaution taken by the men in charge of that ship. And what effort are + they making to bring help to us now? By gad, if I was in command of that + vessel I'd be shooting wireless calls to every—Great Scott! What's + that?” + </p> + <p> + “That's a rocket, you blamed old fool!” roared the steward. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” gasped the exasperated banker. “Are we having a celebration + with fireworks?” + </p> + <p> + The dull, hapless occupants of the lifeboats watched with fascinated eyes + the first of the giant rockets that whizzed and roared its way up from the + deck of the ship, an endless arrow of fire piercing the night. A loud + report, the scattering of a hundred stars, and then—denser blackness + than before. + </p> + <p> + Morning came. Up out of the east stole a sickly grey. It turned slowly + into pink, and then suddenly the sea once more was blue and smiling. In + the heart of the dancing cordon lay the weirdly camouflaged Doraine, + inert, sinister, as still and cold as death. No smoke issued from her + stacks to cheer the wretched watchers; no foam, no spray leaped from her + mighty bow. She was a great, lifeless thing. Waves lapped gently against + her sides and fell away only to come back again in playful scorn for the + vast object that had rent and baffled them so long. On high fluttered the + Stars and Stripes, gay in the presence of death, a sprightly harbinger of + hope flaunting defiance in the face of despair. + </p> + <p> + Men, stripped to the waist, grimy and shining with the sweat of hours, + moving about in knots of three and four—always in knots of three or + four as if afraid to disintegrate—leaned upon the rail and watched + the approach of the crowded boats, looked down into pallid, anguished + faces with their eager, hungry eyes, eyes that devoured the groups along + the rail. Now and then a glad shout of joy went up from one of the boats, + and a figure in the huddled mass was transformed into a responsive thing + of life. + </p> + <p> + In each of the square, black openings in the hull of the ship stood men + with ropes and ladders. The great steel doors lay flat against the sides, + swung wide to admit this time a human cargo. From the interior of the + vessel came the brisk, incessant clatter of hammers against wood and + steel; from the decks broke the loud, commanding voices of men calling out + directions; from the gliding, slapping boats went up the hearty shouts of + understanding and obedience, the rattling of boat-hooks, the grinding of + oars in the locks, the murmur of voices revived. + </p> + <p> + “Vomen and children first!” was the shrill, oft-repeated exhortation from + one of the boats. + </p> + <p> + And up in the centre of another sprang a fine, imposing figure, from whose + lips rolled these thrilling words: + </p> + <p> + “By God, they're great! They're great, after all! God bless Captain + Trigger and every man-jack of them!” + </p> + <p> + “Get down!” roared his still unpacified critic, the steward. “You'll fall + overboard, you dam' fool!” + </p> + <p> + The gaunt, coatless Mr. Mott commanded the port side of the vessel; Mr. + Codge, the purser, the starboard. Fighting men in the breeches and + leggings of the American Navy; blackened and bandaged stokers, sailors and + landsmen comprised the motley company that stood ready to drag the + occupants of the boats up into the dank, smoke-scented maw of the ship. + </p> + <p> + One by one, in regular, systematic order, the lifeboats came alongside. + There was no confusion, no bungling. They bumped gently against the + towering rows of plates, and, made fast by ropes with ample play, gave up + in time their precious cargoes. No one lifted up his voice in rejoicing, + for there were dead and injured back in the shadows; there were + grief-stricken, anxious men and women crouching out there in the sunshine; + there were limp, unconscious women and half-dead children; and over all + still hung the ominous cloud of catastrophe fat with prophecies of perils + yet to come. + </p> + <p> + They had gone out from a ship filled with a monstrous clangour and + confusion, they were returning to a tomblike hulk, a lonely mass in which + echoes would abound, a thing of sighs and silences, the corpse of a + mammoth that had throbbed yesterday,—but never more. + </p> + <p> + Up in the curving triangle of the forward deck were two long, + canvas-covered rows. The dead! Forty-six twisted, silent forms lying side + by side, some calm in death, others charred and mutilated beyond all + possibility of identification. Every man in the engine-room at the time of + the explosion was now a mangled, unrecognizable thing. Engineers, + electricians, stokers,—all of them wiped out in the flash of an eye,—burnt, + boiled, shattered. Half a dozen women, as many children, lay with the + silent men. + </p> + <p> + The injured had been placed in staterooms on the promenade deck, + regardless of previous occupancy or subsequent claim. There lay the score + and a half of seriously injured, and there toiled the ship's surgeon and + his volunteer helpers. Sailor and merchant, worker and idler, scholar and + dolt, steerage and first cabin, wealth and poverty, shared alike in the + disposition of quarters and shared alike in attention. There was no + discrimination. One life was as good as another to the doctor and his men, + the poor man's moan as full of suffering as that of the rich man, the wail + of the steerage woman as piteous as that of her sister above. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger was one of the injured. He swore a great deal when the + doctor ordered him to bed. Ribs and a broken arm? Why the devil should he + be put to bed for something a schoolboy would laugh at? Mr. Shannon and + two of the younger officers were killed by the explosion that wrecked the + bridge and chart house. Chief Engineer Gray died in the engine-room. + Cruise was blown to pieces in the wireless house. His assistant, the + cripple with the charmed life, was dead. + </p> + <p> + A few seconds before the first explosion took place he blew out his brains + with a big navy revolver. The last seen of Cruise was when he appeared in + the door of his station, an expression of mingled rage and alarm on his + face. Pointing frantically at the figure of his assistant as it shot down + the steps and across the deck, he shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Get that man! Get him! For God's sake, get him!” + </p> + <p> + It all happened in a few seconds of time. The shrill laugh of the fleeing + assistant, the report of the revolver, an instant of stupefaction,—and + then the dull, grinding crash. + </p> + <p> + It will never be known what Cruise had heard or seen in the last moments + of his life. No one on board the Doraine, however, doubted for an instant + that he had discovered, too late, the truth about his misshapen assistant. + They now knew with almost absolute certainty the identity of the odd man + in that devilish trio, the man whose footsteps Percival had heard, the man + who stayed behind to guarantee the consummation of the hideous plot. + Coward in the end, he shirked the death he was pledged to accept. He knew + what was coming. Unlike his braver comrades, he took the simplest way. + </p> + <p> + The count began. Late in the afternoon it was completed. There were + forty-six known dead on board the Doraine, the majority being members of + the crew. Seventeen persons were missing, chiefly from the steerage. + Twenty-nine seriously injured were under the doctor's care. Some of them + would not recover. A hundred or more persons suffered from shock, bruises, + cuts and exposure, but only a few of them required or demanded attention. + In spite of their injuries, they fell to with the spirit that makes for + true heroism and devoted themselves to the care of the less fortunate, or + to the assistance of the sorely-tried officers and men who strove to bring + order out of chaos. + </p> + <p> + Among the survivors were two American surgeons and a physician from Rio + Janeiro. They, with the nurses, all of whom had been saved, immediately + went to the relief of the ship's doctor, and in short order an improvised + hospital was established. There was a remarkable unanimity of + self-sacrifice among the passengers. High and low, they fell to in a + frenzy of comradeship, and worked side by side in whatsoever capacity they + were needed, whether fitted for it or not. No man, no woman, who was able + to lift a helping hand, failed in this hour of need. The bereaved, as well + as those who were untouched by a personal grief, gave all that was in + them, tearfully, grimly, ardently. + </p> + <p> + Menial labour fell to the lot of the lordly but uncomplaining Landover, to + Block and Nicklestick, Jones and Snipe, and even to the precious Signor + Joseppi, who, forgetting his Caruso-like throat, toiled and sweated in the + smoky saloon. + </p> + <p> + Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate, the while he laboured amidst the + wreckage of the after deck, lamented not the cheerless task but the evil + fate that prevented the making of the most spectacular film the world had + ever known. + </p> + <p> + Madame Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky and her dancers; bejewelled Jewesses + and half-clad emigrants; gentle women unused to toil and women who were + born to it; the old and the young—all of them, without exception,—rose + from the depths of despair and faced the rigours of the day with + unflinching courage, gave out of a limitless store of tenderness all that + their strength could spare. + </p> + <p> + And through a neglected, abandoned field of pearls and gold and precious + stones, limped unchallenged the tireless figure of “Soapy” Shay, diamond + thief, a bloody bandage about his head, an exalted light in his + pain-stricken eyes. His one-time captor lay stark and cold in the gruesome + line in the bow of the boat. It was “Soapy” Shay who staggered out of the + rack and smoke with the burly, stricken detective in his arms, and it was + “Soapy” Shay who wept when the last breath of life cased out through his + tortured lips. For of all the company on board the Doraine, there was but + one whom “Soapy” knew, but one who called him by name and shared tobacco + with him,—and that one was William Spinney, the man who was taking + him back to a place where mercy would not be shown. + </p> + <p> + After the sun had set and the decks were dark and deserted except for the + men employed in the gruesome business, the dead were lowered into the sea, + swathed in canvas and weighted with things that were made to kill,—shells + from the gunners' hoard. Swiftly, methodically, one after the other, they + slid down to the black, greedy waters, sank to the grave that is never + still yet always silent, to the vast, unexplored wilderness that stretches + around the world. The thin little missionary from the barren plateaus of + Patagonia and the plump priest from the heart of Buenos Aires monotonously + commended each and every one of them to the mercy of God! + </p> + <p> + The sun came up again in the morning over a smiling, happy sea that licked + the sides of the Doraine with the tenderness of a dog. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + The plight of the hapless steamer could not be disguised. Even the most + ignorant passenger knew that the wrecked engines could not be repaired or + compounded. They knew that the Doraine was completely paralysed. The power + to move at will was for ever lost, the force that had driven her + resistlessly along the chosen path was still. The powerful propellers were + idle, the huge stern-post wrenched so badly that the rudder was useless. + She was adrift, helplessly adrift. Of what avail the wheel and a + patched-up rudder to the mass that lay inert, motionless on the smiling + sea? + </p> + <p> + Every one on board realized, with sinking heart, that the Doraine was to + go on drifting, drifting no man knew whither, until she crossed the path + of a friendly stranger out there in the mighty waste. No cry of distress, + no call for help could go crackling into the boundless reaches. That was + the plight of the Doraine and her people on the mocking day that followed + the disaster, and unless fate intervened that would be her plight for days + without end. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott, temporarily in command, addressed the passengers in the main + saloon, where they had congregated at his request. He did not mince + matters. He stated the situation plainly. It was best that they should + realize, that they should understand, that they should know the truth, in + order that they might adapt themselves to the conditions he was now + compelled of necessity to impose upon them. They were, so to speak, + occupying a derelict. Help might come before nightfall, it might not come + for days. He hoped for the best but he intended to prepare for the worst. + </p> + <p> + Without apology he laid down a rigid set of rules, and from these rules, + he made it perfectly clear, there could be no deviation. The available + supply of food was limited. It was his purpose to conserve it with the + greatest possible care. Down in the holds, of course, was a vast store of + consigned foodstuffs, but he had no authority to draw upon it and would + not do so unless the ship's own stock was exhausted. Passengers and crew, + therefore, would be obliged to go on short rations. “Better to eat + sparingly now,” he said, “than not to eat at all later on.” He concluded + his remarks in this fashion: + </p> + <p> + “Remember that we are all in the same boat. We don't know how long we'll + be drifting like this and we don't know where we're drifting to. It's an + everlastingly big ocean we're on. We ought to thank God we're not at the + bottom of it now. If we're lucky we'll be picked up soon, if not,—well, + it's up to us, every one of us, to make the best of it. We're alive, and + that's certainly something. We'll all find it easier if we keep ourselves + busy. That's why I'm asking you, one and all, to do a good day's work + regularly, one way or another, from now until relief comes. We can't have + any loafers or quitters on board this ship. That means everybody, rich and + poor. You may think I'm putting a hardship on you, seeing as how you have + paid for your passage and all that, but what I'm ordering you to do ain't + a marker to what you'd be doing if you were out there in lifeboats, eight + hundred miles from shore, and—well, we won't go into that. We've got + to make the best of it, my friends. We're up against it good and plenty, + that's the plain facts of the case. There's no use in me saying it's all + going to turn out right in a day or so, because I don't know a da—- + blamed thing about it. We're in God's hands. Maybe it will help to pray, + but I doubt it. All I've got to say is this: go down on your knees as much + as you like, but don't lick!” + </p> + <p> + Signor Joseppi lifted his voice, but not in song. In very bad English he + wanted to know how long the Captain thought it would be before they were + rescued, and when he was informed that it might not be for weeks or even + months, he cried out in worse English that he was ruined. He would have to + violate his contract! No impressario would think of engaging him again! + His wonderful American tour! If he was not rescued within a week—Oh, + my God, the consequences! He did not regret the paltry two thousand a week—for + thirty weeks—but to violate a contract! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott looked rather helpless. He appreciated the fact that Signor + Joseppi was a very great personage, but what was he saying? Was it—could + it be mutiny? + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, Mr. Joseppi,” he broke in, “but if Madame Amori is willing to + take her regular turn at making up berths, I guess it won't hurt you to + help every now and then in the dining-room.” + </p> + <p> + Signor Joseppi did not understand a word of it. He turned to the man at + his elbow for enlightenment. + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “He says you have a perfectly marvellous voice and that he'd give two + thousand any time to hear you sing,” replied his neighbour in excellent + Italian. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the Signor favoured the severe-looking Mr. Mott with a beaming + smile and as deep a bow as he could make in such close quarters. + </p> + <p> + “A most courteous officer,” he said to his neighbour. “It will be a joy to + serve him, my friend. We should, one and all, do what he asks of us, no + matter how mean the task. I, Joseppi,—you have heard of Joseppi, my + friend?—I shall be the example for all of you. Should he say, 'Wash + the dishes, Joseppi,' then will I wash the dishes. I, Joseppi, who never + washed a dish in his life. Should he say, 'Cook the meals, Joseppi,' then + will Joseppi, who never cooked a thing in his life, then will Joseppi cook + the meals. Should he say, 'Joseppi, scrub the floor,' then will I scrub + the floor. Should he say, 'Signor, steer the ship,' then will I do my best + to steer the ship. I who have never steered a ship. So let me be your + example, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “That's fine,” said his neighbour, as they moved off together. “But + supposing he asks you to sing occasionally to amuse the rest of us,—what + then?” + </p> + <p> + “Amuse?” cried the Signor. “Amuse?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, entertain.” + </p> + <p> + The great Joseppi pursed his lips. His brows grew dark with trouble. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but that would be violating my contract,” he said. “My contract + specifically states that under no circumstances may I—” Then + suddenly, as if renouncing a sacred principle, his brow cleared, and he + cried out: “Damn the contract! Joseppi's voice is his own. Joseppi will do + as he pleases with it. Let him but make the request, my friend,—and + Joseppi will sing till he drops from exhaustion.” Lowering his voice to a + confidential undertone, he went on: “And that, my friend, is more than you + will find Careni-Amori willing to do. There is one cold-blooded, grasping + woman for you. Money! She thinks of nothing but money. And flattery! Ah, + how she thrives on flattery. That woman, my friend, beautiful as she is, + has no more heart than a—” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, please,” broke in his listener, in English. “I've got to beat + it.” + </p> + <p> + He had caught sight of a slim young figure at the head of the stairs,—a + girl in a rumpled blue serge tailor-suit and a tan-coloured sport hat + pulled well down over her dark hair. He made his way through the crowd and + caught her up as she passed out on the deck. + </p> + <p> + “I've been terribly worried about you,” he began without other greeting, + planting himself in front of her. “I thought maybe you might have—but, + thank the good Lord, you weren't.” + </p> + <p> + She looked momentarily bewildered. Then she recognized him and held out + her hand. Her face was serious, unsmiling, her voice low and tired. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it dreadful, Mr. Percival? What a terrible experience it has been. + Oh—and I am glad you came through safely, too. But—” as her + eyes narrowed anxiously,-“you were hurt. Your hands?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't very well shake hands with you, Miss Clinton,” said he. “Scorched + a little, that's all. You'd think it was serious, the way they're + bandaged. One of the sailors fixed them up for me last night. I can't tell + you how glad I am that you are all right. And your aunt? Is she—” He + paused. + </p> + <p> + “Auntie is all right, Mr. Percival. She's in bed. Shock and exposure. We + were out there all night. In one of the boats. Katherine,—” her + voice shook a little,—“Katherine is gone. She leaped overboard. I—I + saw her go. I shall never forget it,—never. Aunt Julia's maid. For, + oh, so many years, Mr. Percival.” She spoke in sharp, broken sentences, as + if breathless. “You must have been terribly burned. Your hair,—your + eyes, how bloodshot they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Smoke,” he said succinctly. “Singed on this side only. Really nothing + serious. I got off very lightly.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of the men were frightfully burned,” she said with a shudder. “I am + trying to be a nurse. There are two men in my—in my—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he broke in hastily. “Don't talk about it, Miss Clinton. It's + corking of you to take hold like this. Corking!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about yourself. Where were you when it happened?”' + </p> + <p> + “I hate to admit it, but I was having a bite to eat down in the galley. + You see, they'd somehow forgotten to give me anything to eat,—in the + excitement, of course,—and I had been so busy myself it didn't occur + to me to be hungry till rather late in the day. I managed to get on deck + but not until after the bombs had all gone off. My friend, Mr. Gray,—the + Chief Engineer, you know,—was down in the engine-room. That's how I + got my hands burned. Not badly, I assure you, but—well, they may be + a little scarred. You may not know it, but Mr. Gray and I came from the + same place. Baltimore. He belonged to a fine old family there—and + he'd been very kind to me. Poor fellow! Penned in. They never had a chance + down there. He was—well, he died a few minutes after he was dragged + out here on the deck. His clothes were on fire. But let's not talk about + it. Tell me, is there anything I can do to make you more comfort-able? Or + your aunt? I'm what you might call officer of the deck at present. Mr. + Mott—” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to be in bed, Mr. Percival,” she interrupted sharply. “Your + face is burned, too,—you must be suffering terribly. Wait! Now don't + tell me you are not. I know better. I've seen those other men who were + burned. I—” + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing, I tell you,” he interrupted, almost roughly. “There are + dozens of men worse off than I am, and are they in bed? Not much. This is + no time to lie down, Miss Clinton, if you've got a leg to stand on. See + that little chap over there with his head and hands covered with bandages,—and + barely able to drag his feet after him? He's an American jockey. I don't + know his name. He was blown twenty or thirty feet across the after-deck. + Brought up at the bottom of a companion-way. He's nothing but cuts and + bruises from head to foot. But he's around on his wobbly little pins + today, just the same, trying to edge in on some sort of a job. Couldn't + keep him in bed.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Clinton's eyes were full of wonder and incredulity. “I cannot + understand it,” she said. “My cousin was with the American Ambulance in + France. He says that the slightest flesh wound sends a soldier to the + hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “They haven't any choice in the matter. Besides, it isn't the same. Poor + devils, they may have been at it in the trenches for weeks and months. A + wound of any sort means a pleasant vacation. Still,” he went on after a + moment, a faint derisive smile on his lips, “we had a big husky up in Camp + who insisted on going to bed every time he had the nosebleed.” + </p> + <p> + She was looking into his blood-shot eyes, infinite pity and concern in her + own. + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me dress your hands, Mr. Percival, whenever it is necessary? + I am getting used to it now.” + </p> + <p> + “It's good of you, Miss Clinton,” he replied gratefully. “But I think + you'd better stick to the fellows who really need attention. Don't add an + extra ounce to your burden. You'll need all of your strength and courage + to face the demands of the next few days. Those chaps have just begun to + suffer. They're going to have a tight squeeze getting through,—if + they get through at all. You have not answered my question. Is there + anything I can do for you or your aunt?” + </p> + <p> + “No,—not a thing,” she said. “We are quite all right. As Mr. Mott + said, we are all in the same boat, Mr. Percival. We've got to make up our + minds to that. We can't have the comforts and the luxuries we had day + before yesterday. Whatever is left of them, we must share with others.” + </p> + <p> + “Even with stowaways,” he ventured, but not fatuously. + </p> + <p> + “No one is likely to forget how our only stowaway came by his wounds,” she + said simply. “Despite your modesty, I am quite certain who it was that + carried the Chief Engineer on deck, Mr. Percival. While his clothes were + burning, too.” + </p> + <p> + Percival turned his face away and many seconds passed before he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” he said at last, a trifle unsteadily, “at regular intervals + the gun up there in the bow is to be fired. You must not be alarmed when + it goes off. There is a chance that some ship may hear the report. The + British have a few warships down here, you know. They would investigate if + they got word of big guns being fired anywhere in these parts. Mr. Mott + will give warning when the gun is to be fired, so that every one will + understand. I—I just thought I'd tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Good-bye for the present. I must get back to my wounded.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep your spirits up,” he said. “That's the principal job now, Miss + Clinton. Good-bye,—and thank you.” + </p> + <p> + He watched her as she moved off down the deck. He could not help noticing + that her figure drooped perceptibly. In his mind's eye he saw her as she + was but two days before, straight, graceful, full of the joy of living, + with a stride that was free and swinging. He recalled her lovely, + inquiring grey eyes as she stared at him on that ignominious afternoon, + the parted red lips and the smile that came to them, the smartly dressed + hair, the jaunty hat, the trim sport suit of tan-coloured jersey—he + recalled the alluring picture she made that day, and sadly shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Poor girl,” he said to himself, and walked slowly in the opposite + direction, favouring his left leg. + </p> + <p> + He went down to see the Captain. The old seadog was stretched out in his + berth, a look of pain and utter despair in his eyes. One of the Russian + dancers, a rather pretty girl of a distinctly Slavic type, was cleaning up + the room. The ship's doctor had just left. + </p> + <p> + “Feeling a bit more comfortable, sir?” inquired the young man. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd get this girl out of here,” growled Captain Trigger with + difficulty. “I want to swear.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be all right to go ahead with it, sir,” said Percival. + “She doesn't understand a word of English.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain shook his head. “I'll let it wait.” Then, looking at his + visitor's bandaged hands: “How are your hands, my lad?” + </p> + <p> + “Fairly easy. The doctor says the burns are not deep. Mr. Mott asked me to + step in and see you, sir, and give you my opinion as to the bombs. You + see, I've had a great deal of experience with high explosives. There isn't + the slightest doubt in my mind that you found and got rid of the worst of + them. The officer in charge of the gun-crew agrees with me. They planted + the big ones, the ones that were to destroy the ship, down in the hold, + where there was less chance of discovery. The others, I am convinced, were + much smaller. It would have been impossible to hide a bomb of any + noticeable size in any of the places where the explosions occurred. They + went about it very cunningly, very systematically. Of course, no one saw + the bombs that exploded, but judging by the actual results, they could not + have been very powerful.” + </p> + <p> + “And I also,” said the Captain, “thank God we dug out the big ones.” He + scowled forlornly. “Dr. Cullen says I am in for a week of this, Percival. + You don't think so, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Percival smiled. “I am more or less of an expert on explosives, sir,” he + replied. + </p> + <p> + “Umph,” grunted Captain Trigger. “I see. Just the same, I think I'll be up + and about by tomorrow. If I were your age, young man, you can bet I + wouldn't be lying here in this bed.” + </p> + <p> + “On the other hand, if I were your age, Captain Trigger,” said Percival, + “I'd probably have sense enough to do exactly what the doctor ordered.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger's mouth fell open. + </p> + <p> + “Well, of all the damned—” he began, and then swallowed hard. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + For three days and nights the Doraine drifted lazily in a calm and + rippling sea, always to the southward. The days were bright and warm, the + nights black and chill. It was the spring of the year in that zone. + Without adequate navigation instruments, Mr. Mott was forced to rely to a + great extent on speculation. He was able to make certain calculations with + reasonable accuracy, but they were of little real significance. It was, of + course, possible to determine the general direction in which they were + drifting, and the speed. They were slowly but surely edging into the + strong west wind drift. The Falkland Islands would soon be off to the + right, with South Georgia and the Sandwich group farther to the south and + east, the southernmost tip of Africa to the left. + </p> + <p> + Not a sail had been sighted, not a sign of smoke appeared on the spotless + horizon. At regular intervals the gun on the forward deck boomed thrice in + quick succession, startling the lifeless hulk into a sort of spasmodic + vitality. Then she would sink back once more into the old, irksome + lethargy, incapable of resisting the gentlest wave, submissive to the whim + of the slightest breeze. The ship's carpenter and his men were making slow + headway in the well-nigh impossible task of repairing the rudder. Attempts + were being made to rig up makeshift sails to replace those licked from the + supplemental spars by flames that had earned considerable progress along + the roof of the upper deck building before they were subdued. Blackened, + charred masts and yards, stripped of rigging, reared themselves like pines + at the edge of a fire-swept forest. Sail-makers and riggers laboured + stubbornly, but the work was slow and the means of restoration limited. + </p> + <p> + The occupants of the derelict had settled down to a dull, almost dogged + state of resignation. There were several deaths and burials, incidents + that made but little impression on the waiting, watchful survivors. Each + succeeding day brought forth additional watchers to swell the anxious + throng,—resolute and sometimes ungovernable men who, defying their + wounds and the nurses, refused to stay where they could not have a hand in + all that was going on. + </p> + <p> + Back of all this pitiful courage, however, lurked the unholy fear that + they might be left to their fate in case the ship had to be hurriedly + abandoned. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott watched the weather. Every seaman on board the Doraine scanned + the cloudless sky with searching, anxious eyes. They sniffed the steady + wind that blew them farther south. Always they scanned the sky and sniffed + the wind. + </p> + <p> + “It's got to come sometime,” repeated Captain Trigger, after each report + from Mr. Mott. + </p> + <p> + “I've known weather like this to last for weeks,” said the First Officer. + </p> + <p> + “In the South Pacific, yes,” said the Captain grimly. “But we're in the + South Atlantic, Mott.” + </p> + <p> + On the sixth day the barometer began to fall. The breeze stiffened. The + sea became choppy, and white-caps danced fitfully over the greenish + stretches, growing wilder and wilder under the whip of a flouting wind. + The two patchwork sails on the lumbering Doraine flapped noisily for + awhile, as if shaking off their tor-por, then suddenly grew taut and fat + with prosperity. The twisted, half-jammed rudder,—far from worthy + despite the efforts of its repairers,—whiningly obeyed the man at + the wheel, and once more the ship felt the caress of the deep on her + cleaving bows. + </p> + <p> + The horizon to the north and west seemed to draw nearer, the contrast + between the deepening blue of the water and the clear azure of the + contracting dome more sharply defined. The sky that had been cloudless for + days still remained barren, but the sailor knew what lay beyond the + clear-cut rim of the world. The man of the sea could look far beyond the + horizon. He could see the ugly clouds that were even now speeding down + from the north, invisible as yet but soon to creep into view; he could see + the mighty billows on the other side of that distant line; he could hear + the roar and shriek of the tempest that was still hundreds of miles away. + It was the matter of but a few hours before the wind and the billows would + rush up to smite the Doraine with all their might under the cover of a + black and storm-rent sky. And what was to become of the vessel, + floundering in the path of the hurricane? + </p> + <p> + Late afternoon brought the forerunner of the gale, a whistling, howling + squall that frantically strove, it would seem, to outrace the baleful + clouds. Then the Doraine was in the thick of the furious revel of sea and + sky, plunging, leaping, rolling like a monstrous cork.... + </p> + <p> + How she managed to weather the storm, God knows, and He alone. At the + mercy of wave and wind, she was tossed and hammered and racked for two + frightful days and nights, and yet she remained afloat, battered, smashed, + raked from stem to stern, stripped of everything the tempest could wrench + from her in its fury. And yet on the third day, when the storm abated, the + sturdy ship was still riding the waves, flayed but un-conquered, and the + baffled sea was licking the sides of her once more with servile though + deceitful tenderness. + </p> + <p> + But there was water in the hold. The ship was leaking badly. + </p> + <p> + Up from the stifling interior straggled the unhappy inmates. They looked + again upon the unbelievable: a smiling, dancing sea of blue under a canopy + clean and spotless. It was unbelievable. Even the stouthearted Captain and + the faithful mate, blear-eyed and haggard from loss of sleep, were filled + with wonder. + </p> + <p> + “I can't understand it,” muttered Mr. Mott a dozen times that day, shaking + his head in a bewildered sort of way. “I can't understand how she did it. + By right, she ought to be at the bottom of the ocean, and here she is on + top of it, same as ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe in God, Mr. Mott?” asked the Captain solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said Mr. Mott emphatically. After a moment he added: “I've been a + long time coming to it, Captain Trigger, but I do. Nothing short of an + Almighty Being could have steered this ship for the past two days.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain nodded his head slowly, his gaze fixed on something above and + far beyond the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it's too much to ask of Him, though,” said he, audibly + completing a thought. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott evidently had been thinking of the same thing, for he said: + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry to say it's gained about two feet on the pumps since last + night.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger's face was very grave. “That means a couple of days more + at the outside.” His eyes rested speculatively on the three lifeboats + still hanging above the starboard rail. There was another being repaired + on the port side. “More than six hundred of us on board, Andrew.” His head + dropped suddenly, his chin twitched. Mr. Mott looked away. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it will come to that,” said he, an odd note of confidence + in his voice. “'Tain't likely, old friend, that God would see us safely + through all we've had to tackle and then desert us in the end. Something's + bound to turn up. I've a feeling,—a queer feeling,—that we're + going to pull out of this all right. I know it looks mighty hopeless, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Just the same, Mr. Mott,” broke in the Captain, lifting his head and + setting his jaw, “you'd better set all available hands to work on the + rafts immediately. It's true God has helped us through a lot, but it + strikes me we'd better be on the safe side and help God a little at this + stage of the game. He is wonderful, Andrew, but He isn't wonderful enough + to keep man afloat very long unless man himself builds the raft. So don't + lose a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Anxious, inquiring eyes followed the Captain and his First Officer + wherever they went. On all sides were silent, beaten people who asked no + questions, for they were afraid of the answers. Sick, dazed, haggard, they + stared hopelessly, drearily out over the water; for all that their faces + revealed the end was near at hand and they cared but little. They had been + through one hell; death could bring nothing worse. + </p> + <p> + Here and there a stout-hearted optimist appeared among them, but his very + cheerfulness seemed to offend. They did not want to hear his silly, stupid + predictions that something was “sure to turn up.” They knew that water was + coming into the hold; they knew that there were but four lifeboats and + seven hundred men and women; they knew that the Doraine was going down in + a very few hours; they knew that the Captain had given up all hope of + rescue. Nothing could “turn up” now but death. + </p> + <p> + Madame Obosky had taken a great fancy to Algernon Adonis Percival, and for + a most peculiar reason. He had, it appears, abused her roundly on the + first night of the storm for venturing on deck against orders, compelling + him to risk what he considered a very precious life in a successful effort + to drag her back to safety. As a matter of fact, he did not drag her back + to safety. That feat was accomplished by two sailors who managed to reach + both of them before another devastating wave came up to tear his grip + loose from the broken rail to which he clung with one bandaged hand while + he kept her from sliding into the sea with the other. + </p> + <p> + He was very angry. In the first place, his hands hurt him dreadfully, and + in the second place she had forced him to disobey orders by going out to + save her. He did not mutter his complaints. He told her in plain and + violent English what he thought of her, and if she went out there again + he'd be damned happy to let her drown. + </p> + <p> + Now, it had been some time since any man had had the hardihood or temerity + to upbraid Madame Obosky. No male had cursed her since she left Petrograd,—and + that was four years ago. She had been cursed often enough by her own sex,—professionally, + of course,—but the men she had encountered since leaving Russia were + either too chivalrous or too cowardly to abuse her, and she missed it + terribly. + </p> + <p> + She had gone through a very hard school in order to become one of the + principal dancers in her land. Teachers had cursed her, teachers had + beaten her,—and they always were men. + </p> + <p> + When she was eighteen she married a lion-tamer. Who would have thought + that a man who trained lions could be gentle and mild, and as tame as the + beasts he had beaten for years? She was barely nineteen when he died, + quite suddenly. There was a dark rumour that she had poisoned him. True or + false, the rumour persisted, and she soon became one of the most popular + dancers in the Empire. For three years she had a manager who treated her + so vilely, so contemptuously that she tried to kill his wife, whereupon + the unnatural husband refused to have anything more to do with her. + </p> + <p> + She was dancing in Germany when the War broke out, but succeeded in + getting over into Holland within a week or two, thereby escaping what she + was pleased to describe as “something zat no woman could endure, no matter + how long she have live' in Russia.” Paris and London had treated her + kindly, courteously, but that was to be expected, she repined, because all + of the real men were off at the front fighting. Instead of being scowled + at and ordered about by managers and orchestra leaders, or brow-beaten by + hotel-clerks and head-waiters, she met with nothing but the most servile + politeness,—due, she was prone to argue, to the unquestioned + decadence of the French and English races. They were a bloodless lot, + those Frenchmen and Englishmen. + </p> + <p> + It was the same in Rio Janeiro, Buenos Aires and Santiago,—and it + would be even worse in New York, Chicago and San Francisco. The Americans, + she had heard, were the worst of them all. They didn't know the first + thing about the majesty of sex. The Indian, she understood, was an + exception. From all accounts, he knew how to treat his woman. + </p> + <p> + She was homesick. Her heart leaped with joy when she discovered in + Percival what she believed to be a domineering, masterful man. He had been + neither servile, nor polite, nor afraid. He had treated her,—at + least for an illuminating, transcendent ten minutes,—as if she were + the dirt under his feet,—and he was an American at that. True, he + had apologized a little later on, and had blushed quite becomingly in + doing so, but nothing,—nothing in the world,—would ever make + her believe that he was not the sort of man who could be depended upon to + put a woman in her place and keep her there. He might apologize until he + was black in the face and still be unable to take back the words he had + uttered. Notwithstanding that he, in his apology, professed to have + mistaken her in the darkness for one of the Portuguese immigrant women who + didn't understand a word of English, she forgave him quite humbly, and + that was going pretty far for Olga Obosky, whose identity ought not to + have been a matter of doubt, even on the darkest of nights. + </p> + <p> + She was a lithe, perfectly formed young woman, beautiful in an unusual + way. Her body was as sinuous as that of a woodland nymph. Indeed, in one + of her most spectacular dances, she appeared as a nymph, barefooted, + bare-legged, and,—as Mrs. Spofford caustically remarked,—bare-faced. + She possessed the marvellously clear, colourless complexion found only + among the purely Slavic women. Her lips were red and sensuous, her eyes + darkly mysterious and brooding, her hair as black as the raven's wing. + </p> + <p> + When she smiled her face became strikingly alive, radiant, transforming + her into a jolly, good-natured, wholesome girl in whom not the faintest + trace of the carnal was left. Every move, every thought, every impulse was + feminine; her imagination was feminine; she cast the spell of her + femininity over all with whom she came in contact. Primitively sensuous, + she was also primitively wary,—and so she was ineffably feminine. + </p> + <p> + Prior to the time of her dramatic encounter with the American, she had + favoured him with no more than a glance or two of curiosity. He was a + stowaway; for a brief while he was suspected of being involved in the plot + to blow up the ship. That was enough for her. Twice she had seen Miss + Clinton talking with him, and once, just before the storm set in, she had + paused to watch the young American girl renew the bandages on his hands + after dressing the burns. Half an hour after he had apologized for + speaking so roughly to her, she decided that it was her duty to hunt him + up and minister to him. The ship was rolling terribly, the din of the + elements was deafening, but Olga Obosky was not a faint-hearted person. + She went forth boldly, confidently. Terrified, clinging observers + marvelled at her sure-footedness, at the graceful way in which her sinuous + body bent itself to the perilous heavings of the vessel. + </p> + <p> + She found him in the reading-room, seated in a corner. Miss Clinton was + readjusting the bandage on one of his hands. Half a dozen people were in + the room, manfully defying the turmoil that had sent nearly every one else + to bed in terror and distress. Without hesitation the dancer joined the + couple in the corner. Her smile was engaging; a faint line between her + eyebrows signified the concern she felt for him. + </p> + <p> + WEST WIND DRIFT + </p> + <p> + Miss Clinton looked up from her work. Her smile was politely accusative,—and + brief. + </p> + <p> + “It is all my fault,” began Madame Obosky, standing before them, her feet + wide apart, her knees bent slightly to meet the varying slants and lurches + of the vessel. She spoke the English language confidently and well. Her + accent, which was scarcely noticeable, betrayed the fact that she had + mastered French long before attempting English. There was a piquant + boldness in the occasional misplacing of words and in the haphazard + construction of sentences. She was unafraid. + </p> + <p> + “I have subject him to much pain and discomfort,” she went on, addressing + the girl. “Those poor hand! It is I who should kiss them, Mademoiselle, + not you.” + </p> + <p> + “Kiss them?” gasped Miss Clinton. + </p> + <p> + “Of no doubt,” said Madame Obosky readily. “Do they not pain because of + me? Should I not kiss the hand who snatch me from the horrible death? From + the Kingdom Come, as the doctor he say to me such a little time ago. And + you, Mademoiselle, who have not been save by him from the Kingdom Come, + you attend his hands and make him to be greatly comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “I am merely dressing the burns, Madame Obosky,” said the other, coldly. + “I have done as much for the other poor fellows who—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know,” broke in the Russian, smiling. “You must not be offend + with me if I speak your language so badly.” + </p> + <p> + “It strikes me you speak it most acceptably,” interposed Percival. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” she asked abruptly. “I have heard you called the + stowaway. No one has speak your name to me.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Percival,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pretty name,” said she, dubiously. “But surely you do not approve + of me to call you Percival so quick. What is the other name, the name I am + to—” + </p> + <p> + “That's the trouble with a name like mine. It sounds so beastly informal + when you leave off the Mister, and it sounds as if you'd been a servant in + the family for at least one generation if you stick it on. If you could + only call me Monsieur Percival, or Senor Percival, or even Herr Percival, + it wouldn't seem so bad, but Mister Percival,—well, it's pretty + soft, isn't it, Miss Clinton?” + </p> + <p> + “Please hold your hand still, Mr. Percival,” ordered the girl. She smiled + up at the puzzled dancer. “His name is Mr. Percival, Madame Obosky. That's + the poor creature's last name.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. Then even you, Mademoiselle, may not call him Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not call him Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, she's known me such a very short time,” explained the subject of + these remarks. + </p> + <p> + For a few moments Madame Obosky watched the bandaging process in silence. + When she spoke again it was to say: + </p> + <p> + “You are so skilful, so gentle, Mademoiselle. I am taking a lesson in + gentleness from you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite simple, Madame. I am very awkward. I have had no experience. + But if we ever live to see home again, I shall prepare myself at once for + work in France. We are needed over there. We will be needed more than + ever, now that America has gone in. Our own soldiers are over there, God + bless them.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Obosky gave her a pitying look. + </p> + <p> + “You may thank your God that you do not live in a land of soldiers, + Mademoiselle. If you did, you would not be so eager to nurse them back to + life. Do I shock you? Voila! When you train a boy to be a soldier, as the + boys are trained in my country and in Germany, you make an animal of him,—and + not a very nice animal at that. You nurse him back to life and strength + and in return for your kindness he outrages you, and goes his way + rejoicing. No, I do not like the soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Clinton did not look up. Percival stared at the Russian for a moment + and then observed: + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you can say that of the French or the English, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. “Quite true. But the French and the English, + Mr. Percival, are decadent races,” she said coolly, as if there were + nothing more to be said on the subject. “Please, Mademoiselle,” she went + on, briskly, “will you not let me see how you have prepared his hands? I + mean, how have you,—is it right to say fixed them?” + </p> + <p> + “Dressed them, you mean, Madame Obosky.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. First you undress them, then you dress them, is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + Ruth Clinton laughed. The woman was quaint. + </p> + <p> + “I am about to begin on the left hand. You may watch me, if you care to do + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Will it not make you embarrass?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I be embarrassed?” inquired Ruth, flushing. + </p> + <p> + “I have said the wrong word,” lamented the other. “Nervous,—zat,—that + is the word.” + </p> + <p> + “They're not very lovely things to look at,” said Percival. “All red and + blistery and greasy. Miss Clinton is a regular heroine to tackle 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “I have witnessed some very terrible sights, Mr. Percival,” said the + Russian, her eyes narrowing. “Have you ever seen a little Jewish girl,—but + no, Mademoiselle, no! I have catch the look in your eyes. I shall not tell + you what I have seen. Go on! I shall be silent and take my first lesson.” + </p> + <p> + Closely, intently she watched the process. When it was all over and the + bottle containing ointment had been restored to the patient's pocket, she + spread out her hands and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “It is not difficult. May I inquire where the gauze bandages are to be + obtained, Miss Clinton? And do you always use the same safety pins?” + </p> + <p> + She arose early the next morning. Rousing her maid, she ordered her to + apply to the ship's surgeon for bandages and to fetch them to her at once. + </p> + <p> + “I know,—yes, I know. You are dying, but do as I tell you. This + instant! Why should you, a great hulking beast of a woman, be dying every + minute of the day while I, not half your size, am tingling all over with + life? Go!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Madame,” groaned the wretched woman, rolling her eyes, “I shall be + dashed to pieces against the walls. I cannot stand. My legs will not hold + me up. They—” + </p> + <p> + “Enough! That is no excuse. My legs manage to hold me up.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Madame, it is my legs I am speaking of. My legs are not like yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Any fool can see that,” retorted her mistress, and the ungainly maid + staggered out on her mission. + </p> + <p> + Later on, supplied with a roll of gauze, Madame Obosky set out in quest of + her preserver. Even the veterans among the seamen gazed upon her in + wondering admiration as she made her way about the ship. She was a + revelation to them. The increasing fury of the storm had driven all save + the hardiest sailors and a few of the non-praying male passengers to their + rooms. Now and then one or two of the courageous, devoted nurses appeared + in the corridors, reeling from patient to patient, but except for them the + ship seemed entirely bereft of women. Small wonder then that the lithe, + undaunted Russian created a sensation among the sailors who themselves + were cold with dread. + </p> + <p> + She discovered him at last, coming up the steps from the devastated engine + room. He was with Mr. Mott and several other half-dressed men. Their faces + were grave,—more serious than ever. They had been down to + investigate the leak. Percival was stripped to the waist. The glare of the + lanterns fell upon his broad shoulders and powerful arms, bronzed and + burnished by the sun of the high hills. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” she said, laying her hand on one of his brawny arms, “I have with + me the bandages.” She sent a swift glance over him, and smiled. “But I see + you have not the bottle. Is it in your cabin, Mr. Percivail?” + </p> + <p> + He flushed darkly under his coat of tan. His companions stared for a + moment, and then went on. + </p> + <p> + “I am busy,” he said. “I haven't the time now, Madame Obosky. Thank you, + just the same.” Then a sense of loyalty to the girl who had been kind to + him impelled him to add: “Besides, Miss Clinton has been taking care of my + hands. She has got used to dressing them, so I—” + </p> + <p> + “But it is my duty now,” she protested. “She owes so little to you and I + so much. Come, let us procure the lotion. Where is your cabin?” + </p> + <p> + He held back. “You can't go to my cabin.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” she exclaimed, in surprise. “Does not Miss Clinton go to + your cabin?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she does not!” + </p> + <p> + “But she goes to the cabins of other men who are wounded. I have see her + with my own eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “That's different. They can't come to her.” + </p> + <p> + She looked searchingly into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” she said after a moment. “You are in love with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ridiculous,” he exclaimed, scowling. + </p> + <p> + “And so you prefer to have her fix your hands. I see, my friend. Voila! If + so is the case, I am outcast.” + </p> + <p> + “But, confound it, it isn't the case,” he cried. “It's simply this: I + wouldn't for the world have her feel that I am not grateful, and that's + exactly what it would look like if I allowed you or any one else to butt + in, Madame Obosky.” + </p> + <p> + “Butt in?” she said, a puzzled look in her dark eyes. “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “It's English for interfere,” said he, shortly. + </p> + <p> + She removed her hand from his arm. He was conscious of the abrupt + termination of an exquisite thrill. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said, lifting her chin. “I shall not interfere.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, please,” he said. “It's mighty good of you. Please don't + think me ungracious. You understand, however,—don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not,” she replied, shaking her head slowly. Suddenly her eyes + widened. “Is it because I dance in my bare feet, in my bare legs, that you + think so vilely of me?” + </p> + <p> + He stared. “Good Lord! I don't think vilely of you, Madame Obosky. I + wasn't even aware that you danced in your bare feet and legs.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never seen Obosky dance?” she cried in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + She frowned. “Then, my friend, I was wrong in what I say just now. Most + men who have seen me dance think I am a bad woman, and so they either + covet me or despise me. If you have not had ze pleasure of seeing me, Mr. + Percivail, you do not either covet me or despise me. That is fine. It is + good to know that you do not despise me.” Observing the expression in his + eyes, she went on calmly. “Oh, yes, I shall be very much please to have + you covet me. Zat—that is all right. But if you despise me,—no, + no, zat would be terrible.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment he was dashed. He did not know how to take her remark. She + was a new, a strange type to him. After a sharp, quick look into her eyes, + however, he came to the conclusion that she was absolutely sincere. So far + as she was concerned, it was as if she had said nothing more outrageous + than: “I shall be please to consider you one of my admirers.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Madame,” he said, smiling, “permit me to express the hope that + both of us may go on to the end of our days without having our peace of + mind disturbed.” + </p> + <p> + She looked puzzled for a moment, and then favoured him with her broad, + good-natured smile. + </p> + <p> + WEST WIND DRIFT 85 + </p> + <p> + “Spoken like a Frenchman,” she cried, and added, “and with equal + sincerity, I fear. Go your way, Monsieur Percivail. I shall keep my gauze. + Some day when we are very old people and very old friends I may then be + permitted to bandage your hands. At present, however, the risk is too + great, eh? I am so inexperience. I might by accident tie your hands in my + clumsiness, and zat—that would make so much trouble for Miss Clinton + to untie zem,—yes?” + </p> + <p> + Now there was mockery in her eyes. His face hardened. + </p> + <p> + “I must be on my way,” he said curtly. “We have been looking things over + down below. The Captain is waiting for our report.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed and started off. She swung along at his side. + </p> + <p> + “What have you discover, Mr. Percivail?” she inquired anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “That, Madame Obosky, is something that will have to come from Captain + Trigger.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. That means it is bad. I see.” + </p> + <p> + The lurching of the ship threw her body against his. She righted herself + promptly, but did not reveal the slightest confusion nor utter a word of + apology. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you're a cool one!” he exclaimed. “I don't believe you know the + meaning of fear. Don't you realize, Madame Obosky, that we are in the + gravest peril? Don't you know this ship has but one chance in a thousand + to pull through?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my friend, but it has the one chance, has it not? Surely I know the + meaning of fear. I am afraid of rats and snakes and thieves—and + drunken soldiers. I am afraid of death,—terribly afraid of death. + Oh, yes, I know what fear is, Mr. Percivail.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, why don't you show it now?” he cried. “Good Lord, I don't mind + confessing that I'm scared half to death. I don't want to die like this,—like + a rat in a trap.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not going to die,” she proclaimed. “I too would be groaning + and praying in my bed if I thought we were going down to the bottom of zis + dreadful ocean. But we are not. I have no fear. We shall come out all + right on top, and some day we will laugh and tell funny stories about how + everybody else was frightened but us,—us apiece, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're a wonder! And how the deuce do you manage to keep your feet + with the ship rolling like this?” + </p> + <p> + “Two things I have been taught, since I am ten years old. First, to keep + my head, and second to keep my feet. In my profession, one must do both. + You will always find me doing that. Good-bye,—we part here. You will + not forget zat—that I have retain the bandage for you? And you will + not ever despise me?” + </p> + <p> + As she turned away a roll that must have caused the wallowing vessel to + list thirty-five degrees at the very least, sent her headlong across the + passage. She slipped down in a heap. The same lurch had sent him reeling + against the wall some distance away. She sat up but did not at once + attempt to arise. Instead she clutched frantically at her skirt to draw it + down over her shapely ankles and calves. In the lantern light he saw the + dismayed, shamed look in her eyes and the vivid blush of embarrassment + that suffused her pale cheeks. As the ship rolled back, he moved forward + to assist her, but she sprang lightly to her feet and hurried on ahead of + him, disappearing around a corner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by gosh!” he muttered aloud in his surprise. “And she dances half + naked before thousands of people every night! Can you beat it! The last + person in the world you'd think would care a whoop, and she turns out to + be as finicky about her legs as your grandmother. Women certainly are + queer.” + </p> + <p> + With this profound comment on the inconsistency of the sex, he took + himself off in the direction of the Captain's quarters,—a forward + cabin which served in lieu of the dismantled bridge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + He saw but little of her during the next forty-eight hours. She seemed to + avoid him. At any other time and in other circumstances he undoubtedly + would have resented her indifference,—a very common and natural + masculine failing,—but in these strenuous hours he was too fully + occupied with the affairs of life and death. Once she stopped him to + inquire if Miss Clinton was still able to dress his wounds. + </p> + <p> + “Once a day,” he replied. “She's even pluckier than you are, Madame + Obosky.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes narrowed. “Indeed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, because she believes we are going to die—every one of us. It + takes pluck to keep going when you've got that sort of thing to face, + doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Her gesture took in the dozen or more men within range of her vision. “It + should take no more pluck to keep a woman going than a man, my friend. You + do not call yourself plucky, do you? I do not call myself plucky. On the + contrary, I call myself a coward. I am afraid to stay in my stateroom. I + like to be out in the open like zis. One has to be very, very brave, Mr. + Percivail, to lie in one's bed all alone and think that death is waiting + just outside the thin little walls. Miss Clinton is splendid, but she is + not plucky. She is as I am: afraid of the darkness, afraid to be alone, + afraid to be where she cannot know and see all zat is happening. She has a + woman's courage, just as I have it,—if you please. It is the courage + that depends so much on the courage of others. You think I am brave. I am + brave because I am with trained, efficient men. But if the Captain were to + come to me now as I stand here, and say zat the ship is to sink in ten + minutes and that we all must go down with her, would I face it bravely? + No! I would throw myself down on the floor and scream and pray and tear my + hair. Why? Because the men had given up. I am kept up by the courage of + others. That is the courage of woman. She must be supported in her pain, + in her suffering, in her courage.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you put it that way, there are very few men who would take such + an announcement from the Captain calmly.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not, my friend. But if there were room for but few in the boats, + who would stay behind and go down with the ship? Nine out of every ten of + the men. Why? Not because they are all courageous, I grant you, but + because of the horrible conceit that makes them our masters. Pride and + conceit constitute what stands for courage in most men. The wild animal + has no conceit, he has no pride. Does the male lion rush out to be shot in + place of his mate? He do not. He sneaks off in the high reeds and leaves + her to take care of herself. The Captain of this steamer is so full of + pride zat he will stay on it till it goes under the wave. It is not + courage, Mr. Percivail. It is his pride in the power zat—that God + has give to his sex. These men here,—you, my friend,—face the + danger now so unflinching for why? Because for ages and ages you have + believe in and depend upon the man beside you, the men around you. Zat is + the difference between man and woman. Woman believes in and depends on + man. She has no faith in her own sex. So, you see, my friend, when I say I + am brave and you say Miss Clinton is plucky, it is all because we have men + about us who are so proud and conceited zat they will die before they will + admit that they are not as helpless and as weak as we are in times like + zis.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be right,” he mused, struck by her argument. “It's usually pride + that makes a man stand up and fight another, even when he knows he's sure + to be beaten. It's neither confidence nor courage. It's just plain fear of + being a coward.” + </p> + <p> + “You will admit then that I understand the wonderful male animal which + struts on two legs and rules all the other animals of the world, eh? It is + the only animal in the whole big world zat—that is completely + satisfied with itself. So now, Mr. Percivail, you have the secret of the + so-called courage of the male of our species.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope all women haven't gone into the subject so deeply,” he said, with + a rueful smile. “You make rather small potatoes of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, do not say that,” she cried, “for, alas, I am denied potatoes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” he said, laughing, “if all women understood us as well as + you do, we wouldn't rule the world very much longer. They'd yank us off + the pedestal and revile us forevermore.” + </p> + <p> + “But you do not understand women, my friend. Did we not bring you into the + world? Are you not our sons, and therefore begotten to be kings? We may + despise our husbands, we may loathe our brothers and our fathers, we + women, but our sons are the gods we worship. My dear Mr. Percivail, women + will go on being ruled to the end of time unless they cease populating the + world with sons. The mother of the man is the humblest subject of the son + and yet the proudest. The mothers of kings, of emperors, of presidents,—do + they think of them as kings, emperors, presidents? No. They think of them + as sons. That is why man is supreme. That is why he rules. To be sure, we + women are not always disposed to have our husbands rule, we even go so far + as to say they are not fit to rule, but alas, the men we are permitted to + know the best of all are always the sons of some one else, and so there + you have the endless chain. Sons! Sons! Sons! Sons to create new sons,—sons + without end, amen! God bless our sons!” + </p> + <p> + “And I say God bless our mothers!” + </p> + <p> + “In that one little sentence, Mr. Percivail, spoke from the heart, you + have reveal the secret history of the world. You have account for + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a million years old, Madame Obosky,” he said, looking into her + deep, unfathomable eyes. + </p> + <p> + She smiled. “So? And which of my sons, Mr. Percivail, do you think I love + the most? Cain or Abel?” + </p> + <p> + “It would take a woman to answer that question. There's one thing certain, + however. You loved both of them more than you loved Adam.” + </p> + <p> + “True. But I followed Adam out of the Garden of Eden and I have never left + his heels from zat day to this. What more could any man ask?” + </p> + <p> + On the second morning after the storm, the lookout fixed his straining + eyes on a far-distant, shadowy line that had not been a part of the + boundless horizon the day before. Dawn was breaking, night was lifting her + sheet from the new-born day. He waited. He could not be sure. Minutes that + seemed like hours passed. Then suddenly his hoarse shout rose out of the + silence: + </p> + <p> + “Land ho!” + </p> + <p> + Down into the heart of the ship boomed the cry, taken from the lookout's + lips by one after another of the weary men below. The sweating, exhausted + toilers who manned the pumps paused for a moment, then fell to work again + revitalized. Out from the cabins, up from every nook and corner of the + ship scrambled the excited horde, fully dressed, their faces haggard with + doubt, their eyes aglow with joy. Land! In every round little window + gleamed a face,—for a moment only along the portside. Nothing but + the same endless ocean on the port side of the ship. Water! Sick and + wounded drew themselves up to the portholes and peered out from their + cells for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “Where?... Where?” ran the wild, eager cry of the scurrying throng, and + there was disappointment—bitter disappointment in their voices. They + had been tricked. There was no land in sight! The glasses of the ship's + officers, clustered far forward, were directed toward some point off the + starboard bow, but if there was land over there it was not visible to the + naked eye. A junior engineer saluted Captain Trigger and left the group. + </p> + <p> + “There is land ahead,—a long way off,” he announced as he passed + through the throng in the saloon deck. + </p> + <p> + Up above the clamour of questions shouted from all sides as the crazed + people flocked behind the messenger of hope, rose the voice of Morris + Shine. + </p> + <p> + “Land ahoy! Ahoy-yoy-yoy!” he yelled over and over again, his chin raised + like that of a dog baying at the moon. + </p> + <p> + Every person on deck was either carrying a life-belt or was already + encased in one. Grim orders of the night just past. Here and there were to + be seen men who clutched tightly the handles of suitcases and kit bags! + Evidently they were expecting to step ashore at once. In any case, they + belonged to the class of people who never fail to crowd their way down the + gang-plank ahead of every one else. The fashionable ocean liners always + have quite a number of these on board, invariably in the first cabin. + </p> + <p> + Percival ranged the decks in quest of Ruth Clinton. She was well aft on + the boat deck, where the rail was not so crowded as it was forward. Her + arm was about the drooping, pathetic figure of her aunt. They were staring + intently out over the water,—the girl's figure erect, vibrant, alive + with the spirit of youth, her companion's sagging under the doubt and + scepticism of age. He hesitated a moment before accosting them. + Nicklestick, the Jew, was excitedly retailing the news to them. He went so + far as to declare that he could see land quite clearly,—and so could + they if they would only look exactly where he was pointing. He claimed to + have been one of the very first men on board to see the land. + </p> + <p> + Ruth was hatless. Her braided brown hair had been coiled so hastily, so + thoughtlessly that stray strands fell loose about her neck and ears to be + blown gaily by the breeze across her cheek. Her blouse was open at the + neck, her blue serge jacket flared in the wind. Every vestige of the warm, + soft colour had left her face. She was deathly pale with emotion. + </p> + <p> + Percival was suddenly conscious of a mist bedimming his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Several people were grouped near them at the rail, listening to + Nicklestick. The stowaway joined them. As if sensing his presence, Ruth + turned suddenly and saw him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried, tremulously. “Have—have you seen it, Mr. Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied. “It won't be visible for an hour or so longer. It's off + there all right, though. The lookout, Captain Trigger and several others + got a glimpse of it before the sun began to pull the mist up to obscure it + for a little while. That's mist over there,” he went on, turning to + Nicklestick. “You couldn't see the Andes Mountains if they were where that + strip of land is hidden. It won't be long, Miss Clinton, before we all can + see it.” + </p> + <p> + “How far away is it?” she asked, controlling her voice with an effort. “Do + they know? Can they estimate?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you what let's do,” he said abruptly. “Let's go up on the sun + deck. I've got Mr. Gray's glasses. We can see better up there. Let me + assist you, Mrs. Spofford. The sun deck is pretty badly smashed up and + littered with all sorts of wreckage, but we can manage it all right.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Spofford looked at him intently for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I remember you now,” she said. “Are you sure,—are you positive + there is land over there?” + </p> + <p> + “I have Captain Trigger's word for it.” + </p> + <p> + “And mine, too,” added Mr. Nicklestick. “You may rest assured, Mrs. + Spofford, that we will all be on dry land before many hours.” + </p> + <p> + Percival leaned close to the speaker and said in a very low but emphatic + tone: + </p> + <p> + “You don't know a damn thing about it, so keep your trap closed. If you're + a man, you won't go on raising false hopes in the breasts of these women.” + </p> + <p> + Nicklestick's jaw fell. He whispered: + </p> + <p> + “My God,—ain't we—you don't mean to say there is a chance we + won't be able to—” + </p> + <p> + But Percival had turned away with the two women. Mrs. Spofford took his + arm, leaning heavily against him. Her figure had straightened, however. He + had given her the needed confidence. + </p> + <p> + They made their way up the steps leading to the topmost deck. Others had + already preceded them. A dozen men and women were looking out over the sea + through their binoculars. They recognized Landover, Madame Careni-Amori + (clutching her jewel case), Joseppi, Fitts and one or two more. Olga + Obosky was well forward, seated on the edge of a partially wrecked + skylight and ventilator. Her three dancing girls were with her, closely + grouped. + </p> + <p> + Percival purposely remained near the steps. He knew full well that the + ship's hours were numbered. It was only a question of time when she would + founder. In the lee of one of the big stacks they huddled close together + and waited for the lifting of the veil. The wind was soft but strong up + there at the top of the vessel. He took hope in the fact that it was + blowing toward the shores of that unseen land, and that slowly but surely + the Doraine was drifting thither. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, as if a curtain were being raised, a far-off line appeared on + the surface of the waters. Higher rose the curtain, and like magic the + line developed into an irregular ridge, the ends of which sank below the + horizon far to the right and left. + </p> + <p> + Percival felt the girl's hand on his arm. He shot a swift glance at her + face. It was turned away. She staring at the mystic panorama that was + being unveiled off there on the rim of the world. Her eyes were bright, + her lips were parted in the ecstasy of hope revived, she was breathing + deeply. The pulse in her smooth white neck was beating rapidly, + rythmically. He could see it. He laid his bandaged hand firmly upon hers + and pressed it tightly to his arm. She did not look around. Her every + thought was centred upon the unfolding vision. + </p> + <p> + “There are trees,” she murmured, enthralled. “Trees,—and hills! See, + Auntie,—but oh, how far away they are!” + </p> + <p> + For many minutes they stood there without speaking. Then from all sides + came the clamour of voices,—shouts of joy, cheers,—laughter! + She looked down at the clumsy object that imprisoned her hand, then + swiftly up into his eyes. A warm flush spread over her face. + </p> + <p> + “I—I couldn't help it,” he muttered. “It—it looked so + helpless.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't half as helpless as yours, Mr. Percival,” she said, and smiled. + She waited a moment before withdrawing her hand. “May I have the glasses, + please? Had you forgotten them?” + </p> + <p> + “Completely,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Later, while Mrs. Spofford was peering through the glasses, she drew him + aside. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about the water in the hold,” she said in a low tone. “Is it + serious?” + </p> + <p> + He looked grave. “Very. If you will take a peep over the side of the ship, + you'll see how low down she is in the water.” + </p> + <p> + “My aunt doesn't know the ship is leaking,” she went on, hurriedly. “I + want to keep it from her as long as possible.” He nodded his head. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mott figures we'll stay afloat for ten or twelve hours,—maybe + longer. I will see to it that you and Mrs. Spofford get into one of the + boats in case we—well, just in case, you know. We will be given + ample warning, Miss Clinton. Things don't look as hopeless as they did + last night.” He pointed toward the land. “It looks like heaven, doesn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + Her face clouded. “But only a very few of us may—” she stopped, + shuddering. + </p> + <p> + “You poor little girl!” he cried brokenly. He steadied himself and went + on: “It wouldn't surprise me in the least if every blessed one of us got + safely ashore.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not believe that, Mr. Percival. I can tell by the look in your + eyes. I want you to promise me one thing. If we have to take to the boats, + you will come with us—” + </p> + <p> + He drew himself up. “My dear Miss Clinton, there is quite a difference + between being a stowaway on an ocean liner and being one in a lifeboat. I + have no standing on this ship. I have no right in one of her boats. I am + the very last person on board to be considered.” + </p> + <p> + She looked searchingly into his eyes, her own wide with comprehension. + “You mean you will make no effort to leave the ship until every one else + is—” + </p> + <p> + He checked her with a gesture of his hand. “I may be one of the first to + leave. But I'll not rob any one else of his place in a boat or his space + on one of those rafts. I'll swim for it.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly the land crept down upon the Doraine. The illusion was startling. + The ship seemed to be lying absolutely motionless; it was the land that + approached instead of the other way round. A thin white beach suddenly + emerged from the green background to the left, to the right an ugly mass + of rocks took shape, stretching as far as the eye could reach. Farther + inland rose high, tree covered hills, green as emeralds in the blazing + sunlight. On a sea of turquoise lolled the listless Doraine. + </p> + <p> + Soundings were taken from time to time. Even the bottom of the ocean was + coming up to meet the Doraine. Its depth appreciably lessened with each + successive measurement. From fifty fathoms it had decreased to ten since + the first line was dropped. + </p> + <p> + At four o'clock, Captain Trigger ordered a boat lowered and manned by a + picked crew in charge of the Second Engineer. The Doraine was about five + miles off shore at the time, and was drifting with a noticeably increased + speed directly toward the rock-bound coast. He had hoped she would go + aground in the shallow waters off the sandy beach, but there was now no + chance that such a piece of good fortune was in store for her. She was + going straight for the huge black rocks. + </p> + <p> + The boat's crew rowed in for observations. Even before they returned to + report, the anxious officers on board the vessel had made out a narrow + fissure in the rocky coast line. They assumed that it was the mouth of a + small river. The Second Engineer brought back the astonishing information + that this opening in the coast was the gateway to a channel that in his + judgment split the island into two distinct sections. That it was not the + mouth of a river was made clear by the presence of a current so strong + that his men had to exert themselves to the utmost to prevent the boat + being literally sucked into the channel by the powerful tide, which + apparently was at its full. This opening,—the water rushed into it + so swiftly that he was satisfied it developed into a gorge farther back + from the coast,—was approximately two hundred yards wide, flanked on + either side by low lying, formidable bastions of rock. The water was not + more than fifty feet deep off the entrance to the channel. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the prow of the Doraine swung around and pointed straight for + the cleft in the shore. The ship, two miles out, had responded to the + insidious pressure of the current and was being drawn toward the rocks,—at + first so slowly that there was scarcely a ripple off her bows; then, as + she lumbered onward, she began to turn over the water as a ploughshare + turns over the land. + </p> + <p> + At precisely six o'clock she slid between the rocky portals and entered a + canal so straight and true that it might have been drilled and blasted out + of the earth under the direction of the most skilful engineers in the + world. + </p> + <p> + Soundings were hastily taken. Discovering that the water was not deep + enough even at high tide to submerge the vessel when the inevitable came + to pass and she sank to the bottom, Captain Trigger renewed his efforts to + release the anchor chains, which had been caught and jammed in the + wreckage. He realized the vital necessity for checking the Doraine in her + flight before she accomplished the miracle of passing unhindered through + the channel and out into the open sea beyond. The swiftness of the current + indicated plainly enough that this natural canal was of no great length. + </p> + <p> + The ship slid on between the tree lined banks. The trees were of the + temperate zone, with spreading limbs, thick foliage and hardy trunks. + There were no palms visible, but in the rarely occurring open spaces a + large shrub abounded. This was instantly recognized by Percival, who + proclaimed it to be the algaroba, a plant commonly found on the Gran Chaco + in Argentina. While the woodland was thick there was nothing about it to + suggest the tropical jungle with its impenetrable fastnesses. + </p> + <p> + The keel of the half-sunken Doraine was scraping ominously on the bed of + the channel. She shivered and swerved from frequent contact with submerged + rocks, but held her course with uncanny steadiness, while every soul on + board gazed with stark, despairing eyes at the land which mocked them as + they passed. Far on ahead loomed the lofty hills, and beyond them lay—What? + The ocean? + </p> + <p> + Gradually the passage widened. Its depth also increased. The ship no + longer scraped the bottom, she no longer caromed off the sunken rocks. On + the other hand, water poured into her interior with increasing force and + volume, indicating a disastrous rent forward. She was sloshing along + toward the centre of a basin which appeared to be half a mile wide and not + more than a mile long. Directly ahead of her the hills came down to meet + the water. A dark narrow cut, with towering sides, indicated an outlet for + the tiny, inland sea. This gorge, toward which the Doraine was being + resistlessly drawn, appeared to be but little wider than the ship itself. + </p> + <p> + Almost in the shadow of the hills, and within a dozen ship-lengths of the + sinister opening, the worn, exhausted, beaten Doraine came to rest at the + end of her final voyage. She shivered and groaned under the jarring + impact, forged onward half her length, heeled over slightly—and + died! She was anchored for ever in the tiny landlocked sea, proud + leviathan whose days had been spent in the boundless reaches of the open + deep. + </p> + <p> + And here for the centuries to come would lie the proud Doraine, guided to + her journey's end by the pilot Chance, moored for all time in the + strangest haven ever put into by man. + </p> + <p> + Behind the stranded vessel stretched centuries incalculable, and in all + these centuries no man had entered here. Screened from the rest of the + world, untended by chortling tugs, unheralded by raucous sirens, welcomed + only by primeval solitude, the Doraine had come to rest. + </p> + <p> + She settled down on her bed of rocks to sleep for evermore, a mottled + monster whose only covering was the night; indifferent to storm and calm, + to time and tide, to darkness and light, she sat serene in her little sea. + Her lofty walls towered high above the waves that broke tremblingly + against them, as if afraid of this strange object from another world that + could rest upon the bottom of the ocean and yet be so far above them. + </p> + <p> + Reported “Lost with all on board!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + Captain Trigger and a dozen men stood on the boat deck with guns and + revolvers, facing several hundred sullen, determined men and women from + the steerage. Night had not yet fallen; the shadow of the hills, however, + was reaching half way across the oval pool; gloom impenetrable had settled + on the wooded shores. + </p> + <p> + With the striking of the Doraine, nearly every one on board was hurled to + the decks. As she heeled over five or six degrees in settling herself + among the rocks, a panic ensued among the ignorant people of the steerage. + They scrambled to their feet and made a rush for the boats, shouting and + screaming in their terror. Other passengers were trampled under foot and + sailors standing by the davits were hurled aside. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger, anticipating just such a stampede, rushed up with members + of the gun crew. The gaunt, broken old master of the Doraine drove the + horde back from the boats, but as he stood there haranguing them in good + maritime English he could see plainly enough that they were not to be so + easily subdued. The first panic was over, but they were crazed by the fear + that had gripped them for days; they believed that the ship was soon to + sink beneath their feet; safety lay not more than a hundred yards away,—and + it was being denied them by this heartless, unfeeling despot. + </p> + <p> + They were mainly low-caste Portuguese bound for Rio and Bahia, and they + had obeyed him through all those tortuous days out on the deep where he + was the shepherd and they the flock. But now,—now they could well + afford to turn upon and rend him, for he had brought them safe to land and + they no longer owed him anything! + </p> + <p> + “My God, I don't want to shoot any of them,” groaned the Captain, + steadying himself against the rail. “But they've got guns, and they're + crazy. I—” + </p> + <p> + Some one touched his arm, and a firm, decisive voice spoke in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “I'm used to handling gangs like this, Captain Trigger. They don't + understand you, but they'll damn soon understand me, if you'll turn the + job over to me. I'm not trying to be officious, sir, and I'm not even + hinting that you can't bring 'em to their senses. I know how to handle 'em + and you don't, that's all. They're not sailors, you see. And it isn't + mutiny. They need a boss, sir,—that's what they need. And they need + him damned quick, so if you don't mind saying the word,—they're + ready to make a rush, and if—” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead, Percival,—if you can hold them—” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more!” shouted Percival, and stepped resolutely forward. His hands + were bare,—swollen, red and ugly; his eyes were as cold as steel, + his voice as sharp as a keen-edged sword. He spoke in Spanish to the + wavering, threatening horde. + </p> + <p> + “You damned, sneaking, low-lived cowards! What sort of swine are you? Have + you no thought for the women you've trampled upon and beaten out of your + path,—your own women, as well as the others,—think of them and + ask yourselves if you are men. I'm in command of this ship now, and, by + God, I'm going to let you get into those boats and start for shore. Don't + cheer! You don't know what's coming to you. I'm going to turn that cannon + on you up there and blow every one of you to hell and gone before you get + fifty feet from the side of this ship. You don't believe that, eh? Well, + that's exactly what I'm going to do. Lieutenant Platt!” He called over his + shoulder in English to the young commander of the gun's crew. “Get some of + your men up there and train that gun so as to blow these boats to + smithereens. Quick!” In a half-whisper to the Captain: “It's all right. I + know what I'm talking about.” Then to the crowd: “We don't want you on + board this ship a minute longer than we can help. We've got no room for + dogs here among decent white men and women. Do you understand that? We + don't want to have anything more to do with you, either here or on shore. + I'm going to wipe you out, every damned one of you,—men women and + children. You're not fit to live. You're going to climb into those boats + now and get off this ship. You'll never realize how safe you are here till + you get down there in the water and hear that gun go off. Come on! Get a + move! We're through with you, now and for ever. Nobody's going to stop + you. I'm even going to have the boats lowered for you, so as not to delay + matters.” He shouted after Lieutenant Platt: “Be lively, please. You've + got your orders. We'll make short work of this pack of wolves.” To Captain + Trigger, authoritatively: “Withdraw your men, sir. I am going to let them + leave the ship. At once, sir! Do you mean to disobey me, sir?” He gave the + captain a sly wink. + </p> + <p> + Then as the bewildered master withdrew with his armed men, he turned once + more to the mob. “Come on! Step lively, now! No rushing! Take your turn. + Every blasted one of you, I mean. What the hell are you hanging back for,—you? + You were so darned eager to go a little while ago, what's the matter with + you now? No one's trying to stop you. Here are the boats. Put up your guns + and knives, and pile in. You're absolutely free to go, you swine. We'll be + damned good and rid of you, and that's all we're asking. It's a pity to + waste powder and cannon-balls on you, when we may have use for all we've + got later on, killing the lions and tigers and anacondas up there in the + woods, but I'm going to do it.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped back. Not a man or woman moved. They stood transfixed, packed + in a huddled mass along the deck. Then a woman cried out for mercy. The + cry was taken up by other women. Percival halted and faced them once more. + </p> + <p> + “Get into those boats!” he roared savagely. “It won't do you a bit of good + to whine and pray and squeal. I'm through with you. You've got to—Well?” + </p> + <p> + Several of the men edged forward, some of them trying to smile. + </p> + <p> + “Would you kill us when we are only trying to save our lives?” called out + one of them, finding his courage and voice. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to talk to you. Get in!” + </p> + <p> + “We have as much right to remain on this ship as anybody else,” shouted + another. “We paid for our passage. We are honest, hard-working—” + </p> + <p> + “No use! I'll give you ten minutes to climb into those boats.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment's silence. “And what will you do if we refuse to leave + the ship?” cried one of the men. + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet!” he bawled at the whimpering women. “We cannot hear what the + gentleman has to say.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll soon find out what I'll do, if you don't obey me inside of ten + minutes,” replied Percival. + </p> + <p> + “But the ship is not going to sink any more,” protested another, looking + over the rail timidly. “She is safe. We do not wish to leave now.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott joined Percival. In an undertone he told them + what he had said to the mob. + </p> + <p> + “And now, gentlemen,” he whispered in conclusion, “it's up to you to + intercede in their behalf. They're as tame as rabbits now. They know the + ship's all right, and they believe I intend to blow 'em to pieces if they + once put off in the boats. Start in now, Captain, and argue with me. Plead + for them. They know who I am. They know I come from the hills and they + think I'm a bloodthirsty devil. They're like a lot of cattle. Most of them + are simple, honest, God-fearing people,—and if we handle them + properly now we'll not have much trouble with them in the future. And only + the Good Lord knows what the future is going to bring.” + </p> + <p> + So the three of them argued, two against one. Finally Percival threw up + his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Captain. I give in. Perhaps you are right. I suppose it would + be butchery.” + </p> + <p> + There were a few in the crowd who understood English. These edged forward + eagerly, hopefully. They called out protestations against the “slaughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell them you have reconsidered, Mr. Percival,” said the Captain. “They + are to remain on board.” + </p> + <p> + Excited shouts went up from the few who understood, and then the word went + among the others that they were to be spared. There were cries of relief, + joy, gratitude, and not a few fell upon their knees! + </p> + <p> + Percival stood forth once more. Silence fell upon the throng. + </p> + <p> + “The Captain has put in a plea for you, and I have decided to grant it. + You may remain on board. Now, listen to me! No one is to leave this ship + until tomorrow morning. We are safe here. We are stuck fast on the bottom, + and nothing can happen to us at present. Tomorrow we will see what is best + to be done. Every man and woman here is to return to the task he was given + by Mr. Mott at the beginning of our troubles. We've got to eat, and sleep, + and—Wait a minute! Well, all right,—beat it, if you feel that + way about it.” + </p> + <p> + He stood watching them as they excitedly withdrew toward the bow of the + ship, breaking up into clattering groups, all of them talking at once. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger laid his hand on the young man's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “If it had not been for you, Percival, this deck would now be red with + blood,—and some of us would be dead. You saved a very ticklish + situation. I take off my hat to you, and I say, with a full heart, that I + shall never again doubt your ability to handle men. No one but an American + could have tricked that mob as you did, my lad.” + </p> + <p> + From various points of vantage the foregoing scene had been witnessed by + uneasy, alarmed persons from upper cabins. Overwhelmed and dismayed by the + rush of the yelling mob, the elect had fled for safety, urged by a greater + fear than any that had gone before,—the fear of rioting men. + </p> + <p> + A few of them, more daring and inquisitive than the rest, had ventured + recklessly into the zone of danger. Among them were Ruth Clinton and + Madame Olga Obosky, who, disregarding the command of Mr. Mott, were the + only women to venture beyond the protecting corner of the deck building. + They stood side by side, bracing themselves against the downward slope of + the deck. Half-way forward were Trigger and the armed gunners, and beyond + them the dense, irresolute mass of humanity. Percival, in rounding the + corner to go to the assistance of Captain Trigger, observed with dismay + the exposed position in which the two women had placed themselves. He + paused to cry out to them sharply: + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here? Get back to the other side. Can't you see there + is likely to be shooting? Don't stand there like a couple of idiots! + You're right in line if that gang begins to fire.” + </p> + <p> + “He is tearing off his bandages,” cried Ruth, as Percival hurried on. + </p> + <p> + Madame Obosky was silent, her gaze fixed intently on the brisk, aggressive + figure of the man who had called them idiots. She understood every word he + uttered to the Portuguese. Her eyes glistened with pride when he stepped + forward to tackle the mob single-handed, and as he went on with his + astonishing speech she actually broke into a soft giggle. Her companion + looked at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you laugh?” she demanded hotly. “Those dreadful creatures may tear + him to pieces. He is unarmed and defenceless. They could sweep him—” + </p> + <p> + “You would laugh also if you understood,” interrupted Olga, her eyes + dancing. “Oh, what a grand—what do you call it?—bluff? What a + magnificent bluff he is doing! It is beautiful. See,—they whisper + among themselves,—they have back down completely. Wait! I will + presently tell you what he have said to them.” + </p> + <p> + “I never dreamed any man could be so fearless. Look at the odds against + him. There are scores of them,—and they—” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! Do you suppose he would stand up and fight them if they rushed at + him? Not he! He would turn and run as fast as he could. He is no fool, my + dear. He is a very intelligent man. So he would run if they make a single + move toward him.” + </p> + <p> + “I think this is rather a poor time to accuse him of cowardice, Madame + Obosky, in view of what he—” + </p> + <p> + “Have I accused him of cowardice?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know what you call it. You say he would run if they—” + </p> + <p> + “But that would not be cowardice. It would be the simplest kind of common + sense. He is so very sure of himself. It is not courage. It is confidence. + That is his strength. He would be a fool to stand in front of them + empty-handed if they were to charge upon him. Maybe when you have known + him as long as I have, you will realize he is not a fool,—about + himself or any one else.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth stared at her. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, Madame Obosky, I have + known Mr. Percival as long if not longer than you have.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know him at all,” rejoined the Russian brusquely. “Be still, + please! I must hear what he is saying to them now.” A little later she + turned to the American girl and laid her hand on her arm. “For-give me, if + I was rude to you. I am so very much older than you that I—how old + are you, Miss Clinton?” + </p> + <p> + “I am twenty-five,” replied the other, surprised into replying. + </p> + <p> + “And I am twenty-six,” said Madame Obosky, as if she were at least twice + the age of her companion. “See! They are dispersing. It's all over. Come! + Let us go back to the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not ready to go back to the other side,” protested the American + girl, resisting the hand on her arm. “Why should we go back, now that the + danger is over?” + </p> + <p> + “Because we must not let him catch us here,” urged Olga in some agitation. + </p> + <p> + “And why not, pray?” + </p> + <p> + The Russian looked at her in astonishment. “But surely you heard him tell + us to go back to the other side. You heard him call us idiots, Miss + Clinton?” + </p> + <p> + And Ruth Clinton suffered herself to be hurried incontinently around the + corner of the deck building. + </p> + <p> + “Once, in Moscow, I saw a Grand Duke confront a mob of students who had + gathered in the street near his house. They were armed and they had come + to destroy this man himself. There were hundreds of them. He walked + straight toward them, his head erect, his shoulders squared, and when they + stopped he spoke to them as if they were dogs. When he had finished, he + turned his back upon them and walked away. They might have filled him with + bullets,—but they did not fire a shot. At the corner he entered his + carriage and disappeared. And then what did he do? He fainted, that Grand + Duke, he did. Fainted like a stupid, silly young girl. But while he was + standing before zat—-that mob of terrorists he was the strongest man + in Russia. Nevertheless, he was afraid of them. You have therefore the + curious spectacle to perceive, Miss Clinton, of one man being afraid of + hundreds, and of hundreds of men at the same time being afraid of one. + Man, he is a queer animal, eh?” + </p> + <p> + It was not long before the doubts and fears of all on board the Doraine + gave way to a strange, unnatural state of exhilaration. It represented joy + without happiness, relief without security, exultation without conviction,—for, + after all, there still remained unanswered the question that robbed every + sensation of its thrill. While they were singing the hymns of thanksgiving + in the saloon that night, and listening to the fervent prayers; while they + ate, drank and were merry, their thoughts were not of the day but of the + morrow. What of the morrow? In the eyes of every one who laughed and sang + dwelt the unchanging shadow of anxiety; on every face was stamped an + expression that spoke more plainly than words the doubts and misgivings + that constituted the background of their jubilation. They had escaped the + sea, but would they ever escape the land? Had God, in answer to their + complaints and prayers, directed them to a land from which the hand of man + would never rescue them? Were they isolated here in the untraversed + southern seas, cast upon an island unknown to the rest of the world? Or + were they, on the other hand, within reach of human agencies by which the + world might be made acquainted with their plight? + </p> + <p> + Uppermost in every mind was the sickening recollection, however, that for + days they had ranged the sea without sighting a single craft. They were + far from the travelled lanes, they were out of the worth-while world. Hope + rested solely on the possibility that the hills and forests hid from view + the houses and wharves of a desolate little sea-town set up by the + far-reaching people of the British Isles. + </p> + <p> + The story of Percival's achievement was not long in going the rounds. It + went through the customary process of elaboration. By the time it reached + his ears,—through the instrumentality of Mr. Morris Shine, the + motion picture magnate,—it had assumed sufficient magnitude to draw + from that enterprising gentleman a bona fide offer of quite a large sum + for the film rights in case Mr. Percival would agree to re-enact the + thrilling scene later on. In fact, Mr. Shine, having recovered his + astuteness and his courage simultaneously, was already working at the + preliminary details of the most “stupendous” picture ever conceived by + man. His deepest lament now was that he had neglected to bring a good + camera man down from New York, so that on the day of the explosion he + could have “got” the people actually jumping overboard, and drowning in + plain sight—(although he did not see them because of the trouble he + was having to get a seat in one of the life-boats),—and the wounded + scattered over the decks, the fire, the devastation, the departure and + return of the boats, the storm and all that followed, including himself in + certain judiciously preserved scenes, and the whole production could have + been made at practically no cost at all. There never had been such an + opportunity, complained Mr. Shine the moment he felt absolutely certain + that the opportunity was a thing of the past. + </p> + <p> + “No wonder he got away with it,” said Mr. Landover to a group of + rejuvenated satellites. “He is hand in glove with them, that fellow is. I + wouldn't trust him around the corner. Why, it's perfectly plain to anybody + with a grain of intelligence that he's the leader of that gang of + anarchists. All he had to do was to speak to them,—in their own + language, mind you,—and back they slunk to their quarters. They + obeyed him because he is their chosen leader, and that's all there is to + this—What say, Fitts?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitts, who was not a satellite but a very irritating Christian + gentleman, cleared his throat and said: + </p> + <p> + “I didn't speak, Mr. Landover. I always make a noise like that when I + yawn. It's an awfully middle-class habit I've gotten into. Still, don't + you think one obtains a little more—shall we say enjoyment?—a + little more enjoyment out of a yawn if he lets go and puts his whole soul + into it? Of course, it isn't really necessary to utter the 'hi-ho-hum!' + quite so vociferously as I do,—in fact, it might even be better to + omit it altogether,—if possible,—when some one else is + speaking. There are, I grant you, other ways of expressing one's complete + mastery of the art of yawning, such as a prolonged but audible sigh, or a + sort of muffled howl, or even a series of blissful little shrieks peculiar + to the feminine of the species,—any one of these, I admit, is a + trifle more elegant and up-to-date, but they all lack the splendid + resonance,—you might even say grandiloquence,—of the + old-fashioned 'hi-ho-hum!' to which I am addicted. Now, if you will + consider—” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” exclaimed the banker, with a positively venomous emphasis on the + name of the Deity. “Who wants to know anything about yawns?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitts looked hurt. “I am sorry. My mistake. I thought you were trying + to change the subject when you interrupted my yawn.” + </p> + <p> + “That fellow's a damn' fool,” said the banker, as Fitts strolled off to + join another group. + </p> + <p> + “Try one of these cigars, Mr. Landover,” said Mr. Nicklestick + persuasively. “Of course, they're nothing like the kind you smoke, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Is mine out? So it is. No, thank you. I'll take a match, however, if you + have one about you.” + </p> + <p> + Four boxes were hastily thrust upon the great financier. + </p> + <p> + “Haf you noticed how poor the matches are lately, Mr. Landover?” + complained Mr. Block. + </p> + <p> + “As for this vagabond being superintendent of a mining concession up in + Bolivia,” continued Landover, absentmindedly sticking Mr. Nicklestick's + precious, box of matches into his own pocket, “that's all poppycock. He's + an out-and-out adventurer. You can't fool me. I've handled too many men in + my time. I sized him up right from the start. But the devil of it is, he's + got all the officers on this boat hypnotized. And most of the women too. I + made it a point to speak to Mrs. Spofford and her niece about him this + morning,—and the poor girl has been making quite a fool of herself + over him, you may have observed. Mrs. Spofford owns quite a block of stock + in our institution, so I considered it my duty to put a flea in her ear, + if you see what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. Nicklestick. + </p> + <p> + “She should have been very grateful,” said Mr. Block. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover frowned. “I'm going to speak to her again as soon as she has + regained her strength and composure. Nerves all shot to pieces, you + understand. Everything distorted,—er—shot to pieces, as I say. + I dare say I should have had more sense than to—er—ahem!—two + or three days' rest, that's what she needs, poor thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely,” said Mr. Nicklestick. + </p> + <p> + “You can't tell a woman anything when she's upset,” said Mr. Block, + feelingly. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Clinton is a very charming young lady,” said Mr. Nicklestick, giving + his moustache a slight twist. “I should hate to see her lose her head over + a fellow like him.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a splendid girl,” said Landover warmly. “One of the oldest + families in New York. She deserves nothing but the best.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, that's right,” assented Mr. Nicklestick. “I don't know when + I've met a more charming young lady, Mr. Landover.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know you had met her,” observed the banker coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” replied Mr. Nicklestick. “We were in the same lifeboat, Mr. + Landover, you know,—all night, you know, Mr. Landover.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + Early the next morning, Percival turned out long before there were any + sounds from the galley or dining-room. The sun had not yet cleared the + tree-tops to the east; the decks of the Doraine were still wet with dew. A + few sailors were abroad; a dull-eyed junior officer moodily picked his way + through the debris on the forward deck. Birds were singing and chattering + in the trees that lined the shore; down at the water's edge, like + sentinels on duty, with an eye always upon the strange, gigantic intruder, + strutted a number of stately, bright-plumaged birds of the flamingo + variety—(doubtless they were flamingoes); the blue surface of the + basin was sprinkled with the myriad white, gleaming backs of winged + fishermen, diving, flapping, swirling; on high, far above the hills, + soared two or three huge birds with wings outspread and rigid, monarchs of + all that they surveyed. The stowaway leaned on the port rail and fixed his + gaze upon the crest of the severed hill, apparently the tallest of the + half dozen or so that were visible from his position. + </p> + <p> + With powerful glasses he studied the wooded slope. This hill was probably + twelve or fourteen hundred feet high. He thought of it as a hill, for he + had lived long in the heart of the towering Andes. Behind him lay the belt + of woodland that separated the basin from the open sea, a scant league + away. The cleft through the hill lay almost directly ahead. It's walls + apparently were perpendicular; a hundred feet or less from the pinnacle, + the opening spread out considerably, indicating landslides at some remote + period, the natural sloughing off of earth and stone in the formation of + this narrow, unnatural passage through the very centre of the little + mountain. For at least a thousand feet, however, the sides of the passage + rose as straight as a wall. That the mountain was of solid rock could not + be doubted after a single glance at those sturdy, unflinching walls, black + and sheer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you make of it?” inquired a voice at his elbow. He turned + to find Mr. Mott standing beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Earthquake,” he replied. “Thousands of years ago, of course. Split the + island completely in two.” + </p> + <p> + “Sounds plausible,” mused the First Officer. “But if that is the case, how + do you account for the shallowness of the water in the passage and out + here in the basin? An earthquake violent enough to split that hill would + make a crack in the earth a thousand fathoms deep.” + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea that if we took soundings in this basin we'd find a + section twenty or thirty feet wide in the centre of it where we couldn't + touch bottom. The same would be true of the passage if we plumbed the + middle. When we came through it the ship scraped bottom time and again. As + a matter of fact,—the way I figure it out,—she was simply + bumping against the upper edges of a crevice that reaches down God knows + how far. We took no soundings, you will remember, until we swung out into + this pool. I'll bet my head that that cut through the hill yonder is a + mile deep. Earthquake fissures seldom go deeper than that, I've heard. + Generally they are mere surface cracks, a hundred feet deep at the + outside. But this one,—My God, it gives me the creeps, that crack in + the earth does.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” said Mr. Mott, his elbows on the rail beside the young man, his + chin in his hands. He was looking down at the water. “Captain Trigger is + planning to send a couple of boats outside to survey the coast. I dare say + he'll be asking you to go out in one of them. You're a civil engineer and + so he feels—” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Mr. Mott, but what's the sense of sending boats out to explore + the coast before we find out how big the island is?” + </p> + <p> + “What's the sense? Why, how are we to find out how big the island is + unless we make the circuit of it? And how in thunder are we to find out + that there isn't a village or some sort of trading port on it—What + are you pointing up there for?” + </p> + <p> + Percival's finger was levelled at the top of the higher half of the + bisected mountain. + </p> + <p> + “See that hill, Mr. Mott? Well, unless we're on a darned sight bigger + island than I think we are, we can see from one end of it to the other + from the top of that hill. It isn't much of a climb. A few huskies with + axes to cut a path through the underbrush, and we might get up there in a + few hours. I've been figuring it out. That's why I got up so early. Had it + on my mind all night. The sensible thing to do is to send a gang of us up + there to have a look around. Strange Captain Trigger never thought of it. + I suppose it's because he's an old sea-dog and not a landlubber.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott coughed. “I fancy he would have thought of it in good time.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, in case he doesn't think of it in time, you might suggest it to + him, Mr. Mott.” + </p> + <p> + The result of this conversation was the formation of a party of explorers + to ascend the mountain. They were sent ashore soon after breakfast, + well-armed, equipped with axes and other implements, boat-hooks, surveying + instruments, and the most powerful glasses on board. Percival was in + command. The party was made up of a dozen men, half of them from the gun + crew, with an additional complement of laborers from the steerage. + </p> + <p> + Ruth Clinton, as soon as she learned of the proposed expedition, sought + out Percival and insisted upon re-bandaging his hands. + </p> + <p> + “You must not go into all that tangle of brushwood with your hands + unprotected,” she declared, obstinately shaking her head in response to + his objections. “Don't be foolish, Mr. Percival. It won't take me five + minutes to wrap them up. Sit down,—I insist. You are still one of my + patients. Hold out your hand!” + </p> + <p> + “They are ever so much better,” he protested, but he obeyed her. + </p> + <p> + “Of course they are,” she agreed, in a matter-of-fact tone. “You did not + give me a chance last night to tell you how splendid you were in tackling + that crazy mob. I witnessed it all, you know. Madame Obosky and I.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, you didn't beat it when I told you to, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. What are you going to do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “What can I do? I can only say this: I'm glad Captain Trigger's opinion of + me is based on my ability to reason with an ignorant mob and not on my + power to intimidate a couple of very intelligent young women.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have missed it for worlds,” she said coolly. She looked up + into his eyes, a slight frown puckering her brow. “Do you know, Madame + Obosky had the impertinence to say that you would have turned tail and + fled if those people had shown fight.” + </p> + <p> + He grinned. “She's an amazing person, isn't she? Wonderful faculty for + sizing the most of us up.” + </p> + <p> + “You would have run?” + </p> + <p> + “Like a rabbit,” he answered, unabashed. “That's a little too tight, I + think, Miss Clinton. Would you mind loosening it up a bit?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm sorry. Is that better? Now the other one, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'm an awful coward,” he said, after a long silence. + </p> + <p> + She looked up quickly. Something in his eyes brought a faint flush to her + cheek. For a second or two she met his gaze steadily and then her eyes + fell, but not before he had caught the shy, wondering expression that + suddenly filled them. He experienced an almost uncontrollable desire to + lay his clumsy hand upon the soft, smooth brown hair. Through his mind + flashed a queer rush of comparison. He recalled the dark, knowing eyes of + the Russian dancer, mysterious and seductive,—man-reading eyes from + which nothing was concealed,—and contrasted them with the clear, + honest, blue-grey orbs that still could fall in sweet confusion. His heart + began to pound furiously, he felt a queer tightening of the throat. He was + afraid to trust his voice. How white and soft and gentle were her hands,—and + how beautiful they were. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she stroked the bandaged hand,—as an amiable manicurist + might have done—and arose. + </p> + <p> + “There!” she said, composedly. Her cheek was cool and unflushed, her eyes + serene and smiling. “Now you may go, Mr. Percival. Good luck! Bring back + good news to us. I dreamed last night that we were marooned, that we would + have to stay here for ever.” + </p> + <p> + “All of us?” he asked, a trifle thickly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” she replied, after the moment required for comprehension. Her + eyes were suddenly cold and uncompromising. + </p> + <p> + “If I never come back,” he began, somewhat dashed, “I'd like you to + remember always, Miss Clinton, that I—well, that I am the most + grateful dog alive. You've been corking.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't possible you won't come back,” she cried, and he was happy + to see a flicker of alarm in her eyes. “What—what could happen to + you? It isn't—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all sorts of things,” he broke in, much in the same spirit as that + which dominates the boy who wishes he could die in order to punish his + parents for correcting him. + </p> + <p> + “Are—are you really in earnest?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you care—very much?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. “Haven't I wished you good luck, Mr. Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind answering my question?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I should care,—very much indeed,” she replied calmly. “I + am sure that everybody would be terribly grieved if anything were to + happen to you out there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,—good-bye, Miss Clinton. I guess they're waiting for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye! Oh, how I wish I were in your place! Just to put my foot on the + blessed, green earth once more. Good-bye! And—and good luck, again.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will take a pair of glasses and watch the top of that hill,—there + is a bare knob up there, you see,—you will know long before we come + back whether this island is inhabited or not. I am taking an American flag + with me. If we do not see another flag floating anywhere on this island, I + intend to plant the Stars and Stripes on that hill,—just for luck!” + </p> + <p> + She walked a few steps at his side, their bodies aslant against the slope + of the deck. + </p> + <p> + “And if you do not raise the flag, we shall know at once that—that + there are other people here?” she said, her voice eager with suppressed + excitement. “It will mean that ships—” Her voice failed her. + </p> + <p> + “It will mean home,—some day,” he returned solemnly. + </p> + <p> + The one remaining port-side boat was lowered a few minutes later and to + the accompaniment of cheers from the throng that lined the rails, the men + pulled away, heading for a tiny cove on the far side of the basin. The + shore at that point was sloping and practically clear of undergrowth. + </p> + <p> + It was while Percival was waiting to take his place in the boat that Olga + Obosky hurried up to him. + </p> + <p> + “I have brought my luck piece for you,” she said, and revealed in her open + palm a small gold coin, worn smooth with age and handling. “Carry it, my + friend. Nothing will happen to you while it is in your possession. It was + given me by the son of a Grand Duke. It was his lucky piece. It brought me + luck, for he was killed zat very same day, and so I was saved from him. + Keep it in your pocket till you come safely back and then—then you + shall return it to me, because I would not be without my luck, no.” She + slipped her hand deep into his trousers pocket. “There is no hole. That is + good. I have place it there. It is safe. Au revoir! You will have good + luck, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + Withdrawing her warm hand from his pocket she turned and walked swiftly + away. + </p> + <p> + The throng on board the Doraine watched the party land; hats and + handkerchiefs were waved as the adventurers turned for a last look behind, + before they disappeared into the forest. + </p> + <p> + Hours passed,—long interminable hours for those who were not engaged + in the active preparations for the landing of people and stores. Captain + Trigger was making ready to transfer the passengers from the ship at the + earliest possible moment. He was far from certain that the Doraine would + maintain its rather precarious balance on the rocks. With safety not much + more than a stone's throw away, he was determined to take no further risk. + </p> + <p> + At last a shout went up from some one on the forecastle deck. It was taken + up by eager voices. Out upon the bald crest of the mountain straggled the + first of the explorers to reach the goal. They were plainly visible. One + after another the rest of the party appeared. The illusion was startling. + It was as if they had actually emerged from the tree-tops. With straining + eyes the observers below watched the group of figures outlined against the + sky. They spoke in subdued tones. As time went on and the flag was not + unfurled, they took hope; eyes brightened, the hushed tones increased to a + cheerful, excited clatter, the tenseness that had held them rigid for so + long gave way before the growing conviction that another flag already + fluttered somewhere beyond the screening hills. + </p> + <p> + And then, when hope was highest, the Stars and Stripes went up! + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger assembled the ship's company on the forward deck later in + the day. The landing party returned about three o'clock. Acting on advance + instructions, they made their report in private to the Captain, denying + all information to the clamorous passengers. A brief conference of + officers, to which a number of men from the first cabin were invited, was + held immediately after Percival's return. A course of action was discussed + and agreed upon, and then all on board were summoned to the open deck to + hear the result of the expedition. + </p> + <p> + Percival reported the following facts and conclusions: + </p> + <p> + 1. The island was approximately fifteen miles long and six or seven miles + wide in the centre. The basin in which the Doraine rested was about midway + between the extreme points, and about two miles inland from the northern + shore. The southern slope of the range descended to a flat plain, or + perhaps moor, some two miles across at its broadest point and ran in + varying width from one end of the island to the other. It was green and + almost entirely devoid of timber. The central eminence from which the + observations were taken was the loftiest of a range of ten or twelve + diminishing hills that formed what might actually be described as the + backbone of the island. The eastern extremity tapered off to a long, + level, low-lying promontory that ended in a point so sharp and wedge-like + that it bore a singular resemblance to the forward deck and prow of a huge + ironclad. The hills, as they approached the plateau, terminated altogether + a couple of miles from the tip of land. The western half of the island + (strictly speaking, it was a separate bit of land, cut off from its + neighbour by the ribbon-like channel), was of a more rugged character, the + hills, in fact, extending to the sea, forming, no doubt, steep and + precipitous cliffs, rising directly from the water's edge. + </p> + <p> + (Since his return, Percival had painted on a large piece of canvas a + fairly accurate outline map of the bisected island as it had appeared to + him from the top of the mountain. This crude map was hung up in full view + of the spectators, and served him well in an effort to make clear his + deductions. His original sketch is reproduced later on in this chronicle.) + </p> + <p> + 2. There was no visible sign of past or present human habitation. + Absolutely nothing appeared to indicate that man had ever attempted to + claim or occupy this virgin land. + </p> + <p> + 3. The channel through the mountain was less than one hundred feet wide. + The walls of this gorge at one point were fully seven hundred feet high, + absolutely perpendicular, and of solid rock. It was as if the hill had + been split wide open with one blow of a tremendous broad-ax. Beyond the + elevation the channel spread out fan-fashion, creating a funnel-like bay + or inlet from the sea. + </p> + <p> + 4. There was no other land in sight. As far as the eye could reach with + the aid of lenses there was nothing but water, a mighty waste of water. + </p> + <p> + 5. The wind, which had veered around to the south, was cold and dry. + </p> + <p> + 6. A curving beach of almost snowy whiteness extended for a mile or so + along the northern shore, about half way between the entrance to the + channel and the eastern point of land. Inside the fringe of trees that + lined this beach stretched what appeared to be a long strip of rolling + meadow-land, reaching far up the hillsides. + </p> + <p> + 7. Monkeys, parrots and snakes abounded in the forest. An occasional + gay-plumaged bird of the toucan variety, but larger than the ordinary + South American species, was seen, while large numbers of plump birds of + the tinamou family went drumming off through the forest at the approach of + the party. Penguins strutted in complete “full dress” among the rocks of + the southern shore. A dead armadillo of extraordinary dimensions was found + near the foot of the slope. It was at least thrice the size of the common + South American mammal. The same could be said of the single iguana + encountered. This large lizard, which was alive, must have been fully ten + feet from head to tail, and gave rise to the belief that the supposedly + extinct iguanodon, described by the scientists as attaining a length of + thirty feet, might any day be discovered in the fastnesses of this + unexplored land. The mere existence of this rather amiable, unfrightened + monster was of the greatest significance. If it were known to man, why had + it never been reported in zoological or natural history journals? + </p> + <p> + 8. The trees on the mountain-side were thick and stunted, with + interlocking limbs that created a sort of endless canopy which the sun was + unable to penetrate. The cool, dry wind that swept the slope would + account, however, for the surprising absence of moisture in soil and + vegetation in the dense shade of the trees. Oak, elm, spruce, even walnut, + and other trees of a sturdy character indigenous to the temperate zone + were identified. What appeared to be a clump of cypress trees, fantastic, + misshapen objects that seemed to, shrink back in terror from the + assaulting breakers, stood out in bold relief upon a rocky point to the + south and west of the observation hill. Their gaunt, twisted trunks leaned + backward from the sea; their shorn limbs, racked by gales, were raised as + if in supplication to the sombre forest behind them. Trunks of enormous + trees that had fallen perhaps a century ago were found half-buried in the + earth, while scattered along the northern base of the range, overlooking + the downs, a few of their gigantic counterparts, alive and flourishing, + raised their lofty heads far above the surrounding forest, and stood like + sentinels, guarding the plain. + </p> + <p> + 9. A small river wound its devious way, with serpentine crooks and curves, + through the downs and across the meadow, emptying into the ocean some + distance east of the gleaming beach. That its source was far up in the + secretive hills was not a matter of conjecture, however; the incessant + hiss and roar of a cataract was plainly heard by the investigators. + </p> + <p> + Here is the crude, hastily sketched map of the island as made by Percival: + </p> + <p> + 1. Position of stranded vessel in basin. + </p> + <p> + 2. Entrance to channel from the north. + </p> + <p> + 3. Entrance to channel from the south. + </p> + <p> + 4. Narrow strip of woodland from channel almost to river's mouth. + </p> + <p> + 5. Strip of meadow-land clear of trees. + </p> + <p> + 6. River. + </p> + <p> + 7. Stretch of lowland leading down to the water. + </p> + <p> + 8. Crest of hill from which observations were taken with range extending + east and west. + </p> + <p> + 9. Point of rocks with cypress trees. + </p> + <p> + 10. Buttress-like west end of island. + </p> + <p> + 11. Dense forest reaching to channel. + </p> + <p> + 12. Rocky cape. + </p> + <p> + 13. Level plateau, without trees. + </p> + <p> + 14. Beach. + </p> + <p> + 15. Penguins. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + After the second reading of the foregoing report, the first being in + English, Percival requested his fellow explorers to verify the statements + contained therein. This they did promptly. He then went on: + </p> + <p> + “I am delegated by Captain Trigger and the officers of this vessel, after + a conference just concluded,—and of which you are all well aware,—to + put before you as briefly and as clearly as possible the decision that has + been reached. I may as well confess in the beginning that this decision is + based on the recommendations of the party who went to the top of the + mountain. It is out of the question for the people on board this vessel to + go ashore until further investigations have been made. For the present, we + are all safe here on board the ship. We don't know what perils exist in + the absolutely unexplored country that surrounds us. Additional parties + are to be sent out to explore the island, especially the eastern section + of it. There is no use mincing matters. We are confronted by a very plain + situation. It is possible, even probable, that we are the first human + beings ever to set foot on this land. If that be true, we are now so far + out of the path of the few ships and steamers sailing these southern seas + that there is small hope or chance of a speedy rescue. As a matter of + fact, it isn't likely that we will be discovered until the island itself + is discovered, if you see what I mean. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't the slightest chance that the ship we're now standing on will + ever float again. Even if the engines could be put in order,—and + that is possible, I am told,—the vessel cannot be raised. If anybody + has been nursing that sort of hope, he may as well get rid of it. It's no + good. We are here to stay, unless help comes from the outside. There's the + plain English of it. We may have to live here on this island, like poor + old Robinson Crusoe, for years,—for a great many years. I'm going to + stop just a few seconds to let that soak into your brains. We've got to + face it. We've got to make the best of it. It is not for Captain Trigger + or me or any one else to say that we will not be taken off this island + some time—maybe sooner than we think. Whaling vessels must visit + these parts. That's neither here nor there. We've got our work cut out for + us, friends. We've got to think of the present and let the future take + care of itself. Now, here are the facts. We cannot remain on board this + wreck. We've got to go to work, every man, woman and child of us. I don't + know what can be cultivated on this island, but we've got to find out, and + when we find out we've got to begin raising it. If we don't, my friends, + we'll starve to death in a very short time. And what's more, if we do not + get out there and put up houses to live in, we'll freeze to death when + winter comes along. + </p> + <p> + “According to calculations, winter is still five or six months away. We + won't get it, I dare say, before next April or May. All you have to do is + to take a look at all these trees around here to realize that we are a + long way from the tropics. It gets as cold as blazes here in the dead of + winter, I can tell you that. We've got to build homes. We've got to build + a camp,—not a flimsy, half-way sort of camp, but a good, solid, + substantial one, my friends. There is what you might call a minority + report in regard to the situation. Captain Trigger asked me to speak for + him and others who look at it as I do. Mr. Landover, who is, I understand, + one of the leading bankers in the United States of America, contends that + we are well enough off as we are, on board the Doraine, where we've got + cabins and beds and shelter from the elements. He may be right. All I have + to say to him is this,—I don't believe I mentioned it at this + conference, Mr. Landover, simply because I'm one of those unhappy + individuals who always think of the brilliant things I might have said + when it's too late to say them,—all I have to say is this: if Mr. + Landover and his supporters expect to sit snugly on this ship while the + rest of us build houses and plant crops, and then conclude to come out and + bone the rest of us for a square meal and a nice warm place to sleep, they + are going to be badly fooled. We're all equal here. A couple of million + dollars, more or less, doesn't cut any ice on this little island. What + counts here is muscle and commonsense and a willingness to use both. + </p> + <p> + “A little while ago I asked Mr. Landover how much money he has with him. + He informed me that while it wasn't any of my business, he has about five + hundred dollars in American money and a couple of hundred pesos besides, + but that his letter of credit is still good for fifteen thousand. Mr. + Nicklestick has about five hundred dollars in money, and so has Mr. Block + and one or two others. They've all got letters of credit, express checks, + and so forth, and I suppose there is a wheelbarrow full of jewellery on + board this ship. Now, if money is to talk down here, I wish to state that + the men and women from the steerage have got more real dough than all the + first and second cabins put together. They haven't any letters of credit + or bank accounts in New York, but there are a dozen men in the steerage + who have as much as two or three thousand pesos sewed up inside their + clothes. So far as I can make out, the only people who can afford to hire + anybody to build a hut for them, and pay for it in real money, are the + plutocrats from the steerage. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Landover's letter of credit is good for fifteen thousand if he ever + gets back to New York, but it isn't worth fifteen cents here. His life is + insured for one million dollars, I am told. I don't know who the + beneficiaries are, but, whoever they are, they are going to put in a claim + for the million if he doesn't show up in New York pretty shortly. He is + going to be declared officially dead, and so are all the rest of us, after + a reasonable time has elapsed. Now, I don't say that we are never going to + be rescued. We may be found inside of a month. Some of us don't quite + realize the fix we are in. Mr. Codge, the purser, was saying a little + while ago that a lady from the first cabin nearly took his head off when + he told her it was impossible to send a cable message to her people in + Boston. A number of passengers have already demanded that their passage + money be refunded. + </p> + <p> + “You have doubtless heard how I came to be on board this steamer. I am a + stowaway. I have no standing among you. I haven't a penny in my pocket,—aside + from a luck-piece that doesn't belong to me. I wanted to get back to the + States so that I could carry a gun or something over in France. I wanted + to fight for my country. I wasn't thinking very much about my life when I + started for home and France, but I want to say that I'm thinking about it + now. I don't intend to starve or freeze to death if I can help it. I am + going to fight for my life, not for my country. + </p> + <p> + “This is no time to be sentimental. It is no time to sit down and pity + ourselves or each other. God knows I am just as sorry for myself as you + are for yourselves, but that isn't going to get me anywhere. We've got to + work. That means all of us. It means the women as well as the men. It + means the women with soft, white hands and the men who never did a stroke + of manual labour in their lives, just as much as it means the people who + have never done anything else but work. Something will be found for every + one of us to do, and, ladies and gentlemen, we will have to do it without + whining. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Trigger is accountable for the cargo on board this ship. + Naturally he is opposed to our confiscating anything that has been + entrusted to him for safe delivery. He takes a very sensible attitude, + however. He will officially protest against the removal of anything from + the hold of his vessel, but he will not employ force to resist us when we + begin to land stores, foodstuffs and all that sort of thing. He + understands the situation perfectly. + </p> + <p> + “Now, here is what we will have to do. We must select a site for our camp,—or + town, you may well say,—and we must build upon it without delay. + That is to be our first step. Details will come later. There are over six + hundred of us here. We represent a fair-sized village. We have mechanics, + carpenters, farmers, surveyors, masons,—and merchants, to say + nothing of cooks, housekeepers, and so on. The ship contains all sorts of + tools to work with, canvas for temporary quarters, beds and bedding, + cooking utensils,—in fact, we have everything that Robinson Crusoe + didn't have, and besides all that, we've got each other. We are not alone + on a desert island. We are, my friends, as well off as the Pilgrims who + landed on Plymouth Rock, and we are better off than the hardy colonists + who laid the foundation for the country that flies that flag up there. + Centuries ago bold adventurers set out to discover unknown lands. They + were few in number and poorly equipped. But they ventured into the + wilderness and built villages that grew to be cities. They went through a + thousand hardships that we will never know, and they survived. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Trigger and the others selected me to make this talk to you + because I have had some practical experience in establishing and + developing a camp, such as we will have to build. Experience has taught me + one thing above all others: work, hard work of a constructive nature, is + our only salvation. Unless we occupy ourselves from one day's end to + another in good, hard, honest toil, we will all go mad. That's the long + and the short of it. If we sat still on this boat for thirty days, doing + nothing, we'd lose our minds. There isn't a man in this crowd, I am sure, + who wouldn't work his head off to spare the women an hour of hardship. But + the greatest hardship you women could possibly know would be idleness. + There will be work for every one to do, and we can thank God for it, my + friends. We will have to work for nothing. We will have to help each + other. There is but one class on this island at present, and that is the + working class. + </p> + <p> + “We've all got people at home waiting for us. By this time the whole world + knows that the Doraine is three weeks overdue at Rio Janeiro, and that no + word has been had from her. The ocean is being searched. Our friends, our + relatives are doing everything in their power to get trace of this lost + ship. You may depend on that. In a little while,—a few weeks, at + best,—the ship will be given up for lost. We will be counted as + dead, all of us. That's a hard, cruel thing for me to say, and I hate to + say it,—but we've just got to realize the position we're in. It's + best that we should look at it from the worst possible angle. I do not + speak jestingly when I say that we may as well consider ourselves dead and + forgotten. I am as full of hope and confidence as anybody and I am an + optimist if there ever was one, but I don't work on the theory that God + takes any better care of an optimist than He does of a pessimist. + </p> + <p> + “It will require months, maybe years, for us to construct a ship, and even + then it will not be big enough to transport all of us. The most we can + hope for is a craft that will be stout enough to go out and bring help to + the rest of us. I am trying, at Captain Trigger's suggestion, to convince + you that we can't build a ship, that we can't expect to get away from this + island by our own endeavours, unless we go about it in the proper and + sensible way. That means, first of all, that we must safeguard ourselves + against time. We've got to live and we've got to keep our strength. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Landover has made a very generous proposition. He agrees to give a + hundred thousand dollars to any boat's crew that will take one of these + lifeboats and make port somewhere. He fails to mention the compensation + they are to receive if they never make port. He forgets that this big ship + floundered around for a good many days without sighting anything but + water. He would have been perfectly safe in offering a hundred million + dollars, because he would never be called upon to pay it. I understand, + however, that his offer still stands. + </p> + <p> + “Tomorrow morning surveying parties will be sent ashore to look for a + possible site for our town. Volunteers will undertake this work. As soon + as possible thereafter a temporary camp will be set up, and practically + every one on board will be moved from this ship. Captain Trigger and a few + chosen men will remain on board. It is his wish, ladies and gentlemen. He + is the captain of the Doraine. He will not leave her. We are all here + today, and alive, because Captain Trigger would not leave his ship. We owe + our lives to him. This is not the time to propose three cheers for the + gallant master of the Doraine. It is not the time to cheer for anybody or + for anything. We do not feel like cheering. We've done all the praying + that is necessary, we've offered up all the thanksgiving that the + situation calls for, so now we've got to roll up our sleeves and go to + work.” + </p> + <p> + He, stepped down from the gun-platform. There were no cheers. Every voice + was stilled, every face was set. Many seconds passed before there was even + the slightest stir among those who had listened so intently. + </p> + <p> + Then the few English-speaking people from the steerage began to whisper + hoarsely to their bewildered companions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK TWO + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + The warm, summer season was well-advanced in this far southern land before + the strenuous, tireless efforts of the marooned settlers began to show + definite results. + </p> + <p> + Some six weeks after the stranding of the Doraine, staunch log cabins were + in course of completion along the base of the hills overlooking the clear, + rolling meadow-land to the north and east. Down in the lowlands scores of + men were employed in sowing and planting. The soil was rich. Farmers and + grain-raisers among the passengers were unanimously of the opinion that + almost any vegetable, cereal or fruit indigenous to Argentina (or at the + worst, Patagonia), could be produced here. Uncertainty as to the duration + of the warm period, so vital to the growing and maturing of crops, was the + chief problem. No time was to be lost if there were to be harvests before + the cold and blighting weather set in. + </p> + <p> + It was extremely doubtful if the spring and summer seasons combined + covered more than five months in this latitude. Assuming that the climate + in this open part of the world was anything like that of the Falkland + Islands, the rainy season was overdue. Midwinter usually comes in July, + with the temperature averaging between 35 deg. and 10 deg. above zero over + a period of four or five months. At the time of the wreck, the + thermometers were registering about 70 deg. during the day, and dropping + to 50 deg. or thereabouts after nightfall. This would indicate that spring + was fairly well-advanced, and that midsummer might be figured on as coming + in January. It was now the end of November. Warm weather probably would + last until February or March. Possibly they would be too late with their + planting, but they went about it speedily, determinedly, just the same. + </p> + <p> + All of them had had crop failures before. All of them had seen the labour + of months go for naught in the blight of an evening's frost, or the sweep + of a prairie fire. So here on this virgin isle, in soil whose sod had + never been turned, they sowed from the bins of the slumbering ship. Wheat + and oats and flax, brought from the Argentina plains; potatoes, squash and + beet-root; even beans and peas were tried, but with small hope. And there + were women ready to till the soil and work the gardens, women to draw the + strangely fashioned ploughshares as willing beasts of burden, to wield the + hoe and spade, and to watch for the cherished sprout that was to glorify + their deeds. + </p> + <p> + The ring of the ax resounded in the forest; the clangour of hammer and + nail, the rasp of the saw, the clatter of timber went on from dawn to + dusk,—for there was no eight-hour law in this smiling land, nor was + there any other union save that of staunch endeavour, no other Brotherhood + except that of Man. There was never a question of wage, never a dispute as + to hours, never a thought of strike. Every labourer was worthy of his + hire,—and his hire was food! + </p> + <p> + The Doraine was gradually being dismantled. She was being stripped of + every bit of material that could be used in constructing and furnishing + the huts. The new camp lay not more than a mile and a half from the basin. + A road had been cleared through the wood from the small, hastily + constructed dock and runway on the eastern side of the basin to the open + territory beyond. + </p> + <p> + Material, supplies, equipment were carried through the densely shaded + avenue, and later on, after the warehouses and granaries had been built, + the leafy lane witnessed the transportation of ton upon ton of stores, + patiently borne in hundredweight lots, in bushel bags, in clumsy parcels, + by men whose work seemed endless; wheat, barley, oats, sugar, coffee and + other commodities entrusted to the steamship company for delivery in the + United States. Tobacco, canned and refrigerated meats, olives, flour, figs + and dates in large quantities were included in the vast cargo, to say + nothing of the enormous supply of canned fruits and vegetables. Washed + wool, tanned leather, homespun cotton and woollen cloth, silks, hides, + furs, rugs, laces, linseed oil, blankets,—all these came ashore in + course of time, but of the sinister treasure that had inspired the + destruction of the ship, i.e., the manganese, the rubber, the nitrates, + the copper bars, and the stacks of high explosives, not a pound was moved. + All this was left for another and more leisurely day. + </p> + <p> + In the end, the once luxurious liner was to be reduced to “skin and + bones,” to employ a trite but eminently appropriate phrase. Ultimately she + became a black, unlovely skeleton, bereft of every vestige of her former + opulence. Her decks were torn up and the timbers hauled away to make + floors in the huts; the doors, mirrors, stairways, windows, rails, + carpets, pipes, bathtubs, toilets, lamps, every foot of woodwork from stem + to stern, berths, washbasins, kitchen ranges, boilers,—in fact, + everything that man could make use of was taken from the ship, leaving + nothing of her but a hollow, echoing shell through which the wind howled + or moaned a ghostly requiem. + </p> + <p> + Much of this material was carefully stacked or stored away against the day + when it could be utilized in the construction of a small but sturdy ship, + in which a chosen company of sailors were to fare out to sea once more in + search of the world they had lost. + </p> + <p> + Tireless and indomitable engineers later on succeeded in transferring + portions of the damaged machinery, including dynamos, to the camp, where + in course of time their skill and ingenuity bade fair to triumph over + seemingly insurmountable difficulties in the matter of restoration. + </p> + <p> + Fully six weeks elapsed, however, before the women were allowed to leave + the ship for their new homes on the land, and even then they came but a + few at a time and only as huts were ready and fully equipped to receive + them. Each hut contained a combination kitchen and living-room, with a + single bedchamber. A substantial fireplace, built of stone and mortar, + with a tall chimney at the back, was a feature in every house. The cracks + between the logs, and all chinks, were sealed with thick layers of mortar; + the ceilings, made of stout saplings, were treated in a similar manner, + while the roof, resting on a sturdy ridge-pole, and securely anchored, was + of three layers of poles, interstices mortared and the whole covered with + a vast quantity of seaweed, moss and reeds held in place by several + well-fastened sections of iron railing from the decks of the Doraine. + </p> + <p> + While the huts were uniform in size, shape and construction, there was + nothing to prevent the occupant from subsequently enlarging and improving + his house. For the present, however, the interests of all were best served + by speed and compactness. + </p> + <p> + The superintendent of construction was Algernon Adonis Percival. As a + matter of fact, the end of the first week found him occupying the position + of General Manager for the whole enterprise, an unsolicited honour but one + which he was resolved that no one, great or small, should deride. He had + one stormy “run-in,” as he described it, with Mr. Landover and his group + of satellites. This occurred about the middle of their first week on the + island when practically every able-bodied man from the Doraine was at work + cutting a way through the forest or in constructing the dock at the + water's edge. As the incident is entitled to a very definite place in this + narrative, a more or less extended account of it may be given here and + now, even at the risk of being classed as a digression, or a step backward + in the sequence of the history. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover, Mr. Block, Mr. Nicklestick and two or three other men were + grouped on the after-deck early one morning decrying the brainless scheme + to build a camp out there in the open. Their audience included several + women, among them Mrs. Spofford, Ruth Clinton, Madame Careni-Amori, Madame + Obosky, Mrs. Block and a couple of loquacious Rio Janeiro ladies. + </p> + <p> + Percival bore down upon this group. He wasted no time in getting to the + point. + </p> + <p> + “We've been at work for two days out there, gentlemen, and up to date not + one of you has turned to with the rest of us. The understanding was that—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover whirled on him, white with anger. “That will do!” he + exclaimed. “Clear out! I do not intend to allow any such riff-raff as you + to order me to—Oh, pray do not be alarmed, ladies! This rowdy is not + likely to assault me. Nothing will happen, I assure you. Clear out, you + bum,—do you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + Percival was smiling. “I wish you wouldn't interrupt me, Mr. Landover. As + I was saying, it was understood that every man on this ship who is well + enough to—” + </p> + <p> + “Can't you see that there are ladies present? Haven't you an atom of + decency about you?” + </p> + <p> + “—understood that every man on this ship was to do his share of the + work laid out. I owe these ladies an apology for reminding you in their + presence that the boats are leaving for shore and that if you do not get + off in the next relay you will be compelled to swim to that landing over + there,—and I doubt very much whether any of you can make it.” + </p> + <p> + “Wha-what's that?” demanded Mr. Block. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover was speechless. A hard glitter came to Percival's eyes, the + smile left his lips. + </p> + <p> + “You heard what I said, Mr. Block. I'll make it plainer, however. If you + men don't get into the next boat leaving this ship, I'm going to have you + thrown overboard and made to swim to your work. I regret exceedingly, + ladies, that I have been obliged to resort to harsh words in your + presence, but time is so precious that I can't afford to give them a + private audience.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my goodness gracious!” cried Mrs. Block, twisting her fat hands in an + agony of alarm. “Maybe you better go, Moses. You vas nearly drownded twice + yet in pool at White Sulphur.” + </p> + <p> + “This is the most outrageous, high-handed,—” began Landover, + explosively, but stopped short as Percival levelled his unlovely + forefinger at him. + </p> + <p> + “Cut it out, Mr. Landover,—cut it out,” he snapped, inelegantly. + “Now, listen to me. For two days you and these boon companions of yours + have been loafing on the job. While the rest of us have been working like + dogs, you and your friends,—you needn't look insulted, because by + the looks of things they are your friends,—you've been sitting up + here talking to the ladies, smoking cigars, and telling every one how + successfully you conduct a bank in New York. Now, Mr. Landover, you're not + an old man. If you were, I'd be the first to suggest the easiest sort of + work for you. You are under fifty and you're a strong, healthy man. You + ride every morning in Central Park, you play golf in winter and summer, + and you're one of the men who made Muldoon famous. + </p> + <p> + “You are able to work as the rest of us are working. Your hands are in a + much better condition than mine. If we were in New York, I would take off + my hat to you and admit that you are one of the greatest bankers in the + world, and that you know your business. But we're not in New York. We're + down here on a lonely island. You know how to build and conduct banks, I + know how to build and conduct camps. We have no use for scientific bankers + here, but we have considerable use for experienced camp builders. I have + been put in charge of this work. I'm going to see it through. Up in the + hills I got a full day's work out of my men,—and there were worse + men among them than you will ever be. There were gunmen, knife slingers, + cutthroats and bullies,—but they had to work, just the same. Just a + minute, if you please. I'm not through. I think I appreciate your + position, Mr. Landover. + </p> + <p> + “You regard me as a four-flusher, a tramp,—maybe a thief or worse. I + am but little more than half your age and I am a person of absolutely no + importance. That's neither here nor there. I have been selected to run + this job because Captain Trigger, with Mr. Mott and virtually every other + man on this ship, believes that I know how to handle it. But even that's + neither here nor there. What I'm coming to is this. As long as I am in + charge of this job, every man, woman and child has got to do something. + Just at present there isn't much that the women and children can do, but + there is work for every man who can stand on his feet. You needn't glare + at me. I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Landover. You say you are going to stay + on this ship. Well, I've come here to tell you that you are not going to + do anything of the sort. The women and children are to remain on board + until we've got houses built for them on shore, or until the time comes + when there is work for them to do. If they choose to come ashore + occasionally it will be to watch the men work and to cheer them up with + their presence. But no man is to stay on this ship after we've once got + the real job going out there. Now you've heard my statement, sir. I am + willing to listen for a few minutes to your side of the question. Don't + all speak at once,—and please be careful, there are ladies present.” + </p> + <p> + While Percival did not take his eyes from Landover's face during this + speech, he was aware that Miss Clinton and her aunt had turned abruptly + away and were leaning against the rail a few yards distant, their backs to + him. Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori were regarding him with shining, + approving eyes, while Mrs. Block,—gulping furiously,—clasped + her husband's arm and kept up a constant muttering. Something told him + that Ruth Clinton and Mrs. Spofford had turned against him. + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to say to you,” said Landover, curtly. Turning on his + heel, he joined the two ladies at the rail. He spoke a few words to them + in a lowered tone, and then the three of them strode off without so much + as a glance at the young man. + </p> + <p> + Percival flushed a dull red under his tan. His eyes followed them until + they disappeared around a corner. Down in his heart he hoped that Ruth + would not deny him a fleeting look of encouragement and approval. + </p> + <p> + Landover carried himself like a soldier. He was tall, well set-up, and + almost offensively erect. He was a handsome man of perhaps forty-eight. + His cleanshaven face was firm, aggressive, domineering. There was not a + trace of grey in his dark hair. He typified strength, mentality, + shrewdness and that most essential quality in the standards of wealth and + power,—arrogance. In a word, he personified Finance. + </p> + <p> + “Now, see here, Percival,” began Nicklestick, in a most cavalier manner, + greatly encouraged by the lofty conduct of the Money King, “you know you + can't do this sort of thing. We won't stand for it, not for a minute. We + object to this high-handed business. You got to realize that—” + </p> + <p> + “Object and be hanged!” snapped Percival. “The next thing, you'll be + calling yourselves conscientious objectors. Well, it's no use, + Nicklestick. There's no such animal on board this Ark. I see a couple of + boats returning from shore. You've got about fifteen minutes to shed that + Stein & Bloch suit and jump into something that will never need + pressing again,—your working clothes. I'm doing you a kindness. That + gang out there won't stand for slackers. If you're wise you'll take my + word for it.” + </p> + <p> + He was turning away when Nicklestick intercepted him. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think they would do, Mr. Percival?” he inquired in some + agitation. “We are gentlemen. We got a right to decide for ourselves vat + we shall do. We can pay for—” + </p> + <p> + “You will find a lot of gentlemen out there who have already decided for + themselves,—and very cheerfully, too. You will not be lonely. If you + desire any further information as to the class of labourers you will come + in contact with, Mr. Nicklestick, I would suggest a careful study of the + first cabin list, the second cabin list, and finally the third cabin list, + if you can find such a thing. You will also run up against some excellent + material from the United States Navy, to say nothing of a fine lot of able + seamen. They've adopted a common name. Do you know what they call each + other?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Nicklestick, wiping his brow. “Vat—vat do they call each + other?” + </p> + <p> + “Men,” said Percival, and walked away. + </p> + <p> + He was followed closely by Careni-Amori and Olga Obosky, and at some + distance by the whispering, gesticulating Jews. The great soprano was + profoundly agitated. Obosky, a pace or two behind her, was tense and + silent. Her head was slightly bent. There was a strange, dog-like + expression in her eyes as they regarded the back of Percival's head. + </p> + <p> + “But what will you do?” Careni-Amori was crying, as she clutched his arm. + “He is a great man. He is a millionaire. He owns part of this steamship + line,—so he have inform me. You will not throw him into the water,—yes?” + </p> + <p> + “As sure as you are a foot high, Madame Careni-Amori,” said he, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mon Dieu! You hear him, Obosky? He means what he have say.” + </p> + <p> + “Be careful, my friend,” said Obosky, drawing alongside of Percival. “Do + you not see how the wind blows?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you count the cost of victory? You may lose more than you will + gain.” + </p> + <p> + Percival looked at her intently for a moment; then, in a flash, the + meaning of her words was revealed to him. + </p> + <p> + “Even so, Madame Obosky,” he returned, his jaw setting, “I am a good + loser.” + </p> + <p> + “The spoils do not always go to the victor,” she warned him. + </p> + <p> + “I still have your luck-piece,” said he, smiling as he slapped his + trousers-leg. + </p> + <p> + “It has always brought me luck,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. + “It may continue to do so, who knows? Alas for you, my friend, you may yet + have to turn to me for consolation. It is the ill-wind that blows nobody + good. Am I not shocking, Mr. Percivail?” + </p> + <p> + They had lost Madame Careni-Amori, who was behind them, shrieking a + command through a port-hole to her maid. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in amazement. “I don't know what to think of you, Madame + Obosky.” Then he grinned. “Good Lord! You—you can't be making me an + offer of marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” she cried. “I have had all I want of marriage, my friend. + You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that again. No, no! I + do not desire to marry you, Mr. Percivail. Nothing so dreadful as that! + Suppose we would be married,—what zen? Poof! Because I am an honest + woman I would have to tell you some time zat I have had ze honour to be + once the mistress of a Crown Prince,—and then you would hold up your + holy hands and cry out, 'My God, what kind of a woman is this I have + marry?' and—Oh, but I would not tell you about zat Crown Prince + until we have been married a year or two, so do not look so pleased! In a + year you would be hating me so much zat you would rejoice to hear about + the Crown Prince, and I would be loathing you so much zat I would probably + have to kill you,—because I do not believe in divorce any more than + I believe in marriage. You see? Most women hate their husbands. They never + hate their lovers. It is so difficult to get rid of the one, and so easy + to keep the other,—zat is the explanation. So! Now you may know zat + love is the humblest thing in the world, and passion the noblest, for love + is for the weak while passion is for the strong. Love is easily deceived, + passion never. Love endures, passion conquers. Love is blind, passion is + sight itself. Love rules the world, but passion rules love. Love consents, + passion demands. Love is law, passion is life. I could go on forever, but + I see you do not like my discourse. Zat is because you are already in + love, my friend. Poof! You will get over that!” She laughed. + </p> + <p> + Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the same time + his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting the + honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There was no + denying the physical appeal of the lithe, sinuous Russian; there was no + gainsaying the call of the blood. On the other hand, the American girl + stood for everything his own mother exemplified in flesh and spirit. + </p> + <p> + As it is with all men, he was absolutely incapable of associating passion + with the mother who bore him, or with sisters who marry and give them + nieces and nephews to adore. It was impossible, utterly impossible that + they should have possessed the instincts of this woman beside him. But + even as the thought raced through his mind he experienced the sudden, + almost staggering realization that after all the chief, probably the only + difference between his women and Olga Obosky was that they were good! + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?” he inquired, his eyes + hardening. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said calmly. “But not now. When you have more time, my friend. + I shall be very much interested to hear what you think of me. In the + meantime, I am troubled for you. You are in love with her,—oh, yes, + you are,—and I am very much afraid zat you will lose her if you are + not careful. I am your friend. Be warned in time, Mr. Percivail. She is + sorry for him. Landover. You have humiliated him before all of us. He is + the friend of her family. Go slow, my friend, or she will turn against you + and you will lose her. You have still a good chance. She is more nearly in + love with you than she suspects. A little good judgment on your part, my + friend, and you will win. She will marry you, and when she have done so, + zen you may with impunity toss Mr. Landover in the sea,—but not now, + my friend, not now.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky,” he exclaimed, frankly + puzzled. “I can't make you out at all.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very wise, Mr. + Percivail,” she returned, with a smile. “Au revoir!” + </p> + <p> + Percival went straight to Captain Trigger. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Captain,” he said at once, “I'm up against it with Landover. He + refuses to take orders from me. I don't want to do anything drastic + without consulting you. If you say I'm to let him off, that's the end of + it so far as I'm concerned. Of course, I can't answer for the rest of the + crowd. But if you say I am to go ahead along the line originally laid out, + I'll do it.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with anxiety, + rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across the basin. Then + he turned to the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Landover is one of the owners of this steamship line, Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “So I understand, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “He notified me this morning that he will see that I am dismissed from the + service if I continue to support this silly, suicidal plan to build a camp + on shore.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. And you?” + </p> + <p> + “I promptly tendered my resignation as master of this vessel,” answered + the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “You did?” cried Percival, dismayed. + </p> + <p> + “To take effect when I have tied her safely up to her pier in New York,” + said the old man, striking the rail with his fist. + </p> + <p> + “Great!” cried Percival. + </p> + <p> + “He has just come to me with the complaint that you have threatened to + throw him overboard. Is that true, Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,—in a way. I mentioned an alternative.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Landover is no better than any of the rest of us. You will proceed to + throw him overboard, Percival, if he refuses to do his share of the work.” + </p> + <p> + Percival gulped, and then saluted. + </p> + <p> + “Orders, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Orders!” + </p> + <p> + The young man started away, but the Captain called him back. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do after you have had him thrown into the water?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, dammit all,” exclaimed Percival, “what can I do but jump in and save + his life? You don't suppose I'd let him drown, do you? And, God knows, + nobody else would save it. They want to tar and feather him, as it is, or + lynch him, or make him walk the plank.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + The first of the two boats came alongside, and men began to go clumsily, + even fearfully down the ladders. Throughout the early stages of activity + on shore, the passengers and crew went out in shifts, so to speak. + Percival and others experienced in construction work had learned that + efficiency and accomplishment depend entirely upon the concentration of + force, and so, instead of piling hundreds of futile men on shore to create + confusion, they adopted the plan of sending out daily detachments of fifty + or sixty, to work in regular rotation until all available man power had + been broken in and classified according to fitness and strength. For + example, certain men developed into capable wood-choppers, while others + were useless in that capacity. Each successive draft, therefore, had its + choppers, its strippers, its haulers, its “handy men,”—and its + water-boys. Moreover, this systematic replacement of toilers made it + possible for those who were not accustomed to hard, manual labour to + recover from the unusual tax on strength and endurance. + </p> + <p> + It should be explained, however, that this system was not applied to + individuals selected for the purpose of exploration and research. Four + parties, well-armed and equipped, were sent out to explore both sections + of the island. These expeditions had numerous objects in view: to + determine, if possible, whether the island had ever been visited or + occupied by man; to determine the character of the fruits and vegetables; + extent and variety of animal life; the natural food resources, etc. The + groups were made up of men familiar with nature in the rough. Lieutenant + Platt headed one group, Professor Flattner another, a Bolivian ranchman + and an English horse buyer the remaining two. + </p> + <p> + Abel Landover was to have gone out with the first day's shift to work on + the road through the wood. He refused point-blank to leave the ship. This + state of affairs lasted through the next two days, the banker stubbornly + ignoring the advice and finally the commands of Captain Trigger. In the + meantime he had been joined in his rebellion,—a word used here for + want of a milder one,—by half a dozen gentlemen who did a great deal + of talking about how the Turks were maltreating the Armenians, but, for + fear of being suspected of pro-Germanism, studiously avoided pre-war + dissertations on the conduct of the Russians. + </p> + <p> + The first shift's turn had come around once more in the natural order of + things, and practically all of the men had been landed. Landover had + refused to go out with either of the other shifts. He had stood his ground + obstinately. Percival's ultimatum, sweeping like wildfire throughout the + ship's company, brought nearly every one on board to the rails to see + whether he would carry out his threat. Would he dare throw the great + capitalist, this mighty Croesus, this autocrat, into the sea? + </p> + <p> + The first boat carried off Nicklestick, Block, Shine and the other + objectors. Landover was in his stateroom. + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute,” called out Percival to the oarsmen, as they waited for + him to take his place in the last boat. “We're shy a man, I see.” His eye + ranged the deck. His face was a sickly yellow. It would have been white + save for the tan. “Where is Landover?” he demanded of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + Some one answered: “He went to his cabin a couple of minutes ago,” and + another volunteered: “It's Number 9 on the promenade deck.” + </p> + <p> + Half a minute later Percival rapped peremptorily on the door of Number 9. + </p> + <p> + “We're waiting for you, Mr. Landover,” he called out. + </p> + <p> + “Wait and be damned,” came strongly from the stateroom. “The door is + unlocked. If you put a foot inside this room, I'll shoot you like a dog.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have the satisfaction of killing a mighty good dog,” said + Percival, and threw the door wide open. He did not enter the room, + however. Standing just outside the door, he faced the banker. Landover + stood in the centre of the luxurious cabin, a revolver in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I mean exactly what I say, Percival. I will shoot the instant you put a + foot through that door.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you would,” said Percival, “but, just the same, I'm not + going to chance it. If I ever conclude to commit suicide, I'll go off + somewhere and blow my brains out with my own gun. At present, I have no + thought of committing suicide, so I'll stay right where I am. I didn't + come here to kill you, Mr. Landover. I have no gun with me. I simply came + to tell you that the last boat is leaving, and we are waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + For many seconds the two men looked straight into each other's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Are you coming?” demanded the young man levelly. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” + </p> + <p> + Percival's shoulders sagged. His face wore an expression of complete + surrender. + </p> + <p> + “Well,—if you won't, I suppose you won't,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + A triumphant sneer greeted this abject back-down on the part of the + would-be dictator. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” exclaimed Landover. “You're yellow. You can bully these + poor, ignorant—” + </p> + <p> + He never finished the sentence. Percival cleared the eight or nine feet of + intervening space with the lunge of a panther. His solid, compact body + struck Landover with the force of a battering ram. Before the larger and + heavier man could fire a shot, his wrist was caught in a grip of steel. As + he staggered back under the impact, Percival's right fore-arm was jammed + up under his chin. In the fraction of a second, Landover, unable to + withstand this sudden, savage onslaught, toppled over backwards and, with + his assailant clinging to him like a wildcat, found himself pinned down to + the spacious, inset washstand. + </p> + <p> + The revolver was discharged, the bullet burying itself in the floor. An + instant later the weapon fell from his paralysed fingers. With his free + left hand he struck wildly, frantically at Percival, but with no effect. + The broad back and shoulders of his assailant proved a barrier he could + not drive past. And that rigid, merciless right arm, as hard as a bar of + steel, was pressing relentlessly against his throat, crushing, choking the + life out of him. He was a strong, vigorous man, but he was helpless in the + grasp of this tigerish young fighter from the slopes of the Andes. He + heard Percival's voice, panting in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “I can keep this up longer than you can. I don't want to break your neck,—do + you understand? I don't want to break your neck, Landover, but if you + don't give in, I'll—I'll—” The pressure slackened perceptibly. + “Say it! Now's your chance. Say you've—got enough!” + </p> + <p> + Landover managed to gasp out the word. He could still feel his eyes + starting from his head, his tongue seemed to fill his mouth completely. + </p> + <p> + Percival released him instantly and fell back a yard or so, ready, + however, to spring upon his man again at the first sign of treachery. No + more than sixty seconds elapsed between the beginning and the end of the + encounter. It was all over in the twinkling of an eye, so to speak. In + fact, it was over so quickly that the first man to reach the door after + the report of the revolver rang out, found the two men facing each other, + one coughing and clutching at his throat, the other erect and menacing. + For the first time, Percival took his eyes from the purplish face of the + banker. They fell first upon a head and pair of shoulders that blocked one + of the two port-holes. He recognized the countenance of Soapy Shay, the + thief. To his amazement, Soapy grinned and then winked at him! + </p> + <p> + “The boat is ready to leave, Landover,” said the victor briskly. “We have + no more use for this thing at present,” he went on, shoving the revolver + under the berth with the toe of his boot. The banker stared past him at + the agitated group in the corridor. The man was trembling like a leaf, not + so much from fear as from the effects of the tremendous physical shock. + </p> + <p> + Percival was a generous foe. He experienced a sudden pity,—a rush of + consideration for the other's feelings. He saw the tears of rage and + mortification well up in the eyes of the banker, he heard the + half-suppressed sob that broke from his lips. Whirling, he ordered the + crowd away from the door. “It's all right,” he said. “Please leave us.” He + addressed Soapy Shay. “Beat it, you!” + </p> + <p> + Soapy saluted with mock servility. “Aye, aye, sir. I saw the whole show. + It was certainly worth the price of admission.” Having delivered himself + of that graceful acknowledgment, he effaced himself. + </p> + <p> + “Just a word or two, Mr. Landover,” said Percival as the crowd shuffled + away from the door. “I am sorry this had to happen. Even now I am not sure + that you fully understand the situation. You may still be inclined to + resist. You are not in the habit of submitting to force, reason or + justice. I am only asking you, however, to recognize the last of these. + You will be happier in the end. I don't give a hang how much you hate me, + nor how far you may go to depose me. I don't want your friendship any more + than I want your enmity. I can get along very nicely without either. But + that isn't the point. At present I am in charge of a gang of workmen. + Every man on this ship belongs to that gang, you with the rest. I ask you + to look at the matter fairly, honestly, open-mindedly. You accuse me of + being high-handed. I return the charge. It's you who are high-handed. You + set yourself above your fellow-unfortunates. You refuse to abide by the + will of the majority. I represent the majority. I am not acting for + myself, but for them. God knows, I am not looking for trouble. This job + isn't one that I would have chosen voluntarily. But now that it has been + thrust upon me, I have no other alternative than to see it through. You + ought to be man enough, you ought to be fair enough to see it in that + light. If conditions were reversed, Mr. Landover, and you were in my + place, I would be the last to oppose you, because I have learned in a very + tough school that it pays to live up to the regulations. Everywhere else + in the world it is a question of capital and labour. Here it is a question + of labour alone. There is no such thing as capital. Socialism is forced + upon us, the purest kind of socialism, for even the socialist can't get + rich at the expense of his neighbour. But I'm beginning to lecture again. + Let's get down to cases. Are you prepared to go out peaceably,—I'll + not say willingly,—and do your share on the job as long as you are + physically able?” + </p> + <p> + “I submit to brute force. There is no other course left open to me,” said + Landover hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then. Come along,—we're wasting valuable time here.” + </p> + <p> + “I will follow you in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “You will come now,” said Percival levelly. “You and I, Mr. Landover, are + jointly concerned in the establishment of a very definite order of + discipline. We represent the two extremes.” He stood aside. “Precede me, + if you please.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment's hesitation, the other lifted his chin and walked past the + young man. The corridors were clear. Percival followed close behind. He + kept up a glib, one-sided conversation. + </p> + <p> + “You see, there was no other way to handle you. I was obliged to resort to + punitive measures. That's always the case when you are dealing with + sensible, intelligent, educated men. It is impossible to reason with an + intelligent, educated man. He invariably has opinions, ideas, viewpoints + of his own. He is mentally equipped to resist any kind of an argument. + Take our United States Senators, our Congressmen, even our Presidents. You + can't reason with them. No doubt you've tried it a thousand times, you and + the other capitalists. We've all tried it. You've got to hit 'em on the + head with some sort of a club or big stick if you want to bring 'em to + time. You have to club them to death at the polls, so to speak. Now, you + take these wops. They can't argue. They haven't got that sort of + intelligence. They're considerably like the common or garden variety of + dog. No matter how much you beat them and scold them, you can always get + along with them if you feed them and let them see that you're not afraid + of them. If they once get an idea that you are afraid of them,—well, + it's all off. They begin to be sensible right away, and then they form a + labour union. And the more sensible and intelligent they become, the + easier it is for the labour leaders, the walking delegates, and + blood-sucking agitators to make fools of 'em. It's all a matter of + leadership, Mr. Landover, as you will admit, any way you look at it. Well, + here we are.” + </p> + <p> + Landover paused before starting down the ladder to the boat. He turned to + address Percival in a loud, clear voice. + </p> + <p> + “You will not long be in a position to browbeat and bully the rest of us, + young man. Your reign will be short. I would like my fellow-passengers to + know that I have never refused to work with them. I have merely declined + to work under an outlaw. Life is as dear to me as it is to any one else on + this ship. I am taking this step against my will, rather than subject + myself to further indignities and the cruelties you would inflict if I + held out against you. I am sorry to deprive you of the spectacular hit you + might have made by throwing me into the sea, a treat which you doubtless + led all of these people to expect.” + </p> + <p> + He climbed down the ladder and dropped into the boat. As he took his seat, + he ran his eye along the line of faces above. Finding the persons he + sought, he smiled, shook his head slowly to signify a state of + resignation, and then set his flushed, angry face toward the land. + </p> + <p> + Percival, following him, did not look up at the row of faces. + </p> + <p> + Careni-Amori sang that evening in the main saloon. Signer Joseppi, tired + and sore after his hard day's work, wept, and after weeping as publicly as + possible created a profound sensation by kissing the great prima-donna in + full view of the applauding spectators. Then, to cap the climax, he + proclaimed in a voice charged with emotion that Madame Careni-Amori never + had sung better in all her life! This to an artist who had the rare + faculty for knowing when she was off the key,—and who knew that she + was very badly off on this particular occasion. + </p> + <p> + Percival was standing near the door as Ruth Clinton and her aunt left the + saloon on the way to their rooms. He joined them after a moment's + hesitation. The two ladies bowed coldly to him. He was the essence of + decision. As usual, he went straight to the point. + </p> + <p> + “I can't take back what I did this morning, and I wouldn't if I could,” he + said, falling in beside Mrs. Spofford. “I know you are displeased with me. + Can't we thresh it out now, Mrs. Spofford?” + </p> + <p> + The elder woman raised her chin and stared at him coldly. He shot a glance + past her at the girl's face. There was no encouragement to be found in the + calm, unsmiling eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I fail to see precisely why we should thresh anything out with you, Mr. + Percival,” replied Mrs. Spofford. + </p> + <p> + “It is barely possible that you are not quite clear as to my motives, and + therefore unable to gauge my actions.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand your motives perfectly,—and I approve of them. Your + actions are not so acceptable. Good-night, Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled whimsically at Ruth. “My left hand is rather in need of + attention, Miss Clinton. I suppose I am so deeply in your bad graces that + I may not hope for—er—the same old kindness?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short. “Is this a request or a command? Mr. Percival, I will + be quite frank with you. Mr. Landover is our friend. I am not, however, + defending him in the position he has taken. There is no reason why he + should not do his share with the rest of the men. But was it necessary to + humiliate him, was it necessary to insult him as you did this morning? He + is a distinguished man. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Are you coming, Ruth?” demanded Mrs. Spofford, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “In just a moment, Aunt Julia.” + </p> + <p> + “You will oblige me by coming with me at once. We have nothing more to say + to this young man.” + </p> + <p> + “I have asked him a question. I shall wait for his answer.” + </p> + <p> + “I will answer it, Miss Clinton, by saying it was necessary,” said he + steadily. “There are other distinguished men here who are further + distinguishing themselves by toeing the mark without complaint or cavil. + Mr. Landover was appealed to on three distinct occasions by Captain + Trigger and the committee. He ignored all private appeals—and + commands. The time had come for a show-down. It was either Landover and + his little band of sycophants, or me and the entire company of men on this + ship. It may interest you to know that you and Mrs. Spofford are the only + two people on board, outside of Mr. Landover's retrievers, who blame me + for what I did this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You can hardly expect me to be interested in what other people think of + my position, Mr. Percival,” she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. + </p> + <p> + “No more, I dare say, than Landover cares what they think of his,” was his + retort. + </p> + <p> + She lifted her chin. “I am beginning to appreciate Mr. Landover's attitude + toward you, Mr. Percival,” she said icily. + </p> + <p> + “And to justify it, I suppose,” he said dejectedly. “I want your + friendship, Miss Clinton,—yes, I want a great deal more than your + friendship. You may as well know it. I'm not asking for it,—I'm just + telling you. Please don't go away. I promise not to make myself + ridiculous. You have been good to me, you have been wonderful. I—I + can't bear the thought of losing your friendship or your respect. I just + had to bring Landover to time. You may think there was some other way, but + I do not. At any rate, it isn't a matter that we can discuss. Some day you + may admit that I was right, but I don't believe I will ever see the day + when I will admit that I was wrong. Won't—can't we be friends?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe I can ever feel the same toward you after witnessing + what I did this morning,” said she, shaking her head. “You deliberately, + intentionally degraded Mr. Landover in the presence of others. Was that + the act of a gentleman? No! It was the act of an overbearing, arrogant + bully who had nothing to fear. You took advantage of your authority and of + the fact that he is so rich and powerful that he is practically without a + friend or champion. You knew only too well that ninety-nine per cent of + the people on board this ship were behind you in your attack on him + because he represents capital! You had nothing to fear. No, Mr. Percival, + I don't believe we can be friends. I am sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “You heard what Mr. Landover said to me this morning, Miss Clinton,” said + he, paling. “You heard what he called me. Do you believe these things of + me?” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment. “No, I do not,” she replied slowly. “I + believe that you are all you have represented yourself to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said, with gentle dignity. “I am sorry if I have + distressed you this evening. Please don't think too harshly of me when I + say that I just had to find out how we stand, you and I. Now that I know, + I can only promise not to bother you again, and you may rely on my + promises. I never break them. Good-night, Miss Clinton.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed to Mrs. Spofford, who ignored him, and then to Ruth, a wistful + smile struggling to his lips and eyes as he did so. As he turned away, she + spoke to him. + </p> + <p> + “You mentioned your hand being bad again. If you would like me to dress it + for you,—under the circumstances,—I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” cried Mrs. Spofford in a shocked voice. + </p> + <p> + He put his left hand behind his back. It was the one with which he had + gripped Landover's wrist that morning. The strain had reopened the + partially healed wounds. + </p> + <p> + “I injured it this morning in an encounter with your friend, Miss Clinton. + I can hardly ask you to dress it. Thank you, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “I know all that happened in Mr. Landover's cabin, but even so, I am ready + and willing to do anything in my power to ease the pain you are + suffering.” She spoke calmly, dispassionately, almost perfunctorily. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “I shouldn't have spoken of it,” he said. “It isn't so + bad that I can't fix it up myself. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + She joined her aunt and they made their way in silence to the latter's + stateroom. It was not until after the door was safely locked that Mrs. + Spofford delivered herself of the thought that had been in her mind the + whole length of the slanting corridor. + </p> + <p> + “I hope he will not take advantage of his position to—to bully us—to + bully you, dearest,—he might, you know. He has shown himself to be + perfectly capable of it. And we are so defenceless. No one but Abel + Landover to look to for help if he,—for, of course, no one else + would dare oppose this lawless young,—oh, you need not smile! He has + the power and it is quite plain now that he intends to exercise it. He + will brook no interference—” + </p> + <p> + “I am not afraid of Mr. Percival, Aunt Julia,” said the girl, sitting down + wearily on the edge of the berth. “He is a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “A—a gentleman?” gasped Mrs. Spofford. “Good gracious!” + </p> + <p> + “He will not annoy me,” said Ruth, absently study-ing the tips of her + slim, shapely shoes. “Possess your soul in peace. I think I know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you defending the braggart?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all! I detest him,” cried the girl, springing to her feet, her + face crimsoning. “He is perfectly abominable.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I wouldn't speak quite so loudly, my dear,” cautioned her aunt, + glancing at the door uneasily—“It would be like him to listen + outside the door,—or at any rate, one of his men may have been set + to spy upon—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be silly, Aunt Julia. And don't be afraid. Mr. Percival isn't going + to make us walk the plank for mutiny, or put us in chains,—or + outrage us,—if that is what you are thinking. Now, go to bed, you + old dear, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I insist on your staying in my room, Ruth. He is in love with you.” + </p> + <p> + “He can be in love with me and still be a gentleman, can't he, Aunt Julia? + Don't worry! I shall sleep in my own room. I may even go so far as to + leave my door unlocked.” + </p> + <p> + “What! And if he should come to—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I shan't send him word that it's unlocked, dear,” scoffed Ruth, + finding a malicious enjoyment in her aunt's dismay. “Good-night. Sleep + tight! We must sleep while we have the opportunity, you know. Our lazy + days will soon be over. He says we've all got to work like,—I think + he said dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me. I,—I wonder what is to become of us?” moaned the + wretched lady. “After what he tried to do to Abel Landover, there is no + telling to what lengths he may go in—By the way, has Mr. Landover + reported to Captain Trigger that the fellow attempted to shoot him this + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, Aunt Julia.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think it is his duty to do so. Captain Trigger should take + drastic means to curb this—” + </p> + <p> + “You forget that Mr. Landover maintains that Captain Trigger and all the + other officers are like putty in the hands of Mr. Percival. I am beginning + to believe it myself. He—he has got them all hypnotized.” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn't got me hypnotized!” exclaimed Mrs. Spofford. + </p> + <p> + “In any case, he is in the saddle,” sighed Ruth. + </p> + <p> + “He deliberately tried to kill Mr. Landover,” said the other. “Is nothing + to be done about it? We heard the shot,—every one heard it. And no + one has the courage to say a word about it! What a lot of cowards we are! + I don't see why he refuses to let me take the matter up with the Captain. + Captain Trigger ought to know the truth.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth was silent for a moment or two. “It's hard for me to believe, Aunt + Julia, that he would attack a defenceless man with a revolver. It—it + doesn't seem like him.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have Abel Landover's word for it, Ruth. The bullet grazed his + head. The coward would have killed him most certainly if he had not + succeeded in knocking the pistol out of his hand and overpowering him.” + </p> + <p> + “If I did not believe Mr. Landover to be an absolutely truthful, + honourable man, I—” began Ruth, a little furrow between her + eyebrows, “well, I might still believe a little in Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “And what chance had poor Landover with that highwayman, or whatever he + is, pointing a revolver at him through the porthole and threatening to + blow his brains out if he did not throw up his hands and let Percival + alone?” + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky bandaged Percival's hand. She intercepted him on his way to + Dr. Cullen's cabin. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + During the days and weeks that followed, Percival maintained an attitude + of rigid but courteous aloofness. Only on occasions when it was necessary + to consult with Ruth and her aunt on matters pertaining to the “order of + the day” did he relax in the slightest degree from the position he had + taken in regard to them. + </p> + <p> + In time, the captious Mrs. Spofford began to resent this studied + indifference. She detested him more than ever for not running true to the + form she had predicted; her apprehensiveness gave way to irritation. She + resented his dignified, pleasant “good mornings”; she complained acidly to + Ruth about what she was now pleased to describe as “disgusting + superciliousness.” + </p> + <p> + The truth of the matter was, he failed to take any account whatsoever of + Mrs. Spofford in his calculations; he did not even make a pretence of + consulting her in matters relating to the common good of the common + people, and as she was in the habit of devoting a considerable portion of + her time, energy and executive ability to the interests of the common or + lower class people, the omission was an insult. + </p> + <p> + Nor was his cause benefited by the unnecessary and uncalled for deference + he seemed to feel was due her on account of her age. What had her age to + do with it? No one had ever deferred to her age in New York? She was one + to be reckoned with, she was accustomed to the deference that hasn't + anything at all to do with age. And here she was, shunted to one side, + ignored, disregarded,—she who had been the brains and inspiration of + a dozen charitable enterprises, to say nothing of war-work and very + important activities in opposition to Woman Suffrage! + </p> + <p> + She found little consolation in Landover's contention that the upstart was + bound to hang himself if they gave him rope enough, or in Ruth's patient + reminder that Percival was getting results,—and getting them without + bullying anybody. + </p> + <p> + Ruth accepted the situation with a calmness that exasperated her aunt. She + announced her intention to obey any order the “boss” might issue, without + recrimination, without complaint. And so, when the day came for her to go + forth with other women to do her share of the cooking, washing, cleaning, + and later on the more interesting task of putting the huts in order for + occupancy, she went with a full understanding of what was required of her + and without a word of protest. The women with whom she toiled from early + morn till sombre dusk draped the land were under the immediate direction + of a stewardess of many years experience, an Englishwoman whose husband, + an engineer, had been killed at the time of the explosions. + </p> + <p> + Each night she returned to the ship tired and sore but uncomplaining. Her + strong young body stood the test with the hardiest; her spirit was + unflinching; her heart in the common cause. For she looked ahead with a + clear, far-seeing eye, and saw not one but many winters in this vast, + unguarded prison. And she wondered,—wondered day and night,—what + was ahead of her. + </p> + <p> + She was young. The young do not dream of death. They dream of life, and of + its fullness. What did fate have in store for her? Sometimes she + crimsoned, sometimes she paled as she looked ahead. + </p> + <p> + Bare-armed, her heavy sport skirt caught up with pins, her bonny brown + hair loosely coiled, thick golf stockings and sturdy shoes covering her + legs and feet, she presented a figure that caused more than one heart to + thump, more than one head to turn, more than one pair of eyes to follow + her as she went about her work. Her cheeks and throat and breast and arms + were browning under the fire of the noonday sun, her eyes glowed with the + fervour of enthusiasm; her voice was ever cheerful and her smile, though + touched with the blight that lay upon the soul of all these castaways, was + unfailingly bright. And when she returned “home” at night from her + wageless day of toil, she slept as she never had slept before. + </p> + <p> + Her aunt worked in what was known as the salvage corps. She was one of the + clerks employed in checking out the cargo and other materials seized by + the committee of ten, as the leaders in this singular enterprise were + called. Captain Trigger having protested against the dismantling of the + vessel and the confiscation of its cargo,—which was as far as he + could go,—announced that he would abide by any satisfactory plan to + salvage the property. He required an official, documentary report, + however, in which every item removed was accounted for, with its condition + and value set down and sworn to by responsible persons. The purser, Mr. + Codge, and First Officer Mott represented the Captain in this operation, + while the consignees were properly taken care of by Michael O'Malley + Malone, the lawyer, James K. Jones, the promoter, and Moses Block, the + rubber importer. It is unnecessary to deal further with this feature of + the situation. Suffice it to say, the transaction,—if it may be so + denoted,—was managed with the utmost regularity and formality. + Elderly men and women were chosen for the clerical work which this rather + laborious undertaking entailed. + </p> + <p> + On the crest of the loftiest hill there was established a permanent + observation and signal station. Near the top a sort of combination dug-out + and shanty was constructed by order of Captain Trigger, and day and night, + week in and week out, watches were kept similar to those maintained on + board ship. + </p> + <p> + While the entire company, high and low, worked with a zeal that eventually + resulted in a state of good-natured though intense rivalry in skill and + accomplishment,—while they were generally cheerful and courageous,—there + was a profound lack of gaiety. In the eyes of each and every one of them + lay the never-vanishing shadow of anxiety,—an eternal unspoken + question. The hardest, fiercest faces wore a wistful expression; the + broadest smile revealed a touch of sadness. Over all, however, the + surpassing spirit of kindness and generosity presided. + </p> + <p> + Calamity had softened the hearts in the same crucible that hardened the + hands. The arrogance of the strong mellowed into consideration for the + weak; wisdom and culture went hand in hand with ignorance and brawn; + malice and rancour left the hearts of the lowly and met half-way the + departing insolence of the lofty; fellowship took root and throve in a + field rich with good deeds. The heart of man was master here, the brain + its humble servant. + </p> + <p> + Landover worked hard, doggedly. To all outward appearances, he had + resigned himself to the inevitable. He affected a spirit of camaraderie + and good humour that deceived many. Down in his heart, however, he was + bitterly rebellious. He despised these people as a class. In his + estimation, all creatures who worked for a living were branded with the + obnoxious iron of socialism; he even went so far as to believe that they + were, after a fashion, anarchists! His conception of anarchy was rather + far-reaching; it took in everything that was contrary to his notion of a + satisfactory distribution of wealth. He believed that every man who worked + for a wage was at heart an enemy to law and order. He regarded the + wage-earner as one whose hand is eternally against the employer, + absolutely without honour, justice or reason. The workingman was for self, + always for self,—and to Landover that was anarchy. + </p> + <p> + The thought that people,—men and women,—of the lower classes + possessed physical and mental qualities similar to those possessed by + himself, even in a modified form, was not only repugnant to him but + incredible. They had none of the finer emotions,—such as love, for + instance. He could not conceive of a labouring man loving his wife and + children; it wasn't natural! He pictured the home-life of the lower + classes as nothing short of indecent; there couldn't be anything fine or + noble or enduring in the processes of birth, existence and death as + related to them. Nature took its course with them, and society,—as + represented by the class to which he belonged,—provided for the + litters they cast upon the world. In a word, Abel Landover's father and + grandfather and great-grandfather had been rich men before him. + </p> + <p> + He despised Captain Trigger for the simple reason that that faithful, + gallant sailor was an employee of the company in which he was a director. + It meant nothing to him that Captain Trigger came of fine, hardy, valiant + stock; it meant less to him that he was a law unto himself aboard the + Doraine. For, when all was said and done, Captain Trigger worked for just + so much money per month and doubtless hated the men who paid him his wage. + On board the Doraine,—as was the case with all other vessels on + which he chose to sail,—the banker sat at the Captain's table. But + he did not consider that to be a distinction or an honour; it was his due. + As a matter of fact, he looked upon himself as the real head of the + Captain's table! + </p> + <p> + Half a dozen persons in all that company comprised Landover's circle of + desirables. Of the rest, most of them were impossible, three-fourths of + them were “anarchists,” all of them were beneath notice,—except as + listeners. As for Percival, if that young man was not literally and + actually a bandit, at least he had all the instincts of one. In any case, + he was a “bum.” Whenever Mr. Landover was at a loss for a word to express + contumely for his fellow-man,—and he was seldom at a loss,—he + called him a “bum.” + </p> + <p> + The women on board were divided into three classes in Landover's worldly + opinion: the kind you would marry (rare), the kind you wouldn't marry + (plentiful), and the kind you wouldn't have to marry (common). He put Olga + Obosky and Careni-Amori in this rather extensive third class, and even + went so far as to set what he considered a fair value upon them as human + commodities! + </p> + <p> + He worked with the gang of “log-toters,” a term supplied by Percival. They + were the men who carried or dragged the trimmed tree-trunks from the + forest to the camp site, where they were subsequently hewn into shape for + structural purposes by the more skilful handlers of ax and wedge and saw. + </p> + <p> + A certain man named Manuel Crust was the fore-man of this gang. He was a + swarthy, powerful “Portugee” who was on his way to Rio to kill the pal who + had run away with his wife. He was going up there to kill Sebastian Cabral + and live happily for ever afterward. His idea of future happiness was to + sit by the fireside in his declining years and pleasantly ruminate over + the variety of deaths he had inflicted upon the loathsome Sebastian. In + the first place, he was going to strangle him with his huge, gnarled + hands; then he was going to cut off his ears and nose and stuff them into + the vast slit he had made in his throat; then he would dig his heart out + with a machete; then, one by one, he would expertly amputate his legs, + arms and tongue; afterwards he would go through the grisly process of + disemboweling him; and, then, in the end, he would build a nice, roaring + fire and destroy what remained of Sebastian. Inasmuch as either of these + sanguinary and successive measures might reasonably be expected to produce + the desired result, it will be seen that Sebastian was doomed to + experience at least six horrific deaths before the avenger got through + with him. At any rate, if one could believe Manuel,—and there seemed + to be no end of conviction in the way he expressed himself,—the + luckless home-wrecker, if he lived long enough, was absolutely certain to + die. + </p> + <p> + Landover took a strange fancy to Manuel Crust. He was drawn to him in the + first place by the blasphemous things he said about Percival. In the + second place, he enjoyed Manuel's vituperative remarks about cutting the + liver out of the “boss.” Notwithstanding the fact that Manuel was more or + less given to cutting the livers out of remote and invisible persons,—including + King Alfonso, the Kaiser, Queen Victoria (he didn't know she was dead), + King Manuel, the Czar of Russia, the Presidents of all the South American + republics, the Sultan of Turkey, President Roosevelt, and Sebastian + Cabral,—Mr. Landover positively loved to hear him talk. He made a + point of getting him to talk about Percival a great deal of the time. He + also liked the way in which the prodigious Manuel deferred to him. It + inspired the philanthropic motives that led him to share his very + excellent cigars with the doughty foreman. Moreover, he had something far + back in his mind, had Mr. Abel Landover. + </p> + <p> + Percival was indefatigable. He set the example for every one else, and + nothing daunted him. The sceptics,—and there were many of them at + the start,—no longer shook their heads as they went about what once + had loomed as a hopeless enterprise, for to their astonishment and + gratification the “camp” was actually becoming a substantial reality. + </p> + <p> + The small group of men who, for obvious reasons, had courted the favour of + Abel Landover at the outset, now went out of their way to “stand in” with + the amazingly popular man of the hour. + </p> + <p> + He represented power, he stood for achievement, he rode on the crest of + the wave,—and so they believed in him! Landover may have been a + wizard in New York, but the wizard of Trigger Island was quite another + person altogether,—hence the very sensible defection. + </p> + <p> + These gentlemen openly and ardently opposed him on one occasion, however. + It was when he proposed that the island should be named for the beloved + Captain. They insisted that it be called Percival Island. Failing in this, + they advocated with great enthusiasm, but with no success, the application + of Percival's name to almost every noticeable peculiarity that the island + possessed. They objected fiercely to the adoption of such titles as these: + Mott Haven (the basin); Split Mountain; Gray Ridge (after the lamented + Chief Engineer); Penguin Rocks; The Gate of the Winds; Top o' the Morning + Peak; Dismal Forest (west of the channel); Peter Pan Wood (east of the + channel); Good Luck Channel; Cypress Point; Cape Sunrise (the extreme + easterly end of the island); Leap-frog River; Little Sandy and Big Sandy + (the beaches); Cracko-day Farm; New Gibraltar (the western end of the + island); St. Anthony Falls. Michael O'Malley Malone christened the + turbulent little waterfall up in the hills. He liked the sound of the + name, he claimed, and besides it was about time the stigma of shame that + had so long rested upon the poor old saint was rewarded by complete though + belated vindication. + </p> + <p> + Strange to say, no name was ever proposed for the “camp.” Back in the mind + of each and every member of the lost company lay the unvoiced belief,—amounting + to superstition,—that it would be tempting fate to speak of this + long row of cabins as anything more enduring than “the camp.” + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding his dominant personality and the remarkable capacity he + had for real leadership, Percival was a simple, sensitive soul. He writhed + under the lash of conspicuous adulation, and there was a good deal of it + going on. + </p> + <p> + The satiric Randolph Fitts, notwithstanding his unquestioned admiration + for the younger man, took an active delight in denouncing what he was + prone to allude to as Percival's political aspirations. It is only fair to + state that Fitts confined his observations to a very small coterie of + friends, chief among whom was the subject himself. + </p> + <p> + “You are the smartest politician I've ever encountered, and that's saying + a good deal,” he remarked one evening as he sat smoking with a half dozen + companions in front of one of the completed huts. They were ranged in a + row, like so many birds, their tired backs against the “facade” of the + cabin, their legs stretched out in front of them. “You're too deep for me. + I don't see just what your game is, A. A. If there was a chance to graft, + I'd say that was it, but you could graft here for centuries and have + nothing to show for it but fresh air. Even if you were to run for the + office of king, or sultan or shah, you wouldn't get anything but votes,—and + you'd get about all of 'em, I'll say that for you. To a man, the women + would vote for you,—especially if you were to run for sultan. What + is your game?” + </p> + <p> + Percival smoked in silence, his gaze fixed on the moonlit line of trees + across the field. + </p> + <p> + “And speaking of women, that reminds me,” went on Fitts. “When does my + lord and master intend to transplant our crop of ladies?” + </p> + <p> + “What's that, Fitts?” said Percival, called out of his dream. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies,—what about 'em? When do they come ashore to occupy the + mansions we have prepared for them?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Trigger suggests next week.” + </p> + <p> + “What's he got to do with it? Ain't you king?” + </p> + <p> + “He's got a lot to do with it, you blithering boob.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” drawled Peter Snipe, the novelist, picking doggedly at the + calloused ridges on one of his palms, “some of the women object to moving + in the dark of the moon. They say it's sure to bring bad luck.” + </p> + <p> + “There's quite a mixup about it,” observed Flattner. “Part of 'em claim + it's good luck. Madame Obosky says she never had any good luck moving by + the light of the moon, and Careni-Amori says she doesn't blame her for + feeling that way. Sort of cattish way of implying that the fair Olga could + get along without any moon at all. Professional jealousy, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “I was speaking to Miss Clinton about it today,” remarked Michael Malone. + </p> + <p> + “What does she think about it?” from Percival. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. She asked me what I thought about it.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you tell her?” + </p> + <p> + “I told her I wasn't a woman, and that let me out. Being a man, I'm not + entitled to a vote or an opinion, and I'd be very much obliged to her if + she'd not try to drag me into it,—and to answer my question if she + could. Whereupon she said she was in favour of moving by the light of the + sun, and payin' no attention at all to the moon. Which I thought was a + very intelligent arrangement. You see, if they move in the daytime the + damned old moon won't know anything about it till it's too late and—” + </p> + <p> + “You're the first Irisher I've ever seen who wasn't superstitious, Mike,” + broke in Fitts, with enthusiasm. “It takes a great load off my mind. Now I + can ask you why the devil you've never returned that pocket-knife of mine. + I thought you had some sort of superstition about it. A good many people,—really + bright and otherwise intelligent people,—firmly believe it's bad + luck to return anything that's been borrowed. I suppose I've owned fifty + umbrellas in my time. The only man who ever returned one,—but you + know what happened without my telling you. He got caught in a sudden + shower on his way home from my apartment after making a special trip to + return it, and died some three years later of pneumonia. Sick two days, I + heard. So, as long as you're not a bit superstitious about it, I'd thank + you—” + </p> + <p> + “I'd have you know that I never keep anything I borrow,—that is, + never more than a day. It's against my principles. Don't ask me for your + dommed old knife. I lent it weeks ago to Soapy Shay.” + </p> + <p> + “You did?” cried Fitts, incredulity and relief in his voice. “Much + obliged. I haven't been able to look Soapy in the face for a month. Did he + recognize it?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he did. He kissed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Landover tried to borrow my lead pencil yesterday,” remarked Flattner. + “Finally offered to put up his letter of credit as security. I gave him + the laugh. That lead pencil is worth more than all the letters of credit + lumped together. He wanted to write a note. So I agreed to let him use it + if he wouldn't take it out of my sight and on condition that he didn't + write more than five or six line's. But when he made as if he was going to + sharpen it, I threatened him with an ax. Can you beat that for + wastefulness? These low-down rich don't know the meaning of frugality. + Why, if I hadn't stopped him he might have whittled off five thousand + dollars' worth of lead, just like that. I also had to caution him about + bearing down too hard while he was writing.” + </p> + <p> + “What was he wanting to write a note for?” demanded Malone. “Has he lost + his voice?” + </p> + <p> + “It was a note of apology. He says he never fails to write a note of + apology when he's done something he's ashamed of, or words to that effect. + Lifelong practice, he says.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was he apologizin' to?” + </p> + <p> + “That little nurse, Miss Lake,—the one with the coral earrings. You + know, Mike. I saw you carrying a bucket of water for her yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Her name isn't Lake,” said Malone. “It's Hardwickley. And if you had your + eyes open, you'd have seen me carrying one for her every day, so you + would, my lad.” + </p> + <p> + “The damned villain!” exploded Flattner. “He told me her name was Lake,—word + with only four letters,—and she turns out to have—let's see,—eleven! + I call that pretty shifty work, I do. You can't trust these wizards of + Wall Street. They'll do you every crack, if you don't keep your eye + peeled. Hornswoggled me out of seven letters.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got to watch 'em,” mused Fitts. “What was he apologizing to her + for?” + </p> + <p> + “Something to do with his washing. I don't just remember what it was, but + I think she didn't iron and fold his handkerchiefs properly, or maybe it + was his collars. In any case, he panned her for it, and afterwards + repented. Told me in so many words that he felt like a blooming cad about + it, and couldn't rest till he had apologized.” + </p> + <p> + Fitts took several puffs at his pipe and then remarked: “That man has the + biggest wash of anybody in this camp. I don't see any real reason why he + should change collars three times a day while he's hauling logs down from + the hills. As a matter of fact, what's the sense of wearing a collar at + all? Most of us don't even wear shirts. See here, your majesty,—begging + your pardon for disturbing your thoughts with my foot,—why don't you + issue a manifesto or edict or something prohibiting the use of collars + except on holidays, or at weddings, funerals and so forth?” + </p> + <p> + Percival yawned. “If Landover didn't have a collar on he'd think he was + stark naked. Gosh, I'd like to go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you? We'll call you as soon as we get any news,” said Flattner. + </p> + <p> + “No, I'll stick it out a while longer. I say, Flat, it begins to look as + if there's real wheat coming up over there after all. Old Pedro was + telling me today that it looks like a cinch unless we got it sowed too + late and cold weather comes along too soon. I never dreamed we'd get + results. Putting out spring wheat in virgin soil like this is a new one on + me. If it does thrive and deliver, by gosh, a whole lot of agricultural + dope will be knocked to pieces. I thought spring wheat had to be sown in + land that was ploughed the fall before. What's the explanation?” + </p> + <p> + “You can't explain nature, A. A.,” said Percy Knapendyke. “Nature does so + darned many unnatural things that you can't pin your faith to it at all. + Of course, it was a pure experiment we made. We happened to have a lot of + hard spring wheat, and this alluvial soil, deep and rich, was worth + tackling. Old Pedro was as much surprised as I was when it began to come + up. Using that fertilizer was an experiment, too. He swore it wouldn't + help a bit. Now he just scratches his head and says God did it. We've got + fifty acres out there as green as paint and you can almost see it grow. If + nothing happens we ought to harvest it by the middle of February, and if + God keeps on doing things for us, we may get as much as twenty-five + bushels to the acre. It's different with the oats. You can plant oats on + unploughed land, just as we did, and you can't stop it growing. The oats + field up there along the base of the hills is a peach. Takes about ninety + days for oats to ripen. That means we'll harvest it in about two months, + and we'll beat the cold weather to it. Forty or fifty to the acre, if we + have any luck at all. Potatoes doing well and—Say, did I tell you + what I've found out about that stuff growing over there in the lowlands + beyond the river? Well, it's flax. It's the same sort of thing that grows + in New Zealand. Those plants I was pointing out to you last week,—the + ones with the long brownish leaves, like swords. There's no mistake about + it. I took those two Australian sailors over to look at 'em a day or two + ago and they swear it's the same plant, growing wild. Same little capsule + shaped fruit, with the little black seeds, and everything. I've been + reading up on it in the encyclopedia. You cut those leaves off when they + get to be full size, macerate 'em in water for a few days, sun dry 'em, + and then weave 'em some way or another. We'll have to work that out. + Strongest sort of fibre in the leaves. Makes a very stout cloth, rope, + twine,—all that sort of thing. Opens up a new and important + industry, boys,—particularly obnoxious to married men. We'll be + having dress-making establishments in full blast before you know it, and + model gowns till you can't rest. I almost hate to spread the news among + the women. We won't have a cook, or a laundress, or a school-teacher on + the Island if this dressmaking craze gets started. Every hut along this + row will have a sign beside the door: 'Dressmaking Done Here.' On the + other hand, I doubt very much if we'll be able to get a single tailor-shop + going,—and God knows I'll soon need a new pair of pants, especially + if we're going to have regular church services every Sunday, as Percival + says.” + </p> + <p> + “Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie have finally got together on it,” + said Malone gloomily. “For the first time in the history of civilization + we're going to have a combination Catholic and Protestant Church. It's all + arranged. Father Francisco is going to conduct mass in the morning and + Parson Mackenzie is going to talk about hell-fire in the evening. I was + wondering what the Jews are going to do for a synagogue and a rabbi.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't answer that question,” said Peter Snipe; “but Morris Shine + tackled me the other day to write a play for him, something with music and + dancing in it. He's got a great idea, he says. A stock company to use the + church building once a month. Expects to submit his scheme to Fitts as + soon as he gets it worked out, with the idea of having our prize little + architect provide for a stage with ecclesiastical props in the shape of + pulpits and chancels and so forth, which can be removed on short notice. + Suggests, as a matter of thrift, that footlights be put in instead of + altar candles. Free show, free acting, no advertising bills, no royalties + to authors, free programs,—everything free, including supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Grand little idea, Pete,” said Percival. “Are you going to write the + play?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure. My faithful old typewriter is aching to be thumped once more,—and + I've got half-a-dozen extra ribbons, thank God. Good for two long novels + and an epitaph. Just as soon as we can get the ship's printing press and + dining-room type ashore, I'll be ready to issue The Trigger Island + Transcript, w.t.f.—if you know what that means. I see you don't. + Weekly till forbidden.” + </p> + <p> + “I've always wondered what those confounded letters meant down in the + corner of the half-inch advertisements,” said Flattner. “It will be a + rotten-looking newspaper if it's anything like the sheet the Doraine put + out on the trip down. No two letters matched, and some of 'em were always + upside down. Why were they upside down, Pete? You're an old newspaper man. + Tell us.” + </p> + <p> + “Because it's impossible to set 'em sideways. If it was possible, the + blamed printers could do it, you bet. When I was writing leaders on the + Saxville Citizen years ago there was a ruffian up in the composing-room + who used to set whole paragraphs of my best editorials in em quads, and + when I kicked,—Hello, isn't that a lantern, A. A.?” + </p> + <p> + They all scrambled to their feet and peered intently in the direction of + the wooded strip that lined the channel. This whilom conversation came to + an abrupt end. Ghostly forms suddenly took shape in front of other huts, + figures of men that were until then as logs in the shadows. Far off in the + road through the wood, a light bobbed, flashed and disappeared + intermittently, and finally emerged into the open and came steadily + forward. Detached knots of men down the line of huts, twos and threes and + fours, swiftly welded themselves into groups, and, hurrying forward, + swelled the crowd that congregated at the end of the “street.” Two hundred + of them, tired but eager, awaited the arrival of the man with the lantern. + </p> + <p> + These were the men who slept on shore, the unmarried men, those who had no + “feminine hearth,” as Snipe put it dolefully one dark and windy night. + Since supper-time these men had been waiting and watching. But few of them + had gone to bed. Gentleman and roustabout, one and all, were linked + together by a common anxiety. News of the greatest import was expected + during the night. + </p> + <p> + A child was coming to the pathetic little widow of Cruise, the radio-man. + </p> + <p> + Two messengers had gone down to the landing to wait for the report to be + shouted from the afterdeck of the Doraine,—Soapy Shay and Buck + Chizler, the jockey. Now they were returning,—and it was nearing + midnight. + </p> + <p> + They drew near, the lantern buffeting the legs of the one-time diamond + thief as he swung along in the rear of the more active jockey. + </p> + <p> + “It's a girl,” called out Buck to the silent mob. Not a sound, not a word + from the eager crowd. “Mother and kid both doing well,” went on the + jockey, a thrilling note of triumph in his voice. + </p> + <p> + And then a roar of voices went up to the moonlit sky. The shackles of + doubt and anxiety fell away, and every heart swelled with joy and relief. + Men began to dance and laugh. Out in front of the crowd leaped Percival. + </p> + <p> + “Come on now, fellows! Everybody up! Three cheers for the Trigger Island + baby! One—two—three!” + </p> + <p> + And while the last wild cheer was echoing back from, the mountainside: + “Now, three good ones for the baby's mother, God bless her!” + </p> + <p> + Thrice again the exultant yells echoed across the plain, and then out + leaped another excited figure. It was Nicklestick the Jew. + </p> + <p> + “Come on! Come on! Ve got to light the bonfires! Come on! I got the + matches! Vait! Vait! Let's vait while we take off our hats a minute, boys,—take + them off to our baby's father, Jimmy Cruise. No cheers!” + </p> + <p> + A hush fell over the crowd. Every hat came off, and every head was bent. + To many of them James Cruise was no more than a name salvaged from the + shocking experiences of those first dreadful days. Few of them had come in + actual contact with him. The time had been too short. But Betty Cruise, + his widow, was known to all of them, high and low. They had watched over + her, and protected her, and slaved for her, for besides pity there was in + every man's soul the fiercest desire that nothing,—absolutely + nothing,—should be left undone to insure the happy delivery of the + babe they were counting so keenly upon! + </p> + <p> + She was a frail, delicate English girl whom Cruise had married in Buenos + Aires the year before. He was taking her up to his mother's home in + Connecticut. His death,—alas, his annihilation!—almost killed + her. There were those who said she would die of grief. But, broken and + frail as she was, she made the fight. And now came the news that she had + “pulled through.” + </p> + <p> + There were mothers on board with tiny babies,—three or four of them, + in fact,—peevish, squalling infants that innocently undertook to + inspire loathing in the souls of these self-same men. They had no claim + upon the imagination or the sympathy of the eager crowd,—no such + hold as this newcomer, the child born in their pockets, so to speak,—an + expression first employed by an ardent champion of the impending infant in + defending his righteous solicitude when it was attacked by a sophisticated + and at the same time exasperated nurse. + </p> + <p> + Two bonfires were started in the open space known as “The Green.” The huge + piles of twigs and branches had been thrown up earlier in the evening. + They were in plain view of the “lookout” at the top of Split Mountain. It + had been agreed that if it was a boy one fire was to be the signal; if a + girl, two. The “watch” was to share in the glad tidings! + </p> + <p> + The cheering awoke Abel Landover from a sound sleep. He turned in his bunk + and growled: + </p> + <p> + “The damned idiots!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Landover did not like children. He declined to sit up half the night + to find out “how things were going.” So he went to bed, knowing perfectly + well that his three bunkies would come piling in at some outlandish hour + and jabber about the “kid,” and he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep + again for hours. + </p> + <p> + He was what is commonly known as a “grass widower.” His wife rather too + promptly married inside of a month after leaving Reno, and, much to her + own gratification and joy, proceeded to have three very desirable children + within a period of five years, causing him a great deal of pain and + annoyance for the reason that their father had once been regarded as his + best friend,—and now he couldn't abide the sight of him. He hated + children. Now you know the kind of a man he was. + </p> + <p> + Five tired and thoughtful men were going to bed a little later on in one + of the huts. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we call her?” came from Randolph Fitts, as he threw one of his + clay-covered shoes into the corner. + </p> + <p> + “There's only one name for her,” said Percival firmly, from the edge of + his bunk. “We'll call her Doraine.” + </p> + <p> + “Good shot!” cried Peter Snipe. “I had two names in mind, but Doraine's + got 'em both beat. It may not be as pretty as Angelica, but it's more + appropriate. Mortimer was the other name I had in mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Yep,” was the smothered decision of Michael Malone. His shirt came off, + and then he spoke more distinctly. “We can't do better than to name her + after her birthplace. That's her name. Doraine Cruise. It sounds Irish. + Got music in it. All Irish names have,—leaving out Michael and + Patrick and Cornelius and others applied solely to the creatures who don't + take after their blessed mothers and who grow up to be policemen and + hod-carriers, with once in awhile a lawyer or labour-leader to glorify the + saints they were named for, and—Yes, begorry, Doraine's her name.” + </p> + <p> + And so it was that, with an arbitrary quaintness, the babe was named + without so much as a thought of consulting the mother. They assumed a + proprietary interest in her, a sort of corporate ownership that had as its + basis a genuine affection for and pride in Cruise's widow. It did not + occur to one of them that she ought to have been considered in the matter + of naming her own child; they went to sleep perfectly satisfied that when + the question was put to a general vote on the morrow there wouldn't be a + single dissenting voice against the name they had selected. + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Cruise herself would be very grateful to them for the prompt + assistance they had given her at a time when she was in no condition to be + bothered with minor details! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + The death of Betty Cruise occurred the second day after her baby was born. + In a way, this lamentable occurrence solved a knotty problem and pacified + two warring sexes, so to speak. For, be it known, the women of the Doraine + took a most determined stand against the manner in which the men, viva + voce, had arrogated unto themselves the right to name the baby. Not that + any one of the women objected to the name they had given her; they were, + in fact, pleased with it. But, they protested, this was a matter over + which but one person had jurisdiction, and that person was Betty Cruise. + If it was not a mother's privilege to name her own child,—especially + in a case where the infant's father was in no position to decide the + question for her, whether she consented or no, then all they could say was + that things had come to a pretty pass. + </p> + <p> + At any rate, they were going to see to it that the baby was not named by a + mob! + </p> + <p> + Ruth Clinton went straight to Percival. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you have named the baby, Mr. Percival,” she said, prefacing her + remark by a curt “good morning.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time she had spoken to him in many days. Their ways not + only lay apart but she had made a point of avoiding him. She stopped him + this morning as he was passing the hut in which she and her aunt were to + live with two of the American nurses. + </p> + <p> + The three young women had spent several days in the making and putting up + of some very unusual and attractive window curtains and portieres; + painting the stones that framed the fireplace, the crude window-casings + and door jamb; and in draping certain corner recesses which were to + achieve dignity as clothes closets. They were scrubbing the floor when + Percival passed on his way to the “office.” + </p> + <p> + His “office,” by the way, was a rude “lean-to” at the extreme outer end of + the street. It was characteristic of him to establish headquarters at a + point farthest removed from the approach to the camp from the ship. Fitts + was perhaps the only person who sensed the real motive back of this + selection. Every one else attributed it to an amiable conclusion on + Percival's part to sacrifice himself for others by walking almost twice as + far as any of them. As a matter of fact, he had nothing of the sort in + mind. He deliberately arranged it so that all operations should be carried + on between headquarters and “home.” It was his plan to drive inward + instead of outward, to push always in one direction. In other words, + thought Fitts quite correctly, he “never had to look behind him for + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + To save his life, Percival could not subdue the eager, devouring gleam + that flashed into his eyes as he looked into hers. He could have cursed + himself. A swift warm flush raced from her throat to her cheeks. Her + direct, steady gaze faltered under fire, and a confused, trapped + expression flickered perceptibly for a moment or two. He mistook it for + dismay, or, on second thought, even worse,—displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “I—I can't help it,” he stammered, surprised into voicing the + thought that was uppermost. “You know how I feel. I—I—” + </p> + <p> + But she had recovered her self-possession. “Do you really think you have + the right to name Mrs. Cruise's baby?” she inquired coolly. + </p> + <p> + He managed a wry, deprecatory smile. “Everybody seems to like the name, + Miss Clinton. The more I think of it myself, the better it sounds. I tried + it out last night in all sorts of combinations. It fits nicely into almost + any family tree—even Nicklestick's. Just say it to yourself. Doraine + Nicklestick. Try any name you like. Doraine Smith, Doraine Humperdinck, + Doraine Landover—even Doraine Shay—and, I tried it out with + Clinton. Doraine Clinton. Don't you like it? I even tried Percival. It + isn't quite so satisfying tacked onto a name like mine,—and it's a + poor beginning for Fitts,—but with good, sensible surnames, it's + fine.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't a question of how it sounds, Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you like Doraine Clinton?” + </p> + <p> + “I like almost anything better than Ruth. I suppose most people loathe the + names that other people have given them.” + </p> + <p> + “No one knows that better than I. I sometimes wonder what they might have + called me if I were a girl. Nothing as nice as Doraine, or Ruth, I'll bet + my soul on that. Something like Guinevere Aphrodite, or Desdemona Venus, + or—” + </p> + <p> + “We are getting away from the subject,” she interrupted crisply. “Has it + occurred to you that poor little Mrs. Cruise might like to name her own + baby? Why should you men take it upon yourselves to choose a name for her + child? Don't you think you were a trifle high-handed in the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, if Mrs. Cruise doesn't like Doraine, we will—” + </p> + <p> + “You will suggest another, I suppose,” she broke in scornfully. “Well, I + may as well inform you that you are about to strike a snag,” she went on, + a trifle inelegantly in her desire to be emphatic. “We intend to see to it + that the mother of that baby gives it a name of her own choosing.” + </p> + <p> + “May I inquire just who you mean by we?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “The women,—three hundred of us, Mr. Percival, that's who. I for one + happen to know that Betty Cruise chose a name long ago. Her heart is set + on naming the baby after her mother,—Judith, I think it is. That's + the name she wants, but do you imagine she will have the hardihood or the + courage, poor little scrap, to oppose you, Mr. Percival? I mean you, + personally. She thinks your word is law. She would no more think of + defying you than she would think of—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Miss Clinton,” he interrupted gently, “but don't you think + that's a trifle far-fetched? I am not a dictator, you know. I fancy Mrs. + Cruise knows that, even if you do not.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard all about your meeting last night,” she went on ruthlessly, + her eyes flashing. “How you suggested the name, how you settled the + question to suit yourself, and how you called the men together this + morning and told them that the child was to be called Doraine before you + asked them to vote on it. Vote on it! What a travesty! And no one had the + nerve to stand up and say a word for that poor little woman. Oh, you've + got them well-tamed, Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the two nurses had appeared in the doorway, and several other + women at work down the line, scenting the fray, were approaching. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you'd better call off the vote, Mr. Percival,” said one of the + nurses, eyeing him unflinchingly. + </p> + <p> + “I can't call it off. The men adopted the name unanimously. I have no + right to set aside their decision, no matter how hastily it was made,” + said he, beginning to bridle now that he tasted concerted opposition. + </p> + <p> + “I warn you that I intend to call the women,—and what few men there + are with minds of their own,—together this evening to see that Betty + Cruise gets fair play,” said Ruth. “When she hears that we are behind her, + she'll have the backbone to tell you men to mind your own business and—” + </p> + <p> + “Have I a mind of my own or not, Miss Clinton?” he interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly have,” she declared with conviction. + </p> + <p> + “Then you may expect me to be one of the men to attend your meeting. Good + morning.” He lifted his hat, smiled and walked briskly away. + </p> + <p> + “He'll crab the whole thing,” observed one of the women, and despite her + vocal rancour there was an admiring expression in her eyes as they + followed him down the road. + </p> + <p> + “If he wants to call that baby Andrew Jackson or George Washington, he'll + have his way,” said another. “Sex won't make any difference to him.” + </p> + <p> + “You just wait and see,” said Ruth, quivering with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, how you must hate him, Miss Clinton,” cried one of her + house-mates. + </p> + <p> + “I only wish I were a man,” cried the other, clenching her fists. + </p> + <p> + “It would simplify matters tremendously,” came in dry, masculine tones + from the outskirts of the group. They turned and discovered Randolph + Fitts. He was smiling sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite see what you mean, Mr. Fitts,” said Ruth, after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Because if you were a man, Miss Clinton, you wouldn't even think of + hating him. You'd love him.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Clinton stared at him for a second or two and then, whirling, entered + the hut. Her cheeks were burning. Who shall say whether the tears that + sprang to her eyes as she fell to work scrubbing in the corner were of + anger or self-pity? + </p> + <p> + Briefly, the situation became quite strained as the day wore on. Women + gathered in little knots to discuss the unprecedented “nerve” of the men. + By nightfall they were pretty thoroughly worked up over a matter that had + mildly amused them at the outset of the day. A comparatively small + proportion had cared one way or the other in the beginning. Most of them + did not care at all. Given time, however, to digest the thought, aided by + such seasoning as could be supplied by a half dozen determined and more or + less eloquent voices, they came in the course of a few hours to the + conclusion that they never had heard of anything so outrageous, and, to a + woman, were ready to fight for little Mrs. Cruise's rights! + </p> + <p> + Several of the stewardesses and two or three women from the second cabin + were avowed and bitter suffragettes. Indeed, two of the stewardesses, + being English, were of the hatchet-wielding, brick-throwing element that + made things so warm for the pained but bull-headed male population of + London shortly before the Great War began. These ladies harangued their + companions with great effect. + </p> + <p> + To have heard or witnessed the little gatherings at noon and at the close + of work for the day, one might have been led to believe that a grave, + portentous ques-tion of state was involved. Trifling and simple as all + this may seem to the reader of this narrative, it serves a definite + purpose. It reveals to a no uncertain degree the eagerness with which + these castaways reached out hungrily for the slightest morsel that would + satisfy the craving of active minds dulled by the constant, never-absent + thought of self; minds charged with thoughts that centred on something + thousands of miles away; minds that seldom if ever worked in harmony with + hands that toiled. + </p> + <p> + The men took up the gauntlet. They considered themselves challenged. + Notwithstanding the secret conviction that the women were right, they + stood united in defence of their action. Nothing that Percival could say + or do moved them. He tramped from one group of toilers to another, always + meeting with the same grins and laughter when he suggested that they wait + until Mrs. Cruise was able to approve or disapprove of the name they had + chosen. + </p> + <p> + “Good gosh!” cried one of the sailors. “Are you goin' to give in to the + women, boss?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've been thinking it over, boys. I guess we were a little too + officious. We meant well, God knows, but after all, Betty Cruise ought to + be consulted,—now, oughtn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” cried any number of them cheerfully. “It's her kid.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there you are,” he rejoined persuasively. + </p> + <p> + “But how do we know she won't be tickled to death with our name? She'd + ought to be. It's purtier than any name I can think of,” argued Jack + Wales, a sailor. “When she's well enough, we'll tell her the kid's name is + Doraine, and—” + </p> + <p> + “She won't hold back a second, boss, when she finds out that you picked it + for her,” broke in another. “Only a couple o' days ago she was sayin' to + one of the other women in my hearin' that if it was a boy she was goin' to + call him Percival,—and she didn't know what on earth she'd do if it + was a girl. Said she'd probably have to call it after her mother and she + didn't like her mother's name a little bit.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but after all, we did butt in a trifle too soon with our—” + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, don't let any of these here women hear you talk like + that, boss,” groaned Jack Wales. “They'll think we're beginning to hedge. + We got to stand together in this thing. If we don't, they'll rule this + camp sure as you're a foot high. I don't give a dern what the kid's name + is, far as I'm concerned, but on principle, boss, it's just got to be + Doraine. Doraine she is an' Doraine she stays.” + </p> + <p> + Every one of them was good-humoured about it. They were taking it as a + rare and unexpected bit of politics. The thrill of opposition invested + them. They scoffed at surrender. + </p> + <p> + Buck Chizler, however, was seriously affected. He was courting one of the + nurses and he, for one, saw peril in preliminary defeat. + </p> + <p> + “There won't be any living with 'em,” he proclaimed, scowling darkly. “I + know what it is to have 'em get the bit in their teeth. You just can't + manage 'em, that's all. Upset all the dope. Likely to throw you clear over + the fence. Experience ain't a particle of use. The gad don't do a bit of + good. They just shut their jaws, lay back their ears, and—” + </p> + <p> + “We're not talking about race-horses, Buck,” interrupted Percival, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Neither am I,” said Buck forcibly. + </p> + <p> + Ruth went to Olga Obosky. She did so only after a rather prolonged inward + struggle. The Russian's interest in Percival was not moderated by the + reserve supposed to be inherent in women. She was an open idolatress. One + had only to watch the way she followed him with her dark, heavy-lidded + eyes to know what was in her mind. Ruth tried not to despise her. She + tried not to care, when she saw Percival laughing and talking with this + beguiling sensualist,—and it was not an infrequent occurrence. + </p> + <p> + The dancer was seated on the floor of her hut, tailor-fashion, a cigarette + between her lips, her bare arms resting limply on her knees, her body bent + forward in an attitude of extreme fatigue. The three “coryphees” were busy + at work about the place with Olga's maid. Ruth stopped in the doorway. + Olga lazily removed the cigarette from her lips and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I once thought I was very strong and unbreakable,” she said, “but now I + know I am not. See, I am all in, as we would say in America. Suffering + snakes,—how tired I am! That also comes from America. Won't you sit + down, Miss Clinton? We have three or four deck chairs, you see, and some + cushions.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you sit there on the floor, all doubled up and—heavens, it + must be uncomfortable,—if you are so tired? How do you manage your + legs?” + </p> + <p> + “My legs? Oh, my legs are never tired. It is my poor back.” Whereupon she + slowly, gracefully straightened out one of her legs, and without changing + the position of her body, raised it, with toes and instep on a perfect + line, until the heel was some three feet from the floor. Then she swung it + slowly backward, twisting her body sinuously to one side. A moment later + the foot was stretched out behind her and she lifted herself steadily, + without apparent exertion, upon the other knee,—and then stood + erect. Ruth watched this remarkable feat in wonder and admiration. + </p> + <p> + “How—how on earth do you do it?” she cried. “Why,—you must be + as strong as—as—a—” She was about to say horse, and + floundered. + </p> + <p> + “But I trust not as clumsy as one,” said Madame Obosky, stretching her + body in luxurious abandon. “I sit on the floor like zat, my friend, + because my back is tired, not my legs. If I lie back in ze deck chair when + I am tired, I would relax,—and would make so much more regret for + myself when the time came to get up again. Besides, it is a good way to + rest, zis way. Have you never tried it? Do, sometime. The whole body + rests, it sags; the muscles have nothing to do, so they become soft and + grateful. The backbone, the shoulders, the neck,—they all droop and + oh, zey—they are so happy to be like zat. It is the same as when I + am asleep and they are not running errands all the time for my brain. The + Arab sits like zat when he rests,—and the Hindoo,—and they are + strong, oh, so very strong. Try it, sometime, Miss Clinton, when you are + very tired. It is the best way to let go, all over.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth laughed. “I couldn't do it to save my soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do not mean for you to get up as I did, or use your leg as I did. + You could not do zat. You are too old. That is one of the fruits, one of + the benefits of the cruelest kind of child labour. I was a great many + years in making myself able to do zat. See! Put your hand on my leg. Now + my back,—my arm. What you think, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Ruth, in some embarrassment, had shyly obeyed her. The dancer's thigh was + like a column of warm iron; her waist, free as ever from stays, was firm + and somehow suggestive of actual resilience; her shoulders and back + possessed the hard, rippling muscles of a well-developed boy; her shapely + forearm was as hard as steel. Ruth marvelled. + </p> + <p> + “How strong you are!” she cried; “and yet you are slight. You are not as + big as I am, but oh, how much stronger you are!” + </p> + <p> + “I have a perfect figure,” said Olga calmly. “It is worth preserving. No + one admires my body so much as I do myself. I must not get fat. When you + are a fat old woman, I shall still be as I am now. You will diet, and + pray, and rave,—because you are growing old,—and I shall do + none of these things. I eat like a pig, I never pray, and I do not believe + in growing old. But you do not come to see me about myself, Miss Clinton. + You find me sitting idly with my legs crossed, and you are surprise. I + work as I dance,—very, oh, so very hard while I am at ze task,—but + with frequent periods of rest. So I do not wear out myself too soon. It is + the only way. Work for an hour, rest for ten minutes,—relax and + forget,—and you will see how well it goes. Why do you come? Is it to + talk about the baby?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is, Madame Obosky. I have come to ask you to use your influence + with Mr. Percival. You—” + </p> + <p> + “But I have no influence with Mr. Percivail,” interrupted the other, + staring. + </p> + <p> + Ruth flushed. “You are his friend. You—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes,—but nothing more than zat. You too are his friend, Miss + Clinton.” + </p> + <p> + “I see little or nothing of Mr. Percival,” said Ruth stiffly. “We are not + friends,—not really friends.” + </p> + <p> + “But you admire him, eh? Quite as much as I admire him,—and as every + one else does.” + </p> + <p> + “There are certain things about him that I admire, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “You admire him for the same reason that I admire him. Because he has a + most charming and agreeable way of telling me to go to the devil. Is that + not so?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Obosky!” + </p> + <p> + “It comes to the same thing. If you would like me to put it in another + form, he has a very courteous way of resisting. He is most aggravating, + Miss Clinton. He is most disappointing. He should be like soft clay in our + hands, and he isn't. Is that not so?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not possible, Madame Obosky, that we,—you and I,—may + have an entirely different viewpoint so far as Mr. Percival is concerned? + Or any other man, for that matter?” Ruth spoke coldly, almost insultingly. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say,” agreed Olga, composedly, not in the least offended by the + implication. “You want to marry him. I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you say that? I do not want to marry that man. I do not want to + marry him, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “How interesting. You surprise me, Miss Clinton. It appears, then, that + our viewpoint is in nowise different, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” + </p> + <p> + “I leave it to your imagination,—and to reflection. Listen! We may + as well be friends. You do not wish to admit it, even to yourself, but you + are in love with him. So am I. The difference between us is that I realize + I can get along without him, and still be happy. I am not jealous, my + dear. If I were, I should hate you,—and I do not. He is in love with + you. You know it perfectly well, because you are not a fool. He is not in + love with me. No more am I a fool. He—” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in love with him!” + </p> + <p> + “So be it,” said Olga shortly. “Have your own way about it. It is not my + affair. You have come to me, however, because you know he loves you and + you know you do not love him. Why, therefore, are you afraid of me?” + </p> + <p> + “It is useless to continue this—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see! You do not wish my girls to hear our conversation.” Without + more ado, she ordered the three girls out of the hut. “Go out and play,” + she commanded. Then, as the girls imparted in haste, she turned to Ruth. + “I am very thoughtless. You are not in the habit of discussing your love + affairs quite so generously as I. Poof! They do not care, those girls. + Love affairs mean nothing to my girls.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no love affair to discuss, Madame Obosky. You need not have sent + them away. Good-bye..There is nothing more to be said—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not go away,—please. You do not know whether to like me or not. + You do not understand me. You have never encountered any woman as honest + as I am, zat is the trouble. Sit down, please. Let us talk. We may be here + together on this island all the rest of our lives, Miss Clinton. It would + not be right for us to hate each other. When you are married to Mr. + Percivail, you will have nothing to fear from me. I give you my solemn + oath on zat, Miss Clinton. Our little world here is too small. If we were + out in the great big world,—well, it might be different then. But, + how, I ask you, is it possible for me to run away with your husband when + there is no place to run away to?” + </p> + <p> + She spoke so quaintly that Ruth smiled in spite of herself. + </p> + <p> + “You are a most extraordinary person, Madame Obosky. I—I can't + dislike you. No, thank you, I sha'n't sit down. I came to see you about + the naming of the baby. I suppose you know that we women have decided to + oppose the—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,—I know,” interrupted the other. “But why should we + oppose? It is a very small matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really believe those men had—or have—the right to give + a name to Betty Cruise's baby? I don't believe it, Madame Obosky.” + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, can you blame Mr. Percivail for taking the matter out + of the mother's hands? Mothers are very, oh, so very stupid sometime, you + know. For example, my dear Miss Clinton, you have but to see what Mr. + Percivail's mother did to him when he was an infant. She called him + Algernon Adonis,—and why? Because she thought he was the most + wonderful child in all the world,—and because she was silly. I can + almost hear her arguing now with the father, poor man. One day I asked + Algernon Adonis what name his father called him by,—I was so sure he + would not call him Algernon. He said that up to the day his father died he + called him Bud. That's a toy's name, you see. I am in favour of children + being named by outsiders, disinterested outsiders,—a committee or + something,—men preferably. I think this child should be called + Doraine. Betty Cruise she do not care what she call it now that it is not + possible to call it Jimmy Percivail or Percivail Jimmy. Has it occur to + you that if it had been a boy, all these men would have insisted on Jimmy, + without the Percivail?” + </p> + <p> + “I like the name Doraine,—we all do. What we resent is Mr. + Percival's presumption in—” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you one more thing. Do not permit Mr. Percivail to address + your indignation meeting tonight, for if you do, and he smiles zat nice, + good-humoured smile and tells the ladies zat he is sorry to have displease + them, and zat he is to blame entirely for the blunder,—poof! Zat + will be the end!” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure of that,” said Ruth. “There are some very determined + women among us, Madame Obosky.” A faint line appeared between her eyes, + however,—a line acknowledging doubt and uncertainty. “And you will + not join us in the protest?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Olga, shaking her head. “I am content to let the men have their + way in small things, Miss Clinton. It makes zem—them so much easier + to manage when it comes to the big things. I speak from experience. Once + let a man think he is monarch of all he surveys and he becomes the most + humble of subjects. As I have said before, we may all be here for a long, + long time. No one can tell. So, I say, we must pat our men on the back and + tell zem what great, wise, strong fellows they are,—and how good and + gallant too. Then they will fight for us like the lion, and zey—they + will work for us like the ass and the oxen, because man he enjoys to be + applauded greatly. A man likes to have his hair rubbed gently with the + finger tips. He will smile and close his eyes and if he knew how he would + purr like the cat. But, my dear, he do not like to have his hair pulled. + Zat is something for you to remember,—you and all your determined + women, as you call them.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you understand, Madame Obosky, I—and the other women,—are + thinking only of Betty Cruise in this matter.” + </p> + <p> + “From what I have been told, all these men out here stayed awake half the + night thinking about her, Miss Clinton. They behave like so many + distracted fathers waiting for news from the bed-chamber. Bless their + hearts, you might think from their actions that the whole two—three + hundred of them consider themselves the consolidated father of zat single + infant.” + </p> + <p> + “I must be getting back to my work,” said Ruth abruptly. Her eyes were + shining, her voice was soft and strangely thick. “But,” she went on + bravely, after clearing her throat, “we intend to fight it out with them, + just the same, Madame Obosky.” + </p> + <p> + Olga went to the door with her. + </p> + <p> + “You mean, you intend to fight it out with Mr. Percivail,—you + yourself, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not a personal matter with me, let me remind you once more. He is + their leader. He dominates them. He is the force that holds them together. + That's all.” + </p> + <p> + “And you would render that force impotent, eh? I see. How wise you women + are!” + </p> + <p> + Ruth stopped short, struck by the remark. “Say that again, please.” + </p> + <p> + Olga repeated the words slowly, significantly, and added: “They might have + a worse leader, Miss Clinton.” + </p> + <p> + At another time, Ruth Clinton would have been deeply impressed by the + underlying significance of the Russian's words. But she was at the mercy + of a stubborn, rebellious pride. She chose to ignore the warning that lay + in Obosky's remark. She felt herself beaten, and she was defiant. It was + too late to hark now to the mild, temperate voice of reason. + </p> + <p> + Something rankled deep down in her soul, something she was ashamed to + acknowledge even to herself. It was the disagreeable conviction that + Percival ascribed her activities to nothing more stable than feminine + perversity,—in fact, she had the uncomfortable feeling that he even + went so far as to attribute them to spitefulness. Something in his voice + and manner, as he left her that morning, suggested the kindly chiding of a + wilful child. Well, he should see! + </p> + <p> + “I don't care what it all comes to, Madame Obosky,” she said, a red spot + in each cheek. “He shall not name that baby.” + </p> + <p> + The Russian smiled. “Forgive me for saying that you will not feel so + bitterly toward him when the time comes for him to name your baby.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth's lips fell apart. She stared for a moment in sheer astonishment. + Then she paled with anger. Drawing herself to her full height, she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Are you deliberately trying to make me despise you?” + </p> + <p> + “By no means,” replied the other, quite cheerfully. “I am merely giving + you something to think about, zat is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish!” was all that Ruth flung over her shoulder as she walked away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + It was the noon hour. Scores of men were resting in the shade of the huts + as she strode briskly past. They all smiled cheerily, but there was good + humoured mockery in their smiles. Here and there were groups of women + talking earnestly, excitedly. + </p> + <p> + Abel Landover was leaning in his doorway, watching her approach. His eyes + gleamed. She was very beautiful, she was very desirable. She had been in + his mind for months,—this fine, strong, thoroughbred daughter of a + thoroughbred gentleman. His sleeves were rolled up, his throat was bare; + his strong, deeply lined face was as brown as a berry; if anything, his + cold grey eyes were harder and more penetrating than in the days when they + looked out from a whiter countenance. He was a strong, dominant figure + despite, the estate to which he had fallen,—a silent, sinister + figure that might well have been described as “The Thinker.” For he was + always thinking. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you tackled the 'boss' this morning, Ruth,” he said as she + came up. + </p> + <p> + “I daresay the news is all over the island by this time,” she replied, + still angry. + </p> + <p> + “Was it worth while?” he inquired, a trace of derision in his voice. + </p> + <p> + She was on the point of replying rather emphatically in the negative, when + suddenly she recalled the look in Percival's eyes and the first words he + spoke to her. She caught her breath. Her eyes sparkled, her lips parted in + a rosy smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Landover, it was worth while,” she said, and went on, leaving + him to reflections that were as perplexing as they were unanticipated. + </p> + <p> + She experienced a short spell of triumph. After all, Percival was in love + with her. She did not need Olga Obosky to tell her that. She could see, + she could feel for herself. A certain glee possessed her,—indeed, as + she afterwards succeeded in analysing the sensation, it bordered decidedly + on malice. She had it in her power to make him miserable and unhappy. She + would enjoy seeing him unhappy! + </p> + <p> + The meanness of the woman who longs to injure the man who loves her, + whether loved or unloved, revealed itself for the moment in this + fair-minded, generous girl. (It is a common trait, admitted by many + fair-minded and generous women!) But even as she coddled and encouraged + the little sprout of vengeance, the chill of common-sense rushed up and + blighted it. + </p> + <p> + She had a sickening impression that Percival would fail to play the part + according to her conception. In fact, he was quite capable of not playing + it at all. He would pursue the even tenor of his way—(she actually + made use of the time-honoured phrase in her reflections),—and she + would get small satisfaction out of that. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, there was Olga Obosky to be reckoned with. She was conscious of + a hot, swiftly passing sense of suffocation as the thought of Olga rushed + unbidden into her brain,—for an instant only,—and then came + the reaction: a queer chill that raced over her body from head to foot. + What part would Olga Obosky play in the game? + </p> + <p> + The women congregated on the forward deck of the Doraine after supper that + night. The evening repast was no longer dignified by the word dinner. The + sky was inky black; not a star flickered in the vault above. There were + low, far off mutterings of thunder. The rail lanterns,—few and far + between,—threw their pallid beams down into the rippling basin in a + sickly effort to penetrate the gloom. + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott, smoking their pipes on the makeshift bridge, + studied the throng of women in dour silence. + </p> + <p> + “I understand the farmers are praying for rain,” remarked Mr. Mott, + sniffing the air with considerable satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “It would do no end of good,” said Captain Trigger, without taking his + eyes from the chattering mass below. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Codge, the purser, joined them. + </p> + <p> + “What are they waiting for?” he asked. “Why don't they call the meeting to + order?” + </p> + <p> + “They did that half an hour ago,” said Mr. Mott. “Good Lord, man, can't + you hear them talking? Have you no ears at all?” + </p> + <p> + “But they're all talking at once.” + </p> + <p> + “And why shouldn't they?” demanded the First Officer. “It's their meeting, + isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I met Miss Clinton as I was coming up. She was going to her room. I asked + her how the meeting was getting along. I don't believe she understood me, + because all she said was 'good-night.'” + </p> + <p> + “I guess she understood you, all right,” said Mr. Mott, again sniffing the + air. “Seems to me it's getting a little nearer, Captain Trigger. There's a + little breeze coming up, too.” + </p> + <p> + “A good thunder-storm,—” began the Captain, musingly, but failed to + complete the sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Would settle something besides the dust,” said Mr. Codge, after a + deferential wait of a few seconds. + </p> + <p> + A figure detached itself from the mass on the weirdly lighted deck below + and, approaching the perch of the three officers, came to a halt almost + directly below them. The light of a lantern fell fairly on the upturned, + smiling face of Olga Obosky. + </p> + <p> + “What is the hour, Captain Trigger?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Almost nine, Madame Obosky. + </p> + <p> + “That is nearly two bells, eh, yes? How peaceful you look up there, you + three old owls.” + </p> + <p> + “Come up!” invited the Captain cheerily. She joined them a moment later. + “Tell me, are they leaving a shred of Percival and his band of outlaws?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Codge struck a match and held it for her to light a cigarette. She + inhaled deeply and then expelled the smoke in what seemed like a prolonged + sigh of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “They are very funny, those women,” she said, placing her elbows on the + rail and looking down at the crowd. “Do you know what the trouble is now? + It is this: they cannot think of a way to condemn the action of those men + as a body without also including Mr. Percivail in the verdict.” + </p> + <p> + “How's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Ninety-five per cent, of them want to exonerate Mr. Percivail, but they + don't know how to do it in view of the fact that he is the guiltiest man + of them all. That's why I say they are very funny, those women. They + approve of what he has done in naming the baby, because whatever he does + must be right, but they are almost unanimous in charging that all the + other men out there were wrong. So they are in a great dilemma.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Trigger laughed. “I see. What was Miss Clinton's position in the + debate?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she was one of those who insisted that Mr. Percivail alone be held + accountable, the other men not at all. She was the chairman, you see, and + they were oblige to listen to her at first. But zen, presently, one of + those Brazilian ladies said it was a shame to put all the blame on dear + Mr. Percivail, who is such a gentleman and so splendid and all zat,—and + zen—then zat Mrs. Block jump up and say that if it was not for Mr. + Percivail her husband would have been killed last week when he fell off of + the landing into ten sousand feet of water. And the great Careni-Amori she + get up and say she would die for Mr. Percivail because he is such a + gentleman, and two of those nurses at the same time cry out that he ought + to be in the hospital because he is so worn-out working for other people + zat he can hardly drag his poor feet around. And so it goes. Miss Clinton + has departed, her chin in the air. But she does not deceive me. She has + gone to her room to have a good weeping.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wish they'd get together on something,” growled the Captain; + “so's we can all go to bed and get a few hours' sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Like as not they're keeping the baby awake with all this jabbering,” said + Mr. Codge. “And that isn't good for babies, you know. They've got to have + plenty of sleep. Specially little ones.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me, Captain Trigger, why Mr. Percivail did not come aboard + tonight?” asked Olga suddenly. “They were expecting him.” + </p> + <p> + “And they were disappointed, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say. At any rate, a good many of them kept peering out over the + water most of the time, and listening for the sound of oars.” She laughed + softly. + </p> + <p> + The men chuckled. “Talk about strategy,” said Mr. Mott, “he's a bird at + it. Keeps 'em guessing, he does. By glory, I wish I'd known how to handle + women as well as he does. I might have been married fifteen or twenty + times if I could have kept 'em anxious and worried,—but I couldn't. + I never did have any sense about women. That's why I'm a bachelor instead + of a grandfather.” + </p> + <p> + “He told Miss Clinton he was coming,” said Olga, harking back to the + unanswered question. + </p> + <p> + “I daresay he changed his mind,” said the Captain, rather evasively. + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe zat. There is some other reason. He is not a woman, + Captain Trigger.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, to tell you the truth—but don't let it go any farther, + Madame,—he came aboard just before supper to find out how Mrs. + Cruise is getting along. Dr. Cullen told him exactly what all these women + down there know,—that she's very low,—so he went ashore. Said + something about not wanting to take part in any racket that might disturb + her,—noisy talk, and all that,—and left a bunch of wild + flowers for her in case she was better by morning.” + </p> + <p> + There was a slight noise behind them. Turning, they saw the figure of a + woman in the shadow of the deck house. + </p> + <p> + “Who's there?” demanded Mr. Mott. + </p> + <p> + Ruth Clinton stepped forward into the light. + </p> + <p> + “Did he—did he do that?” she asked huskily. + </p> + <p> + “He did,” said the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “And is she so very ill? I did not know, Captain Trigger.” + </p> + <p> + “She's likely to die, Miss Clinton,—poor little woman.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth was silent for a moment. Then: “Do you think she—she can hear + all that hubbub down there?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure she cannot. But Percival was afraid she could, so he—well, + he thought it best not to make it any worse by adding his groans of agony + when you women tore him limb from limb out here on deck. That's the way he + put it, so don't look at me like that.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth suddenly hung her head and walked away. As she disappeared down the + steps, Mr. Codge remarked, sotto voce: + </p> + <p> + “She isn't as rabid as she was, is she?” + </p> + <p> + “She's got it in for Percival ever since he took that fall out of + Landover,” said Mr. Mott. + </p> + <p> + “Think she's—er—keen on Landover? He's a good bit older than + she is,—twenty years or so, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me, Codge. As I was saying awhile ago, I don't know anything + whatsoever about women. They know all about me, but, gosh, I'm worse than + a baby goat where they're concerned. There's no law against her being in + love with Landover, and there's no law against him marrying a woman fifty + years younger'n himself if he feels like it. Now you take that good + looking Russian over there talking to the Captain. Who knows what's in her + mind? Nobody, sir,—nobody. All I know is that Landover tried to—” + </p> + <p> + “Sh! They've got ears like cats,” cautioned Mr. Codge. + </p> + <p> + “—And she put him in his place so quick it made his head swim. + That's why he's got it in for her so hard. He says she's not fit for + decent women to associate with. On the other hand, if she had been willing + to flirt a little with him, and so on, he would have said all the other + women were cats if they refused to take up with her. That's a man all over + for you, Codge. I hope Miss Clinton ain't considering getting married to + that man. He's one of these here what-do-you-call-'ems? Er—” + </p> + <p> + “Sybarites?” said Codge, who had picked up a good deal from conversations + with Peter Snipe. + </p> + <p> + “That ain't the word,” said Mr. Mott. “Now, I'll lay awake all night + trying to think of that word. Damn the luck!” + </p> + <p> + He fell into a profound state of mental concentration, from which he was + aroused a few minutes later by the swift and almost unheralded shower that + rushed up ahead of the thunderstorm. The rumble of the “apple carts” in + the vault above had suddenly become ominous, and there were fitful flares + of light in the blackness. + </p> + <p> + The indignation meeting broke up in a wild scurry of skirts. It is worthy + of mention that nothing definite had transpired. The speeches of the + ardent suffragettes from the wilds of London were all that the most + exacting could have demanded, for they covered all of the known and a + great many of the unsuspected iniquities that the masculine flesh is heir + to, but except for an introductory sentence or two they failed to touch + upon the object of the meeting. They all began with something like “While + I am frank to admit that Doraine is a very pretty name,” or + “Notwithstanding the fact that Doraine is a lovely name,” or “If I had a + child of my own, I should not in the least object to calling her Doraine,” + and so on and so forth, but they cruelly abandoned the baby in the next + breath, leaving it to be revived by the ensuing speaker. + </p> + <p> + The rain came just in time to prevent a vote being taken on a motion made + by Miss Gladys Spotts. She moved that a committee of three be appointed to + serve notice on Captain Trigger, et al, that it was the unanimous sense of + the meeting that the women should not only have voice and vote on all + public questions, but also representation in the official government. She + had learned that there was talk of electing a mayor, a town clerk, a + treasurer, a sheriff and a board of commissioners, and it ought to be + understood in advance that— + </p> + <p> + The torrent came at that instant, but it requires a very slight stretching + of the imagination in order to understand precisely what Miss Spotts + insisted ought to be understood. + </p> + <p> + It rained very hard all night, and thundered, and lightened, and blew + great guns. Not one, but all of the women, tucked away in their bunks, + wondered how those poor men were faring out there in that black and lonely + camp! + </p> + <p> + The next morning it was still raining. (In fact, it rained steadily for + three days and nights.) Betty Cruise died shortly after daybreak, and with + her death ended the controversy over the naming of her babe. + </p> + <p> + She was the first to be laid to rest in the burying-ground on Cape + Sunrise. Services were conducted on the Doraine by the Reverend Mr. + Mackenzie, assisted by Father Francisco. All work was suspended on the + morning of the funeral. Shortly before noon the entire company walked, in + a long, straggling procession, from the landing to the spot three miles + distant where the lonely grave awaited its occupant. Careni-Amori sang + “Lead, Kindly Light” and “Nearer, my God, to Thee,” at the graveside. + There were tears in a thousand eyes, and every voice was husky. To most of + these people, Betty Cruise meant nothing, but she was to lie out there + alone on the wind-swept point, and they were deeply moved. They all went + back to work after the midday meal, a strangely silent, thoughtful + company,—even down to the lowliest “Portugee.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mott, the gaunt old cynic, surprised every one, including himself, by + adopting the infant! He announced his decision on the day after the + funeral. + </p> + <p> + “That baby's got to have a father and a grandfather and a mother, and all + that,” he declared to Captain Trigger, “and I'm going to be all of them, + Weatherby. It ain't legal, I know, and I reckon I'll have to turn her over + to her proper relatives if they make any demand,—provided we ever + get off this island,—but while she's here she's mine, and that + settles it, and as long afterward as God's willing. Chances are that no + one at home will want to be bothered with an infant that don't actually + belong to 'em, so I shouldn't wonder but what I'll have her always. What + are you laughing at?” + </p> + <p> + “I was just thinking that you didn't mention anything about being a + grandmother to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that meant to be sarcastic?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said the Captain hastily, noting the look in Mr. Mott's + eyes. “But for fear you may think it was, I take it all back, Andrew.” + </p> + <p> + “I laid awake all last night worrying about how lonely and useless and + unoccupied I'm going to be if we stick here on this island for any + considerable length of time, not to say, always, and I made up my mind + that if I had that kid to bring up, life would be sort of worth while. + I'll probably live a good deal longer if I have something to live and work + for. Ain't that so?” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly is,” agreed the Captain. “Do you mind my asking how you're + going to feed it?” + </p> + <p> + “I've got that all attended to,” said Mr. Mott calmly. “I've been to see + three of these women who've got tiny babies, and they've promised between + 'em to nurse this one. It's all fixed, Captain. Of course, I don't know + how it's going to work out, seeing as one of 'em is Spanish, one of 'em + Portugee and the other a full-blooded Indian,—but they're all + healthy.” + </p> + <p> + “It's very noble of you, Andrew,” said the Captain, laying his hand on the + First Officer's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely not,” snapped Mr. Mott. “It's nothing but plain, rotten + selfishness on my part,—and I don't give a damn who knows it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + Inside of a fortnight after the events just chronicled, the women came + ashore to occupy the practically completed huts. + </p> + <p> + The Doraine was deserted except for Captain Trigger and the half-dozen + sailors who remained with him. These sailors were ancient tars whose lives + had been spent at sea. They were grizzled, wizened old chaps. One of them, + Joe Sands, had been an able seaman for forty-six years, and, despite a + perpetual crick in the back, he insisted that he was still an abler seaman + than ninety-five per cent, of the thirty-year-olds who followed the sea + for a living. When Captain Trigger announced his resolve to stay on board, + where he belonged, these vainglorious old seadogs elected to remain with + him to the end. + </p> + <p> + The exodus of women was hastened somewhat by the further listing of the + Doraine. This was due primarily to the removal of thousands of tons from + the holds, the galley and the engine room. A more sinister cause for + alarm, however, was the action of the greatly lightened vessel when a + tidal wave swept into the basin from the north. This came at the tag end + of the storm,—on the third day, in fact. The Doraine seemed actually + to be afloat for a few seconds, heaving, shuddering, groaning. Her bottom, + after scraping and grinding and giving up the most unearthly sounds, + suddenly appeared to have freed itself completely from the rocks on which + it was jammed. She seemed on the point of righting herself. Then she + started to roll over on her side! Almost as abruptly she stopped, + shivered, and then lay still again. But she was not in her old position. + She was lying over at least two degrees farther than before the upheaval. + </p> + <p> + This same, tremendous tidal wave, driven up by the strong wind that had + blown steadily and viciously out of the north for three days,—or + perhaps created by some vast internal convulsion of the earth,—completely + inundated the low-lying point of land known as Cape Sunrise, At least two + miles of the island was temporarily under water. The high ridge lining the + shore alone prevented the sea from hurtling over into the valley to + destroy the fields and gardens and even to imperil the row of huts along + the opposite slope. + </p> + <p> + Out on Cape Sunrise the waters swept over the lonely grave of Betty + Cruise, but fell back baffled when they attacked the foothills that + protected the homes of the living. There were superstitious persons who + read meaning into this startling visitation of the sea. They made ugly + romance of it. For, said they, the lonely spirit of Jimmy Cruise was + trying to reach its mate,—aye, striving to drag her body down to the + bottom of the sea to lie beside his own. + </p> + <p> + As the days went by,—long days that were not governed by any + daylight saving law,—the settlement took on the air and life of a + sequestered village. There was the general warehouse from which stores + were dispensed sparingly by agents selected for such duties. Women and men + went to market and carried home the provender. A fish market was + established; wood-yards, fruit and vegetable booths, a dispensary, and a + general store where leather, cloths of various description, and furs were + to be had by requisition. + </p> + <p> + In speaking of the dispensary, Dr. Cullen complacently announced that the + supply of medicine was limited, but that it was nothing to worry about. He + declared bluntly,—and with a twinkle in his eye,—that people + took too much medicine anyhow. + </p> + <p> + “Medicine is a luxury,” he said. “The more we stuff into people the more + they want, and the less they take the sooner they forget they're sick. As + your doctor, from this time on, I shall be delighted to set your broken + bones, sew up your gashes, and all that sort of thing, but it is precious + little medicine I'll give to you. So don't get sick. The only epidemic we + can have here, according to my judgment, is an epidemic of good health. Am + I right, gentlemen?” + </p> + <p> + The two young American doctors put aside their dignity and grinned. + </p> + <p> + The wines and liquors from the Doraine were brought ashore and locked away + in the cellar beneath the warehouse. It could be had only on the doctor's + orders. + </p> + <p> + “It won't hurt any of us to drink nothing but water for awhile,” said + Percival in discussing the matter; “and the chances are we'll be less + likely to hurt each other if we let the grog alone. There'll be no + drinking on this island if I can help it. I understand some of you men are + planning to put the pulp of the algarobo through a process of fermentation + and make chica by the barrel. Well, if I have anything to say about it, + you'll do nothing of the sort. I know that stuff. It's got more murder in + it than anything I've ever tackled. We can make flour out of that pulp, as + some of you know, and that's all we are going to make out of it. Besides, + we can be decent longer on flour than we can on chica. + </p> + <p> + “We'll find it harder to do without tobacco than without booze, and unless + we discover something to take its place we'll be smokeless in a few weeks. + Professor Knapendyke is experimenting with a shrub he has discovered here. + He says it may be a fairly good substitute if properly cured. But it won't + be tobacco, so I guess we may as well make up our minds to swear off + smoking as well as drinking. I hope there's nothing in the saying that the + good die young. Because if there is, we're in for an epidemic that will + wipe out four-fifths of our population in no time at all. We're going to + be so good we'll die like flies.” + </p> + <p> + The weeks wore on and the fields of grain were harvested. The yield was + not a heavy one, but it was sufficient to justify the rather hap-hazard + experiments. The fifty-odd acres of wheat produced a little over a + thousand bushels. The twenty-acre oat-field had averaged forty bushels. A + few acres of barley, sown broadcast in the calcareous loam along the + coast, amounted to nothing. + </p> + <p> + Primitive means for grinding the grain had been devised. This first crop + was being laboriously crushed between roughly made mill-stones, but before + another harvest came along, a mill would be in operation on the banks of + Leap Frog River. + </p> + <p> + The exploration of the island had long since been completed. In certain + parts of the dense forest covering the western section there were + magnificent specimens of the Norfolk Island pine. Fruits of the citrous + family were found in abundance; wild cherries, wild grapes, figs, and an + apple of amazing proportions and exceeding sweetness. Pigeons in great + numbers were found, a fact that puzzled Professor Knapendyke not a little. + </p> + <p> + He finally arrived at an astonishing conclusion. He connected the presence + of these birds with the remark-able exodus of wild pigeons from their + haunts in the United States in the eighties. Millions of pigeons at that + time took their annual flight southward from Michigan, Indiana and other + states in that region, and were never seen again. What became of this + prodigious cloud of birds still remains a mystery. Knapendyke now advanced + the theory that in skirting the Gulf of Mexico on their way to the winter + roosts in Central America they were caught by a hurricane and blown out to + sea. By various stages the bewildered survivors of the gale made their way + down the east coast of South America, only to be caught up again by + another storm that carried them out into the Atlantic. A few reached this + island, hundreds of miles from the mainland, and here they remained to + propagate. At any rate, the naturalist was preparing to put his + impressions and deductions into the form of a paper which he intended to + submit to the National Geographic Magazine as soon as he returned to the + United States. + </p> + <p> + The more practical Mr. Fitts decided to start a squab farm. + </p> + <p> + A few of the giant iguanas were seen, and many smaller ones. The meat of + the iguana is a great delicacy. There were no beasts of prey, no + herbaceous animals. + </p> + <p> + Lookouts on Top o' the Morning Peak reported the presence of monstrous + birds at rare intervals. Where they came from and whither they went no one + could tell. There were unscalable cliffs and crags at the western end of + the island, and it is possible that they had their nests among them. + </p> + <p> + Lieutenant Platt described the first of these huge birds as being at least + thirty feet from tip to tip. It flew low above the top of Split Mountain + and disappeared beyond the hills to the west. When first descried by one + of the lookouts, this bird was far out over the ocean, approaching the + island from the east. As it soared over the heads of the men, several + hundred feet above them, its wings full spread, it was more like a small + monoplane than a bird. In colour it was a dirty yellow, with a black belly + and head. Before any one could procure a gun from the hut it was out of + range, flying at an incredible speed. A few days later another was seen, + coming from the same direction. It was flying much higher, and a few + futile shots were fired at it. Then, after a week or ten days without a + single one of the monsters being seen, five of them appeared in the west + and flew eastward over the island and out to sea. + </p> + <p> + “What was the name of that passenger-carrying bird they were always + talking about in the 'Arabian Nights'?” inquired Platt. + </p> + <p> + “You mean the roc,” replied Knapendyke. “If it ever really existed outside + of the fairy tales, it is now extinct. The nearest thing to it in size is + the condor, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen some whopping big condors up in the Andes,” said Percival, “but + twelve feet from tip to tip was what the natives called a full-grown + specimen. What do you make of these birds, Flattner?” + </p> + <p> + “After seeing an iguana eighteen feet long, I'm ready to believe anything. + A protracted and an enforced spell of sobriety is the only thing that + keeps me from diagnosing my own case as delirium tremens. There's one + thing sure. Birds as big as these, and iguanas as huge as the three we've + seen,—to say nothing of the enormous flying fish Morris Shine claims + to have seen,—take me back to the Dark Ages. I daresay we're seeing + the tag end of the giants. God knows how old these birds and reptiles are,—hundreds + of years, at least. I'd give almost anything to get one of those birds and + stuff him. There was once a flying animal known as the pteranodon. It has + been extinct for millions of years. Belonged to the class called + pterodactyls. Who knows? If you fellows could shoot for sour apples, I'd + have one of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Christmas and New Year's day, long since past, had been celebrated in a + mild, half-hearted way on board the Doraine. Easter was drawing near, and + Ruth Clinton took upon herself the task of arranging special services for + the children. She was going ahead with her plans when her aunt, with some + bitterness, advised her to consult the “King of Babylon”—(a title + surreptitiously accorded Percival by the unforgiving lady)—before + committing herself too deeply to the enterprise. + </p> + <p> + “It would be just like him to cut Easter out of the calendar altogether,” + said she. + </p> + <p> + “He cannot possibly have any objection to an Easter service,” protested + Ruth, her brow puckering. + </p> + <p> + “There's no telling what he will object to,” said Mrs. Spofford. + </p> + <p> + “He is really quite tenderhearted, and awfully fond of children, you know. + I am sure he will be very much pleased with the—Besides,” she broke + off to say with considerable heat, “Mr. Percival is not as high and mighty + as he imagines himself to be. Other people have something to say about the + management of this camp. You forget,—and so does he perhaps,—that + we have a council of ten. I rather fancy—” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” sniffed her aunt. “He is worse than all the Tammany bosses put + together. The other men on the council of ten eat out of his hand, as Abel + Landover says. His word is law,—or, I should have said, his smile is + law. All he has to do is to grin and the argument is over. I've never seen + anything like the way people give in when he smiles. It is disgusting.” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't forget, Auntie, that he did not smile on Saturday when + Manuel Crust stopped him in front of the meeting-house and said he was + going to take Sunday off from work up in the woods. He didn't smile then, + did he? And there were a dozen men planning to take the day off with + Manuel Crust, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I confess I was frightened,” admitted Mrs. Spofford, with a slight + shudder. “That Manuel Crust is a—a dangerous man. He carries a + knife. I saw it.” + </p> + <p> + “Were your sympathies with Manuel Crust or Mr. Percival? Answer, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, my dear, I—why, of course, they were with Percival. He + was one man against a dozen. Besides, he does represent law and order. I + have never questioned that, have I?” + </p> + <p> + “Weren't you a weeny, teeny bit proud of him yesterday, Aunt Julia?” + </p> + <p> + “Weren't you?” countered the other. + </p> + <p> + “I could have hugged him,” exclaimed Ruth, her eyes sparkling. “I hate + him,—mind you,—but I could have hugged him, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Spofford looked searchingly into the girls clear, shining eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew just how much you hate him, Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + “Be honest, Auntie. What you mean is, how little I hate him; isn't that + so?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you hate him at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the first chance you get, ask him how much I hate him. He will tell + you. Now let's talk about Easter Sunday. I don't in the least see why I + should go down on my knees to Mr. Percival in order to—” + </p> + <p> + “Manuel Crust went down on his knees, didn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be silly! Manuel Crust was leading a strike. I am arranging a + sacred entertainment.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, if I were you, my dear, I would ask him what he thinks about it.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” cried Ruth, “I'll ask him. And what's more, I shall ask him + to sing in the choir. He will love it.” + </p> + <p> + Not only did Percival promise to sing in the choir, but he eagerly offered + to help her with the decorations. But when she announced that she was + going up into the hills in quest of the little red winter berries that + grew in profusion, he flatly put his foot down on the project. + </p> + <p> + “I don't feel any too sure of Manuel Crust and his gang,” said he. + “They're in an ugly mood and they are brutes, Miss Clinton. Don't be + alarmed. They're not likely to molest you or any one else, but I don't + believe in taking chances. Just at present they're pretty sore at me and + they're doing all they can to stir up discord. It will work out all right + in the end, of course. They may be beasts but they're not fools.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it true that Manuel Crust claims that every man should have his + woman?” she asked steadily. + </p> + <p> + He was surprised by the frank, unembarrassed question. “Crust is about as + vile as they make them, Miss Clinton. Most of these fellows are decent, + however.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have not answered my question.” + </p> + <p> + “I will answer it by saying that if he has any such notion as that in his + mind he will have it taken out of him in short order if he attempts to put + it into practice. The women on this island will be protected, Miss + Clinton, if we have to kill Manuel Crust and his fol-lowers. It is true he + has been preaching that sort of gospel among the vicious and ignorant + Portugees and half-casts, but it's all talk. Don't pay any attention to + it.” + </p> + <p> + “We can't help being worried. Suppose his following is much larger than + you think. They are a rough, lawless crowd, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Ninety-five per cent, of the men here are decent. That's the only comfort + I can give you.” He smiled his whimsical smile. “I think you will find + that you will be courted in the regular, old-fashioned way, and proposed + to with as much solemnity and uncertainty as if you were back at home, and + it will be left for you to choose your own husband. We have two ministers + of the gospel here, you know. I predict some rather violent courtships, + and perhaps a few ill-advised marriages, but you may rest assured that no + man is going to claim you until you claim him.” + </p> + <p> + He was looking straight into her eyes. She felt the blood mounting to her + cheek,—and was conscious of a strange, delicious sensation as of + peril stealing over her. + </p> + <p> + “You are most reassuring,” she managed to say, scarcely above a whisper, + and then paused expectant. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards she was shamed by the exquisite pain of anticipation that had + coursed through her in that moment of waiting. She never could quite + account for the temporary weakness that assailed her and left her mute and + helpless under the spell of his eyes. She only knew that she waited + expectant,—for something that never came! What she might have said + in response, what she might have done if he had uttered the words she was + prepared to hear, she did not care to contemplate, even in the privacy of + her own thoughts. She only knew that she was ashamed of the thrill that + went over her and strangely bitter toward him for being the cause of it. + She would not admit to herself that disappointment had anything to do with + it,—for she found herself arguing, nothing could have been more + distressing than to rebuff him when he seemed so eager to help her in her + plans for Easter Sunday. + </p> + <p> + The fact remains, however, that Percival held his tongue, and she never + quite understood why he did. + </p> + <p> + The time and the place of this encounter invited confession. There was a + full moon in the heavens, the night was still, the air crisp with the tang + of October in the north,—and they were alone in the shadow of the + “tabernacle.” Lights gleamed in the little windows that stretched to the + right and left of them. Far off somewhere in the dark, an unseen musician + was gently thrumming a fandango on his Spanish guitar. She had been on her + way home from Careni-Amori's cabin, where she had gained the prima-donna's + promise to sing, when she saw him, walking slowly across the “Green.” His + hands were clasped behind his back, his head was bent. She experienced a + sudden rush of pity for him,—she knew not why, except that he looked + lonely and forgotten. It was she who turned aside from her course and went + out across the Green to join him. + </p> + <p> + “You are most reassuring,” she had said. The dusky light of the moon fell + full upon her upturned face; her shadowy, limpid eyes were looking + straight into his; enchantment charged the air with its soft and + languorous breath,—and yet he looked away! + </p> + <p> + After a moment he spoke. His voice was steady and,—to her,—almost + sardonic. + </p> + <p> + “The day of the cave-man is past. Likewise the cannibal. I think I can + promise that you will neither be beaten nor eaten,—but you do run a + little risk in being abroad on such a night as this,—and alone.” + </p> + <p> + She stiffened. “I don't think there is the slightest danger, Mr. + Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't thinking of danger,” he said. “There is a lot of difference + between danger and consequences. You see, you might have been mistaken in + your man. I might have turned out to be Manuel Crust.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—I was sure it was you,” she stammered, and wished she had + not said it. It was a confession that she knew his figure so well that she + could recognize it in the gloom of the night and at a distance that should + have rendered him almost invisible. + </p> + <p> + “Even so, I am Manuel's brother under the skin,” he said. “Like Judy + O'Grady and the Colonel's lady, you know. However, all's well that ends + well, so what's the use of magnifying the peril that stalks through the + land.” + </p> + <p> + “You were brought up on the good, old-fashioned novels, I see. That's the + language of heroes,—and heroes live only in novels, where they are + perfectly safe from harm, thanks to the benevolent author.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right. I was brought up among the old-fashioned heroes. I lived + through every adventure they had, I longed for every girl they loved, I + envied everything they did, and I dreamed the most beautiful dreams about + prowess and virtue and love. I rather fancy I'm a better man for having + been a swashbuckling boy. I acquired the generous habit of falling in love + with every heroine I read about, and in my thoughts I performed even more + prodigious deeds of valour in her behalf than the hero to whom she + inevitably plighted her troth in the final chapter. In real life, however, + I've never been in a position to do anything more heroic than give up my + seat in trolley-cars to ladies of all ages,—By the way, have you + never longed desperately to be a heroine?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I have,” she cried, smiling in spite of herself. Her eyes were + sparkling again, for the danger was past. “And I have loved a hundred + heroes,—madly.” She hesitated and then went on impulsively: “We + haven't been very friendly, Mr. Percival. Perhaps I am to blame. In any + case, you have been very generous and forbearing. That is more than I have + been. I never thought I could bring myself to the point of saying this to + you. Can't we be friends again?” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to go back to where we were before—Well, before we + clashed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—if you will put it in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't go back to that stage,” he said, shaking his head. “You may have + stood still, Miss Clinton, but I have progressed.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “You will, after you reflect awhile,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She drew back, in a sudden panic. She spoke hurriedly, her composure + wrecked. + </p> + <p> + “I—at least, Mr. Percival, I have done my part. If you do not care + to be friends, I—I have nothing more to say. We must go on just as + we were,—and I am sorry. I have done my part.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not want to distress you,” he said huskily. “If I were to tell you + why it is best for us to go on as we are, you would lose what little faith + you may still have in me. I have not always been able to conceal my + feelings. You do not care as I do,—and I have been pretty much of a + rotter in showing you just how I feel from time to time,—an ordinary + bounder, and God knows I hate the word,—so there's nothing more I + can say without distressing and offending you. I want you to feel + perfectly secure so far as I am concerned. We are out here alone in the + night. If I were to let go of myself now and say what I want to say to + you,—well, you would be frightened and hurt and,—God knows I + wouldn't hurt you for the world. I hope you understand, Miss Clinton.” + </p> + <p> + She had had time to fortify herself. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—I understand,” she said, but not without a strange wonder + filling her mind. + </p> + <p> + He was fair,—and yet he was baffling. She had not expected this rare + trait in him. Men she had known were not like this. The men who loved her,—and + they had been many,—were impetuous and insistent, demanding much and + offering everything,—vain-glorious warriors who counted confidently + on easy conquest. She had come in contact with but one class of men: the + spoiled, cocksure sons of the rich who love in haste and have it over with + while there is yet time to love again. She caught herself guiltily + wondering how many men of her acquaintance would have allowed this + engaging opportunity to pass without making the most of it! And why should + this man be different from the others? She experienced a sharp feeling of + irritation, and out of that sprang the wilful desire to hurt him because + he was different. So she lifted her chin, and looking straight into his + eyes, said: “I understand perfectly. You prefer that I should not put you + in the class with Manuel Crust.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not quite certain that Manuel's way of handling women isn't the best + after all,” he said musingly. “Ride over 'em rough-shod, trample them + under foot, kick them to one side and then ask them whether they love you + or not. If they say they don't, all you have to do is to behave like a + gentleman and leave them alone.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “But suppose they were to say they did love you,—what + then?” + </p> + <p> + “That, I understand, is what they generally do say,—and it causes a + great deal of trouble for the unfortunate gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you never in earnest, Mr. Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “I was very much in earnest a moment ago. You knew how much in earnest I + was or you wouldn't have said that nasty thing about Manuel Crust.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I said it,” she cried. “It was uncalled for,—and I was + deliberately trying to be mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it,” he said quietly. “I don't think any the worse of you for it. + A woman plays fair until you get her into a corner,—and then she + plays fairer than ever to make up for what she did when cornered. Am I not + right?” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply. She was staring past him, down the line of huts. The + door of Olga Obosky's cabin had opened and closed, projecting for an + instant an oblong block of light into the darkness. The figure of a woman, + emerging into the full light of the moon, had caught Ruth's attention. + Percival turned quickly. Together they watched the figure move swiftly + across the Green toward them. Suddenly it stopped, and then, after a + moment, whirled and made off down the line of cabins, soon to be swallowed + up by the gloom. + </p> + <p> + “Were you expecting some one?” inquired Ruth, icily. + </p> + <p> + He was still looking intently into the far-reaching gloom. Neither had + spoken for many seconds. He started, and looked searchingly into her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That was Madame Obosky,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I know. I recognized her,” said she evenly. + </p> + <p> + “And you believe she was coming out here to meet me,—isn't that so?” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up. “I shall have to say good night, Mr. Percival. No! It + is not necessary for you to walk home with me.” + </p> + <p> + He placed himself in front of her. “Would you mind answering my question?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she flashed, “I think she was coming out here to meet you. Permit + me to pass, please.” + </p> + <p> + He stood aside. “Good night, Miss Clinton.” + </p> + <p> + He watched her until the door of her cabin swung open,—and he smiled + as she stood revealed for an instant in the square of light, for she had + obeyed the impulse to glance over her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + She was angry, hurt, disgusted as she slammed the door behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been?” cried out an accusing voice, and Ruth's gaze fell + upon the figure in one of the deck chairs beside the fire. “I have been + waiting for you for—” + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here?” cried the girl, stock-still and staring. + </p> + <p> + “If Mrs. Spofford had not been so entertaining, I should say for hours and + hours,” said Madame Obosky. + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact,” said Mrs. Spofford from her side of the fireplace, + “it hasn't been more than an hour. Madame Obosky came soon after you went + out, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but I saw you just now coming out of your cabin,” cried Ruth + blankly. She had a queer sensation as of the floor giving way beneath her. + </p> + <p> + “You saw—Oh, now I understand!” cried the Russian, with a laugh. + “Zose girls of mine! Zey—they are like so many grandmothers. They + will not go to bed until zey know I am safely tucked in myself. Alas, Mrs. + Spofford, zose girls do not trust me, I fear. If I go out at night alone, + zey instantly put their heads together and shake zem all at the same time. + So that is what has happen, Miss Clinton. One of them,—Alma, I + suspect, because she had a sister who,—Yes, it would be Alma, I am + sure,—in any case, one of zem comes out to get me, so like a + policeman. But still I do not understand something. I have told them I was + coming here to see you. If it was one of my girls, why has she not come?” + </p> + <p> + Ruth had turned away, ostensibly to pull down the little window shade but + really to send a swift searching glance out across the Green. + </p> + <p> + “She went the other way,” she replied, rather breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + Olga sprang to her feet. “Now, what is zat little fool up to?” she cried, + angrily. “If I catch her running out to meet men at zis hour of—” + </p> + <p> + Ruth interrupted her. “She started in this direction but when she saw us, + she turned and went the other way. I was talking to Mr. Percival out near + the meeting-house. About the Easter services, Auntie,” she made haste to + say as Mrs. Spofford looked up in surprise. + </p> + <p> + Olga was looking at her fixedly, an odd expression in her eyes, her lips + slightly parted. + </p> + <p> + “He has promised to help me. He is delighted to sing in the choir. Madame + Careni-Amori will sing two solos. She promises to make Joseppi sing one or + two. I—I was discussing the arrangements with Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “Now I understand,” said Olga, gaily, but with the odd, inquiring look + still in her eyes. “Alma thought it was I. I have zem very well-trained, + those girls. She sees me with a man,—zip! She runs the other way as + fast as she can! That is the height of propriety,—is it not, Mrs. + Spofford?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not quite understand what you mean, Madame Obosky.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did he say it was you?” cried Ruth, hot with chagrin. + </p> + <p> + Olga shrugged her shoulders. “He is so very amiable,” said she. “I dare + say he thought it would please you.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth bit her lip. There was no mistaking the challenge in the Russian's + remark, however careless it may have sounded. + </p> + <p> + “I came to see you about Mr. Percivail's birthday,” said Olga, abruptly + changing the subject. “Some one has suggested zat we all join in giving + him a grand great big celebration. Bonfires, fire-works, a banquet with + speeches, and all zat kind of thing. What do you think, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't like it at all,” said Ruth promptly. “Moreover, why should we + celebrate his birthday? He doesn't deserve it any more than scores of + other—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then we must drop it altogether,” broke in Olga, rather plaintively. + “I thought every one would be in favour of it. But, of course, if there is + the slightest opposition—” + </p> + <p> + “I do not oppose it,” said Ruth coldly. “Pray do not let me upset your + plans.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not my plan. Zat nice, sarcastic Mr. Fitts, and Mr. Malone, and + Captain Trigger, they have proposed it, Miss Clinton, not I. But men never + quite get over being boys. They do not stop to question whether a thing is + right or wrong. I dare say after they have thought a little longer over + it, zey will agree with you that it is foolish to be so enthusiastic about + this fellow Percivail,—and the whole project will dissolve into thin + air.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand was on the latch. She met Ruth's harassed, unhappy gaze with her + indolent, almost insolent, smile. Suddenly the American girl snatched up + her jacket and the little fur collar she had thrown across a chair in the + corner. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't mind, I will walk part of the way home with you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Olga opened the door and looked out. “Thank you,—I am not afraid. + Pray do not think of it,—I cannot permit you to come. It is late,—and + the moon is under the clouds. Good night,—good night, Mrs. + Spofford.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + She quickly closed the door behind her and sped off down the line of now + lightless cabins. A man stepped out of the black shadow beyond the second + cabin and stood in her path. She did not pause, but walked swiftly, + fearlessly up to him, her heart quickening under the thrill of exultation. + He was waiting for her! He had been waiting for her all the long evening. + The time had come! + </p> + <p> + The night was dark now; a strong wind had sprung up to drive the black and + storm-laden clouds across the moonlit sky. She held out her hands with a + little moan of ecstasy,—and then she was in his strong, crushing + arms, pressed fiercely to his breast. + </p> + <p> + “God, can I believe,—is it true? You have come,—you have come + of your own free will,—you are here in my arms!” His hot lips found + hers in a wild, passionate kiss. “Speak to me! Tell me it is all real,—that + I am not dreaming. Oh, Ruth, Ruth,—darling!” + </p> + <p> + Her body stiffened. A convulsive shudder raced over her, and then, for an + instant, she was limp and heavy in his embrace. Then suddenly she threw + her arms about his neck and kissed him furiously, savagely, again and + again,—breaking away at last with a low, suffocating laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Now,—now,-” she cried, “now, what are you going to do with me?” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his head with a jerk, peering into her face, slow to realize the + incredible mistake he had made. He was still under the spell of the + riotous passion that her lustful response had aroused. It had rushed over + him like a great, resistless wave,—hot, delicious, tingling. He had + been amazed, bewildered by the unbelievable craving,—furious and + uncontrolled,—which she revealed in her momentary surrender to the + elemental. The truth began to dawn upon him even before she spoke. Could + this be Ruth,—could this unbridled, voluptuous wanton who clung to + him and smothered him with kisses be the pure, high-minded girl he had + grown to love and revere? She spoke, and then he knew that the consuming + fire in his blood was unholy,—as unholy as the spark that set it + ablaze. + </p> + <p> + “Damn you!” he whispered hoarsely,—but he did not put her away from + him. The lure of the flesh was upon him. It was stronger than his will, + stronger than his love. + </p> + <p> + For months this woman had beguiled him. There had been times when he was + compelled to fight himself,—times when he asked: “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + She was alluring, she was frankly a sensualist; but she was patient, she + was crafty. She knew that he was honourably in love with another, but she + was not deterred by that nor by the conviction that her conquest, if she + prevailed, would be transitory. She had a code of her own. It included an + uncertain element of honour, fixed rather rigidly upon what she would have + called constancy. Singleness of purpose was her notion of morality. She + would not have believed herself to be a bad woman any more than she would + have looked upon her lover as a bad man. To her, morality in its accepted + sense signified no more than the suppression of human emotions and human + sensations. As a matter of fact, she considered herself a good woman if + for no other reason than that she steadfastly had repelled the munificent + appeals of countless infatuated men. Treasure had been laid at her feet, + only to be kicked aside. She calmly spoke of herself as a pearl without + price. She was content to possess, but not to be possessed. That was what + she called self-respect. She was a pagan, but she was her own idol. She + worshipped herself. She would never permit her idol to be desecrated. + </p> + <p> + All this Percival knew,—or rather sensed. He was not above feeling a + queer sort of respect and admiration for her. She was not without + integrity. + </p> + <p> + He had reached the pinnacle of happiness in believing that the girl he + loved was in his arms. He was blind and deaf with ecstasy. The awakening + was a shock. His senses reeled for an instant,—and then Ruth Clinton + went out of his thoughts entirely! + </p> + <p> + “Damn you!” he cried again, and drew her close. “She hates me,—she + will always hate me,” he was mumbling. “Why should I care? Why should I + refuse to take—” Her lips were on his again, warm, firm, voluptuous, + drawing his heart's blood with the resistless power of a magnet. + </p> + <p> + They did not hear the rapid approach of footsteps—heavy, swift as of + one running. A dark, panting figure raced past them, and then another but + a few paces behind. + </p> + <p> + Percival's senses were released. They cast off the bewitching bonds. His + head went up again. In a flash his brain was clear. His arms were still + about her, she was still lying close against him,—but the current of + passion that consumed both of them was checked. + </p> + <p> + “What was that?” she gasped, as if coming out of a dream. + </p> + <p> + He released her, and sprang out into the path to peer fruitlessly after + the unseen runners. The sound of footsteps was rapidly diminishing. + </p> + <p> + They were suddenly aware of women's voices far away to the right. They + were indistinct but there was a sinister significance in the + ever-increasing volume. + </p> + <p> + “There's trouble out there,” said Percival. “Something wrong. Come,—come + along! You must get indoors at once.” He grasped her arm and started + rapidly off in the direction of her cabin. She stumbled at first, but + quickly fell into stride with him. Men's shouts were now added to the + clamour. + </p> + <p> + “I know,—I know,” she cried in his ear. “It has happened, just as I + said it would. Some of these men are beasts.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, there's hell to pay,” he grated. + </p> + <p> + They reached her cabin just as the door was thrown open. The three + startled coryphees filled the entrance. Recognition was followed by a + clatter of agitated voices. Olga was fairly dragged into the cabin. + </p> + <p> + “Bolt your door,” was Percival's command as he turned away. + </p> + <p> + She stood in the door for a moment, looking after him. He passed out of + the radius of light. The chorus of voices grew louder down the way,—like + the make-believe mob in the theatre. + </p> + <p> + Then she closed the door slowly, reluctantly. The three girls watched her + in silence as she stood for many seconds with her hand on the knob, her + eyes tightly shut. + </p> + <p> + She turned and faced them. There was a wry smile on her lips as she + shrugged her shoulders and spread out her hands in a gesture of + resignation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—bolt the door,” she said. As Alma hesitated, her eyes grew + hard, her voice imperative. “Do you know of any reason why you should not + do as both Mr. Percivail and I have commanded?” + </p> + <p> + “No,—no, Madame,” cried Alma hastily. + </p> + <p> + As the heavy wooden bolt fell into place, Olga again shrugged her + shoulders and threw herself into a chair in front of the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + “Put on your clothes,” she ordered. + </p> + <p> + “What is happening, Madame? What is all the noise about?” questioned one + of the girls. + </p> + <p> + But there was no answer. Olga was staring into the fire. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + Percival's blood was still in a tumult as he ran down the line of cabins. + From every doorway men were now stumbling, half-dressed, half-asleep. + Behind them, in many cabins, alarmed, agitated women appeared. Farther on + there were lanterns and a chaotic mass of moving objects. Above the + increasing clamour rose the horrible, uncanny wail of a woman. Percival's + blood cooled, his brain cleared. Men shouted questions as he passed, and + obeyed his command to follow. + </p> + <p> + The ugly story is soon told. Philippa, the fifteen-year-old daughter of + Pedro, the head-farmer, had gone out from her father's cabin at dusk to + fetch water from the little reservoir that had been constructed alongside + Leap Frog River a short distance above the cabins. The pool was a scant + two hundred yards from her home. It was a five minutes' walk there and + back. Half-an-hour passed, and she had not returned. Her mother became + uneasy. Pedro reassured her. He laughed at her fears. + </p> + <p> + “She could not have fallen into the pool,” he said. “You forget the fence + we have built around it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not thinking of the pool, Pedro,” she argued. “Go you at once and + search for her. She is no laggard. She has not stopped in to see one of + the girls.” + </p> + <p> + And Pedro went grumpily forth to search for his daughter. An hour later he + came staggering down from the woods above the pool to meet the dozen or + more friends and neighbours who had set out some-time earlier to look for + the two of them, father and daughter. + </p> + <p> + He bore in his arms the limp, apparently lifeless form of Philippa. He was + covered with blood, he was chattering like a madman. Out of his incoherent + babble the horrified searchers were able to put together the cruel story. + It seems he had heard a faint cry far back in the dense wood,—another + and yet another. Then utter silence. Even the night-birds were still. + Swift, paralysing fear choked him. He tried to call out as he rushed + blindly up from the pool into the forest, but only hoarse, unnatural gasps + left his lips. He fell often, he crashed into the trunks of trees, but + always he went onward, gasping out his futile cries. He knew not how long + he beat through the forest. He was not even sure that it was Philippa's + cry he had heard, but his soul was filled with a great, convincing dread. + He knew that his beloved Philippa, the idol of his heart, the sunshine of + his life, was up there in the woods. Frequently he stopped to listen. He + could hear nothing save the pounding of his own heart, and the wheezing of + his breath, thick and laboured. + </p> + <p> + Then, at last, during one of those silences, he heard something moving in + the darkness near at hand. Something—some one was coming toward him + through the underbrush. He called out hoarsely: “Philippa!” The sound + ceased instantly, and then he heard a whispered execration. Wild rage + possessed him. He plunged forward into the brush. Something crashed down + upon his head, and he felt himself falling forward. The next he knew, he + was trying vainly to rise to his feet. Something hot was running into his + eyes,—hot and sticky. He lifted his hand to his head; it came away + wet. He put his fingers into his mouth,-and tasted blood! It was enough. + His strength came back. He sprang to his feet and rushed onward, shouting, + cursing, calling upon God! He had no recollection of finding his girl. + Apparently everything was a blank to him until long afterwards he saw + lights moving among the trees, and voices were calling his name. + </p> + <p> + Percival and other cool-headed men were hard put to check the fury of the + mob. Men and women, bent on vengeance, made the night hideous with their + curses, howls and shrieks. In their senseless fury they prepared to kill. + They had heard the stories about Manuel Crust and his disciples. Only the + determined stand taken by the small group that rallied to Percival's + support kept the maddened crowd from seeking out these men and rending + them limb from limb. The sailors from the Doraine were the first to listen + to the pleas of the level-headed,—just as they had been the first to + demand the lives of Manuel Crust and his gang. Individually they were + rough men and lawless, collectively they were the slaves of discipline. It + was to their vanity that Percival and the others appealed,—only they + called it honour instead of vanity. The mob spirit was—quelled for + the time being, at least. No one was so foolish as to believe that it was + dead, however. Unless the man guilty of the shocking crime was found and + delivered up for punishment, the inevitable would happen. + </p> + <p> + “We'll get the right man,” said the voice of universal fury, “if we have + to cut the heart out of every one of Manuel Crust's gang.” + </p> + <p> + The women were the worst. They fought like wildcats to reach the cabins + occupied by the known followers of Manuel Crust. With knives and axes and + burn-ing faggots they tried again and again to force their way through the + stubborn wall of men that had been raised against them. + </p> + <p> + As for Manuel Crust and his little group of radicals, they had vanished. + They had mingled with the mob at the outset. There were many who recalled + seeing this one and that one, remembered speaking to him, remembered + hearing him curse the ravisher. But as their own names began to run from + lip to lip, they silently, swiftly disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Dawn found the camp awake, but grimly silent. No one had gone to bed. With + the first streak of day, the man-hunt began in earnest. All night long the + camp had been patrolled. Every cabin had been searched, even those + occupied solely by women. This search had been conducted in an orderly, + business-like way under the supervision of men chosen by Percival. The + folly of beating the woods during the night was recognized even by the + most impatient; there was time enough for that when the blackness of night + had lifted. + </p> + <p> + Throughout the long night, the restless crowd, with but one thought in + mind, hung about the cabin of Pedro the farmer. The doctors and several of + the nurses were in there. Down at the meeting-house a bonfire had been + started, and here were grouped the men to whom the leaders had intrusted + firearms and other weapons,—men of the gun crew, under officers from + the Doraine, the committee of ten and others. + </p> + <p> + It was accepted as a fact that two men were involved in the heinous deed. + Percival's account of the mysterious runners seemed definitely to + establish this. He called upon Olga Obosky to verify his statement. If she + was surprised by his admission that he was in her company when the men + rushed past them in the darkness, she did not betray the fact. She + indulged in a derisive smile when he went on to explain that it was so + dark he had failed to recognize her until she spoke to him. She agreed + with him that the two men must have come into the open a very short + distance above them, having sneaked out between the cabins before suddenly + breaking into a run. Avoiding the beaten roadway, they had laid their + course twenty or thirty feet to the right of it, keeping to the soft, + springy turf. + </p> + <p> + Percival had issued orders for the entire camp to congregate on the Green + at the first sign of day. The cold grey light of dawn fell upon vague, + unreal forms moving across the open spaces from all directions. There was + no shouting, no turmoil, scarcely the sound of a voice. The silent, + ghostly figures merged into a compact, motionless mass in front of the + meetinghouse. It was not necessary for Percival to call for order when he + appeared on the steps and began to speak. The only sounds were the + shuffling of feet, the rustling of garments, the deep, restrained + breathing of the mass. + </p> + <p> + He spoke partly in English and partly in Spanish, and he was brief. + </p> + <p> + “You know what we are here for and what is ahead of us. I don't have to + tell you the story of last night. You know it as well as I. You will be + glad to hear the latest word from Dr. Cullen. Philippa is conscious. He + thinks she will recover. She is having the best of care and attention. I + will explain why we are all here now. The first thing for us to do is to + count noses. We will go about it as rapidly as possible. After that, we + will get down to business. Mr. Landover and Mr. Malone will check off the + name of every man, woman and child. As your names are called, come + forward, answer, and then move over beyond the corner of the building. + We've got to find out just who is missing,—if any one is missing at + all.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his voice. “I want you all to keep cool. Don't forget that we + are after the men who committed this crime. We have no right to say that + Manuel Crust or any of his crowd did this thing until we have positive + proof of the fact. It may not have been any of Manuel's gang, don't forget + that, people. We must make no mistakes. I am saying this to you now + because I see Manuel Crust and some of his friends standing over there at + the edge of the clearing. Stop! Don't make a move in their direction. + We've all had time to think,—we've all had time to get ourselves in + hand. There is a right and a wrong way to handle this thing,—and + we've got to be sure we're right. The guilty cannot escape. They haven't a + chance, and you know it. So, let's be sure,—let's be dead sure + before we accuse any man. We have no right to charge Manuel's gang with + this crime. The guilty men may be here among us,—absolutely + unsuspected. Chizler! You and Soapy Shay go over and tell those men that + we are taking a count of all the people in this camp. Tell them to come + and answer to their names. They will be safe.” + </p> + <p> + The count was never completed. Manuel Crust did not wait for his name to + be called. He pushed his way through the crowd, leaving his followers + behind. Advancing to the foot of the steps he cried out hoarsely to + Percival: + </p> + <p> + “If you want your men, I—I, Manuel Crust, will lead you to one of + them. He is up there in the wood. Three men are guarding him. He is Sancho + Mendez, the blacksmith. Listen, I will tell you. It is the God's truth I + tell. There were seven of us hiding out there in the wood. We were scared. + We heard our names called out. We had heard the threats to burn us alive. + We ran away. We were not cowards,—but still we ran away. We would + wait till the crowd cooled off. That was my advice. Then we would return,—then + we would help to find the men who did it,—and we would help to burn + them alive. An hour ago Sancho Mendez crawled out of the brush up there + above the landing and begged us to protect him. His leg was broken. He had + fallen over a log. You all know Sancho Mendez. He was a good boy. He was + the friend of Boss Percival. He was no friend to me. But he swears he will + be my slave for ever if I will save him. Then he tells us everything. When + I ask him why the hell he run away, he says he lose his mind or something. + He just go crazy, he says. He say everybody was chasing him,—he + could hear them in the bushes, he could hear that girl screaming out his + name,—and all that. He was going to jump in the water and drown, + because he say people tell him always it is the easy way to die. But he + falls down and breaks his leg,—here below the knee. He cannot run no + more. It is all up. He is afraid to breathe. People are all around him + with knives and axes and clubs. He can hear them in the brush. Then the + daylight comes, and he sees us down below in the wood, and he says he + thanks God. I will be his friend,—I will save him because I am an + angel from heaven! Bah! I spit in his face. We tie him to a tree with our + belts, and then I come down to tell Boss Percival we have his man,—his + good and loyal friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” yelled Percival, as the crowd began to show symptoms of breaking + away. “Listen to me! I give you fair warning. I don't want to do it, but, + by God, I'll order these men to shoot the first who tries to start + anything. We're going to have law and order here. This man Sancho is going + to have a fair trial. What's more, he had a companion. What does he say of + the other man, Manuel Crust?” + </p> + <p> + “Sancho Mendez says he was alone. There was no other man.” + </p> + <p> + Percival looked hard into Manuel Crust's bloodshot eyes. An appalling + thought had suddenly flashed into his mind. Many seconds passed before he + dared to open his lips. As if by divine revelation the situation lay bare + before him,—the whole Machiavelian scheme as conceived by Manuel. + Sancho Mendez was to be sacrificed! + </p> + <p> + Even as he stood there speechless, the plan began to work toward its + well-calculated end. Manuel's friends started to harangue the crowd. They + were growling hoarse invectives, shaking their fists in the direction of + the wood, fanning the pent-up fury of the mob into a whirlwind that would + sweep everything before it. Once the tide turned there would be no + stopping it until Sancho Mendez was torn to pieces. He would shriek his + innocence into deaf ears. And that was Manuel's game. + </p> + <p> + Percival's heart leaped with joy as he saw the armed force under + Lieutenant Platt move swiftly into a position barring the way to the + woods. He thrilled with a mighty pride in the shrewd intelligence and + resourcefulness of this trained fighting-man from the far-off homeland. + </p> + <p> + Manuel Crust was turning away to mingle with the crowd. Quick as a flash, + Percival was down from the steps and at the “Portugee's” side. He grasped + the man's arm. + </p> + <p> + “I've got a gun against your back,” he cried in fierce suppressed tones. + “Stand still and keep your mouth shut, or I'll drill a hole through you. + You're safe if you do as I tell you, Crust. I'm onto your little game. I'm + not saying you are the guilty man, but you know who he is,—and it + won't work.” + </p> + <p> + Manuel Crust was as rigid as a block of stone. He did not even turn his + head to look into the face of the man who held him. + </p> + <p> + Michael Malone and Landover were at Percival's side in an instant. From + their position on the steps they could see what was not visible to the + crowd beyond,—the revolver that was pressed against the small of + Crust's back. + </p> + <p> + “Cover this man,” whispered Percival to Malone. “Shoot if he opens his + mouth.” + </p> + <p> + Malone's revolver was jammed against the “Portugee's” back, and Percival + sprang back up the steps. + </p> + <p> + Manuel Crust shot a look of surprise at Abel Landover. + </p> + <p> + “What the hell—” he began, but choked off the words at a command + from Malone. While Percival was rapidly calling out orders from above, he + broke out recklessly again, addressing the stern-faced banker. + </p> + <p> + “Are you my friend or not?” he snarled. “What kind of a man are you? Speak + up! Tell them I'm all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep quiet,” warned Malone. + </p> + <p> + Landover's eyes met the searching, questioning gaze of the Portuguese. + Manuel Crust apparently was satisfied with what he read in them, for a + quick gleam of confidence leaped into his own. His chest swelled with a + tremendous intake of breath. + </p> + <p> + The remarkable personality,—or perhaps the magnetism,—of the + “boss,” again asserted itself. He made no allusion to the thing uppermost + in his mind as he spoke hurriedly, emphatically to the tense throng. When + he directed Randolph Fitts to take a few picked men with him up into the + woods to bring down the captive, there were mutterings but no move on the + part of the crowd either to anticipate or to follow the detachment. A few + terse words to Buck Chizler sent that active young man after Fitts, the + bearer of instructions. Sancho Mendez was to be brought in alive. His + guards were not to be given a chance to kill him when they realized that + the scheme had failed and he would be allowed to tell his own story. + </p> + <p> + With the departure of Fitts and his men, Percival ordered the people to + return to their cabins. He promised them that Sancho Mendez should have + his just deserts. Slowly, reluctantly the crowd broke up and shuffled away + in small groups across the dewy Green. Manuel Crust was free to go. The + few words that passed between Landover and Percival, although unheard by + the man, sufficed to put courage back into his heart. He had come to look + upon the banker as his “pal”! And his “pal” had not failed him! + </p> + <p> + This is what Landover said to Percival: + </p> + <p> + “Whatever may be in your mind, Percival, I want to say this to you. I was + in Manuel Crust's cabin when the thing happened. There were eight of us + there. I can point out to you the other six. I must beg you to overlook + the fact that we are not friends, and believe what I am saying. It is the + absolute truth.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take your word for it, Mr. Landover,” said Percival, after a + moment. “I am aware of your dealings with Crust and his crowd. I don't + know what the game is, but I do know that you have been fostering + discontent,—it may even amount to revolt,—among; these men. If + you say you were with Crust and that he was not out of your sight all + evening, I will believe you. You may be a misguided, domineering fool, Mr. + Landover, but you are honest. You have failed to appreciate what you were + stirring up,—what you were letting yourself and all the rest of us + in for, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Landover flushed. He compressed his lips for a second or two before + speaking. + </p> + <p> + “My opposition to you as a dictator, Percival, hardly warrants the + implication that I am in a sense responsible for the devilish thing that + happened last night.” + </p> + <p> + “I grant you that,” said Percival. “Nevertheless, it is your purpose to + down me, no matter what it costs,—isn't that true?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not true. There is an honest, sincere belief on the part of + some of us that you are not the man to rule this camp. You may call it + politics, if you like,—or revolt, if you prefer.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll call it politics, Mr. Landover. It was not politics that made me + the superintendent of construction here, however. I've looked after the + job to the best of my ability. I am ready to retire whenever the people + decide they've found a better man. You may be right in supposing that + Manuel Crust is the right man for the job,—but I don't agree with + you.” + </p> + <p> + Landover started. “Nothing is farther from my thoughts than to turn the + affairs of this camp over to Crust,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Once more I agree with you. But that is what you will be doing, just the + same. If you think that Manuel Crust is going to play second fiddle to + you, Mr. Landover, you'll suddenly wake up to find yourself mistaken. You + know what Crust is advocating, don't you? Well, I guess there's nothing + more to be said on the subject.” + </p> + <p> + “We will drop it, then,” said Landover curtly. “I merely want you to + understand that Crust had no hand in last night's affair. I can vouch for + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you vouch for each and every member of his gang?” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about his gang, as you call it. If I am not mistaken, this + fellow Mendez is one of your pet supporters. He may be double-crossing + you.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll see. For the present, your friend Crust is safe. As long as he + lives within the law, he is all right. We're going to have law and order + here, Mr. Landover. I want you to understand that. The best evidence that + most of us want law and order is the incredible manner in which these + people have curbed their natural instincts.” + </p> + <p> + “No one wants law and order more than I,” said Landover. + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose Manuel Crust is of the same mind, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “So far as I know, he is,” replied the other firmly. + </p> + <p> + Percival looked at him in blank astonishment. “Well, I'm damned!” he said, + after a moment. “Do you really believe that?” + </p> + <p> + “It does not follow that he is an advocate of lawlessness and disorder + because he happens to be opposed to some of your pet schemes, does it, Mr. + Percival?” inquired Landover ironically. + </p> + <p> + “One of my pet schemes happens to conflict seriously with Manuel's pet + scheme, if that will strengthen your argument any, Mr. Landover.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe Crust ever had any such thought,” said the other flatly. + </p> + <p> + “We're not getting anywhere by arguing the point,” said Percival. He + turned to walk away. + </p> + <p> + “Just a moment,” called out Landover, after the younger man had taken a + few steps. “See here, Percival, I don't want you to misunderstand me. If + there is anything in this talk about Crust,—you know what I mean,—and + if it should come to the point where stern measures are required, I will + be with you, heart and soul. You know that, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + Percival studied the banker's face for a moment. “I've never doubted it + for an instant, Landover. We may yet shake hands and be friends in spite + of ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Landover turned on his heel and walked away, and Percival, with a shrug of + his shoulders, set about making preparations to safe-guard Sancho Mendez + when he was brought in from the wood. He posted a number of reliable, + cool-headed men around the “meetinghouse,” many of them being armed. + Arrangements were made for barricading the door and the few windows. The + prisoner was to be confined in the building, a long, low structure, and + there he was to tell his story and stand trial. There was to be no delay + in the matter of a trial. + </p> + <p> + “You will sit as judge, Mike,” said the “boss,” addressing Malone. “There + will not be any legal technicalities, old man, and there won't be any + appeal,—so all you've got to do is to act like a judge and not like + a lawyer. We've got to do this thing in the regular way. Try to forget + that you have practiced in the New York City courts. Remember that there + is such a thing as justice and pay absolutely no attention to what you are + in the habit of calling the law. The law is a beautiful thing if you don't + take it too seriously. Ninety-nine out of every hundred judges in the + courts of the U. S. A. sit through a trial worrying their heads off trying + to remember the law so that they can keep out of the record things that + might make them look like jackasses when the case is carried up to a + higher court,—and while they are thinking so hard about the law they + forget all about the poor little trifle called justice. I guess you know + that as well as I do, so there's no use talking about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I do,” said Michael Malone. “I live on technicalities when I'm in + New York. If it were not for technicalities, I'd starve to death. And, my + God, man, if we had to stop and think about justice every time we go into + court, we'd be a disgrace to the profession.” + </p> + <p> + Percival, Peter Snipe, Flattner and several others strode out from the + meeting-house and swept the long line of huts with serious, apprehensive + eyes. They had expected to find the people congregated at some nearby + point, ready to swoop down upon the prisoner the instant he appeared with + his captors at the edge of the wood. To their amazement and relief, the + people had taken Percival's command literally. They had retired to their + huts, and but few of them were to be seen, even on their doorsteps. + </p> + <p> + “Can you beat it?” cried Snipe. “By golly, boys, they've put it squarely + up to us. It's the greatest exhibition of restraint and confidence I've + ever known. This couldn't have happened at home. Hello!” + </p> + <p> + The gaze of all was centred upon two persons who walked rapidly in the + direction taken by Fitts and his party. No one spoke for a few seconds. + Flattner, after a quick look at Percival's set, scowling face, was the + first to speak. To a certain degree, he understood the situation. It was + out of pure consideration for his friend's feelings that he said: + </p> + <p> + “I'll go and head 'em off, A. A.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, old chap,—but there's no sense in getting yourself + disliked. I'll do it. I'm in bad already,—and besides I'm the one + who gave the order.” + </p> + <p> + Near the end of the row of huts, he drew alongside of Ruth Clinton and + Landover. + </p> + <p> + “The order was meant for every one, Miss Clinton,” he said levelly. “Am I + to understand that you have decided to ignore it?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short and drew herself up haughtily. Their eyes met. There was + defiance in hers. She did not speak. Landover confronted Percival, white + with fury. + </p> + <p> + “I am capable of looking after Miss Clinton,” he exclaimed. “Your beastly + officiousness—” + </p> + <p> + “You will go back to your cabin at once, Miss Clinton,” said Percival, + ignoring Landover. + </p> + <p> + She did not move. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Clinton came out here at my suggestion,” said Landover. “If you have + any more bullying to do, confine yourself to me, Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not doing this because I enjoy it, Miss Clinton,” went on the young + man, still looking into her unwavering eyes. “I am sorry it is necessary + to remind you that there are no privileged classes here. You will have to + obey orders the same as every one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said, suddenly lowering her eyes. “Take me back to the + cabin, Mr. Landover. There is nothing more to say.” + </p> + <p> + Percival stood aside. They walked past him without so much as a glance at + his set, unsmiling face. Landover slipped an arm through hers. She did not + resist when he drew her up close to his side. Percival saw him lean over + and speak to her after they had gone a few paces. His lips were close to + her ear, but though his voice was low and repressed, the words were + distinctly audible to the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth darling, I am sorry,—I can't tell you how sorry I am for + having subjected you to this insult. God, if I could only help matters by + resenting it, I—” + </p> + <p> + She broke in, her voice as clear as a bell. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if I were only a man,—if I were only a man!” + </p> + <p> + They were well out of hearing before Percival looked despairingly up at + the pink and grey sky and muttered with heartfelt earnestness: + </p> + <p> + “I wish to God you were. I'd like nothing better than to be soundly + threshed by you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + Just before sunset that evening, Sancho Mendez was publicly hanged. + Confessing the crime, he was carried to the rude gibbet at the far edge of + the wheat field and paid the price in full. He had been tried by a jury of + twelve; and there was absolutely no question as to his guilt. His + companion, a lad named Dominic, callously betrayed by the older man, fled + to the forest and it was not until the second day after the hanging that + he was found by a party of man-hunters, half-starved and half-demented. He + was hanged at sunrise on the following day. + </p> + <p> + Manuel Crust considered himself glorified. After a fashion, he posed as a + martyr. Some sort of cunning, as insidious as it was unexpected, caused + him to assume an air of humility. He went about shaking his head + sorrowfully, as if cut to the quick by the unjust suspicions that had been + heaped upon him by the ignorant, easily-persuaded populace. + </p> + <p> + Sentiment began to swing toward him. He and his so-called followers were + vindicated. It was his gloomy, dejected contention that if Providence had + not intervened he and his honest fellows undoubtedly would have been + placed in the most direful position, so strong and so bitter was the + prejudice that conspired against him. He was constantly thanking + Providence. And presently other people undertook to thank Providence too. + They began to regard Manuel as a much-abused man. + </p> + <p> + The burly “Portugee” haunted the cabin of Pedro the farmer. He was the + most solicitous and the most active of all who strove to befriend and + encourage the unhappy father, and no one was more devoted than he to the + slowly-recovering girl. He carried flowers to Pedro's hut; he did many + chores for Pedro's wife; he went out into the woods and killed the + plumpest birds he could find and cooked them himself for Pedro's daughter. + </p> + <p> + Presently he began to assert a more or less proprietary interest in the + family. It was no uncommon thing for him to issue orders to the nurses; he + hectored the Doctor; and on several occasions he went so far as to offend + such well-meaning ladies as Mrs. Spofford, Madame Careni-Amori, Mrs. Block + and others when they appeared at Pedro's cabin with delicacies for the + girl. And finally the people in that end of the camp began to speak of + Manuel Crust as a good fellow and a gentleman! + </p> + <p> + On Easter Sunday he stood guard over Pedro's cabin while that worthy and + his family went to the “Tabernacle” to attend the special services. Two of + the nurses were inside with the girl, but outside sat Manuel, a grim + watch-dog that growled when any one approached. + </p> + <p> + The horror of that black night and the days that witnessed the wiping out + of Sancho Mendez and Dominic hung like a pall over the camp. Both + executions had been witnessed by practically all of the inhabitants. + Captain Trigger came ashore. + </p> + <p> + With set, relentless faces the people watched two men go to their doom. + The women were as stony-faced, as repressed, as the men. Save for the + involuntary groans, and the queer hissing sound of long-pent breath as the + black-capped figures swung off into space, the tremulous hush of intense + restraint rested upon the staring crowd. + </p> + <p> + Twice they came out to see men they had known and respected “hanged by the + neck until dead,” and on neither occasion was there the slightest + manifestation of pity, nor was there a single word of gloating. They + watched and then they went away, leaving the victims to be disposed of by + the men selected for the purpose. No shouts, no execrations, no hysterical + cries or sobs,—nothing save the grim silence of awe. For these + people, even to the tiniest child, had ceased to live in the light of + other days. + </p> + <p> + Peter Snipe, in his journal, wrote of that silent, subdued throng as other + historians have written of the rock-hearted people of Salem, and of the + soulful Puritans who grew heartless in the service of the Lord. + </p> + <p> + They stood afar-off and watched the small detachment of sailors carry the + bodies down to the basin, and every one knew that Sancho Mendez and + Dominic, heavily weighted, were rowed out to the middle and dumped into a + bottomless grave. Some there were who declared that their bodies would + sink for ages before reaching the bottom,—and no one thought of + Sancho Mendez and Dominic without picturing them as gliding deeper and + deeper into the endless abyss of water. + </p> + <p> + Michael Malone's speech to the multitude on the shorn edge of the wheat + field was brief. He spoke from the scaffold on which Sancho Mendez, the + blacksmith, sat with a noose around his neck. + </p> + <p> + “This man has been fairly tried and he is being fairly punished. There is + no way to circumvent the laws of God or the laws of man on this island, my + friends. The guilty cannot escape. If we transgress the law, we must pay + in proportion to our transgression. This man is to die. The laws of our + homeland would not have demanded the life of such as he,—but they + should, my friends, they should. This island is small. It will be easy for + us to keep it clean,—and we must keep it clean. We must not live in + fear of each other. The lion and the lamb lie down together here; the + thief and the honest man walk hand in hand. Our sins will find us out. We + cannot hide them. Remember that. In this little land of ours there is + nothing to stand in the way of the soundest principle ever laid down for + man. 'Do unto others as ye would have others do unto you.' That is the + Golden Rule. All we have to do is to observe that rule and there will be + no use for the Ten Commandments, nor the laws of Moses, nor all the laws + that man has made. We don't even have to be Christians. 'Do unto others as + ye would have others do unto you.' That, my friends, is the law of laws. + It is the religion of religions.” + </p> + <p> + “Soapy” Shay, sitting before the fire in his cabin a few nights after the + executions, held forth at some length and with peculiar emphasis on what + he called an exploded theory. + </p> + <p> + “As I said before, and as I've always said,—not being a drinking man + myself,—it's all bunk about booze being responsible for all the + crimes that are committed. Now here were these two guys, Sancho and + Dominic. Look at what they did,—and they hadn't touched a drop for + months. I'm not saying that licker is a soothin' syrup for a man's morals, + but what I am saying is that if a feller has got it in him to be ornery, + he'll be ornery, drunk or sober. I was tellin' Parson Mackenzie only this + morning that him and me both have good reason for not touchin' the stuff,—for + different reasons, of course,—but I didn't see why other people + oughtn't to have it if they want it. + </p> + <p> + “With me, in my former profession, it would have been criminal to touch + the stuff. The worst crime a burglar can commit is to get drunk. No + decent, bang-up burglar ever does it. I don't suppose there is a more + self-respectin' sort of man in the world than a high-grade burglar. And + it's the same with a preacher. He can't any more preach a good sermon when + he is lit up than a burglar can crack a safe or jimmy a window if he tanks + up beforehand. The parson seemed surprised when I put it right up to him + like that. He said he'd never thought of it in that light before. Of + course, says he, a minister of the gospel ain't even supposed to know what + licker tastes like, and I says to him that's where we have the advantage + of him. We know what it tastes like, and we like it, and we leave it alone + because it cramps our style. He leaves it alone because it's the style for + preachers to leave it alone, and because they'd go to hell if they drank + like ordinary men. The only place a burglar goes to if he boozes is jail. + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I was sayin', this here Sancho wasn't soused when he committed + that crime, and it all goes to prove that these temperance cranks are off + their base. Most of the crime that's committed in this world is committed + because the feller wants to commit it. When I was up in Sing Sing once,—sort + of by accident, you might say,—there was a lot of talk about prison + reform, and pattin' the crooks on the back, and tellin' them they could be + just as good as anybody else if they had a chance. The only chance them + guys want, and keep lookin' for night and day, is a chance to lift + something when nobody's lookin'. That's all they're thinkin' about while + they're in the pen, and God knows they're as sober as judges all the time + they're there. Crime is crime and you can't always lay it to booze. It's + human nature with some people. I'm not sayin' the world wouldn't be better + off if there wasn't any licker to drink. It stands to reason that there + wouldn't be half so much bunglin' if people kept sober, 'specially when it + comes to crime. Now, if this guy Sancho had had a couple of pints in him, + everybody would be going around preachin' about the horrible effects of + booze, and—What say?” + </p> + <p> + “I said you make me tired,” said Buck Chizler, repeating his remark. “I + never did anything wrong in my life except when I was half-soused.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” agreed Soapy. “But you'd have done it right if you'd been sober, + my boy. That's the principal trouble with booze. It never gives a feeler a + chance to do anything right.” Whereupon, with a slow wink for the other + members of the group, he arose and passed out into the night. + </p> + <p> + “I can't make that feller out,” grumbled Buck, uncomfortably. + </p> + <p> + Easter Sunday was bright and clear, following a fortnight of cold, + penetrating winds and rain. The sun smiled, but it was a cold smile that + mocked rather than cheered. The sky was the colour of thin, transparent + ice; the vast white dome was unspotted by a single cloud; the rose tints + of early morn, frightened away at birth by the chill, unfeeling glare, + took with them every promise of tenderness that dawned with the new day. + But, though the sky was hard, the air was soft; the tang of the salt-sea + spice lay over everything. + </p> + <p> + Percival had no active part in the exercises arranged by Ruth. The song + service was held in the open. A platform had been erected in front of the + “tabernacle” (the meeting-house on occasion) for the choir and musicians. + There were no seats for the congregation. Every one stood, bareheaded, in + a wide semi-circle facing the platform. The “boss” took his place + inconspicuously among those who formed the outer fringe of the assemblage. + His gaze seldom left the face of the girl he loved. Once her eyes met his. + She was on the platform discussing arrangements with the two clergymen + when her roving, unsettled gaze chanced to fall upon him. For many seconds + she stared at him fixedly,—so fixedly, in fact, that Father + Francisco, after a moment, shot a look in the same direction. Even from + his far-off post, Percival saw the colour mount to her cheeks as she + hastily turned away to resume the conversation that had been so + incontinently broken off. She was bare-headed. He had been watching the + sun at play among the coils of her soft, dark hair,—a glint here as + of bronze, a gleam there as of gold, ever changing under the caresses of + that flaming lover a hundred million miles away. + </p> + <p> + The affable Mr. Nicklestick was standing beside Percival, carrying on a + more or less one-sided conversation. + </p> + <p> + “You see, it's this way,” he was saying, contriving to reduce his + far-reaching voice to a moderate undertone; “I'm not in the habit of + attending Easter services. I'm not opposed to them, believe me, A. A.,—not + in the slightest. Now at home in New York, I make it a habit to walk from + the Metropolitan Museum down to the Waldorf-Astoria regularly every + Easter. Between eleven and twelve-thirty. You get them going into certain + churches and you get them coming out of others, don't you see? Oh, vat + would I give to be on Fif' Avenue at this minute, A. A.! A hundred + thousand dollars,—gladly, villingly,—yes, two hundred + thousand! I vonder vat things are like on Fif Avenue now,—at this + minute, I mean. I vonder what the vimmin are wearing this season. My God, + don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue, A. A.?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I say don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue now?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't,” gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “You—you don't?” gasped Nicklestick. “My God, where do you wish you + were?” + </p> + <p> + “Over in France,—or better still, in Germany,—that's where I'd + like to be. Keep still! Can't you see Careni-Amori is singing?” + </p> + <p> + Nicklestick was silent for two minutes. Then he volunteered: “Do you know + what that song vould cost if she vas to give it in the Metropolitan Opera + House, A. A.? A thousand dollars, von thousand simoleons. And we get it + for nothing. It ain't possible to realize that you can get something for + nothing in these days, is it? I vas saying to Morrie Shine only this + morning that—” + </p> + <p> + “Sh!” hissed an exasperated Brazilian in front of them. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we better not talk any more, A. A.,” said Nicklestick, + deprecatingly. Presently he leaned close to Percival's ear and whispered: + “Miss Clinton is looking very fine today, isn't she?” Receiving no reply, + he waited a moment and then went on: “Landover is a very lucky dog, eh?” + Failing again, he was silent for some time. His next effort was along a + totally different line. “I've been feeling some of the people out in + regard to the election next week. I think it's a great idea. You got a + cinch, A. A. Nobody vants anybody but you for governor. What seems to be—” + </p> + <p> + “Sh!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you go to the devil!” addressed the exasperated Mr. Nicklestick to + the Brazilian. “Ain't we got freedom of speech here on this island? Veil, + then! What seems to be troubling most every one, A. A., is who is the best + man for clerk. Nobody vants to be treasurer, for why? Because there ain't + anything to be treasurer about. Say, where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere,” replied Percival, as he strode away. + </p> + <p> + Over against the line of trees on the opposite side of the wheat field + still loomed the gibbet from which Sancho Mendez and Dominic had stepped + blindfolded into another and darker world. While Pastor Mackenzie, leading + up to the glorious resurrection, was repeating the story of the + Crucifixion, Ruth Clinton, sitting behind him on the platform, stared + wide-eyed at this gaunt object, and she saw not Christ on the Cross but + the spectre of Sancho Mendez falling off into darkness. Percival's gaze + followed hers, and his heart smote him,—for it was he who had + demanded that the gruesome reminder be left standing as a warning to + carrion. And he had laughed when Peter Snipe christened it “the + scarecrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Leave it standing, A. A.,” Peter had said, “and you can bet your boots no + jailbird will ever roost on it if he thinks twice. And it's just that sort + of thing that makes a man think twice.” + </p> + <p> + But the look of dread in the eyes of this girl who could do no wrong, and + yet was to be everlastingly tortured by the sight of the thing that stood + as a silent accuser of all who looked, was more than Percival could stand. + Easter Sunday,—and that gibbet pointing its long arm toward the + little flock in the shadow of sanctuary,—mocking the good as it + beckoned to the bad,—Easter Sunday and that! + </p> + <p> + He stole quietly away, circling the edge of the crowd, his head bent, his + teeth set. Just as he was about to pass from view around the corner of the + “tabernacle,” he cast a quick glance at the girl on the platform. Their + eyes met again. She turned her head quickly, but he was certain that she + had followed his movements from the beginning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + Toward the close of the exercises, the congregation was startled by the + sound of an ax smiting wood. The blows were rapid and vigorous. The + surprised people looked at each other first in wonder and then in + consternation. Who was guilty of this unseemly sacrilege? + </p> + <p> + Finally those on the edge of the multitude discovered the wielder of the + ax. Some one, not easily recognizable, was chopping away the supports of + the scaffold. The crowd grew restless; angry mutterings were to be heard + on all sides. Every eye was turned from the platform to glare at the lone + chopper across the fallow field. + </p> + <p> + Madame Careni-Amori, who was about to begin her second song, looked + helplessly at Ruth Clinton. + </p> + <p> + Ruth had recognized the man at once. At first she was annoyed, then there + surged over her a great, uplifting thrill of exaltation. She stepped + quickly to the front and, raising her clear young voice, reclaimed the + wandering attention of the throng. + </p> + <p> + “Please be quiet. Madame Careni-Amori is to sing for us once more. Mr. + Percival is knocking down that horrible thing over there. It is right that + he should. We do not need it there as a warning. Mr. Percival has had a + change of heart. He has been moved,—tremendously moved,—by + what he has seen in your faces today. That is why he is over there now + hacking down that dreadful thing. It is the skeleton at our feast. We were + conscious of its presence all the time. He is over there all by himself + cutting it down so that our hearts may be lighter, so that this glad hour + may end without its curse. Please remain where you are. He requires no + assistance. He prefers to do it all alone. And now, if you will all give + attention, Madame Careni-Amori will sing for us.” + </p> + <p> + Careni-Amori lifted up her glorious voice in song. The rhythmic beat of + the ax went on unceasingly; the powerful arms and shoulders of the + destroyer were behind every frenzied blow. As the last notes of the song + died away, there came the sound of splintering wood, then a dull crash, + and the gibbet lay flat upon the ground. Some one uttered an involuntary + shout. As Percival turned from his completed work and wiped the sweat from + his brow with his bare forearm, he found the gaze of the entire company + fastened upon him. Then there came to his ears the clapping of hands, then + the shrill clamour of voices raised in approbation. Swinging the ax on + high, he buried its blade deep in the fallen timber and left it imbedded + there. Snatching up his coat from a nearby stump, he waved his hand to the + crowd and then, whirling, was quickly lost among the trees that lined the + shore. + </p> + <p> + Landover walked beside the thoughtful Ruth as she crossed the Green on her + way home. He studied her lovely profile out of the corner of his eye. As + they drew away from the dispersing throng, he spoke to her. + </p> + <p> + “If money were of any value here in this Godforsaken spot, I would offer + considerably more than a penny for your thoughts, Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + She started slightly. “You couldn't buy them, Mr. Landover. They are not + for sale at any price.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose there is no harm in venturing a guess, however. You will give + me one guess, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “All the guesses you like,—free of charge,” she rejoined airily. + </p> + <p> + “You are trying to decide whether or not it was all done for effect.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled mysteriously, looking straight ahead. Her eyes were very + bright. + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong. I was thinking about hats, Mr. Landover. Don't you know + that every woman's thoughts run to hats on Easter?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess I had a better opinion of him,” he said, disregarding her + flippancy. “I don't like him, but I've never suspected him of being a + stupid ass before.” + </p> + <p> + “Of whom are you speaking?” she inquired, suddenly looking him full in the + eye. + </p> + <p> + “Our mutual friend, the enemy,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought he was beneath our notice.” + </p> + <p> + “We can't very well help noticing him when he goes to such extreme lengths + to attract attention.” + </p> + <p> + “You think he did it to attract attention?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so much that, perhaps, as to get back into the lime-light. You see, + he was rather out of it for as much as half an hour, and he simply + couldn't stand it. So he went off and staged a little sideshow of his + own.” + </p> + <p> + She walked on in silence for a few moments, torn by doubts and misgivings. + Landover's sarcastic analysis was like a douche of cold water. Perhaps he + was right. It had been a spectacular, not to say diverting, exhibition. + Her eyes darkened. An expression of pain lurked in them. + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe it of him, Mr. Landover,” she said at last, in a slightly + muffled voice. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was understood you were to call me Abel, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “If he did it deliberately,—and with that motive,—it was + unspeakable,” she went on, a faint furrow appearing between her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I may be wrong,” said he magnanimously. “It may have been the + result of an honest, uncontrollable impulse. But I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Men do queer, strange things when under the influence of a strong + emotion,” she said, a hopeful note in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “True. They are also capable of doing very base things. You don't for an + instant suspect Percival of being a religious fanatic, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't sneer. And what, pray, has religion to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say Morris Shine is again lamenting the absence of a motion + picture camera. He is always complaining about the chances he has missed + to—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ruth dear, I—” + </p> + <p> + “We have no right to judge him, Mr. Landover.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you defending him?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe he had the faintest notion that he was being—theatrical, + as you call it. I am sure he did it because he was moved by an + overpowering desire to make all of us happy. He couldn't bear the thought + of that evil thing out there, pointing at us while we worshipped and tried + to sing with gladness in our hearts. No! He did it for you, and for me, + and for all the rest of us,—and he made every heart lighter when + that thing toppled over and fell. Did you not see the change that came + over every one when they realized that it was destroyed? There were smiles + on every face, and every voice was cheerful. The look of uneasy dread was + gone—Oh, you must have seen.” + </p> + <p> + “I can only say that it ought to have been done before, Ruth,—not + during the exercises.” + </p> + <p> + “It was his way of publicly admitting he was wrong in insisting that it + should remain.” + </p> + <p> + “He had his way with that weak-kneed committee, as usual. The tactics of + that Copperhead Camp he talks so much about are hardly applicable to + conditions here. We are not law-defying ruffians, you know,—and + these are women of quite another order.” + </p> + <p> + “No one,—not even you, Mr. Landover,—can say that he has been + anything but kind and considerate and sympathetic,” she flashed. “He is + firm,—but isn't that what we want? And the people worship him,—they + will do anything for him. Even Manuel Crust respects him,—and obeys + him. And you, down in your heart, respect him. He is your kind of a man, + Mr. Landover. He does things. He is like Theodore Roosevelt. He does + things.” + </p> + <p> + Landover smiled grimly. “Perhaps that is why I dislike him.” + </p> + <p> + “Because he is like Roosevelt?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, let's not start an argument about Roosevelt.” + </p> + <p> + “Just the same, I've heard you say over and over again that you wish + Roosevelt were President now,” she persisted. “Why do you say that if you + are so down on him?” + </p> + <p> + Landover shrugged his shoulders expressively. + </p> + <p> + “I can wish that, my dear, and still not be an admirer of Mr. Roosevelt,” + he replied. “But to return to Percival, isn't it quite plain to you that + he was pouting like a school-boy because he had not been asked to take + part in today's exercises?” + </p> + <p> + “He was asked to take part in them. I asked him myself.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at her sharply. “You never told me you had asked him, Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + “The night the crime was committed,” she said briefly. “He was very nice + about it. He promised to sing in the choir and—and to help me with + the decorations. After our unpleasant experience the next day, he had the—shall + we say tact or kindness?—to reconsider his promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Openly advertising the fact that he preferred to have no part in any + entertainment you were arranging,” was Landover's comment. “I don't + believe it was because of any particular delicacy of feeling on his part, + my dear. In any case, the fact remains that he let you go ahead with the + affair, and then, bang! right in the middle of it he stages his cheap, + melodramatic, moving-picture act. Bosh!” + </p> + <p> + She turned on him with blazing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You will not see anything good in him, will you? You can't be fair, can + you? Well, I can be,—and I am. He has been fair with both of us,—and + I am ashamed of the way I have treated him. We deserved his rebuke that + morning, and he did not hesitate to turn us back,—although he + realized what it would mean. He loves me, Abel Landover,—he loves me + a thousand times more than you do, in spite of all your protestations. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ruth,—I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—I know,—I know you are shocked. And I don't care,—do + you understand? I don't care that! You want your answer, Mr. Landover. + Well, you shall have it now. I cannot marry you. This is final.” + </p> + <p> + The blood left his face. “You don't know what you are saying, Ruth,” he + exclaimed. “You are angry. When you have had time to—” + </p> + <p> + “I've had all the time I need,” she interrupted shortly. “I don't want to + be disagreeable,—but it's no use, Mr. Landover. I do not love you. I + am sorry if I have misled you into hoping. There is nothing more to be + said.” + </p> + <p> + “You have misled me,” he cried out bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “I am to blame, I suppose, for not giving you your answer before this. I + have temporized. It is a woman's trick,—and a horrid one, I'll + admit. I have never even thought of marrying you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you in love with Percival?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—I think I am,” she replied, looking him straight in the eye. + She spoke with a sort of gasp, as if releasing a confession that surprised + even herself. + </p> + <p> + “My God, Ruth,—I can't believe it,” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “I have denied it to myself—oh, a thousand times,—I've fought + against it. I've tried to hate him. I've done everything in my power to + make him believe that I despise him. But it's no use,—it's no use. I—I + can't think of anything else. I can't think of any one else. Oh, I know I + am quite mad to say this, but I sometimes find myself praying that we may + never be rescued. It might mean—well, you can see what it might + mean. Thank God, you have driven me to this confession. It is the first + time I have been really honest with myself. I have lied to myself over and + over again about my feeling toward him. I have lain awake for hours at + night lying to myself—telling myself that I hate him and always will + hate him. Now, it's out,—the truth is out. I have never hated him,—I + have cared for him from the very beginning.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke rapidly, the words rushing forth like a flood suddenly released + after breaking through the dam, sweeping everything before it,—resistless, + devastating, cruelly rapturous. She thought nothing of the hurt she was + inflicting upon the man beside her; he was an atom in the path of the + torrent, a thing that went down and was left behind as the flood swept + over and by him. As suddenly as it began the torrent was checked. A hot + flush seared her neck, her cheeks, her brow. + </p> + <p> + “What a fool you must think me!” she cried in dire chagrin. “What a stupid + fool!” + </p> + <p> + He had not taken his eyes from her transfigured face. He had listened with + his jaw set, his lips tightly pressed, his brow dark with anger. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think that,” he said shortly. “You have merely lost your head, as + any woman might, over a picturesque, good-looking soldier of fortune. + Perhaps I should not be surprised, nor even shocked by what you've just + told me. He is the sort that women do fall in love with,—and I + suppose they are not to be blamed for it. No, I do not think you are a + fool. When one reflects that such experienced heads as those possessed by + the irreproachable Obosky, the immaculate Amori,—to say nothing of + the estimable lady we are pleased to call the 'Empress of Brazil,'—when + such heads as theirs are turned by a man it is high time to admit that he + has something more than personal magnetism. I am wondering how far the + contagion has really spread. There is a difference between contagion and + infection, you know. Infection is the result of personal contact,—contagion + is something in the air. This epidemic of infatuation very plainly is in + two forms. It appears to be both infectious and contagious. I rather fancy + the amiable Obosky has selected the former type of the prevailing malady. + Percivalitis, I believe, is the name it goes by.” + </p> + <p> + There was no mistaking the significance of his words. The implication was + clear, even though veiled in the heaviest sarcasm. He had the satisfaction + of seeing the colour ebb from her cheek. Her face being averted, he missed + the swift flicker of pain that rushed to her eyes and, departing, took + away with it the soft light that had glowed in them the instant before. He + had touched a concealed canker,—the sensitive spot that had been the + real cause of her sleepless, troubled nights,—the thing she had + refused in her pride to accept as the real source of discomfort. + </p> + <p> + Down in her soul lay the poison of jealousy, a cruel and malignant + influence that until now had been subdued by a mind stubbornly unwilling + to recognize its existence. + </p> + <p> + In the eagerness to supply herself with additional reasons for hating + Percival, she had given her imagination a rather free rein in regard to + his relations with Olga Obosky. While she was without actual proof, she + nevertheless tortured herself with suspicions that came almost to the same + thing; in any case, they had the desired effect in that they created a + very positive sense of irritation, and nothing seemed to please her more + in the dead hour of night than the feeling that she had a right to be + disgusted with him. + </p> + <p> + And now, Landover, in his sly arraignment, prodded a very live, raw spot, + and she knew that it was bleak unhappiness and not rancour that had kept + her awake. + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary to beat about the bush, Mr. Land-over? If you have + anything definite to tell me about Mr. Percival and Madame Obosky, I grant + you permission to say all you have to say in the plainest language. Call a + spade a spade. I am quite old enough to hear things called by their right + names.” + </p> + <p> + “Since you have been so quick to get my meaning, I don't consider it + necessary to go into details. I daresay you have ears and eyes of your + own. You can see and hear as well as I,—unless you are resolved to + be both blind and deaf.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not hear me say that I know he loves me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—I heard you quite distinctly.” + </p> + <p> + “As a rule, do men love two women at the same time?” she inquired, + patiently. + </p> + <p> + “I have never said that he loves Obosky. It is barely possible, however, + that he may not choose to resist her,—if that conveys anything to + your intelligence.” + </p> + <p> + “It does and it does not,” she replied steadily. “You see, I believe in + him. I trust him.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you trust Olga Obosky,” he said, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “I understand Olga Obosky far better than you do, Mr. Landover.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it,” said he drily. + </p> + <p> + “She is my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! That measurably simplifies the situation. She will no doubt prove her + friendship by delivering Mr. Percival to you, slightly damaged but + guaranteed to—” + </p> + <p> + “Please be good enough to remember, Mr. Land-over, that you are not + speaking to Manuel Crust,” she exclaimed haughtily, and, with flaming + cheeks, swept past him. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a moment, and then started to follow her. She stopped short + and, facing him, cried out: “Don't follow me! I do not want to hear + another word. Stop! I can see by your eyes that you are ashamed,—you + want to apologize. I do not want to hear it. I am hurt,—terribly + hurt. Nothing you can say will help matters now, Mr. Landover.” + </p> + <p> + “Just a second, Ruth,” he cried, now thoroughly dismayed. “Give me a + chance to explain. It was my mad, unreasoning love that—” + </p> + <p> + But, with an exclamation of sheer disgust, she put her fingers to her ears + and sped rapidly down the walk. He stood still, watching her until she + entered the cabin door and closed it behind her. Then he completed the + broken sentence, but not in the voice of humility nor with the words that + he had intended to utter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + Shay, coming up the walk, distinctly heard what he said. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Bill?” he inquired, pausing. “Did she throw the hooks + into you?” + </p> + <p> + Landover glared at him balefully. “You go to hell, damn you,” he snarled, + and walked away. + </p> + <p> + “Soapy” rubbed his chin dubiously as he watched the retreating figure. + Pursing his thin lips, he turned his attention to an unoffending stump six + or eight feet away and scowled at it vindictively. He was turning + something over in his mind, and he was manifestly in a state of + indecision. Ruminating, he spoke aloud, perhaps for the benefit of a + Portuguese farm-hand who happened to be approaching from the opposite + direction, but who still had some rods to cover before he was within + hearing distance. + </p> + <p> + “Gee, he's getting to be as decent and democratic as any of us. Shows what + association will do for a man. Two months ago he would have been too high + and mighty to tell me to go to hell. If he keeps on at this rate, he'll be + worth payin' attention to in a couple of months more. Won't he, Bill?” + This to the farmhand, who obligingly halted. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Shay made constant and impartial use of the name Bill. Except in a + very few instances, he applied it to all males over the age of two, and he + did it so genially that resentment was rare. Americans, Britons, Irishmen, + Portuguese, Spaniards, Indians, Swedes,—all races, in fact, except + the Hebrew,—came under the sweeping appellation. His Hebrew + acquaintances were addressed by the name of Ike. + </p> + <p> + It so happened that this particular “Bill” was lamentably slow in picking + up the English language. It was even said that he prided himself on being + halfwitted. However, being an exceedingly dull creature, he was quite + naturally a polite one. He was a good listener. You could speak English to + him by the hour and never be annoyed by verbal interruptions. At regular + intervals he would insert a shrug of the shoulders, or nod his head, or + lift an eye-brow, or spread out his hands, or purse his lips,—and he + never smiled unless you did. + </p> + <p> + Perceiving that some sort of an answer was expected, “Bill” wisely + shrugged his shoulders. “Soapy” interpreted the shrug as affirmative,—having + a distinct advantage over “Bill,” who hadn't the faintest idea which it + was,—and proceeded to go a little deeper into the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Now, as I was saying, this Landover guy is up against something, Bill. + She handed him something he didn't like. Right on the nose, too, if I'm + any judge. What do you suppose it was, Bill?” + </p> + <p> + “Bill” nodded his head very earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I think,” said “Soapy,” fixing his hearer with a moody, + speculative frown. “Now, I know something about this Landover guy that she + don't know. I suppose A. A. will give me an awful panning if I up and tell + her what I saw that day. He seems to think it's a secret.” + </p> + <p> + There was a slight pause, suggesting to “Bill” that he ought to frown as + if also in doubt. + </p> + <p> + “At the same time, I think she ought to be told, don't you, Bill?” + </p> + <p> + This called for something definite. So Bill scratched his left ear. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, she's too nice a girl to be hitched up with a + Priscilla like him. Now, I don't know what happened here a couple of + minutes ago, but it looks to me as if she needs a little moral support. It + strikes me that this would be a good time to tell her. What do you think + about it, Bill?” + </p> + <p> + Always on the lookout for rising inflections, “Bill” was ever in a + position to give prompt replies. He could dispose of the most profound + questions almost before they were out of the speaker's mouth. His answer + to “Soapy's” query was a broad grin,—for he had detected a sly + twinkle in the speaker's eye. He also shrugged his shoulders and spread + out his hands,—and, to clinch the matter, he winked. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I don't want to take this important step without being backed-up by + some clever, intelligent feller like you, Bill,” went on “Soapy.” “It's + all for her good,—and A. A.'s, too, although he won't see it in that + light. If you say you think she ought to be told, that's enough for me. If + you say she oughtn't,—why, nothing doing. It's up to you, Bill.” + </p> + <p> + “Bill” was plainly at sea. You can't decide a question that lacks an + interrogation point. So all that “Bill” could do was to stare blankly at + “Soapy” and wait for something tangible to turn up. Mr. Shay suddenly + appreciated the poor fellow's dilemma and supplied the necessary relief. + </p> + <p> + “What say, Bill?” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon “Bill” started to shake his head, but, catching the scowl of + disapproval on “Soapy's” brow, hastily changed his reply to a vigorous + nod. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” exclaimed Mr. Shay. “That completely clears my conscience. So + long, Bill.” + </p> + <p> + And half a minute later he presented himself at Ruth Clinton's cabin. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” exclaimed Mrs. Spofford, as she opened the door. She also + opened her eyes very wide, and sent a startled, apprehensive glance over + her shoulder into the warm, fire-lit interior. “What do you want?” she + demanded querulously of the unexpected visitor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Shay took off his hat. “I'd like a few words with Miss Clinton,” he + said. “I saw her come in, so she's not out. It's important, ma'am. She + will hear something to her advantage, as they say in the personals.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you please return at three o'clock, Mr. Shay? My niece is resting + after the arduous labours of the—” + </p> + <p> + “I dassent wait,” said “Soapy,” with a furtive glance over his shoulder. + “If he sees me, I'll probably have to change my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it, Auntie?” called out a clear voice from within. + </p> + <p> + “'Soapy' Shay,” replied the visitor himself. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Landover will be here presently, Mr. Shay,—” began the obstacle + in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “I guess not,” broke in “Soapy,” forgetting himself so far as to wink. “I + expect you haven't heard the news, ma'am. He's had his nose put out of + joint.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! His nose out of—” + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Soapy,” cried Ruth. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth, my dear,—do you know who—do you know what—” + </p> + <p> + “Sure she knows,” again interrupted “Soapy,” unembarrassed. “I'm not after + anybody's jewels, Mrs. Spofford,—and besides which I am the + principal candidate for Sheriff of this bailiwick. You don't suppose a man + who's running for the office of sheriff on Mr. A. A. Percival's ticket is + going to lift anything before election, do you? Besides which I've made up + my mind to be straight as long as I'm on this island, and if I'm elected,—which + I will be,—I'm going to see that nobody else does anything crooked. + Mr. A.A. Percival is a wise guy,—a mighty wise guy. Says he to me, + 'Soapy, you are one of the most expert—'” + </p> + <p> + “Come inside, Soapy,” called out Ruth. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Shay entered. “You better shut the door, Mrs. Spofford,” he said + coolly. “What I got to say is private. As I was saying, A. A. says to me, + 'Soapy, you are one of the craftiest and slipperiest crooks on this side + of the Atlantic Ocean. What you don't know about crime would fill a book + about as thick as a postage stamp. There's nobody on this island more + fittin' to be an officer of the law. You know everything that an officer + of the law ought to know, and besides which you know everything that a + thief has to know. So you're going to be elected Sheriff of Trigger + Island.' That's what A. A. says to me, and, as usual, he's dead right. + Why, ma'am, there ain't a thief in the universe that can fool me. I don't + have to have any evidence,—not a grain of it. All I got to do is to + just ask 'em why they done it. But what I dropped in to see you about, + Miss Ruth, is—Say, you ain't by any chance expecting A. A. to drop + in, are you? I wouldn't have him ketch me here for—” + </p> + <p> + “I am not expecting Mr. Percival, Soapy,” she said, her gaze fixed + expectantly on the man's face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said he, “I got a little story to tell you. It's the gospel + truth. Just try to forget that I used to be a crook and that in ordinary + times I am one of the most gosh-awful liars on earth. But there's + absolutely no pleasure in lying nowadays, and as for working at my regular + trade, Mrs. Spofford, you needn't be the least bit nervous. It ain't + necessary for you to set on that trunk. Take this chair, please. Now, you + remember some time back that A. A. and your friend Landover had a mix-up + in the last named gentleman's stateroom, and you also must remember that + Mr. Landover told you about it and that Mr. Percival never told you + anything about it. Well, I was a witness to that fracas. I just happened + to be walking along the deck when something caught my eye and I went up + close to see what it was. You'd never guess what it was. After looking at + it very carefully I discovered it was a port-hole.” + </p> + <p> + Forsaking his whimsical manner, he related tersely in as few words as + possible the story of the encounter. + </p> + <p> + “Now, it's my guess that Mr. Abel Landover didn't speak the whole truth + and nothing but the truth when he furnished you with his version of the + affair. Am I right, or am I wrong?” he asked, in conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “I prefer to believe Mr. Landover's story,” said Mrs. Spofford stiffly. + “Will you be good enough to go now, Mr. Shay?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said “Soapy,” rising. “I'm not asking anybody to take my word + against his. I'm just telling you, that's all. Good afternoon, ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not Mr. Percival who fired the shot? You are sure of that, Soapy?” + Ruth was standing now. Her eyes were very dark and tempestuous. + </p> + <p> + “Sure as my right name ain't Soapy Shay,” returned the witness, holding up + his right hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth, it isn't possible that you place any credence in—” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for coming, Soapy,” interrupted Ruth. “It was very good of + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Soapy” lingered at the door, fumbling his dilapidated hat. Mrs. Spofford + was staring speechlessly at her niece. + </p> + <p> + “I'd a little sooner you wouldn't say anything to A. A. about me peaching + on him,” said “Soapy,” somewhat nervously. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not 'peach' on you, Soapy,” said the girl, a joyous smile + suddenly illuminating her face. + </p> + <p> + “Soapy” went out. As he closed the door, he said to himself: “Next time + you tell me to go to hell, Abe Landover, I guess you'd better furnish a + guide that knows the way.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as the door was closed, Mrs. Spofford turned upon her radiant + niece. + </p> + <p> + “You are not such a fool as to believe that rascal's story, Ruth?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe every word of it!” cried the girl. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <p> + Sailors, sniffing the gale that night, shook their heads and said there + was snow on the tail of it. Morning found the ground mottled with splashes + of white and a fine, frost-like sleet blowing fitfully across the plain. + The ridge of trees over against the shore became vague and shapeless + beneath the filmy veil, while the sea out beyond the breakers was clothed + in a grey shroud, bleak and impenetrable. + </p> + <p> + Knapendyke was positive and reassuring in his contention that no great + amount of snow ever fell upon the island. While much of the vegetation was + of a character indigenous to the temperate zone, there was, he pointed + out, another type peculiar to tropical climates,—and although the + latter was of a singularly hardy nature, it was not calculated to survive + the rigours of a harsh, protracted winter. + </p> + <p> + “We'll have spells like this, off and on, just as they occasionally do in + Florida or Southern California, is the way I figure it out,” he said to + the group of uneasy men who contemplated the embryonic blizzard with alarm + and misgiving. “Moreover, I believe the wet, cold season is a short one + here. The birds are content to stick it out. The fact there is no + migration is proof enough for me that the winter is never severe. As the + weather prognosticators say, look out for squalls, unsettled weather, + frost tonight, rising temperature tomorrow, rain the next day, doctors' + bills the end of the month. Avoid crowded street-cars, passenger elevators + and places of amusement. Take plenty of out-door exercise and don't eat + too many strawberries.” + </p> + <p> + Children, on their way to school in the town hall, shouted with glee as + they romped in the snow-laden gale. It had no terrors for them. They were + not concerned with the dour prospect that brought anxiety to the hearts of + their elders. + </p> + <p> + “It's fine to be a kid,” said Percival, watching the antics of a crowd of + boys. “Why do we have to grow up?” + </p> + <p> + “So that we can appreciate what it was to be a kid,” said Randolph Fitts. + </p> + <p> + Ruth Clinton was one of the teachers. There were, all told, about thirty + children in the school, their ages ranging from five to fourteen. Most of + them were youngsters from the steerage, bright-eyed little Latins who had + picked up with lively avidity no small store of English. They were being + taught in English. + </p> + <p> + The council, spurred by the far-seeing Percival, recognized the perils of + a period of inactivity following the harvest and the flailing days. The + majority of the men and women would be comparatively idle. Preparations + for the building of a small ship occupied the time and interest of a few + engineers and ship-carpenters, but as some weeks were bound to pass before + the work could be begun in earnest, an interim of impatience would have to + be bridged. Work, and plenty of it, was the only prescription for despair. + </p> + <p> + Already symptoms of increasing moodiness marked the mien of the less + resourceful among the castaways. While it was not generally known, two men + had attempted suicide, and one of the Brazilian ladies,—a beautiful + young married woman,—was in a pitiful state of collapse. She had a + husband and two small children in Rio Janeiro. The separation was driving + her mad. There were others,—both men and women,—whose minds + were never free from the thought of loved ones far across the waters and + whose hearts ached with a great pain that could not be subdued by + philosophy, but they were strong and they were cheerful. In their souls + burnt an unquenchable fire, the fire of hope; they stirred it night and + day with the song of the unvanquished. + </p> + <p> + Improvements in the hastily constructed cabins provided not only + occupation but interest for the able-bodied men and women. There was no + little rivalry in the matter of interior embellishments; those skilled in + the use of implements took great pride in hewing out and adding more or + less elaborate ornamentation to the facades of their habitations,—such + as casements, door-posts and capitals, awnings, porches, and so forth. A + shell road was in process of construction from one end of the village to + the other, while over in Dismal Forest woodsmen were even now cutting down + the towering Norfolk pines and hewing out the staunch timbers for the ship + that was to sail out one day in quest of the world they had left behind + them. But these enterprises provided work for men only. The women, in the + main, were without occupation. With the approach of winter the men in + active control of the camp's affairs realized that something would have to + be done to relieve the strain,—at least, to lighten it until spring + came to the rescue with toil in the fields and gardens. + </p> + <p> + A system of exchange was being worked out. As has been mentioned before in + this chronicle, the people of the steerage were the plutocrats. Their + hoardings represented real money, the savings of years. When it came to an + actual “show-down,”—to use Percival's expression,—these people + who were poor in the accepted sense, now were rich. They could “buy and + sell” the “plutocrats” of another day and another world. + </p> + <p> + The theory that one good turn deserves another was an insufficient + foundation upon which to construct a substantial system of exchange. It is + all very well to talk about brotherly love, said Percival. The trouble is + that certain brothers are for ever imposing upon other brothers, and the + good turn does not always find its recompense. Socialism, he argued, is a + fine thing until you discover that you are not alone in the world. + Brotherly love began with Cain and Abel, and socialism is best exemplified + by a parlour aquarium. Nothing happens to disturb the serene existence of + the goldfish until somebody forgets to feed them, and then they begin + nibbling at each other. + </p> + <p> + “You mend my fence, I'll mend yours,” is an ideal arrangement until you + find it is “our fence” and doesn't need mending. + </p> + <p> + To Landover, Block and other financial experts was delegated the power and + authority to perfect a fair, impartial monetary system. First of all, they + arbitrarily declared the dollar, the peso and the shilling to be without + value. “Time” script was to be issued by the governing board, and as this + substitute would automatically become useless on the day the castaways, + were discovered and taken off the island, no citizen was to be allowed to + reduce or dissipate his hoard of real money. + </p> + <p> + Landover's proposal that a central depository be established for the + purpose of holding and safe-guarding the possessions of each and every + person was primarily intended to prevent the surreptitious use of real + money. This project met with almost universal opposition. The “rich” + preferred to hang onto their money, thereby running true to form. While + professing the utmost confidence in the present integrity of the banker + and his friends they ingenuously wanted to know what chance they would + have of getting their money back when these masters of finance were ready + to leave the island! So they elected to hide their gold and silver where + it would be safe from unscrupulous financiers! And nothing could shake + them in this resolve. + </p> + <p> + “Time” was the basic principle on which the value of the script was to be + determined, and as “time,” in this instance, meant hours and nothing else, + a citizen's income depended entirely on his readiness to work. Ten hours + represented a full day's work. The hand-press on board the Doraine was + used to print the “hours,” as the little slips made from the stock of menu + card-board were called. They were divided into five denominations, viz.: + One Hour, Three Hours, Five Hours, Seven Hours and Ten Hours. Each of + these checks bore the signature of Abel T. Landover and a seal devised by + Peter Snipe, who besides being an author was something of a draughtsman,—indeed, + his enemies said he was a far better artist than he was an author, which + annoyed him tremendously in view of the fact that he had stopped drawing + when he was fifteen because eminent cartoonists and illustrators had told + him he had no talent at all. The printing and stamping was done on board + the Doraine and the script was shortly to be put into circulation. + Landover was slated to become treasurer of Trigger Island at the general + election. + </p> + <p> + As an illustration, this sort of dialogue was soon to become more or less + common: + </p> + <p> + “What's the price of this hat, Madame Obosky?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-seven hours, Mrs. Block.” + </p> + <p> + Or: + </p> + <p> + “Gimme an hour's worth of 'smoke,' Andy,” meaning, of course, the + substitute for tobacco. + </p> + <p> + Or: + </p> + <p> + “You blamed robber, what do you mean charging six hours for half-soling + them shoes? If you was any good, you could ha' done it in half the time.” + </p> + <p> + Every individual in camp over the age of thirteen was obliged to have an + occupation. To a certain extent, this occupation was selective, but in the + main it was to be determined by a board whose business it was to see that + the man-power was directed to the best advantage for all concerned. A camp + tax was ordered. At the end of the week, every citizen was required to pay + into the common treasury two “hours.” He could not “work out” this tax. It + had to be paid in “cash.” Out of the taxes so received, the school, the + church, the “hospital” and the “government” were to be supported. + </p> + <p> + The “governor” of Trigger Island and the humblest workingman were to + receive exactly the same pay: “hour” for hour. Thirty thousand “hours” + represented the total issue, or, approximately fifty units for each + individual over the age of thirteen. + </p> + <p> + As no man's hours was worth more than another's, and as every transaction + was to be based on time, rather than on money, there was no small + likelihood that any one man or group of men could ever obtain a commanding + grip on the finances of the Island. + </p> + <p> + And so it came to pass that all manner of enterprises sprang into + existence. Competition was not allowed. There could be but one millinery + shop, one dress-making establishment, one shoe and sandal factory, and so + on. Everything was conducted on a strictly cash basis; there were no + “charge accounts.” + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky, as the proprietress of the millinery shop, earned no more + than any one of her half-dozen assistants,—and they were all paid by + the “government.” The same could be said of Madame Careni-Amori, who + conducted a school of music, and the great Joseppi who graciously,—even + gladly,—went into the tailoring business. Andrew Mott, one time + First Officer on the Doraine, opened a “smoke” store and dispensed cured + weed that Flattner authorized him to call “tobacco.” The austere Mrs. + Spofford decided to open a dress-making shop! + </p> + <p> + It was all very simple, this man-to-man system of traffic, but no one took + it lightly or in the spirit of jest. They were serious, they were + sober-minded. Interest, incentive, grim determination centred in the + seemingly childish arrangement. Greed was lacking, for there was no chance + to hoard; confidence was paramount, for there was no chance to lose. + </p> + <p> + The “hours” travelled in a circle, from the “government” to people, from + people to “government”; when all was said and done, it was the product of + soil and sea that formed the backbone of the system. + </p> + <p> + With the adoption of the plan, it was to become a punishable offence,—indeed, + it was to be classified as treason,—for any resident of Trigger + Island to “forage” for necessities. He could do what he pleased in respect + to the non-essentials, but when it came to foodstuffs of any kind or + description, he was guilty of a felony if he failed to turn all that he + produced or secured into the general stores. + </p> + <p> + “Strikes me,” said Randolph Fitts in council meet-ing, “that we are + arriving at the most exquisite state of socialism. This comes pretty close + to being the essence of that historic American dream, 'of the people, by + the people, for the people.' Up to date, that has been the rarest + socialistic doctrine ever promulgated, but we are going it a long sight + better. 'From the people, by the people, to the people.' What do you call + that but socialism?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you speaking to me?” demanded Percival. + </p> + <p> + “In a general way, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's not my idea of socialism. So far as I've been able to + discover, socialism is a game in which you are supposed to take something + out of your pocket and put it into the other fellow's whether he wants it + or not. This scheme of ours is quite another thing. We're not planning to + split even on what we've got in our pockets so much as we're planning to + divide what we've got in our hands, and there's a lot of difference + between a hand and a pocket, old top. You can see what's in one and you + can't see what's in the other. And, by the way, Fitts, if we let the + socialists in this camp suspect that we're trying to introduce socialism + here, there'll be a revolution before you can say Jack Robinson. They + won't stand for it. They'd let out the blamedest roar on record if they + thought we were trying to deprive them of the right to feel sorry for + themselves.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth hurried over to the town-hall bright and early on this snowy, gusty + morning. The forenoon session of the school began punctually at 8:30 + o'clock. She was there half an hour ahead of time to see that there was a + roaring fire in the huge fire-place, and that the benches for the scholars + were drawn up close to it. There were two teachers besides herself,—and + both of them were experienced “school marms.” She taught the “infant + class,” comprising about a dozen tots. The three teachers took turns about + in building the fires, arranging the benches and cleaning the crude + blackboard. + </p> + <p> + There had been church-services the night before, and the benches were all + in use, arranged so that they faced the combination pulpit-rostrum-stage + at the far end of the room. Tonight there was to be a general committee + meeting to discuss the prospective financial scheme and the general + election that was to take place the following week. + </p> + <p> + The structure was not blessed with a paucity of names. If there was to be + a council-meeting or a camp assembly, it was called the “Meeting-house.” + On Sundays it became the “tabernacle.” Week-days it was known as the + “schoolhouse,” and at odd times it was spoken of as the “theatre,” the + “concert-hall,” and the “Trigger Island court-house.” In one corner stood + the grand piano from the Doraine, regularly and laboriously tuned by the + great Joseppi. Madame Careni-Amori gave vocal and instrumental lessons + here every afternoon in the week, from three to six. Among the older + children there were a number who had voices that seemed worth developing, + and the famous soprano put her heart and soul into the bewildering task of + stuffing the rudiments of music down their throats. + </p> + <p> + Ruth stopped just inside the door and looked about her in astonishment. + The benches had been drawn up in an orderly semi-circle about the + fire-place. Beyond them she observed the figure of a man kneeling before + the fire, using a bellows with great effect. The big logs were snapping, + and cracking, and spitting before the furious blasts. + </p> + <p> + She closed the door and started across the room in his direction. Suddenly + she recognized the broad back and the familiar but very unseasonable + panama hat. Panic seized her. She turned quickly, bent on making her + escape. Her heart was beating like a triphammer,—she felt strangely + weak in the knees. As abruptly, she checked the impulse to flee. Why + should she run away, now that the moment she had wished for so ardently + the night before was at hand? Chance had answered her call with amazing + swiftness. She was alone with him,—she could go to him and lay her + weapons at his feet and say,—as she had said a hundred times in the + night,—“I can fight no more. I am beaten.” + </p> + <p> + But now that the time had come for bravery, she found herself sorely + afraid. A chill swept through her,—a weakening chill that took away + her strength and left her trembling from head to foot. The crisis was at + hand,—the great, surpassing crisis. She found herself hazily, + tremulously wondering what the next minute in her life would be like? What + would be said in it, what would happen to her? Would she be in his arms, + would his lips be upon hers,—all in the minute to come? Was the + whole of her life to be altered in the brief space of a minute's time? + </p> + <p> + A warm glow suddenly drove off the chill. It came with the realization + that he was building the fire for her,—that his thoughts were of + her,—that he had stolen into the building to make it warm and + comfortable long before she was due to arrive,—and that he would + steal away again as soon as the “chores” were done. + </p> + <p> + He arose to his feet and stood over the fire for a moment or two, watching + its lively progress. Apparently satisfied with his efforts, he turned and + started toward the door. She was standing in his path, a shy, wavering + smile on her lips. + </p> + <p> + He halted, and after an instant's hesitation, stammered: + </p> + <p> + “I—I never dreamed you'd be around so early. I thought I'd run in as + I was passing and build a fire for—for the kiddies. Get the place + warmed up a bit before—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me say something, Mr. Percival?” she broke in, hurrying the + words. + </p> + <p> + He fumbled for his hat. “I am sorry if you are annoyed, Miss Clinton. + Please believe me when I tell you I hoped to get out before you came. I + came early so that you would not find me—” + </p> + <p> + “You are not letting me say what I want to say.” + </p> + <p> + She came toward him, her hand extended. “Oh, I don't want to thank you for + lighting the fire and putting the room in order. I want to tell you that I + surrender.” + </p> + <p> + “Surrender?” he exclaimed, staring. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot fight you any longer,” she said breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + He looked dumbly first at her hand and then into her eyes. She was an + arm's length away. + </p> + <p> + “Fight me?” he mumbled, uncomprehending. + </p> + <p> + “You—you said we could not be friends. I knew what you meant. If—if + you love me,—oh, if you do love me, we need not be friends. But I + know you love me. If I did not know it I could not have come to you like + this and—” + </p> + <p> + “Do I love you?” he cried out. “My God, I—I worship you.” + </p> + <p> + She held out both arms to him. “Then, we will try no more to be friends,” + she murmured very softly. “Here are my arms. I surrender.” + </p> + <p> + A long time after he said to her as they sat before the jubilant, + applauding fire,—the only witness to their ecstasy: + </p> + <p> + “Now I understand why we have never really been friends. It wasn't what + God intended. Even in the beginning we were not friends. We thought we + were,—but we weren't. We were lovers, Ruth,—from the start.” + </p> + <p> + “I tried very hard to hate you,” she sighed, drawing a little closer in + the crook of his encircled arm. “How wonderful it all is,—how + wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + “I never believed it could come true. I hoped, God, how I hoped,—but + it didn't seem possible that this could ever happen. I've wanted to hold + you in my arms, to kiss your dear lips, to kiss your eyes, to touch your + hair, to press you tight against my heart. And here I am awake, not + dreaming, not longing,—and I have done all these things. Lord! I + wonder if I can possibly be dreaming all this for the thousandth time.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of you when I came into this room,—not ten minutes + ago,—and suddenly I saw you. I was terrified. I knew then that my + dreams were coming true,—I knew it, and I don't know why I did not + run away. Any self-respecting, modest girl would have done so. But what + did I do? I, a supposedly sensible, well-brought-up—” + </p> + <p> + “You caught me trying to run away,” he broke in. “I give you my word, my + heart was in my throat all the time I was working over that fire,—scared + stiff with the fear that you would come in and bayonet me with one of + those icicle looks of yours. And see what really happened!” + </p> + <p> + They were silent for some time, staring into the fire. Suddenly his arm + tightened; he drew a sharp breath. She looked up quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you frowning?” + </p> + <p> + “I was just thinking,” he replied after a moment's hesitation. + </p> + <p> + He gave a queer little jerk of his head, as if casting off something that + bothered him. Into his paradise had slipped the memory of a night not long + since when he held the yielding, responsive form of another woman in his + arms, and felt the thrill of an ignoble passion surging through his veins. + The kiss of the sensualist had burned on his lips for days; even to this + hour it had clung to them; he was never free from the fire it had started + in his imagination. And always on Olga's red, alluring lips lurked the + reminder that she had not forgotten; in her eyes lay the light of + expectancy. + </p> + <p> + “Of whom?” asked Ruth, not coyly, but with a directness that startled him. + She seemed to have divined that his thoughts were not of her in that + brief, flitting instant. + </p> + <p> + “Of myself,” he answered, quite truthfully. + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand on his. “I forbid you to think of any one but me,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment. “I shall never think of any one but you, Ruth + Clinton,” he said earnestly. “You have nothing to fear.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you,” she said, and pressed his hand tightly. After a slight + pause, she went on, looking straight into his eyes: “I might have lost + you, dear,—and I could have blamed no one but myself. She—she + is very alluring.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “I've always been of the opinion that Samson's hair + needed trimming. His mother probably brought him up with Fauntleroy curls, + poor chap. If he'd had his hair cut regularly, he wouldn't have looked + such an ass when Delilah got through with him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite follow the parable.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, it's what a man's got in his head and not so much what + he's got on it that makes him strong,” he explained, still more or less + cryptically. + </p> + <p> + “I am beginning to see. You made good use of what you have in your head, + is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “I made use of what you put into it a good many months ago, dear heart. + You have been in my head and in my heart all these months, and so it was + you who made me strong. Without you in there, I might have been as weak as + Samson was before he had his hair cut. No sensible man blames Delilah. In + fact, men are rather strong for her. When you stop to think how long old + Samson got away with it, and what a shock it must have been to her after + she trimmed him and found there wasn't anything left to speak of, you've + just got to feel sorry for her. She took one good look at his head and + understood why he let his hair grow. He was like the fellow who wears long + whiskers to develop his chin. If Samson had had room enough in his head + for a thought of anything except himself, Delilah wouldn't have been able + to catch him napping.” + </p> + <p> + She could not help laughing. “You take a most original way of evading the + point. Still, I am satisfied. You did not have room in your head for any + one else but me,—and that's all there is to it. I can't help feeling + tremendously complimented, however. She is quite capable of turning any + man's head.” + </p> + <p> + “She plays fair, Ruth,” he said seriously. “She keeps the danger signal up + all the time. That's more than you can say for most women.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she; “she plays fair. She is a strange woman. She has given me + a lot of advice,—and I am just beginning to take it.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had believed what she told me three months ago,” said he, “this + glorious hour would have been advanced just that length of time.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth stiffened. “What did she tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “She told me I was a fool and a coward; that all I had to do was to walk + up to you and say 'Here, I want you,' and that would have been the end of + my suspense. She told me something I didn't know and couldn't believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! I like her impudence! She—” + </p> + <p> + “She told me you were as much in love with me as I was with you. Honest,—was + she right?” + </p> + <p> + Ruth sighed. “I suppose she was right.” + </p> + <p> + “And would you have come to me if I had said 'I want you '?” + </p> + <p> + “If you had said it as you say it now, I—listen! Good gracious! + There are the children!” + </p> + <p> + She sprang to her feet, blushing furiously. The door opened and three + small children were fairly blown into the room,—three swarthy, + black-eyed urchins who stared in some doubt at the “boss” and the adored + “teacher.” + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, children,” she cried out jerkily, and then glanced at each + of the windows in quick succession. “You don't suppose,—” she began + under her breath, turning to Percival with a distressed look in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't put it above 'em,” said he, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “We should have thought of the windows.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, we didn't,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + He went out into the storm with the song of the lark in his heart. + </p> + <p> + “God, what a beautiful place the world is!” he was saying to himself, and + all the while the sleet was stinging his radiant face with the + relentlessness of angry bees. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + As he swung jauntily down the road in the direction of his “office,” all + the world might have seen that it was a beautiful place for him. He passed + children hurrying to school, and shouted envious “hurry-ups” to them. Men + and women, going about the morning's business, felt better for the cheery + greetings he gave them. Even Manuel Crust, pushing a crude barrow laden + with fire-wood, paused to look after the strutting figure, resuming his + progress with an annoyed scowl on his brow, for he had been guilty of a + pleasant response to Percival's genial “good-morning.” Manuel went his way + wondering what the devil had got into both of them. + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky was peering from a window as he passed her hut. He waved his + hand at her,—and then shook his head. He had passed her three + dancing-girls some distance down the road, romping like children in the + snow. + </p> + <p> + Buck Chizler was waiting for him outside the “office.” The little jockey + had something on his mind,—something that caused him to grin + sheepishly and at the same time look furtively over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Can I see you for a coupla minutes, A. A.?” he inquired, following the + other to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Buck,—as many minutes as you like.” + </p> + <p> + Buck discovered Randolph Fitts and Michael Malone seated before the fire. + He drew back. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to see you outside,” he said nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” asked Percival, stepping outside and closing the door. + </p> + <p> + Buck led him around the corner of the hut. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't so windy here,” he explained. “Awful weather, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “What's troubling you, Buck? Put on your cap, you idiot. You'll take + cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Plumb nervousness,” said Buck. “Same as if I was pulling up to the start + with fifty thousand on the nag. I want to ask your advice, A. A. Just a + little private matter. Oh, nothing serious. Nothing like that, you know. I + just thought maybe you'd—Gosh, I never saw it snow like this up + home, did you? Funny, too, when you think how tropical we ought to be. + There was a bad blizzard a coupla years ago in Buenos Aires, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Come to the point, Buck. What's up?” + </p> + <p> + Buck lowered his voice. “Well, you see it's this way. I'm thinking of + getting married. Tomorrow, if possible. Don't laugh! I don't see anything + to laugh at in—” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, old chap. I couldn't help laughing. It's because I'm + happy. Don't mind me. Go ahead. You're thinking of getting married, eh? + Well, what's to prevent?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you approve of it? That's what I want to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure. Of course, I approve of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I just thought I'd make sure. You see, nobody's ever got married here + before, and I didn't know what you'd think of me—er—sort of + breaking the ice, don't you see.” + </p> + <p> + “She's finally said 'yes,' has she? Good girl! Congratulations, old chap,—thousands + of 'em'—millions.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that takes some of the load off my mind,” said Buck, as they shook + hands. “Now, there's one or two things more. First, she says she won't + come and live in a hut where five men besides myself are bunking. I don't + blame her, do you? Second, she says if we ever get rescued from this + island, she won't let me go to the war,—not a step, she swears. I + put up a holler right away. I says to her I was on my way to the war + before I ever met her, and then she says I ain't got anything on her. She + was going over to nurse. But she says if she gets married she's going to + claim exemption, or whatever they call it, and she says I got to do the + same,—'cause we'll both have dependents then. Then I says the + chances are the war's over by this time anyhow, and she says a feller in + the Argentine told her on his word of honour it wouldn't be over for five + years or more. But that's a minor point. What's rusting me is this: how am + I going to get rid of them five guys in my cabin?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you told them you're going to be married?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hell, they're the ones that told me.” + </p> + <p> + “It's pretty rough weather to turn men out into the cold, unfeeling world, + Buck.” + </p> + <p> + Buck scratched his ear in deep perplexity. “Well, it's got me guessing.” + He slumped into an attitude of profound dejection. “What we'd ought to + have done, A. A., was to build a hotel or something like that. If we had a + hotel here, there'd be so blamed many weddings you couldn't keep track of + 'em. That's the only thing that's holding people back. Why, half the + unmarried fellers here are thinking about getting married. They're + thinking, and thinking, and thinking, morning, noon and night. And they've + got the girls thinking, too,—and most of the widders and old maids + besides. I don't see how a smart feller like you, A. A., happened to + overlook the possibility of just this kind of thing happening.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, what have I got to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, darn it all, you'd ought to have put up a few huts with 'For Rent' + signs on 'em, or else—” + </p> + <p> + “By George, Buck! I've got it,” cried Percival excitedly. “Have you + thought of a wedding journey?” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” + </p> + <p> + “Wedding trip,—honeymoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we might walk up and down the main street here a coupla times,” + said Buck sarcastically. “Or take a stroll along the beach or something + like that.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with a nice long sea voyage?” + </p> + <p> + “Say, I'm not kidding about this thing,” exclaimed Mr. Chizler, bristling. + “I'm in dead earnest.” + </p> + <p> + “Has it occured to you that the Doraine is lying out there in the harbour—Here! + Look out! I don't like being hugged by—” + </p> + <p> + “My gosh, A. A! Oh, my gosh!” barked the ecstatic bridegroom-apparent. + “How did you happen to think of such a beautiful, wonderful—” + </p> + <p> + “How did I happen to think of it?” shouted Percival, just as ecstatically. + “Why, darn your eyes, why shouldn't I think of it? Why did old Noah think + of the Ark? Why, I ask you?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn't,” said Buck succinctly. “The feller that wrote the Bible + thought of it.” + </p> + <p> + “What time is it? Oh, Lord, nearly three hours yet before school is out.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, are you off your base,—lemme smell your breath. You act like—Wait + a second! There's something else I want to speak to you about. Is it—is + it all right for me to get married? She says I'll have to get your O. K. + before she'll move an inch. She says nobody can do anything around here + without you say so. So I—” + </p> + <p> + “You tell her I give my consent gladly, Buck, my boy. Give her a good kiss + for me, and say I'll speak to Captain Trigger this afternoon about passage + on the Doraine. By George, I—I think I'll go and speak to him about + it now.” + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged, boss. By gosh, you are a brick. There ain't anything you + won't do for a friend, is there?” + </p> + <p> + Percival blushed and stammered. “I—I've got to see him anyhow, Buck,—so + don't thank me. By the way, while I'm about it, I suppose I might as well + speak to Parson Mackenzie, eh? Or is it to be Father Francisco? And that + reminds me, I'll have to see Malone and find out about the legality,—got + to have the law on our side, you see, Buck. Something in the form of a + license,—United States of America and all that,—and also see + about fixing up desirable quarters on board the Doraine. I may have to + transfer quite a lot of—er—furniture and so forth from my hut + to the ship, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Gee whiz, A. A., you mustn't go to so blamed much trouble for me,” gasped + the delighted Buck. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What? Oh, the devil take you! Beat it now. I'm going to be mighty + busy this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do as much for you, A. A., if you ever get married,” cried Buck, + once more wringing the other's hand. Then he was off up the road like a + schoolboy. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before the noon recess, Percival returned from the Doraine. By + this time, the news had spread through the camp that there was to be a + wedding. Every one he met hailed him with the excited question: + </p> + <p> + “Say, have you heard the news?” + </p> + <p> + “What news?” + </p> + <p> + “There's going to be a wedding.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” said Percival to himself. “They must have been peeping + through those windows after all.” + </p> + <p> + Finding that he had ten minutes to spare before school was out, he decided + to call upon Mrs. Spofford. That lady received him with icy politeness. + </p> + <p> + “I have been expecting you,” she said. “Your friend Mr. Shay honoured us + with a visit yesterday. My niece is at the school. Will you sit down and + wait for her, or—” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. What was that you said about Shay?” + </p> + <p> + “I said he came to see us.” + </p> + <p> + Percival stared, “He did?” + </p> + <p> + “Please sit down, Mr. Percival. Do not ask me to tell you anything more + about Mr. Shay,” she went on hurriedly, and in some confusion. “I don't + believe he would like it,—and as he is a dangerous character, I beg + of you not to—” + </p> + <p> + “If Soapy Shay dared to intrude—” + </p> + <p> + “I implore you, do not think anything more about it. He was most courteous + and polite and all that.” + </p> + <p> + He remained standing, his gaze fixed upon her face. Somehow, he guessed + the nature of Soapy's visit. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he came as a tale-bearer.” + </p> + <p> + “I must decline to discuss the matter, Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Spofford,” he began, with all the dignity of a courtier, “I have + come to request the hand of your niece in marriage. I have loved her from + the very—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God!” groaned the trembling lady. “It has come at last! It has come,—just + as I feared. For pity's sake, Mr. Percival, spare her! She is—” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he broke in, flushing. “I think you misunderstand me. + I am asking your consent to marry her. I believe it is still customary + among gentlemen to consult the—” + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to interrupt you, Mr. Percival,” said she, regaining her + composure and her austerity. “What you ask is quite impossible. My niece + is,—ah,—I may say tentatively engaged. I am sorry for you. + Perhaps it would be just as well if you did not wait for her to come in. + She will be—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Spofford, I am obliged to confess to you that I have already spoken + to Miss Clinton, and I may add that she is not tentatively engaged. She + has promised to be my wife.” + </p> + <p> + She drew back as if struck. She was silent for many seconds. + </p> + <p> + “It would appear that my consent is not necessary, Mr. Percival,” she said + at last, “Why do you come to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, while you may not suspect it, I was born a gentleman,” said he + stiffly. + </p> + <p> + She received this with a slight nod of the head and no more. + </p> + <p> + “My niece, no doubt in her excitement, has neglected to ask you one or two + very important questions,” she said levelly. “First of all, have you any + means of convincing us that you do not already possess a wife?” + </p> + <p> + He started. “You are right,” he said. “That is an important question, and + she has not asked it. I have no means of convincing you that I have never + been married, Mrs. Spofford. My word of honour is the only thing I can + offer.” + </p> + <p> + She regarded him narrowly. “Do you consider that sufficient, Mr. + Percival?” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said he simply. She waited for him to go on, and was distinctly + impressed by his failure to do so. So far as he was concerned, there was + nothing more to be added. + </p> + <p> + “How are we to know what your past life contains? You may have left your + homeland in disgrace, you may even have been a fugitive from justice. We + have no means of knowing. You were a stowaway on board the Doraine. That + much, at least, we do know. We know nothing more. You are smart, you are + clever. Surely you must see yourself that under other circumstances, under + normal conditions, my niece would not have condescended to notice you, Mr. + Percival. We are on an undiscovered island, remote from the environment, + the society, the—” + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to remind you, Mrs. Spofford,” he interrupted, a trifle coldly, + “that you just remarked that you know nothing whatever about me. Isn't it + barely possible that my life may contain something desirable in the shape + of family, position and environment?” + </p> + <p> + “I recall that Mr. Gray did speak of knowing the Percival family. My niece + never allows me to forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gray did not know my family. He knew of my family, Mrs. Spofford, if + that conveys anything to you. Not that they would not have been proud to + have known him, for he was a gentleman. As for my own case, I can only say + that I am not a fugitive from justice, nor have I done anything more + disgraceful than the average young man who has been through college and + who, ignoring the counsel of his father, proceeds to find out for himself + the same things that his father had found out a great many years before,—and + his father before him, and so on back to the beginning of man. My + great-great-grandfather on my mother's side was a comparatively recent + settler in America. He didn't come over from Scotland until about 1750. My + father's people came over in the days of Lord Baltimore. Most of my remote + ancestors were very wicked men. You will find that one of them was + executed in the Tower of London the same week that Lady Jane Grey went to + her death, and another was openly in love with Mistress Nell Gwyn, thereby + falling into disgrace with a monarch named Charles. I admit that I come of + very bad stock.” + </p> + <p> + A fleeting twinkle lurked in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You are very adroit, Mr. Percival.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is as much as to say that I have an agreeable and interesting way + of lying. Is that what you wish to imply, Mrs. Spofford?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I say you are adroit because you place me in an embarrassing + position. If I believe your confession that you come of bad stock, I must + also believe that you come of an exceedingly good old Maryland family.” He + bowed very low. “My niece, Mr. Percival, is an orphan. I am and have been + her protector since she was fourteen years of age. She is the possessor of + a large fortune in her own right. Her father,—who was my brother,—gave + her into my care when he was on his death-bed. I leave you to surmise just + what were his dying words to me. She was his idol. I have not failed him + in any respect. You ask me to give my consent to your marriage. I cannot + do so. No doubt you will be married, just as you have planned. She loves + you. I have known it for months. I have seen this day and hour coming,—yes, + I have seen it even more clearly than she, for while she struggled + desperately to deceive herself she has never been able to deceive me. You + are a strong, attractive man. The glamour of mystery rests upon you. You + have done prodigious deeds here, Mr. Percival. All of this I recognize, + and I should be unfair to my own sense of honour were I to deny you my + respect and gratitude. I must be fair. Fear has been the cause of my + attitude toward you,—not fear of you, sir, but fear for my niece. + Now I am confronted by the inevitable. The thing I have tried so hard to + avoid has come to pass. In these circumstances, I am forced to confess + that I have not been without a real, true admiration for you. I admit that + I have felt a great security with you in command of our camp. But, even + so, you are not the man I would have chosen to be Ruth's husband. The time + is surely coming when we will be delivered from this island prison, when + we will return to the life and the people and the conditions we knew + before catastrophe made a new world for us. I am thinking of that time, + Mr. Percival, and not of the present. I fear my niece is thinking only of + the present and not of the future.” + </p> + <p> + He had listened with grave deference. “Forgive me if I appear impertinent, + Mrs. Spofford, but is it not, after all, the past you are thinking about?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer at once. His question had startled her. + </p> + <p> + “Youth does not live in the past,” he went on quietly. “It deals only with + the present. I love Ruth Clinton,—I love her with the cleanest love + a man can feel for a woman. It will not alter when we leave this island. + If we are fated to spend the rest of our lives here, it will endure to the + end.” + </p> + <p> + “You are speaking for yourself,” she said. “Can you speak for Ruth?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I cannot,” he admitted. “Nor can you,” he added boldly. “That is what + I meant when I asked if you were not thinking chiefly of the past. I + cannot say that Ruth will love me always, but I can say this: she loves me + now, as I love her, and in her heart she has said just what I said to you + a moment ago,—that her love will endure.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay I do think more of the past than of the present, Mr. Percival. + You are right about the future. It is a blank page, to be glorified or + soiled by what is set down upon it. Fate has thrown you two together. + Perhaps it was so written in the past that you despise. A single turn of + the mysterious wheel of fortune brought you into her life. Half a turn,—the + matter of minutes,—and you would never have seen each other, and you + would have gone your separate ways to the end of time without even knowing + that the other existed. No doubt you both contend that you cannot live + without each other. It is the usual wail of lovers. But are you quite as + certain in your minds that you would have perished if you had never seen + each other?” + </p> + <p> + The note of irony did not escape him. He smiled. “In that case, Mrs. + Spofford, we should not have existed at all.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head despairingly. “You are too clever for me,” she said. “I + warn you, however, that I shall do everything in my power to persuade Ruth + to reconsider her promise to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could be fairer than that,” said he, without rancor. “If she + comes to me this afternoon and says she has changed her mind and cannot + marry me, I shall not ask her again. Will you be kind enough, Mrs. + Spofford, to include that in your argument? It may spare her a lot of + worry and anxiety.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed ceremoniously and took his departure. She went to the window and, + drawing aside the curtain, watched him until he disappeared down the road. + Then, as the curtain fell into place, she said to herself: + </p> + <p> + “Their children will be strong and beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + A fortnight later, Ruth and Percival were married. He was now governor of + Trigger Island. + </p> + <p> + The ceremony took place at noon on the Green in front of the Government + Building,—(an imposing name added to the already extensive list by + which the “meeting-house” was known),—and was attended by the whole + population of the island. His desire for a simple wedding had been + vigorously, almost violently opposed by the people. Led by Randolph Fitts + and the eloquent Malone, they demanded the pomp and ceremony of a state + wedding. As governor of Trigger Island, they clamoured, it was his duty to + be married in the presence of a multitude! A general holiday was declared, + a great “barbecue” was arranged—(minus the roasted ox),—and + when it was all over, the joyous throng escorted the governor and his lady + to the gaily decorated “barge” that was to transport them from the landing + to the Doraine. + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky made the bride's bonnet and veil, and draped the latter on the + morning of the wedding day. Like the fabled merchants of the Arabian + Nights she appeared to the bride-elect and displayed her wares. From the + depths of her theatre trunks she produced a bewildering assortment of + laces, chiffon, silks, and the filmiest of gauzes. + </p> + <p> + “You must not be afraid zat they will contaminate you,” she explained, + noting the look of dismay in Ruth's eyes. “Zey have never adorned my body, + zey have never been expose to the speculating eye of the public, zey have + not hid from view these charms of mine. No, these are fair and virtuous + fabrics. It is you who will be the first to wear them, my friend. Take + your choice. See! Zis piece, is it not wonderful? It comes from Buda + Pesth. One day it would perhaps have caressed my flesh in the Dance of the + Sultan's Dream,—but, alas,—zat is not to be. Feel, my friend,—take + it in your hand. See? You could hide it in the palm of one of them,—and + presto! Throw it outspread,—and it is like a blanket of mist filling + the room. It is priceless. It is unobtainable. None except Obosky can + afford to dance in such imperial stuff as this. Take it,—it is + yours. It is my pleasure that you should have it. Better far it should be + your bridal veil than to drape these abandoned legs of mine.” + </p> + <p> + And so it was that the scant costume of the Sultan's Dream became the + bridal veil of the governor's lady. + </p> + <p> + If Olga Obosky was sore at heart, she gave no sign. On the contrary, she + revealed the sprightliest interest in the coming nuptials. Percival + himself had told her the news within the hour after his interview with + Mrs. Spofford. In his blind happiness, he had failed to notice the + momentary stiffening of her body as if resisting a shock; he did not see + the hurt, baffled look that darkened her eyes for a few seconds, and the + swiftly passing pallor that stole into her face and vanished almost + instantly. He saw only the challenging smile that followed close upon + these fleeting signs, and the mocking gleam in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “So?” she had said. “So the citadel is yours, my friend. Hail to the + chief! I salute you. But consider, O conqueror, what it is you are about + to do. You are setting a woeful example. There will be a stampede, a + panic. People will trample each other under foot in ze mad rush for + captivity. The wedding bell will crack under ze strain of so much ringing. + Everybody will be getting married, now zat they find it is so easy and so + simple. I congratulate you, my friend. You have been very slow,—I + have said she was yours for the asking, you will remember. She is good, + she is beautiful, she is pure gold, my friend. I am her friend. Do not + ever forget, my Percivail, I am her friend.” + </p> + <p> + He flushed warmly. He could not misinterpret her meaning. She spoke + slowly, deliberately. It was renunciation on her part. + </p> + <p> + “I understand, Olga,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but you do not understand!” she cried. “You are so very much + perplexed. It is enough for me that you are perplexed. I am content. I am + the puzzle you will never solve. So! La la! You will never cease to + wonder. Look!” + </p> + <p> + She pointed her finger at a man who was crossing the Green below them. + </p> + <p> + “I am a puzzle to zat man also. He thought that he understood.” + </p> + <p> + “Landover? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + A spasm of fury transformed her features. She hissed out the words: + </p> + <p> + “I did spit in his face last night,—zat is all.” + </p> + <p> + The thirteenth of April, 1918, came on Saturday. Defying superstition, + Ruth selected it as her wedding day. It was a bright, warm autumn day, + bestowed by a gallant sun, and there was great rejoicing over this + evidence of God's approval. It came as a winter's whim, for that night the + skies were black and thunderous; the winds roared savagely between the + lofty walls of Split Mountain and whined across the decks of the slanting + Doraine, snug in the little basin, while out on the boundless deep the + turmoil of hell was raging. + </p> + <p> + And so began the honeymoon of the stowaway and the lady fair, even as the + “voyage” of the jockey and his bride had begun a fortnight before. They + sat at the Captain's table in the ghostly, dismantled saloon. Above them + hung two brightly burnished lanterns, shedding a mellow light upon the + festal board. Outside, the whistling wind, the swish of the darkened + waters, the rattle of davits and the creak of the straining timbers. + </p> + <p> + Up from his place at the head of the table rose the gray and gallant + skipper. + </p> + <p> + “Up, gentlemen,” said he, his face aglow. “I give you the health, the + happiness and the never diminishing glory of the governor's lady.” + </p> + <p> + “May she never be less,” added the gaunt First Officer, who spent his days + ashore watching the growth of a new Doraine and his nights on board with + the failing master of the older one. + </p> + <p> + And in the rare old port from the Captain's locker they pledged the + radiant bride. + </p> + <p> + “A long voyage and a merry one!” cried Mr. Codge, the purser, as he + drained his goblet dry. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Furman Nicholas Chizler bowed very gravely to the lady on the + Captain's right, and then to the one at his left. + </p> + <p> + “What care we which way we sail so long as the wind's behind us?” quoth + he. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK THREE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + In the far-off Northland it is winter again,—the winter of 1919-20. + Trigger Island is bright and clean with the furbishings of summer. It is + January,—January without its coat of white,—January as green + as the tender gourd. + </p> + <p> + There are a dozen graves or more on Cape Sunrise; Betty Cruise no longer + lies alone out on the windswept point. Crudely chiseled on the rough + headstones are names that have not been mentioned in this chronicle, still + not the less enduring. One name is there, however, chipped in a great + black slab from the face of Split Mountain, that will never be forgotten + as long as Trigger Island exists: it is that of Captain Weatherby Trigger. + </p> + <p> + The master of the Doraine died aboard-ship in the second winter. After his + death the ship was abandoned. Mr. Codge and the half-dozen old mariners + who had made their home in the dismal hulk came ashore. + </p> + <p> + Grim and ugly and as silent as the grave, save for the winds that moan + through her portholes and corridors, she lies rusting in sun and storm, a + gloomy presence that fills the soul with awe. Even the birds of the air + shun her barren decks; less fastidious bats have taken up their abode in + the heart of her, and spiders great and small are at work on a sickly + shroud. + </p> + <p> + Twenty months have passed. Christmas and New Year's day have twice been + celebrated and another Easter Sunday has found its way into the faithful + journal of Peter Snipe, and with them two amazing Fourths of July when + there was coasting on the long slopes and winter sports on the plains. + There has been one bountiful harvest and seed has been sown for yet + another. The full length of the sunny plain is under cultivation. The bins + in the granaries are well-filled with the treasures of the soil; the + gardens have increased and flourished; the warehouse is stacked with fresh + and dried fruits, vegetables, honey, and row upon row of preserves! Great + earthen jars, modeled with all the severity of the primitive cave-dweller, + serve as receptacles. The grist-mill on Leap Frog River is busy from dawn + till dusk; the forge rings with the music of hammer and anvil; a saw-mill + in the heart of Dismal Forest hums its whining tune all day long. A noisy, + determined engine, fashioned by mechanics out of material taken from the + engine and boiler room of the Doraine provides the motive power for the + saws and the means to produce ponderous, far-reaching blasts on the + transferred “fog-horn.” + </p> + <p> + New and more commodious huts have gone up, roads have been blazed through + the forests, a logging ferry plies between the opposite shores of Mott + Haven, and a ship is on the ways above the landing “stage.” + </p> + <p> + At the top of Split Mountain stands a lofty wireless tower. For months it + has been spitting vain messages to the four winds. Out of the great + silences at rare intervals come faint flickers of radio calls, jumbled, + indistinct, undecipherable,—but, for all that, definite pulse beats + of a far-off life. + </p> + <p> + Trigger Island went mad with joy when the first of these aerial mutterings + was reported down from the mountain-top. “Only a question of time now,” + they cried in their delirium. But weeks went by before another sound was + heard. Now the report of feeble, long-separated manifestations, like vague + spirit-rappings, no longer caused excitement or enthusiasm,—only a + rueful shaking of heads. + </p> + <p> + Lieutenant Platt's station at the top of the mountain is a rude, + elementary affair, notwithstanding the many weary, puzzling, disheartening + months spent in its construction. The damaged, almost useless dynamo from + the Doraine had to be repaired and conveyed to the crest of the eminence; + what seemed to be fruitless ages were consumed in devising an engine with + power sufficient to produce even the feeble results that followed. And + when the task of installing the plant was completed, the effective radius + was far short of a hundred miles. Constant efforts were being made to + develop greater sending power, but the means at hand were inadequate, the + material unobtainable. + </p> + <p> + The firing of the Doraine's gun had long since been discontinued. The + supply of shells being greatly reduced, Lieutenant Platt decided to waste + no more of them, but to wait for some visible evidence that a vessel was + within signalling distance: a shadowy plume of smoke on the far horizon or + the white tip of a sail peeping over the rim of the world. + </p> + <p> + Frugality is the watchword. The days of plenty are sternly guarded so that + their substance may not be squandered; always there is the thought of the + lean year that may come, the year when the harvests fail and famine stalks + naked through the land. + </p> + <p> + The first law, therefore, is thrift. Not thrift in its common, accepted + sense, based on the self-denial of the individual, but a systematic + shoulder-to-shoulder stand for the general welfare of the community. There + is no such thing as waste on Trigger Island. The grim spectre of want and + privation treads softly behind every mortal there, and there is none who + treats its invisible presence with disdain. Even the wood-ashes from + stoves and fireplaces are carefully hoarded in hoppers, for the alkaline + solution obtained by treating them with water is lye. This lye is being + used chiefly in the production of a soap not unlike that made by thrifty + farmers' wives in the Argentine, experimentation with the pulpy fruit of a + tree belonging to the variety known as Sapindus marginatus bringing about + rather astonishing results. + </p> + <p> + For many months of the year the people wear sandals on their bare feet. + Only those who toil in the forests don the uncouth boots turned out by the + firm of cobblers known as Block & Nicklestick. Shoes, boots and + slippers of another day are zealously guarded by their owners, in + anticipation of still another day,—the day of deliverance. “Waste + not, want not,” is the motto of Trigger Island. + </p> + <p> + The second winter brought a double catastrophe, and for days thereafter + deepest gloom prevailed. Even the stout-hearted Percival drooped under the + weight of it. + </p> + <p> + Fire wiped out the work of months in the space of a few bleak, bitter + hours. The sturdy little ship that was so well along toward completion was + destroyed. + </p> + <p> + Months of faithful, patient, dogged toil had resulted in the construction + of a stout hull which stood proudly on the ways to be admired and + glorified by the eager, confident supporters of the determined little band + of builders. Six weeks more would have seen the vessel off the ways and + floating gaily on the surface of the snug little basin, ready for the + final touches, the provisioning and the ultimate departure of the hardy + company that was to take her out into the open stretches in quest of the + helping hand. For weeks a devoted, one-minded community had been preparing + food, raiment and comforts for the men who were to go forth in the new + Doraine. The masts and spars were in place, the forecastle and cabin were + almost ready for occupancy, the galley was nearing completion,—and + then came swift, relentless disaster. + </p> + <p> + The night was cold and windy. Down at the water's edge, almost under the + bulging side of the ship, two men had their quarters at one end of the + low, rambling carpenter shop. At the other end was located the forge. The + very thing they were there to guard against happened on this miserable + night. Fire broke out in the forge. + </p> + <p> + The man on watch had fallen asleep. His name was Smiley. It is mentioned + here for the only time in this narrative. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before midnight, his companion was awakened by the smell of smoke. + He scrambled out of his blankets on the floor,—and cursed the man + who still slept in his chair beside the smoke-befogged lantern on the end + of a carpenter's bench. Flames were creeping along the wooden partition + separating the forge from the shop. Half a mile away three hundred men + were sleeping,—but half a mile is half a mile. Before the watchmen + could sound the alarm, after their first courageous efforts to subdue the + blaze, the building was a roaring mass of flames and a gleeful wind had + carried tongues of fire to the side of the vessel where they licked + shapeless black patterns at first and then swiftly turned them to red. + </p> + <p> + Stark-eyed, shivering people stood far back among the trees throughout the + rest of the night and watched the work of months go up in flame and smoke. + Nothing could be done to save the ship. Hewn from the hardiest trees in + the forest, caulked and fortified to defy the most violent assaults of + water, she was like paper in the clutch of flames. In the grey of early + morn the stricken people slunk back to their cabins and gave up hope. For + not only was their ship destroyed but the priceless tools and implements + with which she had been built were gone as well. It was the double + catastrophe that took the life, the spirit, out of them. + </p> + <p> + And while the day was still breaking, the man who had slept at his post, + stole off into the forest and cut his throat from ear to ear. + </p> + <p> + But now, months afterward, another ship is on the ways. Indomitable, + undaunted, the builders rose above disaster and set to work again. New + tools were fashioned from steel and iron and wood,—saws, chisels, + sledges, planes and hammers—in fact, everything except the baffling + augurs. Resolute, unbeaten hands toiled anew, and this time the humble + craft was not to be given a luckless name. + </p> + <p> + Superstition was rife. All save Andrew Mott saw ill-omen in the name + “Doraine.” Steadfastly he maintained that as the Doraine had brought them + safely to the island, guided by a divine Providence, a Doraine could be + trusted to take them as miraculously away. And as for changing the name of + his prattling ward, he fairly roared his objection; though an uncommonly + mild man for a sailor, he uttered such blasphemous things to a group of + well-meaning women that even Sheriff Soapy Shay was aghast. + </p> + <p> + After the dreary period that followed the disaster, there came a sharp + awakening as from a dream filled with horrors. Something lying dormant in + the com-mon breast had stirred. It was the unbeaten spirit that would not + die. These men and women lifted up their heads and beheld the star of hope + undimmed. In a flash, the aspect changed. + </p> + <p> + “We must start all over again,” was the cry that awoke them, and from that + time on there was no such word as fail in the lexicon of Trigger Island. + </p> + <p> + Slowly, laboriously out of the ashes rose a new hull, a stauncher one than + its ill-fated predecessor. The year wasted in the building of the first + ship was lamented but not mourned. Cheerfulness, even optimism, prevailed + throughout the village. No man, no woman lifted the voice of complaint. + Resignation took the form of stoicism. A sort of dogged taciturnity was + measurably relieved by the never-failing spirit of camaraderie. There was + even a touch of bravado in the attitude of these people toward each other,—as + of courage kept up by scoffing. Even Death, on his sombre visits, was + regarded with a strange derision by those who continued to spin. They had + cheated him not once but many times, and they mocked him in their souls. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not afraid of Death,” was Buck Chizler's contribution. “I've just + discovered that Death is the rottenest coward in the world. He either + waits till you get too blamed old to fight, or else he jumps on you when + you ain't looking, or when you're so weak from sickness you don't care + what happens. I used to be afraid of Death. And why? Because I wasn't onto + the old bum; Why, look at what he does. He jumps onto weeny little babies + and feeble old women and—and horses. Now, I'm onto him, and I ain't + got any use for a cheap sport,—not me.” + </p> + <p> + The little community had taken to religion. As is invariably the case, + adversity seeks surcease in some form of piety. Men who had not entered a + church since the days of their childhood, men who had scoffed at the + sentimentality of religion, now found consolation in the thing they had + once despised. They were abashed and bewildered at first, as one after + another they fell into the habit of attending services. They were + surprised to find something that they needed, something that made life + simpler and gentler for them, something uplifting. + </p> + <p> + “We're a queer mess of Puritans,” reflected Randolph Fitts. “You know that + parrot of old Bob Carr's? Well, he took it out and wrung its neck last + night,—after all the time, and trouble, and patience he spent in + giving her a swell private education. There never was a bird that could + swear so copiously as that bird of Bob's. He taught her every thing she + knew. He worked day and night to provide her with an up-to-date + vocabulary. He used to lie awake nights thinking up new words for old + Polly to conquer. Now he says the blamed old rip was deceiving him all the + time. She began springing expletives on him that he'd never heard of + before in all his forty years before the mast. She first began using them + a couple of months ago when he undertook to reform her. He started in to + teach her to say 'good gracious' and 'goodness me' and 'hoity-toity' and + all such stuff, and she cursed so loud and so long that he had to throw a + bucket of water on her. + </p> + <p> + “Every time he came home from church, that redheaded harridan would open + up on him with such a string of vituperation that he had to hold his ears + so's not to forget himself and backslide. Well, it got so that Bob + couldn't live with her any longer. She simply wouldn't puritanize. The + nearest he ever got her to saying 'good' was when she said it with only + one 'o,' and then as prefix to 'dammit.' So he decided the only way to + reform her was to murder her. She managed to nip a piece out of his hand + while he was doing it, however, and he's had the hump all day because he + fell from grace and said something he'd oughtn't to. Yes, sir; we're a + queer mess of Puritans. Look at us. Catholics, Presbyterians, Baptists, + Methodists, Jews, infidels, Theosophists,—even Christian Scientists,—all + rolled up into one big bundle labeled: 'Handle with Prayer.' We know + nearly all the Ten Commandments by heart, and the Beatitudes flow from us + in torrents. My wife was saying only the other night that if Sheriff Shay + didn't arrest that bird for using profane language, she'd start a petition + to have—Hello, Soapy! I didn't know you were present.” + </p> + <p> + “What was she going to do?” demanded the Sheriff of Trigger Island. + </p> + <p> + “There's no use telling you now. It's too late. Polly has gone to a place + I don't dare mention, so what's the use talking about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't go 'round pinchin' fallen parrots,” growled Soapy. “Besides, I'm + the feller that learned her most of the cuss-words old Bob never heard + before. I never saw a bird that was so anxious to improve. She used to set + there with her ear cocked, just simply crazy to learn something new. Every + time she'd see me coming she'd begin to hop up and down on her perch and + call me names, figurin' I'd lose my temper and give her a tongue lashin'. + Gosh, I'm glad she's dead. It was gettin' to be an awful nuisance chasing + parrots out of the trees back of Bob's house. They got so's they'd come + down there and set around all day pickin' up things she said. Somebody + told me the other day he heard a parrot 'way up in the woods swearin' like + a sailor. He fired a club at it, and what do you think it said to him?” + </p> + <p> + “If you weren't such an ungodly liar, Soapy, I'd ask you,” said Chief + Justice Malone. + </p> + <p> + Soapy regarded him sorrowfully. + </p> + <p> + “If you keep on sayin' things like that, Judge, I'll have to tell your + wife you ain't true to her,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “And that would be the most prodigious lie you ever told,” exclaimed Mr. + Malone. + </p> + <p> + “Sure. You and me know it's a lie, but you'd ketch hell, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + The population of Trigger Island has increased. Following the example of + Buck Chizler and the Governor himself, scores of dubious lovers took + heart. They succeeded in dispelling certain misgivings—and doubts + lurking in the hearts,—not to say consciences,—of + approximately three-fourths of the unmarried women on the island, with the + result that Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie were kept exceedingly + busy for a number of weeks. + </p> + <p> + The “state,” guided by the newly elected Chief Justice, extracted vows + even more severe than those incorporated in the marriage service. And yet, + despite the emphatic declarations of certain candidates,—principally + male,—there remained in the minds of all,—including brides,—a + lingering doubt. On the other hand, several ardent and undoubtedly honest + gentlemen were unable to marry the objects of their affection for the + simple reason that too many people were able to recall the lamentations of + the ladies themselves, in the early days when it was customary to suffer + because of the suspense and agony their poor husbands were enduring at + home. + </p> + <p> + The case of Joe Hooker and Matilda Larson was particularly distressing, + and ultimately led to the passage of a rather drastic law by the Council. + Judge Malone was the father of this law. It provided for the automatic + annulment of all previous marriages at the expiration of two years,—provided, + however, the absent husband or wife didn't turn up to contest the matter. + This law also granted absolute freedom to the absent husband or wife, who + was thereby authorized to remarry without further notice,—or words + to that effect. It was, declared Randolph Fitts, a perfectly just and + equable law, and would no doubt ease the minds of quite a number of people + in far-off lands,—if they ever heard of it. + </p> + <p> + Joe and Matilda had been married nearly two months when, in the thick of a + connubial row, he demanded her passport. He even went so far as to + threaten her with his if she didn't produce it at once. Matilda's temper + was no milder than Joe's. She not only dug up her passport but a marriage + certificate as well, while all he could show was a passport. It was a very + unfortunate contretemps, in view of the fact that they shortly afterwards + kissed and “made up.” It so happened that there were quite a number of + witnesses to the flaunting of these damaging documents, and as Trigger + Island was then in the first stages of a religious upheaval, it was + impossible to overlook this definite instance of iniquity. Despite the + recantations of the chagrined couple,—and, it must be added, the + surreptitious disappearance of the incriminating papers,—the matter + was brought before the tribunal of justice. Chief Justice Malone was equal + to the emergency. Indeed, he had been expecting something of the sort, and + was prepared. He ordered both of the interested parties to bring suit for + divorce from their legal spouses, one for “failure to provide,” the other + for “desertion,” and promptly granted decrees, service by publication + having been obtained through the medium of the Trigger Island Pioneer, + printed monthly by Peter Snipe, editor and publisher, limited to an + edition of one, owing to the scarcity of paper, and posted conspicuously + for all subscribers on the bulletin board in front of the “government + building.” Additional spice was lent to the affair by the surprising + reluctance of Joe and Matilda to re-enter the paradise from which they had + been ejected. Apparently they had had enough of each other. Moreover, they + had both “got religion” and insisted on repenting at leisure, separately + and alone. But people took a very decided stand in the matter. They could + repent in any manner they liked after Matilda's baby was born, but not + before. And so they were married once more, and, strange to relate, lived + happily and contentedly thereafter. + </p> + <p> + Now, while all this may strike the reader as footless and trivial, it + really has a distinct place in the chronicles of Trigger Island. If, + perforce, the writer has succeeded in treating the situation facetiously, + it should not be assumed that the people of Trigger Island had any desire + or inclination to be funny about it. On the contrary, they took it very + seriously, and quite naturally so, if one stops to consider the narrow + confines by which their very existence was bounded. There were no such + things as “trifles” in the daily life of Trigger Island. The smallest + incident took on the importance of an event, the slightest departure from + the ordinary at once became significant. In other circumstances, these + people would have been vastly amused by the quixotic settlement of the + affairs of Joe and Matilda; they would have grinned over the extraordinary + decree of Justice Malone, and they would have taken it all with an + indulgent wink. As a matter of fact, they were stern-faced and intense. + They had made laws of their own, they had established a code. The + violation of either was not to be countenanced. It was of no consequence + to them that Judge Malone's methods were without precedent, that they were + not even a travesty in the true light of the law. + </p> + <p> + No one was more soberly in earnest than Michael Malone himself. The + proceedings were carried out with the utmost dignity and formality. There + were no smiles, no jocose comments. + </p> + <p> + Nothing will serve more clearly to illustrate the sense of isolation to + which the people of Trigger Island had resigned themselves than the fact + that they accepted the Judge's decision and the subsequent marriage as + absolutely unassailable, either from a legal or an ethical point of view. + </p> + <p> + The town itself was flourishing. Traffic and commerce were carried on in + the most systematic, organized manner. Everybody was busy. The utter + impossibility for one man or set of men to profit at the expense of others + naturally put a curb upon ambitions, but it did not subdue the spirit of + enterprise. + </p> + <p> + There is a baby in the Governor's Mansion,—a lusty boy with blue + eyes and an engaging smile. He is four months old, and his name is already + a household word on Trigger Island. It is not Algernon, nor is it Adonis. + It is John;—John Clinton Percival. + </p> + <p> + The Governor's Mansion is a pretentious structure. It has four rooms and a + bath! A wide porch extends along the full front of the house, with a + steeply pitched awning protecting it from the rain and sun. At one end of + the porch is a very cosy arrangement of hand-wrought chairs and a + commodious swinging seat. The other end, just off the parental + bed-chamber, has been converted into an out-door sleeping-room for John C. + Percival. The Governor's lady has no nursemaid. She does her own + housework, her own washing and ironing, and she takes care of her own + baby. (There is no such thing on Trigger Island as a servant. More than + one woman who reads this tale will sigh and murmur something about + Paradise.) Ruth still teaches in the little school. Though she is the + first lady of the land, she supports herself, she earns her daily bread. + It is the law irrevocable. There are no distinctions. Nor would she have + it otherwise. + </p> + <p> + The “Mansion,” as it was universally called, stands alone at the upper end + of the Green, facing the meeting-house. The nearest hut is at least two + hundred yards away. Work on its construction was begun the day after the + wedding. For weeks men had toiled eagerly, enthusiastically, voluntarily, + and in the first gay days of spring it was completed. Since then, the same + hands, the same thoughts, the same interests were constantly employed in + improvements,—not only to the house itself but to the grounds about + it. The Governor's “Mansion” became the plaything of the people. + Percival's protests were received with amiable grins. + </p> + <p> + “It's our house, boss,—not yours,” explained Buck Chizler, whose + spare time was largely expended in the development,—you might almost + say, the financing,—of a flower-bed on the lawn. It was to be the + finest flower-bed of them all, he swore. “This is government property and + we, the people, are going to do what we please with it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all very fine, Buck, but don't you think you ought to be spending + your spare hours with your wife, instead of puttering around here?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know who the boss of this job is? My wife. I'm nothing but an + ordinary day-laborer, a plain Mick, a sort of a Wop, obeying orders. Good + gosh, you don't think I've got brains enough to design this flower-bed, do + you? No, sirree! It takes an artist to think up a design like this. When I + get all these rocks in place according to plans you'll see what I mean. + It'll be a hum-dinger, A. A. This here thing running off this way is the + tail. Come over here and look at it from this side,—it's upside down + from where you're standin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Tail? Tail of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Tail of a horse. This is going to be a horse when it's finished.” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” + </p> + <p> + Buck was not above being irritated by the dismay in Percival's voice. + </p> + <p> + “Minnie's got her heart set on it, A. A.,” he explained. “It's going to be + a sorrel horse, you see,—with a blue tail and a red head. Mustard, + hollyhocks and geraniums is what she's going to plant here when I get the + bed fixed. Socrates,—he was the best horse I ever straddled,—he + was a sorrel. I took him down the—” + </p> + <p> + “As far as you've got, Buck, it looks more like a dachshund than a horse,” + observed Percival. + </p> + <p> + Buck eyed his work deprecatingly. “That's because there ain't space + enough. I had to either saw his legs off or else have him layin' down. + Minnie had him kneelin' in her first sketch, but gosh, it was the funniest + thing you ever saw. It ain't possible for a horse to kneel with his hind + legs, but she had him doin' it all right,—kneeling forward, at that, + with his tail stickin' straight up so's it wouldn't be in the way of his + heels. It's all Jack Wales's fault. He simply would put that blamed + sun-dial of his right in the middle of this plot,—and these doggoned + gravel-walks running every which way give me the blind-staggers. Why, A. + A., you got more gravel walks here than they've got in Central Park. And + all these scrubby hedges, stone walls, fountains, flower-beds, cedar + freaks,—my God, Perce, I'd hate to come home a little squiffed if I + lived in that house of yours, 'specially at night. Look at old Pedro and + Philippa over there, setting out that stuff that looks like sparrowgrass. + And that prize job of Ed Keller's,—my God, A. A., what good is a dog + kennel on this island? There ain't a dog inside a thousand miles. The only + one we ever had was that poodle old Mrs. Velasco had, and it died before—” + </p> + <p> + “That isn't a kennel, Buck.” + </p> + <p> + “It ain't? Well, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a Swiss chalet.” + </p> + <p> + “What does Ed Keller know about Swiss chalets?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,—absolutely nothing, Buck,” admitted Percival forcibly. + </p> + <p> + A tall, perfectly straight flagpole graced the extensive “front-yard,” and + from its peak floated the flag of Trigger Island,—a great white + pennon with a red heart in the centre, symbolic of love, courage, + fidelity. But on the tip of Split Mountain the Stars and Stripes still + waves from sunrise to sunset. + </p> + <p> + The new cabins are farther up the slope of the mountains, overlooking what + is now called the “old” town. There is something fairy-like in the picture + one sees at night from the Green below. Dozens of lighted windows gleam + softly through the foliage, for all the world like witches' lamps. The day + reveals thin, blue plumes of smoke stealing out of the tops of the trees + to be wafted off into nothingness; they come from invisible chimneys far + down in the leafy fastnesses. Up here are the huts of the newly married. + Almost without exception, they are tiny affairs, scarcely larger than the + metaphorical bandbox. Each contains two rooms. + </p> + <p> + During the very hot weather in January and February, the long, curving + beach is alive with oddly dressed bathers and idlers. This is at midday + only, when the sun is so hot and fierce that all work ceases for two hours + or more. Though the sun is hot, the water is never warm. A dip in the surf + is all that any one save the hardiest cares to take. They loll on the cool + white sands, under improvised shelters made of boughs, or indulge in + spirited games on the long level stretches. This is the play-hour of the + people throughout the hot months of summer. They “knock off” work of all + sorts, and seek relief from the stifling heat of the woodland in the cool + wet sands along the shore. + </p> + <p> + The costumes are strange and varied; some are pretty, others almost + ludicrous. Small children appear in a scant breech-cloth; women of all + ages and proportions wear a sort of one-piece “jumper,” arms bare and legs + uncovered up to the knees. The men affect nothing except trunks made from + coffee sacks. The few real bathing-suits belong to such experienced + travellers as Nicklestick, Shine and the Blocks,—regular and + persistent patrons of the hotels at Atlantic City, Palm Beach and + Rockaway. They never travel without a full and complete equipment. Mr. + Nicklestick, very superior in his red two piece “costume,” goes so far as + to contend that a man never should be without a bathing-suit, because, + says he, “it takes up no room in your trunk, and if you leave it at home + some one else is sure to stretch it so's you can't use it yourself again.” + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky and her three dancing-girls, Careni-Amori, and several of the + Brazilian ladies possess Ostend costumes in which they disport themselves + with complacent disregard for public opinion, favourable or otherwise. + </p> + <p> + “She's got 'em all skinned a mile,” was Morris Shine's comment upon Olga's + lithe, graceful figure. “Ain't that so, Abey?” + </p> + <p> + The remark was addressed to Abel Landover. + </p> + <p> + “Even so,” returned that gentleman, glaring at the offender, “it doesn't + give you the right to call me Abey. You've got to cut it out, Shine. + Understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said the affable Morris. “Only I've got a brother named Abraham, + and that was my father's name too. It comes natural to me to—Why, by + gracious, she's got the Venus Belvedere lashed to the mast. Did you ever + see—” + </p> + <p> + “I've never had the pleasure of seeing the Venus Belvedere,” interrupted + Landover coldly. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't?” exclaimed Morris, amazed. “The armless wonder? You ain't + seen her? Why, she's supposed to have the most perfect figger in the + world. Maybe you've seen her without knowing what her name is. They never + put the name on it, simply because every school boy and girl is supposed + to know who it is without being told. Funny you don't know—Oh, she + ain't alive, you know,—she ain't real. She's a statue,—thousands + of 'em turned out every year. Gee, the feller that designed that statue + must have cleaned up a pile. But, as I was saying, our little old Olga has + got her—Say, did you ever see a figger like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” broke in Landover shortly, “thousands of them.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Shine looked sceptical. “Well,” he said after a moment's reflection, + and with studied politeness,—having already offended at the outset, + “all I got to say is, you talk like a woman, that's all I got to say.” + </p> + <p> + Landover was a greatly changed man in these days. There had come a crisis + in the affairs of Trigger Island, not many weeks before the second annual + election in April, when he was obliged to show his true colours. The + banker suddenly realized with a shock that he was actually involved in a + well-organized, though secret plot to overthrow the so-called + “government.” He had been completely deceived by the wily Manuel Crust and + several of his equally wily friends. They professed to be organizing an + opposition party to oust the dictatorial Percival and his clique from + office at the ensuing election,—a feat, they admitted, that could be + accomplished only by the most adroit and covert “educational” campaign, + “under the rose” perforce, but justifiable in the circumstances. They had + led Landover to believe that he was their choice for governor. They went + among the people, insidiously sowing the seeds of discontent, hinting at + the advantages to be obtained by the election of an entirely new set of + officers, mostly from among the people themselves, but headed by the + ablest man on the island,—Abel T. Landover. They argued that as + treasurer and comptroller of currency he had shown himself to be the only + man qualified to direct the affairs of the people. + </p> + <p> + And Landover believed them. Despite his superior intelligence and his + vaunted ability to size up his fellow man, he was as blind and + unsuspecting as a child when it came to penetrating the real motives of + the conspirators. Vain, self-important, possessed of an abnormal conceit, + men of his type go ahead ruthlessly, ignoring the details, bent only on + achieving the ultimate. In Landover's case, he made the fatal error of + underestimating the craftiness of Manuel Crust; he looked upon him as a + blatant, ignorant ruffian of the stripe best known to him as a “beer + saloon politician,”—and known only by hearsay, at that. He regarded + himself as the master-politician and Crust as a contemptible necessity. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, Crust was using him to very materially advance his + own ends. The big Portuguese had a very definite purpose in mind. He had + no more intention of making Landover the chief man of the island than he + had of flying to the moon. He,—Manuel Crust,—was to have that + distinction! He despised Landover and all that he represented. He hated + him because he was rich, educated, favoured by fortune,—and given to + washing himself with unnecessary frequency and thoroughness. Manuel was + foul of body as well as foul at heart. He bitterly resented the sanitary + rules set up and enforced by the Council because those rules interfered + with what he was pleased to call his personal liberty. Why should he be + required to wash himself if he didn't want to do so? And why should he do + a great many silly things that Dr. Cullen ordered, just because a lot of + aristocrats were in the habit of doing them? + </p> + <p> + His hatred of Landover, however, was impersonal. The banker merely + represented a class. On the other hand, he hated Percival as an + individual; he hated him with every drop of blood in his black, venomous + heart. He had a certain grudging regard,—it might even be called + respect,—for the class to which Landover belonged; he was sometimes + conscious of a strange but quite positive sense of his own inferiority. + But he did not for an instant put Percival in the class with Landover. He + looked upon the young American as being no better than himself, and yet + the people from the Doraine had showered honours upon him, had made him + their chief, had suffered him,—a vagabond without a penny to his + name,—to marry the fairest and rarest woman of them all. What right + had this interloper to everything that was worth having, while he, an + honest fellow who always had paid his way, was denied even the smallest + place in the councils of the land? What right had he, a tramp, to sit upon + a throne? + </p> + <p> + Landover was an unwitting, but thoroughly self-satisfied dupe. He fitted + in very nicely with Manuel's plan to gain control of the island. There + were certain people who regarded the great banker as an apostle, a man to + follow, to be imitated,—such men as Block, Nicklestick and a few + others. Was he not one of the great financial geniuses of the day? Was he + not a power, a tremendous power, in the banking world? Was he not a man + who understood how to transform a dollar into a business block almost + over-night? For a time, sentiment had played tricks with their boasted + astuteness. Swept along by the current, they had failed to appreciate the + true conditions. They began to realize that it had been a mistake to keep + such men as Percival in power; behind the hand they went about convincing + each other that it was high time to rectify the original error. These, in + addition to the ignorant, easily persuaded rabble from the steerage,—who, + by the way, could give ample testimony as to Percival's ability to + “bluff,”—provided Crust with a decidedly formidable following. The + steerage people had but to be reminded of the time when Percival tricked + them so successfully. + </p> + <p> + Crust contended that if the American could fool them once, he would do so + again,—in fact, he went so far as to say that he had been doing it + all the time. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing open and above board about the methods of Manuel Crust. + He proceeded about the business of fomenting dissatisfaction and strife + with an artfulness surprising in one of his type. At no time did he openly + denounce the “government.” He was very careful about that. A jesting word + here, a derisive smile there, a shrug of the shoulders,—and in good + time others less politic than himself began to do the talking. Others + began to complain of the high-handed, dictatorial manner in which Percival + and his friends ruled the community. + </p> + <p> + The secret, stealthy opposition grew apace; it assumed sinister + proportions,—all the more sinister because it was masked by every + outward sign of submission. Crust had won friends right and left among the + very people who would have killed him not so many months before but for + the very man he was planning to destroy. + </p> + <p> + Outwardly he had changed,—not subtly, it is true,—from a + sullen, threatening bully into a hearty, smiling, sympathetic comrade who + laid himself out to be obliging. Even Percival was puzzled, if not + deceived, by this surprising transformation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + It was Olga Obosky who discovered and exposed the plot. A young Spaniard + had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with her. He was a good-looking, + hard-eyed boy from the pampas,—a herder who was on his way to visit + his mother in from Rio. He was a “gun-slinger” bearing close relationship + to the type of cowboy that existed in the old days of the Far West but who + is now extinct save for pictorial perpetuation on the moving-picture + screens. + </p> + <p> + Down in his wild young heart smouldered a furious jealousy of Percival. + Crust played upon this jealousy to fine effect. He did not hesitate to + feed the flame with sly speculations, innuendos and even tales concerning + Percival and Olga. + </p> + <p> + One day the Spaniard, in the midst of his violent protestations and + pleadings, became reckless with promises to Olga. He swore that if she + would have him he would make her the first lady of the land in place of + the stupid American girl who now held the honour. Then, having loosed his + tongue, he poured out the whole of the ugly scheme which was to alter + every existing condition on the island. The wiping out of the dictator and + his swell-headed gang of “intellectuals”; the seizure of all firearms, + ammunition and stores; the complete subjugation of the people, even to the + point of slavery; the elevation of Manuel Crust and his followers to a + state of absolute power; the confiscation of all property,—including + women! He naively advised her to jump at the chance offered her,—the + chance to avoid the most unpleasant feature of the new regime. + </p> + <p> + “As my woman,” he said, “you will be safe. It is understood. It is all + arranged. If you belong to me, nothing can happen to you. We shall be of + the elect. I am to be of the council. I am to be one of the masters, the—” + </p> + <p> + “But,” she cried, scarcely able to believe her ears, “how is all this to + be accomplished? How will the few overcome the many? You say there are + scarcely more than a dozen of you, my friend. What can a dozen men do to—” + </p> + <p> + “It will be simple,” cried he, his eyes flaming. “How is it that Percival + and his little gang hold all of us in bondage? It is because they have the + guns, the revolvers, the bullets. Well, we shall have the guns, and + everything. When the time comes, when the people have voted in the + election and a new party is in control, then we will have our chance. We + will have the upper hand. To hell with the people, Olga. They will count + for nothing once we have charge of the guns and stores. This Percival he + has ordered the election. He insists that the people be given a chance to + vote once a year, to elect some one to take his place if they feel like + it. He says it is only fair. Faugh! He laughs in his sleeve. Come! Your + promise! I love you. I must have you for my woman. I cannot live without + you. I will give you power to spit in the face of that woman down there—that + American aristocrat! We will be rich, we will be happy, we will have + everything. Diamonds and pearls and rubies and all the gold there is on + this island. We will be the ones to go away in the ship, and we will have + jewels to shame the richest of them.” + </p> + <p> + “We—you and Manuel and the rest—are to go away in the ship?” + she cried, cold to the marrow of her bones. + </p> + <p> + “Sure. Why not? Are we not to be the owners of that ship? It is your + chance to go back to the world again,—with me! Oh, and I agree to + this also: If you do not want me any longer after you are in Rio or Buenos + Aires or anywhere out there,—if you would rather be free again,—I + promise to release you. What could be fairer than that? Nothing! I shall + kill myself, of course, when you leave me,—but still I promise, and + I never break a promise. But I shall love you so much that you will never + leave me. You are my queen. Hell, how I love you—how I love you!” + His face darkened, then slowly paled. He realized that he had gone too + far. Leaning close to her, his frightened eyes not a foot from hers, he + said: “You cannot deny me now. I have told you everything. I do not know + why I have told you. I must be crazy with love of you. Ah,—the look + in your beautiful eyes! God, how it takes the weight off my mind. You will + love me,—you will be mine,—I see it in your eyes. When? When?” + </p> + <p> + She affected a bantering smile. She knew how to play with such fools as + he. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am a fool? How do I know you are not lying to me about all + this? It may be a trick to influence me. No, no! I am not such a + simpleton. You promise me diamonds, and gold, and much love. You promise + to take me away from this dreadful place on a ship, back to the world I + worship. But you may be lying. I must have something better than your + word, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am telling you the truth. I swear it!” he cried eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Keep your hands off of me,—do you hear! Don't touch me! Not yet, + not yet. I must have some proof that you can give me all these things you + offer. Will you have Manuel Crust guarantee that—” + </p> + <p> + “My God,—Manuel,—he must not know I have spoken to you. He + must never know,” he gasped. “Take my word,—believe me, beloved one. + It is the God's truth I tell you. Within the month I will lay diamonds, + pearls,—everything,—at your feet. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me now. Come again,—tomorrow. I must think. I must—” + </p> + <p> + “But you will love me? You will come to me? You—” + </p> + <p> + “You are a very handsome boy,” she said softly, “and I should like to + believe you.” + </p> + <p> + He followed her for a few steps, trouble in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It is not enough. I must have your promise,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him coldly. “You will have it when I am ready to give it,” + she said, and his face lightened for a moment, only to darken again. + </p> + <p> + “I will cut your heart out if you breathe a word of this to any one,” he + whispered hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the way for a lover to speak?” she returned. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “It is the way,—with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to me tomorrow and tell me exactly what my share of the treasure is + to be,—and then I will let you know whether it is to be you—or + Manuel Crust, my friend. Oh, you see, I am greedy,—and I can love + Manuel quite as easily as I can love—” + </p> + <p> + “I will cut his heart out if you—” + </p> + <p> + “There—there! It will not be necessary. Come tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + That same afternoon she went to Percival with the Spaniard's story. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll nip that in the bud,” said he, setting his jaw. “The first + thing to do is to warn Landover.” + </p> + <p> + “Warn Landover!” cried the Russian. “He is all mix up in it,—he is + one of ze ringleaders.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he isn't. He's not that kind of a man. He doesn't know a thing about + all this, I'll stake my life on it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Olga,” cried Ruth, white-faced and troubled; “Fernandez will kill + you. He will,—Good heaven, girl, did he not swear to cut your heart + out if you—” + </p> + <p> + “Poof!” cried the other, snapping her fingers. “He will not do zat, my + dear. I am not afraid. Do you know what happens to informers in my + country? They vanish. No one ever sees them again, and no one ever asks + where they have gone. They are here today—tomorrow they are not. It + is the same the world over.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean,—Manuel's men will make way with him? How horrible!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not waste your sympathy on zat Fernandez. He is no good. You would see + what kind of man he is if this plot should succeed.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will have to give him your answer tomorrow,” cried Ruth. + </p> + <p> + Olga shot a keen glance at Percival's face. + </p> + <p> + “It is for you to say, Percivail, what my answer shall be,” said she, + after, a slight pause. A queer pallor spread over her face. + </p> + <p> + “For me to say?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not the governor? If it suits your plans for me to give myself to + zat man—” + </p> + <p> + “My God, Olga! What the devil are you driving at?” + </p> + <p> + “—to satisfy him until you are prepared to nip zis revolution in the + bud, as you say,—I shall—” + </p> + <p> + “Thunderation!” he gasped. “You mean you would sacrifice yourself—Great + Scot! What do you think I'm expecting to do? Go to sleep for a month or + so? Bless your heart, my dear Olga, if you are even thinking of getting + married to Fernandez, you'll have to be pretty spry about it. Because I'm + going to nip the business in the bud before tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Zat is what I thought,” said she, the colour rushing back to her face. + </p> + <p> + That evening Percival called a meeting of the “cabinet,”—as the + council was now called. They were asked to come to his home, instead of to + the meetinghouse. This, of itself, was surprising. Landover had never set + foot inside the “governor's mansion.” While his attitude toward the + “governor's lady” was studiedly courteous, he made no effort to resume the + intimate and friendly relationship that existed before her marriage to his + enemy. Contact with Percival was unavoidable. They met frequently in + “cabinet” conferences, but avoided each other at all other times. + </p> + <p> + He came to this hastily called meeting, however, and Percival was the only + man present who was not dumbfounded. Sheriff Shay, in summoning the + members to this secret meeting, had delivered a message that Landover + could not well afford to ignore. + </p> + <p> + Seventeen men were crowded into the little sitting-room of the house. Each + one of them bore a high-sounding title. There were present, besides + Percival, State Treasurer Landover, Chief Justice Malone, Minister of War + Platt, Minister of Marine Mott, Minister of Agriculture Pedro Drom, State + Clerk Flattner, Surgeon General Cullen, Lord High Sheriff Shay, and the + following members of the Executive Council: Snipe, Block, Jones, Fitts, + Knapendyke, Calkins, Ruiz' and Alvara. Ruiz was a Chilean merchant and + Alvara a Brazilian coffee grower. Calkins was an English cattle buyer. + </p> + <p> + Percival, with his customary abruptness, announced that there was a plot + on foot to destroy the present government and turn the island over to the + mercy of a gang of desperadoes headed by Manuel Crust. + </p> + <p> + Landover was on his feet in an instant. + </p> + <p> + “I am in a position, gentlemen, to declare that there is not a word of + truth in that statement. It is true there is a very definite movement on + foot to organize a new party to contest the election of many of us who are + gathered here tonight. The people want a change. They are dissatisfied. + They have a right to vote as they please, to choose their own—” + </p> + <p> + “We are not here to discuss the election, Mr. Landover,” broke in + Percival. “Before we go any farther, however, I wish to state that if you + are chosen Governor of Trigger Island, you will find no one more willing + and ready to serve you than I. But, that is beside the question. If you + will listen to me, I will tell you exactly what it is that confronts us. + The election next month is to be the signal for all kinds of hell. You may + be elected governor, Mr. Landover,—but you will not be allowed to + serve. Now, here is the story that came to me today,—and I can vouch + for it. I am authorized,—in fact I am commanded to reveal to you the + name of my informant. You may be sure I did my best to prevail upon her to + remain unknown, for the present, at least, but she threatened to go forth + and shout her story from the housetops if I did not do as she wished.” + </p> + <p> + The conference ended an hour later, and Abel Landover had shown his true + colours at last. He stood up, his face drawn and haggard, his eyes ablaze, + his voice husky, and addressed the group. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, I have been wrong. I am grateful to Mr. Percival for his + generosity in warning me of the danger into which I was rushing. We have + not been friends. He could have left me to my fate. I would not have + blamed him. He has played fair,—and I have not. I ask you all to + bear witness to that humiliating admission. I have argued here tonight + against all of you,—when down in my heart I had the sickening fear + that this damnable story is true. I now believe it to be true. I now see + through the whole devilish game. + </p> + <p> + “I give you my word of honour as a gentleman and an American, I did not + realize the true conditions until tonight. Perhaps I might have found out + in time to upset their plans,—but that is doubtful. These men are + smart. They are natural born plotters. They are dark men with dark souls. + This fellow Fernandez has fooled me completely. He is a gay, smiling boy, + but now that I have heard Madame Obosky's account of him, I recall many + little traits in his make-up that go far to substantiate my new opinion of + him. I never quite understood till now why he hated you, Percival. + Frankly, I knew that he had it in his heart to kill you. Crust has told me + of his difficulty in keeping him from running a knife into you. I thought + it was all talk, boyish bravado,—but now I know he meant it.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his head and set his jaw. “Gentlemen, I have a shameful + confession to make. Ever since I can remember, my sole thought has been to + rule. I did not know what it was to take orders from another man until I + came to this island. My whole being has been in revolt. The thought + uppermost in my mind for two years has been to re-establish myself as a + dominating force. To that end, I have played pretty bad politics. I have + worked upon the credulity and cupidity of these men, promising them + positions of authority if I were chosen by vote to govern the affairs of + this island. But, I am sure you all will believe me when I say that it was + my purpose to administer those affairs honestly, fairly and as capably as + I knew how. I was not only deceived by these men, but by myself as well. I + have played, like a blundering fool, into their hands. My chagrin is + beyond words. I can only say to you now that you may count upon my + unfailing support in any action you may decide to take. My forebears were + honest, loyal, law-abiding Americans. I—I think I may say without + fear of contradiction that it is impossible for me to run otherwise than + true to form. + </p> + <p> + “I lied, Percival, to Ruth Clinton about the encounter in my stateroom on + the Doraine. Believe me or not as you see fit, but I think that was the + only deliberate lie I have ever told in my life. I have done a great many + high-handed things, I have been inconsiderate of others, I have crushed + opposition in my own way, I have never allowed myself to acknowledge + defeat. My hand has been against you since the day you appeared on the + decks of the Doraine. It was not in my nature to see good in you. To me, + you were a good-for-nothing—Well, I'm glad to see you smile! That is + the devil with you,—your confounded smile. I ask you to overlook + what I have said, and done—and been, Percival,—and shake + hands. You have nothing to apologize for. There never has been a time in + all these months that I have not felt you to be a real man, an honest one, + and a gentleman. I think I know an honest man when I see one,—indeed, + it is my business to read men,—and I rarely make a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + As the two men shook hands, Randolph Fitts remarked drily: + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me I remember your saying something of the sort the first day + you ever laid eyes on A. A., Abel.” + </p> + <p> + “The trouble is,” put in Soapy Shay sarcastically, “you don't know a + dishonest one when you see him, Bill.” + </p> + <p> + “Veil, let's get down to business,” said Moses Block nervously. “Ve must + go slow and careful-like. If we show our hands too soon, they will uprise + and—veil, I don't know vat!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mott, what would you do if you got wind of a plot like this aboard + ship?” inquired Percival, his eyes narrowing. + </p> + <p> + “I would have the whole gang in chains before morning. Then I'd give 'em a + taste of the 'cat' at daybreak, and before noon I'd have the ringleaders + hanging from a yard-arm,” said Andrew Mott, succinctly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my gracious!” gulped Mr. Block. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I'll tell you what would happen up in Copperhead Camp,” said + Percival, darkly. “They would get a beautiful cow-hiding and then + sentenced to wear a ball and chain, day and night, for anywhere from six + months to two years,—depending largely on the process of + regeneration. My experience has been that six months is enough.” + </p> + <p> + “We wouldn't dare do that, A. A.,” said Fitts. “You must not forget public + sentiment,—and public pity. I've got a better plan. How far out is + that little island off New Gibraltar, Platt?” + </p> + <p> + “A quarter of a mile, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if they're not satisfied with life and conditions here, let's make + 'em a present of a nice little island of their own. That's what I've + always advocated as the proper way to treat anarchists. Stick 'em away on + an island completely surrounded by sharks and let 'em run it to suit + themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “But there are no sharks in these waters,” said Flattner. “They'd swim + over here some night and slit all our throats.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a chance. They hate water too much to have ever learned how to swim. + Now, here's the scheme. Round up as many of them as we're dead sure about, + row 'em out to the island, dump 'em with enough food and water to last a + week, supply them with tents and beds and tools, and let 'em build their + own penitentiary. They'll have to do it or freeze next winter. Once a week + send food and drink out to them. The water is a hundred fathoms deep + between Trigger Island and that little green wart out there on the face of + the ocean. It will look like a million miles to them. How does it strike + you, gentlemen?” + </p> + <p> + Off the precipitous western extremity of Trigger Island lies a tiny scrap + of tree-covered land. It is perhaps one hundred yards wide and thrice as + long. An exploring party had visited it shortly after the wreck of the + Doraine, but since then no one had set foot upon its shores. Its steep + slopes, densely wooded, viewed from afar, suggested a mountain top + sticking up out of the sea. By boat, skirting the coast, it was a good ten + miles distant from the town. + </p> + <p> + Three men were seized that night and put through a rigid examination. + Early the next morning twelve more were taken, Manuel Crust among them. + Half of them, in their terror, “squealed.” Crust himself was one of these. + Almost before the people of the town knew what was afoot, the fifteen had + been tried, convicted, and were on their way to the landing where boats + were waiting to take them and their belongings off into exile. As for the + conspirators themselves, the blow was so swift, so sudden, that they were + dazed. It was like a bolt out of a clear sky. + </p> + <p> + Judge Malone sent them to “the Island” for indeterminate periods. At + stated intervals they were to be released, one by one, and restored to + citizenship. The shortest term of exile, however, was one year. The + releases were to be decided by lot, except in the case of three men: + Crust, Fernandez and an Irish sailor named Clark. They were the + ringleaders and they were to remain on “the Island” until the time came + for them to go aboard the relief ship with all the other citizens of + Trigger. At the end of the first year, and once a month thereafter for + twelve months, drawings were to be held, and the man whose name was drawn + would be released. + </p> + <p> + “You are prisoners of state,” said Judge Malone, in passing sentence. “The + state is obliged to feed you, and clothe you, and sustain you if you fall + ill, no matter how bitterly it goes against the grain. You will not be + obliged to work, or wash, or observe a single law. You may rob each other + to your hearts' content, you may murder each other with perfect impunity, + you may do just as you like. We started out to conduct the affairs of this + island along lines laid down by the Golden Rule. I have come to the + conclusion that the Golden Rule would be all right if it were not for the + human race. I am beginning to believe that the Rule of Iron is the only + one for the people of this earth to live under,—and that is a pretty + hard thing for an Irishman to say. You men ought to be lined up against a + wall and shot. We do not feel that we have the right to take your lives. + It is not in our hearts to destroy you, as you would have destroyed us. + But you may not dwell among us.” + </p> + <p> + Fernandez, wild with fury, shrieked vengeance upon the head of Olga + Obosky. Out of his ravings, the unsavoury crew gleaned enough to convince + them that he was responsible for their present unhappy plight. + </p> + <p> + “You will pay for this, you snake!” he yelled, foaming at the mouth and + shaking his fist at her. “I will drink your heart's blood! Remember what + Joe Fernandez says. I will come back here and get you,—Oh, I will + get you,—and when I am through with you your dog of a lover may have + what is left. I will cut you to pieces! I swear it—I swear it! Hear + my oath! You double-crossed me! You squealed on me! I will come back, and + I will drink your heart's blood! I swear it!” + </p> + <p> + He spat in her direction as he was dragged away with the rest of the gang. + Through his glittering, bloodshot eyes he saw the cool, derisive sneer on + her red lips. He had failed, however, to note the keen, appraising look + with which she searched the faces of his baffled, glowering companions. In + that long, tense look she had seen dawning comprehension change to + conviction; she had read his doom, so she could, in perfect security, give + him that scoffing, heartless smile to take with him on the journey from + which he was never to return. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen men went out to “the Island” that afternoon. From that day, the + authorities provided weekly rations for that number of men. To this day + they are ignorant of the fact that there are but fourteen mouths to feed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + In the cool of a balmy January evening, following what had been the + hottest day the castaways had experienced since coming to Trigger Island, + a group of men and women sat upon the Governor's porch. There was no moon, + but the sky was speckled with millions of stars. + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky, sitting on the squared log that served as a step, leaned back + against the awning post, her legs stretched out in luxurious abandon. She + was fanning herself, and her breath came rapidly, pantingly. Now and then + she patted her moist face with a handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “How warm you are, Olga,” said Ruth, who sat beside her. “And you must be + dreadfully tired.” + </p> + <p> + “I am hot, but I am not tired,” replied the other. “I could dance all + night, my dear, without tiring. Did you really like the children, Ruth?” + </p> + <p> + “They were lovely. You have done wonders with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Regular Isadora Duncan stuff,” sighed Peter Snipe, drawing lazily at his + pipe. “Woodland nymphs, phantom pixies floating on the wind, zephyrs in + the guise of fairies, dreams come true,—my dear Olga, you are a + sorceress. You change clods into moonbeams, you turn human beings into + vapours, you cast the mantle of enchantment over the midsummer night, and + we see Oberon, Titania and all the rest of them disporting on the breeze. + And to think that only this afternoon I saw all of those gawky girls + working in the fields, their legs the colour of tan bark, with sandals + that looked like canal-boats, skirts made of hemp,—just regular + kids. And you transform them tonight into gleaming cloudlets to float upon + the ambient atmosphere—” + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, Pete, stop being an author and talk like a real man,” + interrupted Fitts. “Can't you say, 'Gee, they was great, Olger'?” + </p> + <p> + It was “Twelfth Night,” and Olga's pupils had given a fairy dance on the + Green. To conclude the almost mystic entertainment, the great Obosky + herself had appeared in one of her most marvellous creations,—the + “Dance of the Caliph's Dream,”—the sensational, + never-to-be-forgotten dance that had been the talk of three continents. + There was no spotlight to follow her sinuous, scantily clad figure as it + spun and leaped and glided about the dim, starlit Green; there was no + blare of brass and cymbals, nor the haunting wail of flageolets,—only + the tinkle of mandolins and Spanish guitars to guide her bewildering feet,—and + yet she had never been so alluring. + </p> + <p> + When it was all over,—when the charmed circle of faces had vanished + into the byways of the night,—she came and flung herself down upon + the steps of the Governor's mansion. She had wrapped her warm body in a + sheath of yellow velvet; the tips of her bare feet were exposed to the + grateful night air. Her uplifted eyes shone like the stars that looked + down into them; her lips were parted in a smile; her flesh quivered with + the physical ecstasy that comes only with supreme lassitude. + </p> + <p> + “You never danced so beautifully in your life, Olga,” said Careni-Amori. + “And after two years, too. I cannot understand. I shall never sing again + as I sang two years ago. But you,—ah, you dance even better. I take + courage from you. Perhaps my voice has not gone to seed as Joseppi's has,—poor + man. Not that it had very far to go,—but still it was second only to + Caruso's, and that is something. How can it be that you improve with + idleness, while I—while we go the other way?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall never dance like zat again,” replied Olga, her eyes clouding. + </p> + <p> + “You speak as if it were your swan dance,” cried Michael Malone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall dance for ever,” said she, “but never again like zat. You + would ask why not. I cannot tell you. I do not know. Only can I say I + shall never dance like zat again,—never.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth turned her head quickly to look at the woman beside her. Olga's face + gleamed white in the starlight. Her eyes were still searching the speckled + dome, and the smile had left her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that, Olga,” she whispered softly. “You will delight great + audiences again,—you will charm—” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” interrupted the other, lowering her voice, turning her eyes + upon Ruth, and smiling mysteriously. “Great audiences, yes,—but what + are they? I appeared tonight before an audience of one. I danced as I have + never danced before,—all for zat audience of one. Your husband, my + dear. He one time informs me he has never seen me dance. Well,—tonight + I dance for him. Now, he can say he have seen Obosky dance. He will never + forget zat he have seen Obosky dance.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth laughed, but it was a strained effort. “He was positively enchanted, + Olga,” she said. Then she added: “But for goodness' sake, don't ever let + him know that you did it all for him. He will be so proud and important + that—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he knows I danced for him,” broke in the Russian calmly, in a most + matter-of-fact tone. + </p> + <p> + “You—you told him?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not have to tell him. He knew, without being told. La la, my dear! + Do not look so shocked. It is a habit I have. Always I dance for one + person in my audience. I pick him out,—sometimes it is a she,—and + zen I try only to please zat one person. I make him to feel he is the one + I am dancing for, zat he is all alone in the great big hall,—all + alone with me. Maybe he is in the gallery, looking down; maybe he is in a + box, or standing up at the back of the house,—no matter where he is, + I pick him out and so I think of no one else all ze time I dance.” + </p> + <p> + “And, by the same token, he is powerless to think of any one else. I see. + No wonder you charm them out of their boots.” + </p> + <p> + “And all the rest of his life he will remember that I danced for him + alone, zat man. As for me,—poof! I would not recognize him again if + he came to see me a thousand nights in succession. Once I saw a very tiny + boy in the stalls. He was with his mother and father. I danced for zat + child of six. When he is a very, very old man he will look back over the + years and see me dancing still,—always the same whirling, dazzling + thing that filled his little eyes and soul with wonder. So! Percivail has + seen me at my best. He will tell his grandchildren how wonderful Obosky + was,—and he will think of her to his dying day as something + beautiful, not something vile.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Olga!” + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear,” said the other, composedly, “I wanted to make a good + impression on zat virtuous husband of jours. Now he will think of me as + the artist, not as the woman. It is much better so, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes you say things that cause me to wonder why I don't hate you, + Olga Obosky,” cried Ruth under her breath. + </p> + <p> + Olga laughed softly. “I repeat zat Golden Rule to myself every night and + every morning, Ruthkin,” said she, somewhat cryptically. Then they were + silent. + </p> + <p> + Conversation on the porch behind them lagged and finally ceased + altogether. The soft swish of fans was the only sound to disturb the + tranquil stillness. + </p> + <p> + “Nineteen-twenty,” fell dreamily from the lips of Randolph Fitts's wife. + “I used to think of Nineteen-twenty as being so far in the future that I + would be an old, old woman when I came to it. And here it is,—I am + living in it,—and I am not old.” + </p> + <p> + “Presidential year,” said Michael Malone, as he struck a match to relight + the pipe that had gone out. “Doesn't take them long to slip around, does + it? Seems only last week that I voted for Wilson. I wonder if he'll be + running again.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! And if he can keep us in the war as long as he kept us out of it,” + said Peter Snipe, “we'll have to elect him again.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd give a lot to know whether we've got the Germans licked or not,” + mused Fitts. “We've had nearly three years to do it in.” + </p> + <p> + “Depends entirely on the navy,” said Platt, Minister of Marine, late of + the U. S. Navy. + </p> + <p> + “What can the navy do if the Germans will not come out?” demanded + Landover. + </p> + <p> + “Why, confound it all, the navy can go in, can't it?” + </p> + <p> + “The British Navy hasn't,” was Landover's reply. + </p> + <p> + “What's the use of speculating about the war?” said Percival, as he threw + himself on the grass at Ruth's feet. “Either it's over or it isn't, and + here we sit absolutely in the dark. They might as well be fighting on Mars + as over in Europe, so far as we are concerned. For God's sake, let's not + even think about the war. We'll all go crazy if we do.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right,” said Fitts, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “In any case,” said Malone, “Trigger Island has done all that any + self-respecting government can do. She has declared war on Germany. We + have nothing to be ashamed of. Still, I'd feel better if we could fire a + few shots at the dirty blackguards.” + </p> + <p> + “The war is over,” said Olga, staring up at the stars. “The Germans are + beaten. I have said so for many months, have I not?” + </p> + <p> + “You have,” agreed Malone. “But I don't see that you have anything on the + Kaiser. He said it was over in 1914.” + </p> + <p> + “'Don't argue with him, Olga,” said young Mrs. Malone. “He's Irish.” + </p> + <p> + “Like all Irishers he's longing for something he'll never get,” said + Fitts, drily. + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” inquired Mrs. Malone. + </p> + <p> + “Home-rule,” said Fitts. + </p> + <p> + Olga Obosky yawned luxuriously. “I am so sleepy. My sandals, Governor + Percivail. I am going home.” + </p> + <p> + He picked up the sandals lying on the grass beside him and held them out + to her. She coolly extended one of her feet. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot bite you. Put zem on for me, your Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + WEST WIND DRIFT + </p> + <p> + He knelt and, slipping the sandals on one after the other, fastened the + straps over her bare insteps. + </p> + <p> + “So,” she sighed. “Thank you. Good night, Ruthkin. No! I shall go home + alone. There is nothing to be afraid of now on zis island, my dear. The + ardent Fernandez is playing—what you call it?—pea-knuckles?—he + is playing pea-knuckles away off yonder on zat prison island, as he has + been playing for nearly a year.” + </p> + <p> + Little she knew of Fernandez! + </p> + <p> + Ruth and Percival walked around the corner of the porch with her, out of + sight of the others. + </p> + <p> + “It was a perfectly ravishing dance, Olga,” said he. “If I live a thousand + years I shall never forget how beautiful it was.” + </p> + <p> + “You see?” cried Olga softly, pressing Ruth's hand. “Was I not right?” + </p> + <p> + “Men are very queer things,” said Ruth, with a curious sidelong glance at + her husband. Then she squeezed his arm tightly and went on with a little + thrill in her voice: “Good night, Olga. Thank you for the lesson.” + </p> + <p> + “What's all this?” inquired Percival. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing you would be interested in, my friend,” said Olga, with a little + laugh. She waved her hand airily as she moved swiftly away in the gloom. + </p> + <p> + They watched her yellow figure fade into the starlit shadows. As they + turned to rejoin the others, Ruth said: + </p> + <p> + “I think you might have told her how beautiful she was, dear.” So much for + the native perversity of woman, even when she is most content. + </p> + <p> + He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon the soft, warm + palm. It was a habit of his,—and she never failed to shiver in + response to the exquisite thrill. She drew a deep breath, and leaned a + little closer to him. + </p> + <p> + “Look up yonder, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you see the one star in + all the heavens that shines the brightest? It is the only one I see when I + raise my eyes. The big, full star in the Southern Cross. The others are + dim, feeble little things preening themselves in reflected glory. That + great, beautiful star at the foot of the Cross is all that I can see. It's + no use for me to look elsewhere. That star fills my vision. Its splendour + fascinates me.” + </p> + <p> + She waited for him to go on. Her eyes were shining. But the analogy was + complete. She laid her cheek against his and sighed tremulously. After a + moment, they turned their heads and their lips met in a long, passionate + kiss. + </p> + <p> + “I should be content to stay on this dear little island for ever, + sweetheart,” she murmured. “My whole world is here.” + </p> + <p> + He stroked her hair lovingly, and was silent for a long time. Then he + smiled his whimsical smile. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right for you and me, dear,—but how about the future + President of the United States sleeping up there in his crib?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled up into his eyes. “It's a nuisance, isn't it?—having to + stop and consider that we are parents as well as lovers.” + </p> + <p> + They rejoined the group on the porch. + </p> + <p> + “I had a horrible dream last night,” said Peter Snipe, getting up and + stretching himself. “That's why I'm staying up so late tonight. I hate to + go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “What was your dream, Peter?” asked Ruth. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe in 'em?” + </p> + <p> + “Only in day-dreams.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I dreamed our little old ship was finished and had sailed at last + and for once our wireless plant up there began to get messages from the + sea. I dreamed I was sitting up there with the operator. It was a dark, + stormy night. The wireless began to crackle. He jumped up to see what was + coming. He was getting messages from our own ship, away out there on the + ocean. She was calling for help. 'Sinking fast,—sinking fast,—sinking + fast.' Over and over again,—just those two words. 'Gad,—it was + so real, so terribly real, that the first thing I did this morning was to + walk down to see if the boat was still on the stocks. She was there, a + long way from being finished, and—and, by gad, I had hard work to + keep from blubbering, I was so relieved.” + </p> + <p> + “It will take more than a dream to knock that ship to pieces,” said + Percival. “When she's ready for the water, there will not be a sturdier + craft afloat. Andrew Mott says she'll weather anything outside of the + China Sea. Don't look so distressed, Amy. Pete's a novelist. They never do + anything but dream horrible dreams. Generally they go so far as to put + them into print, and people read 'em and say they are wildly improbable,—especially + if they have a happy ending. It's always the happy ending that makes them + improbable,—but popular. Isn't that so, Pete?” + </p> + <p> + “If we didn't give them a happy ending, they would refuse to recognize us + the next time they saw us on a bookseller's counter,” said Peter. “Well, I + guess I'll be on my way. I've got a busy day tomorrow, setting up the + Trigger Island Pioneer,—and as I belong to that almost extinct + species known as the bachelor, I am forced to be my own alarm clock. Going + my way, Abel?” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Ruth,” said Landover. “Give the Lieutenant Governor a good + smack for me,—and tell him he is still in my will.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” grunted Fitts. “I'd like to know what you've got to leave the + little beggar. Your letter of credit?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” replied Landover. “Something worth while, Fittsy, my boy. + I am making it now. It's going to be a hobby-horse, if I live long enough + to finish it. Good night, Perce. 'Night, everybody.” + </p> + <p> + When the last of the company had departed, Ruth and Percival stood for a + long time in silence, listening to the far-off thrumming of a Spanish + guitar, their tranquil gaze fixed on the murky shadow that marked the line + of trees along the shore, her head resting lightly against his shoulder, + his arm about her waist. + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of, dear?” she asked at last. + </p> + <p> + “Peter's dream,” he replied. “It has put an idea into my head. The day + that ship down there sails out to sea with her courageous little crew, I + shall start laying the keel for another just like her.” + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke for many seconds. Then she said, a deep, solemn note in her + voice: “I understand, Perce.” + </p> + <p> + They went into the house. Later they stole tiptoe to the side of the crib + where slept the sturdy, sun-kissed babe. The two middle fingers of a + chubby hand were in his mouth. With one hand Percival shaded the pitch + candle he had brought from the kitchen. She leaned over and gently touched + the smooth, warm cheek. + </p> + <p> + “I—I can't believe he is real, Perce,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “He isn't,” whispered he. “He is something out of a fairy story. Nothing + as wonderful as he is can possibly be real.” + </p> + <p> + THE END <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's West Wind Drift, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEST WIND DRIFT *** + +***** This file should be named 6014-h.htm or 6014-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/6014/ + +Produced by Carrie Fellman, and David Widger + + +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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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: West Wind Drift + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6014] +Posting Date: March 26, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEST WIND DRIFT *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + + + + + + + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +By George Barr McCutcheon + + + +On a bright, still morning in October, the Doraine sailed from a South +American port and turned her glistening nose to the northeast. All told, +there were some seven hundred and fifty souls on board; and there +were stores that filled her holds from end to end,--grain, foodstuffs, +metals, chemicals, rubber and certain sinister things of war. Her +passenger list contained the names of men who had achieved distinction +in world affairs,--in finance, in business, in diplomacy, in war, +besides that less subtle pursuit, adventure: men from both hemispheres, +from all continents. It was a cosmopolitan company that sailed out to +sea that placid day, bound for a port six thousand miles away. + +Her departure, heavy-laden, from this South American port was properly +recorded in the then secret annals of a great nation; the world at +large, however, was none the wiser. For those were the days when sly +undersea monsters of German descent were prowling about the oceans, +taking toll of humanity and breeding the curse that was to abide with +their progenitors forever. + +Down through the estuary and into the spreading bay slid the big +steamer; abreast the curving coast-line she drove her way for leagues +and leagues, and then swept boldly into the vast Atlantic desert. + +Four hundred years ago and more, Amerigo Vespucci had sailed this +unknown southern sea in his doughty caravel; he had wallowed and rocked +for months over a course that the Doraine was asked to cover in the wink +of an eye by comparison. Up from the south he had come in an age when +the seas he sailed were no less strange than the land he touched from +time to time; the blue waste of sky and sea as boundless then as now; +the west wind drift as sure and unfailing; the waves as savage or +as mild; the star by which he laid his course as far away and +immutable,--but he came in 1501 and his ship was alone in the trackless +ocean. + +The mighty Doraine was not alone; she sailed a sea whose every foot was +charted, whose every depth was sounded. She sailed in an age of Titans, +while the caravel was a frolicksome pygmy, dancing to the music of a +thousand winds, buffeted today, becalmed tomorrow, but always a snail on +the face of the waters. Four hundred years ago Vespucci and his men were +lost in the wilderness of waves. Out of touch with the world were they +for months,--aye, even years,--and no man knew whither they sailed nor +whence they came, for those were the days when the seven seas kept their +secrets better than they keep them now. + +Into the path traversed by the lowly caravel steamed the towering +Doraine, pointing her gleaming nose to the north and east. + +She was never seen again. + +Out from the lairs of the great American navy sped the swiftest +hounds of the ocean. They swept the face of the waters with a thousand +sleepless eyes; they called with the strange, mysterious voice that +carries a thousand miles; they raked the sea as with a fine-tooth comb; +they searched the coast of a continent; they penetrated its rivers, +circled its islands, scanned its rocks and reefs,--and asked a single +question that had but one reply from every ship that sailed the southern +sea. + +For months ships of all nations searched for the missing steamer. Not so +much as the smallest piece of wreckage rewarded the ceaseless quest. The +great vessel, with all its precious cargo, had slipped into its niche +among the profoundest mysteries of the sea. Came the day, therefore, +when the Secretary of the Navy wrote down against her name the ugly +sentence: "Lost with all on board." + +Maritime courts issued their decrees; legatees parcelled estates, great +and small; insurance companies paid in hard cash for the lives that +were lost, and went blandly about their business; more than one widow +reconsidered her thoughts of self-denial; and ships again sailed the +course of Amerigo Vespucci without a thought of the Doraine. + +For months the newspapers in many lands speculated on the fate of the +missing liner. That a great ship could disappear from the face of the +waters in these supreme days of navigation without leaving so much as +a trace behind was inconceivable. At first there were tales of the +dastardly U-boats; then came the sinister reports of treachery on board +resulting in the ship being taken over by German plotters, with the +prediction that she would emerge from oblivion as a well-armed "raider" +cruising in the North Atlantic; then the generally accepted theory that +she had been swiftly, suddenly rent asunder by a mighty explosion in +her hold. All opinions, all theories, all conjectures, however, revolved +about a single fear;--that she was the victim of a German plot. But +in the course of events there came a day when the German Navy, ever +boastful of its ignoble deeds, issued the positive and no doubt sincere +declaration that it had no record of the sinking of the Doraine. The +fate of the ship was as much of a mystery to the German admiralty as it +was to the rest of the puzzled world. + +And so it was that the Doraine, laden with nearly a thousand souls, +sailed out into the broad Atlantic and was never heard from again. + + + + + +BOOK ONE. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The Captain of the liner was an old man. He had sailed the seas for +two-score years, at least half of them as master. At the outbreak of the +Great War he was given command of the Doraine, relieving a younger man +for more drastic duty in the North Sea. He was an Englishman, and his +name, Weatherby Trigger, may be quite readily located on the list of +retired naval officers in the British Admiralty offices if one cares to +go to the trouble to look it up. + +After two years the Doraine, with certain other vessels involved in a +well-known and somewhat thoroughly debated transaction, became to all +intents and purposes the property of the United States of America; she +flew the American flag, carried an American guncrew and American papers, +and, with some difficulty, an English master. The Captain was making his +last voyage as master of the ship. An American captain was to succeed +him as soon as the Doraine reached its destination in the United States. +Captain Trigger, a little past seventy, had sailed for nearly two +years under the American flag at a time when all Englishmen were looking +askance at it and wondering if it was ever to take its proper place +among the righteous banners of the world. It had taken its place among +them, and the "old man" was happy. + +His crew of one hundred and fifty was what might be aptly described as +international. The few Englishmen he had on board were noticeably +unfit for active duty in the war zone. There was a small contingent of +Americans, a great many Portuguese, some Spaniards, Norwegians, and a +more or less polyglot remainder without national classification. + +His First Officer was a Scotch-American, the Second an Irish-American, +the Chief Engineer a plain unhyphenated American from Baltimore, +Maryland. The purser, Mr. Codge, was still an Englishman, although he +had lived in the United States since he was two years old,--a matter of +forty-seven years and three months, if we are to believe Mr. Codge, +who seemed rather proud of the fact that his father had neglected to +forswear allegiance to Queen Victoria, leaving it to his son to follow +his example in the case of King Edward the Seventh and of King George +the Fifth. + +There were eighty-one first-cabin passengers, one hundred and nineteen +in the second cabin,--for the two had not been consolidated on the +Doraine as was the case with the harried trans-Atlantic liners,--and +approximately three hundred and fifty in the steerage. The first +and second cabin lists represented many races, South Americans +predominating. + +The great republics in the lower half of the hemisphere were cut +off almost entirely from the Old World so far as general travel was +concerned. The people of Argentine, Brazil and Chili turned their eyes +from the east and looked to the north, where lay the hitherto ignored +and sometime hated continent whose middle usurped the word American. A +sea voyage in these parlous days meant but one thing to the people of +South America: a visit to an unsentimental land whose traditions, if any +were cherished at all, went back no farther than yesterday and were to +be succeeded by fresh ones tomorrow. At least, such was the belief of +the Latin who still dozed superciliously in the glory of his long-dead +ancestors. Not having Paris, or London, or Madrid, or Rome as the Mecca +of his dreams, his pilgrimage now carried him to the infidel realities +of the North,--to Washington, New York, New Orleans, Newport and +Atlantic City! He had the money for travel, so why stay at home? He had +the money to waste, so why not dissipate? He had the thirst for sin, so +why famish? + +There were lovely women on board, and children with and without the +golden spoon; there were men whose names were known on both sides of +the Atlantic and whose reputations for integrity, sagacity, intellect, +and,--it must be confessed,--corruptness, (with the author's apology for +the inclusion); doughty but dogmatic university men who had penetrated +the wildernesses as naturalists, entomologists, mineralogists, +archaeologists, explorers; sportsmen who had forsaken the lion, +rhinoceros, hartebeest and elephant of Africa for the jaguar, cougar, +armadillo and anteater of South America; soldiers of fortune whose +gods had lured them into the comparative safety of South American +revolutions; miners, stock buyers and raisers, profiteersmen, diplomats, +priests, preachers, gamblers, smugglers and thieves; others who had +gone out for the Allies to buy horses, beeves, grain, metal, chemicals, +manganese and men; financiers, merchants, lawyers, writers, musicians, +doctors, dentists, architects; gentiles and Jews, Protestants and +Catholics, skeptics and infidels,--in short, good men, bad men, beggar +men, thieves. + +The world will readily recall such names and personalities as these: +Abel T. Landover, the great New York banker; Peter Snipe, the novelist; +Solomon Nicklestick, the junior member in the firm of Winkelwein & +Nicklestick, importers of hides, etc., Ninth Avenue, New York; Moses +Block, importer of rubber; James January Jones, of San Francisco, +promoter and financier; Randolph Fitts, of Boston, the well-known +architect; Percy Knapendyke, the celebrated naturalist; Michael +O'Malley Malone, of the law firm of Eads, Blixton, Solomon, Carlson, +Vecchiavalli, Revitsky, Perkins & Malone, New York; William Spinney, +of the Chicago Police force, (and his prisoner, "Soapy" Shay, diamond +thief); Denby Flattner, the taxidermist; Morris Shine, the motion +picture magnate; Madame Careni-Amori, soprano from the Royal Opera, +Rome; Signer Joseppi, the new tenor, described as the logical successor +to the great Caruso; Madame Obosky and three lesser figures in +the Russian Ballet, who were coming to the United States to head +a long-heralded tour, "by special arrangement with the Czar"; Buck +Chizler, the famous jockey,--and so on. + +These were the names most conspicuously displayed by the newspapers +during the anxious, watchful days and weeks that succeeded the sailing +of the Doraine from the port in the Tropic of Capricorn. + +Dozens of cities in the United States were represented by one or more +persons on board the Doraine, travellers of both sexes who, being denied +the privilege of a customary dash to Europe for the annual holiday, +resolved not to be deprived of their right to wander, nor the right +to return when they felt inclined. Whilom, defiant rovers in search of +change, they scoffed at conditions and went their way regardless of +the peril that stalked the seas. In the main they were money-spending, +time-dragging charges against the resources of a harassed, bewildered +government, claiming protection in return for arrogance. + +Far to the south, off the Falkland Islands, at the bottom of the sea, +lay the battered hulls of what ware supposed to be the last of the +German fighting-ships in South Atlantic waters. Report had it, however, +that several well-armed cruisers had either escaped the hurricane of +shells from the British warships, or had been detached from the squadron +before the encounter took place. In any event, no vessel left a South +American port without maintaining a sharp lookout for prowling survivors +of the vanquished fleet, and no passenger went aboard who did not +experience the thrill of a hazardous undertaking. The ever-present and +ever-ready individual with official information from sources that could +not be questioned, travelled with remarkable regularity on each and +every craft that ventured out upon the Hun-infested waters. In the +smoke-room the invariable word went round that raiders were sinking +everything in sight. Every ship that sailed had on board at least one +individual who claimed to have been chased on a former voyage by a +blockade-breaker,--(according to the most reliable reports, the Germans +were slipping warships through the vaunted British net with the most +astounding ease and frequency,)--and there was no one with the hardihood +or desire to question his veracity; indeed, it was something of a joy +to believe him, for was he not a living and potential document to prove +that the merchant marine could outwit, outrace and outshoot the German +pirates? + +The Doraine was barely twenty-four hours out from port and ploughing +along steadily through a choppy sea when Mr. Mott, the First Officer, +reported to Captain Trigger that a stowaway had been found on board. + +"German?" inquired Captain Trigger tersely. + +"No, sir. At least, he doesn't look it and, what's more, he doesn't act +it. Claims to be American born and bred." + +"That's what a great many Germans are claiming these days, Mr. Mott. We +can't take any chances, you know. Where was he found?" + +Mr. Mott cleared his throat. "Ahem! He wasn't what you might call found, +sir. As a matter of fact, he applied in person to the Chief Engineer +about half an hour ago and asked for a job. He said he was perfectly +willing to work out his passage home. Mr. Gray had him conducted to me, +sir,--rather sharply guarded, of course,--and he--" + +"Fetch him here at once, Mr. Mott," commanded Captain Trigger. "I'll +hear what he has to say first hand." + +"Very well, sir." Mr. Mott started away, hesitated, rubbed his chin +dubiously, and then came back. "He's having a bit of breakfast, sir, and +has asked for the loan of Mr. Codge's razors--" + +"What?" roared the captain. + +"I informed him he would have to appear before you at once, sir, and he +said he was quite willing to do so, but would it be possible for him +to tidy up a bit beforehand. I am obliged to confess, sir, that I have +never encountered a more interesting stowaway in all my career, which +leads me to confess still further that I gave orders to feed him,--he +hasn't had a mouthful to eat since we left port, owing to the fact, he +says, that his luggage shifted the first day out and try as he would +he couldn't locate it without a match, or something to that effect,--he +rather stumped me, sir, with the graceful way he lies,--and then Mr. +Codge agreed to let him take one of his razors, and when I left him +below, sir, it seemed quite certain that Mr. Gray was on the point of +lending him a shirt and a change of underwear. I--" + +"Good God, sir!" gasped Captain Trigger, with something more than +emotion in his voice. "What is this you are telling me?" + +"He seems a most likeable chap," explained Mr. Mott lamely. "Quite +a courteous fellow, too, sir. I forgot to mention that he sent his +compliments to you and asks for an interview at your earliest conven--" + +"Asked for an interview? Drag him here at once--by the heels, if +necessary. Tell him I shan't keep him waiting an instant," said the +captain ironically. + +Mr. Mott still hesitated. "In the event, sir, that he is in the midst of +shaving--" + +"I don't care a hang what he's in the midst of," exclaimed Captain +Trigger. "Even in the midst of changing shirts. Present my compliments +to him, Mr. Mott, and say that he needn't dress up on my account. I +am an old-fashioned sailor-man. It is nothing new to me to see men who +haven't shaved in a fortnight, and others who never change shirts." + +"Very well, sir," said Mr. Mott, and departed. + +Presently he reappeared with the stowaway in charge. + +Captain Trigger beheld a well set-up young man of medium height, with +freshly shaven chin and jaws, carefully brushed hair, spotless white +shirt and collar, and,--revealed in a quick glance,--recently scrubbed +hands. His brown Norfolk jacket was open, and he carried a brand new, +though somewhat shapeless pan-ama hat in his hand. Evidently he had +ceased fanning himself with it at the moment of entering the captain's +presence. The keen, good-looking face was warm and moist as the result +of a most violent soaping. He wore corduroy riding-breeches, cavalry +boots that betrayed their age in spite of a late polishing at the hands +of an energetic and carefully directed bootblack, and a broad leather +belt from which only half an eye was required to see that a holster had +been detached with a becoming regard for neatness. His hair was thick +and sun-bleached; his eyes, dark and unafraid, met the stern gaze of +the captain with directness and respect; his lips and chin were firm in +repose, but they might easily be the opposite if relaxed; his skin was +so tanned and wind-bitten that the whites of his eyes were startlingly +defined and vivid. He was not a tall man,--indeed, one would have been +justified in suspecting him of being taller than he really was because +of the more or less deceiving erectness with which he carried himself. +As a matter of fact, he was not more than five feet ten or ten and a +half. + +Captain Trigger eyed him narrowly for a moment. + +"What is your name?" + +"A. A. Percival, sir." + +"Your full name, young man. No initials." + +The stowaway seemed to add an inch to his height before replying. + +"Algernon Adonis Percival, sir," he said, a very clear note of defiance +in his voice. + +The Captain looked at the First Officer, and the First Officer, after a +brief stare at the speaker, looked at the Captain. + +"It's his right name, you can bet, sir," said Mr. Mott, with conviction. +"Nobody would voluntarily give himself a name like that." + +"You never can tell about these Americans, Mr. Mott," said the Captain +warily. "They've got what they call a keen sense of humour, you know." + +Mr. Percival smiled. His teeth were very white and even. + +"I am a first and only child," he explained. "That ought to account for +it, sir," he went on, a trifle defensively. + +Captain Trigger did not smile. Mr. Mott, however, looked distinctly +sympathetic. + +"You say you are an American,--a citizen of the United States?" demanded +the former. + +"Yes, sir. My home is in Baltimore." + +"Baltimore?" repeated Mr. Mott quickly. "That's where Mr. Gray hails +from, sir," he added, as a sort of apology to the Captain for the +exclamation. + +The Captain's gaze settled on the stowaway's spotless white shirt and +collar. Then he nodded his head slowly. + +"Mr. Gray is the Chief Engineer," he explained, with mock courtesy. + +"Yes, sir,--I know," responded Percival. "He comes of one of the oldest +and most highly connected families in Baltimore. He informs me that his +father--" + +"Never mind!" snapped the Captain. "We need not discuss Mr. Gray's +antecedents. How old are you?" + +"Thirty last Friday, sir." + +"Married?" + +"No, sir." + +"Parents living?" + +"No, sir." + +"And now, what the devil do you mean by sneaking aboard this ship and +hiding yourself in the--by the way, Mr. Mott, where was he hiding?" + +Mr. Mott: "It doesn't seem to be quite clear as yet, sir." + +Captain Trigger: "What's that?" + +Mr. Mott: "I say, it isn't quite clear. We have only his word for it. +You see, he wasn't discovered until he accosted Mr. Shannon on the +bridge and asked--" + +Captain Trigger: "On the bridge, Mr. Mott?" + +Mr. Mott: "That is to say, sir, Mr. Shannon was on the bridge and he was +below on the promenade deck. He asked Mr. Shannon if he was the Captain +of the boat." + +Captain Trigger: "He did, eh? Well?" + +Mr. Mott: "He was informed that you were at breakfast, sir,--no one +suspecting him of being a stowaway, of course,--and then, it appears, +he started out to look for you. That's how he fell in with the Chief +Engineer. Mr. Gray informs me that he applied for work, admitting that +he was aboard without leave, or passage, or funds, or anything else, +it would seem. But, as for where he lay in hiding, there hasn't been +anything definite arrived at as yet, sir. He seems to have been hiding +in a rather wide-spread sort of way." + +Mr. Percival, amiably: "Permit me to explain, Captain Trigger. You see, +I have been obliged to change staterooms three times. Naturally, that +might be expected to create some little confusion in my mind. I began +in the second cabin. Much to my surprise and chagrin I found, too late, +that the stateroom I had chosen,--at random, I may say,--was merely in +the state of being prepared for a lady and gentleman who had asked to be +transferred from a less desirable one. I had some difficulty in getting +out of it without attracting attention. I don't know what I should have +done if the steward hadn't informed them that he could not move their +steamer-trunk until morning. There wouldn't have been room for both of +us under the berth, sir. If the gentleman had been alone I shouldn't +have minded in the least remaining, under his berth, but he--" + +Captain Trigger: "How did you happen to get into that room, young man? +The doors are never unlocked when the rooms are unoccupied." + +Mr. Percival: "You are mistaken, sir. I found at least three stateroom +doors unlocked that night, and my search was by no means extensive." + +Captain Trigger: "This is most extraordinary, Mr. Mott,--if true." + +Mr. Mott: "It shall be looked into, sir." + +Captain Trigger: "Go on, young man." + +Mr. Percival: "I tried another room in the second cabin, but had +to abandon it also. It had no regular occupant,--it was Number 221 +remember,--but along about midnight two men opened the door with a key +and came in. They were stewards. I gathered that they were getting +the room ready for someone else, so when they departed,--very quietly, +sir,--I sneaked out and decided to try for accommodations in the first +cabin. I--" + +Mr. Mott: "Did you say stewards?" + +Mr. Percival: "That's what I took them to be." + +Captain Trigger: "You are either lying, young man, or plumb crazy." + +Mr. Percival, with dignity: "The latter is quite possible, Captain,--but +not the former. I managed quite easily to get from the second cabin to +the first. You'd be surprised to know how simple it was. Running without +lights as you do, sir, simplified things tremendously. I found a very +sick and dejected Jewish gentleman trying to die in the least exposed +corner of the promenade deck. At least, he said he didn't want to live. +I offered to put him to bed and to sit up with him all night if it would +make him feel a little less like passing away. He lurched at the chance. +I accompanied him to his stateroom, and so got a few much-needed +hours of repose, despite his groans. I also ate his breakfast for him. +Skirmishing around this morning, I found there were no unoccupied rooms +in the first cabin, so I decided that we were far enough from land for +me to reveal myself to the officer of the day,--if that's what you call +'em on board ship,--with a very honest and laudable desire to work my +passage home. I can only add, Captain, that I am ready and willing to do +anything from swabbing floors on the upper deck to passing coal at the +bottom of the ship." + +Captain Trigger stared hard at the young man, a puzzled expression in +his eyes. + +"You appear to be a gentleman," he said at last. "Why are you on board +this ship as a stowaway? Don't you know that I can put you in irons, +confine you to the brig, and put you ashore at the first port of call?" + +"Certainly, sir. That's just what I am trying to avoid. As a gentleman, +I am prepared to do everything in my power to relieve you of what must +seem a most painful official duty." + +Mr. Mott smiled. The Captain stiffened perceptibly. + +"How did you come aboard this ship?" he demanded. + +"As a coal passer, sir. Day before yesterday, when you were getting +in the last lot of coal. I had a single five dollar gold piece in my +pocket. It did the trick. With that seemingly insignificant remnant of +a comfortable little fortune, I induced one of the native coal +carriers,--a Portuguese nobleman, I shall always call him,--to part +with his trousers, shirt and hat. I slipped 'em on over my own clothes, +stuffed my boots and socks inside my shirt, picked up his basket of +coal, and walked aboard. It isn't necessary, I suppose, to state that my +career as a dock-hand ceased with that solitary basket of coal, or that +having once put foot aboard the Doraine, I was in a position to book +myself as a passenger." + +"Well, I'm damned!" said Captain Trigger. "Some one shall pay for this +carelessness, Mr. Mott. I've never heard of anything so cool. What did +you say your name is, young man?" + +"A. A. Percival, sir." + +"Ah--ahem! I see. Will it offend you, A. A., if I make so bold as to +inquire why the devil you neglected to book your passage in the regular +way, as any gentleman from Baltimore might have been expected to do, and +where is your passport, your certificate of health, your purse and your +discharge from prison?" + +Mr. Percival spread out his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + +"Would you be interested in my story, Captain Trigger? It is brief, but +edifying. When I arrived in town, the evening before you were to sail, +I had a wallet well-filled with gold, currency, and so forth. I had +travelled nearly two thousand miles,--from the foothills of the Andes, +to be more definite,--and I had my papers, my cancelled contract, and a +clear right-of-way, so to speak. My personal belongings were supposed to +have arrived in town on the train with me. A couple of cow-hide trunks, +in fact. Well, they didn't arrive. I don't know what became of them. I +had no time to investigate. This was the last boat I could get for +two or three weeks that would land me in the U. S. A. I put up at the +Alcazar Grand for the night. It was then too late to secure passage, but +I fully intended to do so the first thing in the morning. There was a +concert and dance at the hotel that night, and I went in to look on for +awhile. I ran across a friend, an engineer who was on the job with me +up in the hills a few months ago. He is also an American, a chap from +Providence, Rhode Island. Connected with the consular service now. He +was with a small party of Americans,--am I boring you?" + +"No, no,--get on with it," urged Captain Trigger. + +"Several of them were sailing on this ship, and they were having a +little farewell party. That, however, has nothing to do with the case. +I left them at midnight and went up to my room. Now comes the part you +will not believe. During the night,--I sleep very soundly,--some one +entered my room, rifled my pockets, and got away with everything I +possessed, except my clothes and the five-dollar gold piece I have +carried ever since I left home,--as a lucky coin, you know. He--" + +"How did he happen to overlook your lucky coin?" inquired the Captain +sarcastically. + +"Because it couldn't be a lucky coin if I carried it in my purse. No +coin is ever lucky that gets into my purse, Captain. I always kept it +tightly sewed up in the band of my trousers, safe from the influence of +evil companions. I did not discover the loss until morning. It was then +too late to do anything, as you were sailing at eight. My Providence +friend was not available. I knew no one else. But I was determined to +sail on the Doraine. That's the story, sir, in brief. I leave it to +you if I wasn't justified in doing the best I could under the +circumstances." + +Captain Trigger was not as fierce as he looked. He could not keep the +twinkle out of his eye. + +"We will see about that," he managed to say with commendable gruffness. +"Assuming that your story is true, why are you in such a tremendous +hurry to reach the United States? Skipping out for some reason, eh?" + +"Well," said the young man slowly, "you see, news is a long time getting +out into the wilderness where I've been located for a couple of years. +We knew, of course, that there was a war on, but we didn't know how it +was progressing. Down here in this part of the world we have a war every +two or three months, and we've got so used to having 'em over within a +week or two that we just naturally don't pay much attention to them. +We don't even care who wins. But a couple of months ago we got word +up there that the United States had finally got into it with everybody +under the sun, and that the Germans were bound to win if we didn't get +a couple of million men across in pretty short order. I am thirty years +old, Captain, strong and healthy, and I'm a good American. That's why +I want to get home. I've told you the truth about being robbed. I don't +mind losing the money,--only a couple of thousand pesos, you know,--but +if you chuck me off at the next port of call, Captain Trigger, I'll +curse you to my dying day. I'm willing to work, I'm willing to be put in +irons, I'm willing to get along on bread and water, but you've just got +to land me in the United States. You are an Englishman. I suppose you've +got relatives over in France fighting the Germans. Maybe you've had some +one killed who is dear to you." + +"My youngest son was killed in Flanders," said the Captain simply. + +"I am sorry, sir. Well, for every Englishman and every Frenchman who has +died over there, my country ought to supply some one to take his place. +I expect to be one of those men, Captain. I have no other excuse for +coming aboard your ship as a stowaway." + +The Captain still eyed him narrowly. + +"I believe you are honest, young man. If I am deceived in you I shall +never trust the eyes of another man as long as I live. Sit down, Mr. +Percival. I shall put you to work, never fear, but in the meantime I am +very much interested in what you were doing up in the hills. You will +oblige me by going as fully as possible into all the details. I shall +not pass judgment on you until I've heard all of your story." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Algernon Adonis Percival, civil and mining engineer, Cornell, had gone +through certain rather harsh stages of development in the mines of +Montana and later in the perilous districts of Northern Mexico. A year +or two prior to the breaking out of the great World War, he was sent +to South America to replace the general superintendent of a new +copper-mining enterprise in a remote section of the Andes, on +the Bolivian side of the mountains. Here he was in charge of the +heterogeneous horde of miners, labourers, structural workers and +assayists who were engaged in the development and extension of the vast +concession controlled by his company. + +His description of the camp or town in which this motley assemblage +dwelt from one year's end to the other, far from civilization, was +illuminating to the two sea-faring men. It must be confessed, however, +that a sound reluctance to swallow the tale without the proverbial grain +of salt caused them to watch closely for the slightest sign that might +reveal to them the always-to-be expected and seldom successful +duplicity so common in those harrowing days when all men were objects of +suspicion. From time to time they glanced inquiringly at each other, +but the stranger's story was so straightforward, so lacking in personal +exploitation, so free from unnecessary detail, that they were finally +convinced that he was all that he represented himself to be and that +they had nothing to fear from him. + +His long, hazardous journey by horse through the passes down into the +forests and jungles, out upon the endless, sparsely settled pampas, +and eventually into the remote village that witnessed the passing every +second day of a primitive and far from dependable railway train, was +presented with agreeable simplicity and conciseness. He passed briefly +over what might have been expanded into grave experiences, and at last +came, so to speak, to the gates of the city, unharmed, resolute and full +of the fire that knows no quenching. + +"By the way," observed the Captain, still wary, "has it occurred to you +we may be justified in suspecting that you deserted your post up +there in the hills, and that you have betrayed the confidence of your +employers?" Percival had completed what he evidently believed to be a +full and satisfactory account of himself. + +"I was in full charge up there, Captain Trigger. My contract had but a +month more to run. I appointed my own successor, and the company will +not be any the worse off for the change. My letter to headquarters, +announcing my decision not to renew the contract, went forward two weeks +before I left the camp. I merely anticipated the actual termination of +my contract by a month or so, and as I handed my resignation at once to +my own newly appointed superintendent, I submit that I acted in absolute +good faith. I may say that he accepted it without a word of protest, +sir. As a matter of fact, I told him in advance that I wouldn't appoint +him unless he agreed to accept my resignation." + +The Captain smiled at this ingenuous explanation. + +"I daresay I ought to put you under guard, Mr. Percival," he said. "My +duty is very plain. A stowaway is a stowaway, no matter how you look +at him. The regulations do not leave me any choice. Maritime justice +is rarely tempered by mercy. However, under the circumstances, I am +inclined to accept your word of honour that you will not violate your +parole if I refrain from putting you in irons. Have I your word of +honour that you will not leave this ship until I hand you over to the +proper authorities in the United States?" + +"You have, sir." + +"You are a very head-strong, ambitious young man. You will not jump +overboard and try to beat us into port under your own steam?" + +"You may trust me, sir, never to give up the ship." + +"And you will kill as many Germans as possible?" + +"Yes, sir," said A. A. Percival submissively. + +Captain Trigger arose and extended his hand. + +"I've never done anything like this before in all my years as ship's +master. You ought to be flogged and stowed away in the brig until you +show a properly subdued spirit, young man. I suppose you've heard of the +cat-o'-nine-tails?" + +"My reading up to the age of fifteen was confined almost exclusively to +the genteel histories of pirates, buccaneers and privateersmen, Captain +Trigger," announced A. A. Percival, taking the master's hand in a +firm grip. "I wonder if you know what a black-snake whip is, or a +cattle-adder? Well, they're both painful and convincing. As director of +morals in the camp I have just left behind me, it was my official duty +on frequent occasions to see to it that current offenders had from +fifteen to fifty applications of the black-snake in a public sort of +way. The black-snake, I may explain, could be wielded by a strong but +unskilled arm. It was different, however, with the cattle-adder. That +had to be handled by an expert, one who could stand off twenty paces, +more or less, and crack the long lash with such astonishing precision +that the tip end of it barely touched the back of the culprit, the +result being a nobby assortment of splotches that looked for all the +world like hives after the blood got back into them again. You see, +I was chief magistrate, executioner ex-officio, chief of police, jury +commissioner--in fact, an all-around potentate. Sort of Pooh-bah, you +know. For serious offences, such as wife beating, wife stealing, +or having more than one wife at a time, we were not so lenient. The +offender, on conviction, was strung up by the thumbs and used as a +target by amateurs who desired to become proficient in the use of the +cattle-adder. Murderers were attended to a trifle more expeditiously. +They were strung up by the neck." + +"Good God, man,--do you mean to say you hung men in that off-hand +fashion?" cried Captain Trigger, aghast. + +"Not without a fair trial, sir. No innocent man was ever hung. There was +no such thing as circumstantial evidence in that camp. The guilty man +was always taken red-handed. We had good laws and they were rigidly +enforced. There was no other way, sir. Short, sharp and decisive. It's +the best way. Men understand that sort of thing and honest men approve +of the method. You see, gentlemen, we had a hard lot of characters to +deal with. I wish to add, however, that before I had been up there six +months we had a singularly law-abiding and self-respecting camp. Crime +was not tolerated, not even by the men who had once been criminals. +If two men quarrelled, they were allowed to fight it out fairly and +squarely in any way they could agree upon. Knives, hatchets and all +other messy weapons were barred. It was either fists, pistols or rifles +at a fairly long range, and under the strictest rules. Duels were fought +according to Hoyle, and were witnessed by practically every one in camp. +You will perceive that Copperhead Camp was no place for a coward or a +bluffer or a bully. It takes a brave man to fight a duel with a chap who +may be only half as big as he is, but who can shoot like the devil. So +you see, Captain Trigger, the cat-o'-nine-tails has no terror for me." + +Mr. Mott regarded the young man with wide-open, somewhat incredulous +eyes. + +"You don't look like a fire-eating, swashbuckling party to me," he said. + +"I am the most peaceable chap you've ever seen, Mr. Mott. You needn't +be alarmed. I'm not going to bite a hole in the ship and scuttle her. +Moreover, I am a very meek and lowly individual on board this ship. +There's a lot of difference between being in supreme command with all +kinds of authority to bolster you up and being a rat in a trap as I am +now. Up in Copperhead Camp I was a nabob, here I'm a nobody. Up there I +was the absolute boss of five or six hundred men,--I won't say I could +boss the women,--and I made 'em all walk chalk without once losing +step. There were murderers and crooks, blacklegs and gunmen in my genial +aggregation, men whose true names we never knew, men who were wanted in +every part of the civilized world. The only place on earth, I suppose, +where they could feel reasonably at home was in that gosh-awful nowhere +that we called Copperhead Camp. You can't handle such men with mittens. +And there were good men there as well,--good, strong, righteous men. +They were the leaven that made the whole thing palatable. Without them I +could have had no authority. But I dare say I am boring you. The present +situation is the one we're interested in, not the lordly past of your +humble and, I trust, obedient servant." + +His smile was most engaging, but back of it the two seamen read +strength, decision, integrity. The gay, bantering, whilom attitude of +this unusual young man was not assumed. It was not a pose. He was not +a dare-devil, nor was he a care-free, unstable youth who had matured +abruptly in the exercise of power. On the contrary, he was,--and Captain +Trigger knew it,--the personification of confidence, an optimist to whom +victory and defeat are equally unavoidable and therefore to be reckoned +as one in the vast scheme of human endeavour; a fighter who merely rests +on his arms but never lays them down; a spirit that absorbs the bitters +and the sweets of life with equal relish. + +Captain Trigger was not slow in making up his mind. This clean-minded, +clean-bodied American with the confident though respectful smile, was a +chap after his own heart. + +"I hardly know what to do with you, Percival," he said, a scowl of +genuine perplexity in his eyes. "You are not an ordinary transgressor. +You are a gentleman. You have exercised an authority perhaps somewhat +similar to my own,--possibly in some respects your position up there was +even more autocratic, if I may use the term. I am not unconscious of all +this, and yet I have no choice other than that designated by law. The +regulations are unalterable. It is a matter of morale, pure and simple. +We are compelled to treat all stowaways alike. Of course, I shall not +subject you to the ordinary--shall we say methods of--" + +"Pardon me, Captain," broke in the young man, his smile no longer in +evidence; "I am asking no favours. I expect to be treated as an ordinary +stowaway. Set me to work at anything you like and I will make as good a +job of it as possible." + +"I was about to suggest that you serve as a sort of assistant to Mr. +Codge, the purser. I've no doubt he could find something for you to do +and--" + +"If that is your way of punishing me, Captain Trigger, of course there +is nothing for me to do but to submit." + +"Eh? I am sure you will not find Mr. Codge a hard taskmaster. He is +quite a good-natured man." + +"Extremely kind and considerate," hastily added Mr. Mott, reassuringly. + +"But I don't want to loaf my passage home," protested Percival. "I want +to be sentenced to the hardest sort of labour, if you don't mind. I +don't want to owe this steamship company a penny when I step ashore. It +is your duty, sir, as master of this ship, to put me on the meanest job +you've got." + +"My word!" exclaimed Captain Trigger. + +"I'm blessed!" said Mr. Mott. + +"Up where I've been running things and cock-walking like a foreman in a +shirt-waist factory, I made the rules and I enforced them. I want to say +to you that no favours were shown. If the Prince of Wales had drifted in +there, dead broke, and asked for something to eat, he would have got it, +but you bet your life he'd have had to work for it. A tramp's a tramp, +no matter how much purple he's been used to, and you can say the same +for a stowaway. What's the matter with me taking the place of one of +those deck-hands, or whatever you call 'em, you lost last night?" + +"What's that?" + +"Swabbers, maybe you call 'em. Men that mop up the decks after everybody +else has turned in." + +"What are you talking about?" demanded the Captain, sitting up very +straight. Percival stared at him in astonishment. + +"I thought you knew about it, of course. Good Lord, sir, don't you know +that a couple of your men jumped overboard last night,--or early this +morning, rather? Just as the ship was rounding that big headland--" + +"Good God, man, are you in earnest?" cried Mr. Mott, starting toward the +door. + +"I certainly am. I took them for deserters, of course,--not suicides, +because they didn't forget to put on life preservers before they jumped. +I haven't a doubt they were picked up, so there's no use worrying. A +minute or two after they went over,--from the bottom deck or whatever +you call it,--I heard a motor boat popping away like a gatling-gun not +far,--" + +But he was alone. Captain Trigger had dashed out of the cabin in the +wake of the First Officer. + +Algernon Adonis Percival stared blankly at the open door. + +"Good Lord, why all this excitement over a couple of bums?" he said, +addressing space. "If they were working for me, I'd thank the Lord to be +rid of 'em so cheaply. They--Hello!" + +The Second Officer popped into the room. + +"Come along with me," he snapped. "Lively, now. Just where and when did +you see a couple of men go overboard? Quietly, now. We don't want to +alarm the passengers." + +Within five minutes after Percival's disturbing report, the officers +of the Doraine, with set faces, were employed in a swift but silent +investigation. Before many more minutes had passed, at least a portion +of the stowaway's story had been verified. Two men were found to be +missing, although, strange to say, they had not been missed up to the +time that noses were counted. They were down on the ship's roster as +Norwegians, New York registry, and had come down with the Doraine on her +trip from the north. + +Percival repeated his story, but had little to add in the way of detail. +He had stolen on deck some time after midnight for a breath of air, +risking detection, and from the shelter of a secluded corner well aft +had heard the two men swabbing the deck below. Suddenly they ceased +work, and he prepared to creep back to a place of safety, concluding +that they were on their way to the upper deck. + +He went to the rail to listen. The two men were almost directly below +him, and he could see the upper portions of their figures as they leaned +far out over the rail, apparently looking into the swirling waters +below. Quite distinctly he heard one of them say, in English: "We got +to do it now or never." The other mumbled something he could not +distinguish. He was only mildly interested, not anticipating what was to +follow. For a few seconds he heard them scrambling and puffing and then +he saw them quite plainly on the rail, their figures bulky with what he +identified as life buoys, a faint light from somewhere falling directly +upon the grayish-white objects in which they were swathed. + +One of them uttered the word "Now!" and to his amazement they shot out, +as one man, into the black-ness below. There was a single splash. For a +moment or two he stood spell-bound. Then he heard some one running +along the deck below. Convinced that the incident had been witnessed by +others, he darted into the companion-way and made his way back to the +stateroom of the sick passenger. Through the lightless porthole he +listened for the terrifying shout, "Man overboard!" It did not come, +but his ear caught the staccato beat of a motor near by, striking +up abruptly out of the swish of rushing waters. In his ignorance, he +decided that it was a boat from the ship going to the rescue of the +daring deserters, and calmly waited for the engines of the mighty +Doraine to cease their rhythmic pulsing. He fell asleep. + +When he awoke, he concluded that he had dreamed the whole thing. This +conclusion was justified when he asked his wretched "bunkie" if he +had observed him leaving the room during the night. The answer was a +mournful negative, followed by the sufferer's more or less positive +declaration that he was staring wide awake the whole damned night long. + +Percival, unconvinced, boldly made his way to the lower deck and +discovered that two life buoys were missing from their supports, a +circumstance that put an end to the hope that he had dreamed it all. His +own affairs however now loomed large, taking precedence over the plight +of the men who had deliberately abandoned the ship. In any case, the +ship's officers had done everything that could be done in the matter. +He was genuinely astonished to learn that the act of the two men was +unknown to the Captain. + +A hurried conference of the ship's officers and the commander of the +gun-crew resulted in a single but definite conclusion. The desperate, +even suicidal manner in which the men left the ship signified but one +thing: the absolute necessity of flight before an even more sinister +peril confronted them. Not a man on board doubted for an instant that +they had taken their chance in the waters as a part of a preconceived +plan, and they had taken it with all the devilish hardihood of fanatics. + +The presence of the motor craft, so far out from port, lurking +with silent engine in the path of the steamship, could have but one +significance. It represented one of the carefully thought-out details in +a stupendous, far-reaching plot. + +If there were signals between the motor boat and the two men aboard the +steamship, they were not observed by the lookouts. In all probability no +signals were given. The little craft was to be at a certain place at a +certain hour,--and she was there! The men who jumped knew that she would +be there. A black, tiny speck on the broad expanse of water, sheltered +by a night of almost stygian darkness, she lay outside the narrow radius +to which visual observation was confined, patiently waiting for the +Doraine to pass a designated point. There was to be no miscalculation on +the part of either the boat or the men who went over the side of the big +steamship into the seething waters. + +The closest inquiry among the members of the crew failed to reveal +any one who had witnessed the leap of the men. Percival was positive, +however, that some one ran along the lower deck, but whether toward or +away from the spot where the men went over he had no means of knowing. +He offered the suggestion that there were three persons actually +involved, and that one of them, more than likely the victim of a +coin-flipping decision, had remained on board to complete the work the +trio had been chosen to perform, even though death was to be his lot. + +The Second Officer had been regarding Percival with ever-growing +suspicion. + +"Is there anything to prove, young man, that you are not the one who +stayed behind to complete the job?" he demanded at last. + +"Nothing," said Percival promptly, and somewhat scathingly, "nothing at +all, except the trifling fact that I am here talking it over with you +gentlemen instead of attending to my business, as any honest conspirator +should be doing. You may be quite sure of one thing: if there is a man +on board this ship whose business it is to finish the job, he isn't +idle. He's getting on with the job at this minute, gentlemen. If you'll +take my advice you will institute two investigations. First, search +the ship from stem to stern, from keel to bridge, for bombs or infernal +machines. Second, ask your rich passengers if they have lost anything in +the shape of pearls, diamonds, coin of the realm, or anything else worth +jumping into the ocean for." + +Captain Trigger looked at him over the top of his eye-glasses. + +"You are not in Copperhead Camp at present, Mr. Percival," he said +stiffly. + +The young man flushed. "I beg your pardon, Captain Trigger," he said +simply. + +"All you have to do," said the Second Officer, fixing him with an +inimical eye, "is to answer questions and not to tell us how to run this +ship." + +Percival did his best to hold back the retort, but, failing, released it +with considerable sharpness: + +"Well, if I was running this ship I'd head her for shore pretty damned +quick." + +The American in command of the gun-crew was the only one who smiled, and +he did it openly. Captain Trigger's face darkened redly. + +"Take this man in charge, Mr. Shannon. He wants work. Give it him. Under +guard." + +"Am I suspected, Captain Trigger, of being in league--" + +"Every man, every woman on board this ship is suspected," said the +Captain with decision. "Every one, sir, from myself down. The rest of us +grasp that fact, even if you do not." + +And so it was that while Algernon Adonis Percival, under the watchful +eye of a burly seaman, fell to work scraping the scuppers on the boat +deck, the stern business of searching the ship went forward with +a thoroughness that left no room for doubt as to the fears and +apprehensions of the men who had her in charge. Despite the fact that +intensive, anxious hours of delving revealed no hidden, sinister agent +of destruction, there was no relaxation on the part of the officers and +crew. One by one the passengers were examined; their rooms and their +luggage were systematically overhauled. No one resented these drastic +operations, for by midday the whole ship's company knew what had +transpired during the night. Eagerly they answered the questions, +cheerfully they submitted to the examination of their effects, and then +fell silent and subdued, oppressed by the suspense that hung over the +ship like a cloud. Crew and passengers alike underwent the most rigid +questioning, the high and the low, the rich and the poor, the young and +the old. + +Early that morning, in fact some time prior to the time that Percival +told his story, the wireless operator reported that his transmitter was +out of order. While he was satisfied that the apparatus had not been +tampered with, he was plainly affected by the rather grim coincidence. +He was an old and trusted man in the service, competent, efficient and +loyal. + +His assistant, the night operator, however, had made less than half a +dozen voyages on the Doraine. He was an Englishman, a cripple; twice +he had been rescued after vessels on which he sailed were sent to the +bottom by German submarines. His credentials were flawless. He was on +duty during the night just past, and had picked up several indistinct, +incomplete radio messages. There was nothing wrong with the receiving or +transmitting apparatus when he went off duty at six in the morning, and +as his superior came on at the same hour,--they exchanged greetings at +the door of the wireless house,--it was absolutely impossible for any +one to have entered the well-guarded room without attracting attention. +Cruise, the chief radio-man, had his assistant routed out of bed and +together they worked like beavers over the disabled mechanism. + +Hour after hour, the nervous, uneasy passengers paced the decks. Few +remained indoors, and few possessed the calmness to loll in deck-chairs. + +Percival toiled cheerfully, but with eye and ear alert for the first +inkling of definite peril. With commendable thoughtfulness, he had shed +the clean white shirt and collar so generously supplied by his fellow +townsman, and had donned a commodious sea-jacket. + +He could not help observing the dark, suspicious glances cast upon him +by the deck-walkers, nor were his ears proof against audible comments. +Mothers nudged their children and said, in slightly lowered but +distinctly impressive tones: + +"That's the man. He's a stowaway." + +"See, Wilfred,--see the man? No, no! The one with the mop, dear. Don't +go near him." + +"What a dreadful looking creature he is." + +"The Captain captured him this morning away down in the bottom of the +ship. He was stealing a ride." + +"Poor fellow! He doesn't look like a bad man, does he?" + +And so on and so forth, as the day went along. + +Masculine strollers had very decided opinions about him. Mr. Landover, +the banker, stopped to discuss the toiling menial with Mr. Nicklestick, +Mr. Block and Mr. Fitts. + +"He ought to be in irons," said Mr. Landover, glowering at Percival. +"That's what I told the Captain a little while ago. He's a bad egg, that +fellow is. I'm a pretty good judge of men, gentlemen, and I don't often +make mistakes. That fellow is a fugitive from justice, if he isn't +something worse. Observe the cut of his mouth--ah! see that? What did I +tell you? Did you ever see a more evil grin?" + +"Take it from me," said Mr. Nicklestick, "that guy knows a good deal +more about what is going on aboard this ship than he lets on. He ain't +as simple as he looks. I told Captain Trigger just now that he ought to +give him a dose of the third degree. That's the way to get to the bottom +of this business. String him up by the thumbs till he squeals. What say, +Mr. Fitts?" + +Mr. Fitts, the architect, was a mild man. + +"He strikes me as a rather honest looking sort of chap," he said, and +was promptly glared at by his companions. "Of course," he hastened to +add, "I am not saying that he is all right. He may be as crooked as the +deuce. I'm only saying he's got a rather pleasing sort of face." + +"The most innocent, open-faced young fellow we ever had in the bank," +said Mr. Landover, "turned out to be the damnedest rascal I've ever +encountered." + +"How did you happen to have him in the bank if you are such a good judge +of men?" inquired Mr. Fitts, utterly without malice. + +Mr. Landover reddened. "My dear sir, I do not come in contact with +every employe of the bank. You forget that it is quite an immense +institution." + +"It sure is," said Mr. Nicklestick. "I'm thinking of transferring our +account to your bank, Mr. Landover. We've been banking with--" + +"I vas telling my vife at lunch," broke in Mr. Block, twitching his +Hebraic nose emphatically,--"not that we could eat any lunch, by +gracious, no!--I vas telling her I bet my boots dere ain't enough +life-boats to get as much as half of us off safe in case something +happens. I counted up all the life-boats I could see, and ven I estimate +the number of peoples on board, w'y, by gracious, the loss of life +vould be frightful, gentlemen. The only chance we would haf would be +for approxi-madely fifty percent of the peoples on board to be killed +outright by the explosion." + +"I hear there is a detective from Chicago on board, with a prisoner," +ventured Mr. Fitts. "Why doesn't the Captain ask him to have a look at +this stowaway fellow?" + +"What would be the good of that?" demanded Mr. Landover. "I never saw a +detective in my life that knew what to do in an emergency. Soon as +you get one of them where he can't telephone in to headquarters +for instructions he's as helpless as a baby. Don't talk to me about +detectives. Why, this fellow would simply laugh in his face." + +"Just, as he is laughing in yours at this moment, Mr. Landover," pursued +Mr. Fitts pleasantly. + +"The damned rascal," said Mr. Landover, and stalked away. + +"There goes one of the biggest figures in the United States," said Mr. +Nicklestick, looking after the banker. His remark was addressed to Mr. +Fitts. "I wish I had his brains." + +"Dey vouldn't do you any good, Nicklestick," said Mr. Block, "unless you +had his money too also." + +"If I had his brains," said Mr. Nicklestick, "he wouldn't have his +money, so what's the difference?" + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Mr. Block looked uneasily out over the tumbling ocean, focusing his gaze +on a section of the horizon that for want of something more definite +than mere hope lay in a direct line with the City of New York. + +"And ven you stop to think," said he wistfully, "that we are still +something like six thousand miles from home,--oh, veil! Vat's the use? I +bet you I never go so far avay from my business again. Vat a fool I vas +to make this trip ven the whole ocean is full of submarines and German +agents and plotters and--Yes, vat a fool ven I had so many high-priced +men vorking for me who vas crazy to come. But my vife she vould do it. +Paris and London every year it used to be, so she must haf a little +holiday or she vill die, she say. Veil, here we are. And ven I think +vat a long holiday it is going to be maybe,--by gracious, I could kick +myself for not giving in to my brother-in-law ven he begged so hard to +be allowed to make the trip because he needed the change from not being +avay from the office for five years, and his vife and children too. His +vife she needed a change as much as he, vat with not being able to get +into any good hotels in the summer time and not being able to keep +out of them in the vinter time, she vas nearly distracted. No, I vas +selfish. My vife she vas selfish too,--and him her own brother. Vy +shouldn't he haf a vacation vonce in awhile?" + +He turned abruptly to the sailor who lounged near the perspiring +Percival. + +"How far is it to land, my frient?" he inquired. + +The sailor touched his cap. "Which way, sir?" he asked solemnly. "Fore +or aft?" + +(Percival said to himself: "By golly, I'll bet that man is an +American.") + +"Vat? Land,--you know vat I mean,--the end of the ocean. How far avay is +it?" + +The sailor calculated. "Well, the nearest land, sir, I should say, is +about three hundred miles away, to port." + +"How deep is it here?" asked Mr. Nicklestick, moving away from the rail +suddenly. + +The sailor glanced down at the water, squinted an eye, and then spoke +reassuringly. + +"It ain't half as deep here as it is a little furder on," he said. "It's +only a shade over three miles where we are now, sir. We're comin' to +the deepest part of the ocean,--ought to be there inside of a couple of +hours. Here, you! On the job, on the job!" + +"You ought to search that man carefully," advised Mr. Nicklestick. + +"I have," growled the sailor. "He says he never uses it in that form. I +guess he's tellin' the truth." + +"Never uses what?" + +"Tobacco, sir." + +"Oh!" said Mr. Nicklestick, and, catching a glimpse of Madame Obosky +emerging upon the deck, unceremoniously deserted his companions and +hurried off to join her, his speed being suddenly accelerated by the +spectacle of Mr. Shine, the motion picture magnate, who approached the +lady from an equidistant station and with similar haste. Mr. Block, +being a trifle near-sighted and in some doubt as to the whereabouts of +his wife, peered here and there intently, and then bore down upon the +celebrated Russian dancer, who, it would seem, was in dire need of +consolation. + +Mr. Fitts followed them with a glance over his glasses and then turned +to the sailor man. + +"I suppose it's against orders for me to speak to this man," he said. + +"Yes, sir." + +The architect sighed, and walked away. + +The parade became more interesting as the lack of news from the +investigators restored a sort of hopeful optimism to the breasts of the +anxious company. Those who had maintained a stubborn air of bravado, +now became almost offensively jaunty. Others, frankly terrified at the +outset, sauntered timidly away from the life-boats to which they were +assigned. Every one was glad that the Captain had ordered a life-boat +drill on the first afternoon out, and every one was glad that he had +ignored the demand of Mr. Landover that the boats be lowered the instant +he discovered that his passengers were in peril. No news was good news, +argued the majority, and jesting was in order. + +Peter Snipe, the novelist, got out a pad of paper and began jotting down +impressions. Madam Careni-Amori and Signor Joseppi exchanged the first +friendly words they had spoken to each other in weeks, and in full view +of an entranced audience linked arms and strode bravely to and fro, the +former clasping a huge jewel case to her ample bosom, the latter +chafing perceptibly under the weight of an invisible belt stuffed to its +capacity with banknotes and gold. Chilean ladies and Chilean gentlemen, +dazzling Brazilian ladies and pompous Brazilian gentlemen, smug +Argentinians, lordly Castilians, garrulous Portuguese, lofty English +gentlemen and supercilious English ladies, friendly and irrepressible +Americans,--all of them swinging their sea-legs with new-found +abandon--clattered solidly around the wind-swept circuit. New faces +appeared in the procession, new voices were raised with energy, new +figures sprang into existence with marvellous rapidity. It seemed to +Percival that the population doubled and tripled and quadrupled with +every throb of the powerful engines. He saw his "bunkie" of the night +before,--the man who was trying so hard to die and couldn't,--he saw him +plunging along with the throng, pale but valiant, ferociously glaring at +every one who smoked. + +A small group of American nurses, some young and pretty, others young +and homely, but all of them sprightly and clear-eyed,--nine of them, in +fact--tramped by in "columns of three." + +Percival's guardian jerked his head in their direction after they had +passed, and volunteered this bit of information: + +"Hornswoggled, them girls was. Come all the way down from New York +six months ago. Promised double pay and plenty of work in the American +colony. Sore as crabs, all of 'em. They got double pay all right, all +right, but there was some misunderstandin' as to what single pay was to +be to start off with. Single pay turned out to be just whatever suited +the people that employed 'em, seein's they were nearly seven thousand +miles away from God and up against it, so they're beatin' it back home +to volunteer for service in France. I heard one of 'em say she could +save more money workin' for nothin' in France than she could earn in +a year down here at double pay. What'd you say your name was, young +feller?" + +"Percival." + +"I mean your last name." + +"That's it." + +"Come off! Nobody ever had a last name like that." + +"You ought to hear what my first name is,--and my middle one, too. You +said a little while ago you'd never seen any one of my size with bigger +and harder muscles. Well, if you knew what my full name is, old man, +you'd understand why I began developing them,--I've got a lot more too +that you can't see,--when I first began going to school." + +"What is your other names?" inquired the sailor curiously. + +"Algernon Adonis," said Percival. + +The sailor was silent for a moment, thinking of the proper thing to say. +Then he said: + +"You're dead right. It takes a heap of muscle to pertect a name like +that." + +Three women stopped in front of the two men. Percival kept his eyes +lowered. + +"Why,--why, Auntie,--I know him," fell from the lips of one of the trio. +There was not only surprise in her voice but a trace of awe as well. + +The swabber looked up quickly. He found himself gazing straight into the +eyes of the speaker. Her lips were parted, her head was bent slightly +forward, her eyes expressed utter incredulity and bewilderment. Her +companion, an elderly lady, and a bespectacled young woman who carried +an arm-load of steamer-rugs, stared not at him but at the girl who had +delivered this startling announcement. + +"I mean I,--that is, I may be mistaken," stammered the latter, suddenly +averting her eyes. A wave of crimson swept over her face. + +"Undoubtedly," exclaimed the elderly lady with great positiveness. +Turning to inspect the object under discussion, she sustained a shock +that caused her to stiffen and draw in her breath quickly. + +Percival was smiling in a most friendly and encouraging manner. He went +farther, and lifted his disreputable white canvas hat. + +"Oh, goodness!" exclaimed the young lady in a sort of panic. "Are +you--is it really you, Mr. Percival?" + +Mr. Percival glanced inquiringly at his guard. + +"That's his name, Miss," said that worthy. "And that's one of the +three reasons why he's got them muscular arms you're lookin' at. Sorry, +though, but my orders are not to allow any one to speak to him." + +"Are you crazy, Ruth?" cried the older lady, aghast. "It's the stowaway +every one is talking about. The one who tried to blow up the ship." + +The young lady returned Percival's smile,--rather a diffident, uncertain +effort, to be sure, but still a smile,--and murmured something about +night before last at the Alcazar Grand. + +"What are you saying, Ruth? Do you mean to say you met this man at the +Alcazar Grand?" + +"Yes, Aunt Julia," said the other wrinkling her pretty forehead in +perplexity. "He--he danced with me." + +"He--you danced with him?" gasped the horrified Aunt Julia. + +"Don't you remember? Phil Morton introduced him to us. I--I can't +believe my eyes." + +"I can't believe mine," snapped the elder woman. "I never saw this +fellow before in my life. The idea! Phil Morton having a friend +like--You are mistaken. And people are staring at us." + +"Just the same," said her niece, stubbornly, "I did dance with him, and, +what's more, I danced more than once with him. Didn't I, Mr. Percival?" + +Mr. Percival, still beaming, again looked at the sailor appealingly. + +"You can tell it to me," said the latter, furtively glancing to the +right and left before making the concession. + +Looking straight into the sailor's eyes, Percival said: + +"Yes, Miss Clinton. I had four dances with you,--and a lemon squash." + +"Wait a moment, Aunt Julia," protested the young lady, holding back. +"Would you mind telling me, Mr. Percival, how you happen to be here and +in this plight? You didn't mention sailing on the Doraine." + +Mr. Percival, to the sailor: "Neither did you, Miss Clinton. You +certainly are no more surprised than I am." + +"Why are you on board as a stowaway? Phil Morton told me you belong to +an old Baltimore family and had all kinds of--that is, you were quite +well-off." + +Mr. Percival, to the sailor: "Please don't blush, Miss Clinton. I'm not +the least bit sensitive. Money isn't everything. I seem to be able +to get along without it. Later on, I hope to have the opportunity to +explain just why--" + +"That'll do," interrupted the sailor. "Here comes the Captain." + +Captain Trigger hove in sight around the corner of the deck building, +with Chief Engineer Gray and the Second Officer. + +"I don't know what to make of you," said Miss Clinton, sorely puzzled. +Her aunt was clutching her arm. "You seemed so awfully jolly the other +night. And--and just look at you now." + +She moved away, followed by the bespectacled young woman and the +steamer-rugs, graceful despite the sudden yank with which her aunt set +her in motion. Percival managed to keep an eye on her till she turned +the corner. Then he sighed. + +The Captain halted in front of him. + +"Are you acquainted with Mrs. Spofford and her niece, Percival?" he +inquired. + +"Miss Clinton has done me the honour to remember meeting me night before +last at the Alcazar Grand, sir. Mrs. Spofford is not so generous." + +"I see," said Captain Trigger reflectively. "You will report at once to +Mr. Gray. He will give you a less public job, as you call it." A twinkle +came into his eyes. "He doesn't like the hat you're wearing. Nor the +shirt. Nor the boots." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And, by the way, Percival, as soon as you are slightly refurbished I +want you to stroll through the second cabin and if possible identify the +two stewards who came to No. 22. Let me see, was it during the day or at +night?" + +"Some time during the night, sir. Eleven or half-past, I should say." + +"Very well." + +An hour later he reported to Captain Trigger. "I have seen all of the +stewards, sir, according to Mr. Codge, and I do not recognize any of +them as the men who came to No. 22. I had a fairly good view of them, +too, from beneath the lower berth. They spoke in a language I did not +understand--" + +"Do you understand German?" + +"No, sir. I know it when I hear it, however. They were not speaking +German. I may have been wrong, but I came to the conclusion that they +were transferring some one to No. 22. They brought in two suitcases, and +left them when they went out. I--" + +Captain Trigger brought his clenched fist down on the table with a +resounding, emphatic bang. + +"Now, we have it! That Chicago detective is right, by gad!" + +He turned to the small group of officers clustered behind him. Fresh +alarm,--real consternation,--had leaped into the eyes of every man of +them. + +"Then--then, that means our search isn't over?" cried Mr. Mott, starting +up. + +"It does! Every inch of this ship,--every damned inch of it, from stem +to stern. Overlook nothing, Mr. Mott. Don't delay a second." + +Percival was alone with the agitated Captain an instant later. Trigger's +eyes were rather wild and bloodshot. The younger man's face blanched. He +knew now that the danger was real. He waited for the Captain to speak. + +"Percival, the two men you saw in 22 were not stewards. They were the +men who jumped overboard. You tell me they left two bags there when they +went out of the room. Well, they were not there this morning when the +regular steward went into the room. They have disappeared. But the +contents of those bags are still somewhere on board this ship. And if +they are not found in time, by gad, sir, we will all be in Kingdom Come +before we know it." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The first explosion occurred at eleven minutes past six. The chart-house +and part of the bridge were blown to pieces. Three dull, splintering +crashes ensued in rapid succession, proving beyond question that the +bombs were set to automatically explode at a given time. One of them +wrecked the engine-room; another blew a great hole in the stern of the +ship, above the water line; the third destroyed the wireless house and +carried away a portion of the deck with it. + +There were eight in all of these devilish machines in the heart of the +Doraine. Some time prior to the first explosion, the feverish searchers +had uncovered four of them, cunningly planted in the most vital parts +of the ship. Two were taken from the lower hold, one at each end of the +vessel, and two more were found close to the carefully protected section +of the vessel in which a rather insignificant but deadly shipment of +high explosives was stored. + +The discovery of the four bombs and their immediate consignment to the +sea saved the ship from being blown to bits. With another hour to spare, +it is more than probable the remaining four would have been found, +notwithstanding the amazing cleverness with which they were hidden, so +thorough and so dogged was the search. Confusion, terror, stupefaction +and finally panic followed the successive blasts. The decks were strewn +with people prostrated by the violent upheavals, and many there were who +never got up again. Stunned, dazed, bewildered, those who were able to +do so scrambled to their feet only to be hurled down again and again. +Shrieks, groans, prayers,--and curses,--filled the brief, ghastly +silences between the muffled detonations. The great vessel surged and +rolled and plunged like a tortured animal. + +The splintering of wood, the rending of plates, the shattering of glass, +and above all this horrid turmoil the mighty roaring and hissing of +steam!... And the wild, gurgling cries of the frantic unfortunates who +had leaped into the sea! + +Out of the chaos with incredible swiftness came the paralysis of +despair, and out of that slowly but surely groped the never-failing +courage of the men who go down to the sea in ships. Hoarse commands +lifted above the groans and prayers, and strong but shaken figures +sprang with mechanical precision to the posts allotted them. Life-boat +after life-boat went down into the sea that glistened with the slanting +rays of an untroubled sun, low-lying at the end of day. + +Fire broke out in several places. Down into the bowels of the ship +plunged the resolute, undaunted heroes who remained behind, the chosen +complement reserved for just such an emergency by the far-seeing master. + +Above the hissing of steam and the first feeble cracklings of flame, +rose the stentorian voice of the Captain from his post at the base of +the demolished bridge. + +"Fight, men! Fight! Fight! There are dying men below! Stand by! Fight +for them!" + +He was bloody and almost unrecognizable as he stood there clutching a +stanchion for support. His legs were rigid, his body swayed, but his +spirit was as staunch as the star that had guided him for fifty years +through the trackless waste. + +And while these doughty, desperate spirits fought the fire and smoke +with every means at their command, down in the suffocating depths of the +ship, braving not only the peril visible and at hand, but the prospect +of annihilation in the event that a belated bomb projected its hideous +force into the nest of high explosives,--while these men fought, the +smiling, placid sea was alive with small white craft that bobbed in the +gleaming sunlight, life-boats crowded to the gunwales with shuddering, +bleak-eyed men, women and children waiting to pick up those who stayed +behind, and who inevitably would be driven overboard by the resistless, +conquering flames. + +Cruising about at a safe distance from the menacing hull, these boats +managed to rescue a few of the beings who had leaped overboard in the +first mad panic of fear, but many there were who went down never to be +seen again. No boat was without its wounded--and its dead; no boat was +without its stricken, anxious-eyed survivors who watched and prayed +for the salvation of loved ones left behind. With straining eyes they +searched the surface of the sea, peered at the occupants of near and +distant boats, stared at the scurrying figures on the decks of the +smoking steamer, hoping,--always hoping,--and always sobbing out the +endless prayer. + +At last, as the sun sank below the blue-black horizon, exhausted, +red-eyed, gasping men struggled up from the drenched, smothering +interior of the ship, and hurled themselves, not into the sea, but +prone upon the decks! They had conquered! The scattered, vagrant fires, +attacked in their infancy, while still in the creeping stage, had been +subdued. + +Darkness fell. A chill night air stole out of the east, stealthily +trailing the sun. Will-o'-the-wisp lights bespecked the sea, surrounding +the black hulk that lay motionless in the center of the circle. Lanterns +in a score or more of small boats bobbed fitfully in the gentle swell. +Presently lights appeared on board the Doraine, one here, one there, +then others in twos and threes,--some of them stationary, others moving +slowly from place to place. The life-boats crept closer, still closer. +Then, out from the silent hulk, came the voice of man. It was the +voice of the First Officer, hoarse and unrecognizable, but sharp with +authority. Other voices repeated the commands from various parts of the +ship,--commands to the encircling will-o'-the-wisps. + +The word came down to the scores who filled the boats that they were to +lie by until sunrise, keeping in close contact with each other and at no +great distance from the ship. The most thorough, careful examination of +the steamer was in progress. If it was found that she was in no danger +of foundering,--and the word was most reassuring,--all of them would +be taken aboard in the morning. Nothing could be done at present. A few +hours more would tell the tale. + +And then, for the first time since the disaster, the note of the croaker +was heard. Each and every boat contained at least one individual who +knew exactly what ought to be done in a crisis like this. + +Mr. Landover addressed the benumbed, unresisting occupants of the boat +into which he had climbed with commendable reluctance as one of the last +persons to leave the ship. + +"Why don't they begin sending out S. O. S. calls? What's the wireless +for, if not to be used at a time like this? Say, you! Yell up there to +some of those damned muddled-headed idiots and tell them what to do. +Tell them that I say for them to send out calls for help. What's that? +What did you say?" + +The steward in charge of the boat repeated his remark and Mr. Landover +at once said he would report him to Captain Trigger. + +"But it won't do any good," complained the banker despairingly. "Captain +Trigger hasn't got the backbone of a fishworm. He'd let you tell him to +go to hell and never think of jacking you up for it. No wonder we're +in the fix we're in now. If he'd had the sense of a jelly-fish he'd +have--Here! Sit still! You'll upset the boat, you fool! What--What are +you going to do with that oar?" + +"I'm going to crack you over the bean with it if you don't take back +what you said about Captain Trigger," said the steward, very earnestly. +"Take it back, do you hear me?" + +"My God, would you murder me for a little thing like that?" + +Mr. Nicklestick aroused himself from the torpor of despair. + +"Take it back, Mr. Landover,--please do. If he misses you, he'll get me +sure, it's so dark, and so help me God, I got nothing but the deepest +respect for Captain Trigger. He's a vonderful man, steward. Don't make +any mistake. You hear me say he is a vonderful man? Veil,--" + +"Oh, shut up, Nicklestick," grated Landover, crouching down behind the +gentleman addressed. + +The steward sat down. "I'd do it in a minute if it wasn't for the women +an' children in this boat." + +"I intend to have every officer on that steamer arrested for criminal +negligence the instant I set foot in New York," boomed the banker. "I +call upon every one of you, my fellow-passengers, to testify to the +utter lack of precaution taken by the men in charge of that ship. And +what effort are they making to bring help to us now? By gad, if I was +in command of that vessel I'd be shooting wireless calls to every--Great +Scott! What's that?" + +"That's a rocket, you blamed old fool!" roared the steward. + +"Good God!" gasped the exasperated banker. "Are we having a celebration +with fireworks?" + +The dull, hapless occupants of the lifeboats watched with fascinated +eyes the first of the giant rockets that whizzed and roared its way up +from the deck of the ship, an endless arrow of fire piercing the night. +A loud report, the scattering of a hundred stars, and then--denser +blackness than before. + +Morning came. Up out of the east stole a sickly grey. It turned slowly +into pink, and then suddenly the sea once more was blue and smiling. +In the heart of the dancing cordon lay the weirdly camouflaged Doraine, +inert, sinister, as still and cold as death. No smoke issued from her +stacks to cheer the wretched watchers; no foam, no spray leaped from her +mighty bow. She was a great, lifeless thing. Waves lapped gently against +her sides and fell away only to come back again in playful scorn for the +vast object that had rent and baffled them so long. On high fluttered +the Stars and Stripes, gay in the presence of death, a sprightly +harbinger of hope flaunting defiance in the face of despair. + +Men, stripped to the waist, grimy and shining with the sweat of hours, +moving about in knots of three and four--always in knots of three or +four as if afraid to disintegrate--leaned upon the rail and watched the +approach of the crowded boats, looked down into pallid, anguished faces +with their eager, hungry eyes, eyes that devoured the groups along the +rail. Now and then a glad shout of joy went up from one of the boats, +and a figure in the huddled mass was transformed into a responsive thing +of life. + +In each of the square, black openings in the hull of the ship stood +men with ropes and ladders. The great steel doors lay flat against the +sides, swung wide to admit this time a human cargo. From the interior of +the vessel came the brisk, incessant clatter of hammers against wood and +steel; from the decks broke the loud, commanding voices of men calling +out directions; from the gliding, slapping boats went up the hearty +shouts of understanding and obedience, the rattling of boat-hooks, the +grinding of oars in the locks, the murmur of voices revived. + +"Vomen and children first!" was the shrill, oft-repeated exhortation +from one of the boats. + +And up in the centre of another sprang a fine, imposing figure, from +whose lips rolled these thrilling words: + +"By God, they're great! They're great, after all! God bless Captain +Trigger and every man-jack of them!" + +"Get down!" roared his still unpacified critic, the steward. "You'll +fall overboard, you dam' fool!" + +The gaunt, coatless Mr. Mott commanded the port side of the vessel; +Mr. Codge, the purser, the starboard. Fighting men in the breeches and +leggings of the American Navy; blackened and bandaged stokers, sailors +and landsmen comprised the motley company that stood ready to drag the +occupants of the boats up into the dank, smoke-scented maw of the ship. + +One by one, in regular, systematic order, the lifeboats came alongside. +There was no confusion, no bungling. They bumped gently against the +towering rows of plates, and, made fast by ropes with ample play, +gave up in time their precious cargoes. No one lifted up his voice in +rejoicing, for there were dead and injured back in the shadows; there +were grief-stricken, anxious men and women crouching out there in the +sunshine; there were limp, unconscious women and half-dead children; and +over all still hung the ominous cloud of catastrophe fat with prophecies +of perils yet to come. + +They had gone out from a ship filled with a monstrous clangour and +confusion, they were returning to a tomblike hulk, a lonely mass in +which echoes would abound, a thing of sighs and silences, the corpse of +a mammoth that had throbbed yesterday,--but never more. + +Up in the curving triangle of the forward deck were two long, +canvas-covered rows. The dead! Forty-six twisted, silent forms lying +side by side, some calm in death, others charred and mutilated beyond +all possibility of identification. Every man in the engine-room at +the time of the explosion was now a mangled, unrecognizable thing. +Engineers, electricians, stokers,--all of them wiped out in the flash of +an eye,--burnt, boiled, shattered. Half a dozen women, as many children, +lay with the silent men. + +The injured had been placed in staterooms on the promenade deck, +regardless of previous occupancy or subsequent claim. There lay the +score and a half of seriously injured, and there toiled the ship's +surgeon and his volunteer helpers. Sailor and merchant, worker and +idler, scholar and dolt, steerage and first cabin, wealth and poverty, +shared alike in the disposition of quarters and shared alike in +attention. There was no discrimination. One life was as good as another +to the doctor and his men, the poor man's moan as full of suffering as +that of the rich man, the wail of the steerage woman as piteous as that +of her sister above. + +Captain Trigger was one of the injured. He swore a great deal when the +doctor ordered him to bed. Ribs and a broken arm? Why the devil should +he be put to bed for something a schoolboy would laugh at? Mr. Shannon +and two of the younger officers were killed by the explosion that +wrecked the bridge and chart house. Chief Engineer Gray died in the +engine-room. Cruise was blown to pieces in the wireless house. His +assistant, the cripple with the charmed life, was dead. + +A few seconds before the first explosion took place he blew out his +brains with a big navy revolver. The last seen of Cruise was when he +appeared in the door of his station, an expression of mingled rage and +alarm on his face. Pointing frantically at the figure of his assistant +as it shot down the steps and across the deck, he shouted: + +"Get that man! Get him! For God's sake, get him!" + +It all happened in a few seconds of time. The shrill laugh of +the fleeing assistant, the report of the revolver, an instant of +stupefaction,--and then the dull, grinding crash. + +It will never be known what Cruise had heard or seen in the last moments +of his life. No one on board the Doraine, however, doubted for an +instant that he had discovered, too late, the truth about his misshapen +assistant. They now knew with almost absolute certainty the identity of +the odd man in that devilish trio, the man whose footsteps Percival had +heard, the man who stayed behind to guarantee the consummation of the +hideous plot. Coward in the end, he shirked the death he was pledged to +accept. He knew what was coming. Unlike his braver comrades, he took the +simplest way. + +The count began. Late in the afternoon it was completed. There were +forty-six known dead on board the Doraine, the majority being members +of the crew. Seventeen persons were missing, chiefly from the steerage. +Twenty-nine seriously injured were under the doctor's care. Some of +them would not recover. A hundred or more persons suffered from shock, +bruises, cuts and exposure, but only a few of them required or demanded +attention. In spite of their injuries, they fell to with the spirit that +makes for true heroism and devoted themselves to the care of the less +fortunate, or to the assistance of the sorely-tried officers and men who +strove to bring order out of chaos. + +Among the survivors were two American surgeons and a physician from Rio +Janeiro. They, with the nurses, all of whom had been saved, immediately +went to the relief of the ship's doctor, and in short order an +improvised hospital was established. There was a remarkable unanimity +of self-sacrifice among the passengers. High and low, they fell to in +a frenzy of comradeship, and worked side by side in whatsoever capacity +they were needed, whether fitted for it or not. No man, no woman, +who was able to lift a helping hand, failed in this hour of need. The +bereaved, as well as those who were untouched by a personal grief, gave +all that was in them, tearfully, grimly, ardently. + +Menial labour fell to the lot of the lordly but uncomplaining Landover, +to Block and Nicklestick, Jones and Snipe, and even to the precious +Signor Joseppi, who, forgetting his Caruso-like throat, toiled and +sweated in the smoky saloon. + +Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate, the while he laboured amidst +the wreckage of the after deck, lamented not the cheerless task but the +evil fate that prevented the making of the most spectacular film the +world had ever known. + +Madame Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky and her dancers; bejewelled Jewesses +and half-clad emigrants; gentle women unused to toil and women who were +born to it; the old and the young--all of them, without exception,--rose +from the depths of despair and faced the rigours of the day with +unflinching courage, gave out of a limitless store of tenderness all +that their strength could spare. + +And through a neglected, abandoned field of pearls and gold and precious +stones, limped unchallenged the tireless figure of "Soapy" Shay, +diamond thief, a bloody bandage about his head, an exalted light in +his pain-stricken eyes. His one-time captor lay stark and cold in the +gruesome line in the bow of the boat. It was "Soapy" Shay who staggered +out of the rack and smoke with the burly, stricken detective in his +arms, and it was "Soapy" Shay who wept when the last breath of life +cased out through his tortured lips. For of all the company on board the +Doraine, there was but one whom "Soapy" knew, but one who called him by +name and shared tobacco with him,--and that one was William Spinney, the +man who was taking him back to a place where mercy would not be shown. + +After the sun had set and the decks were dark and deserted except for +the men employed in the gruesome business, the dead were lowered into +the sea, swathed in canvas and weighted with things that were made to +kill,--shells from the gunners' hoard. Swiftly, methodically, one after +the other, they slid down to the black, greedy waters, sank to the +grave that is never still yet always silent, to the vast, unexplored +wilderness that stretches around the world. The thin little missionary +from the barren plateaus of Patagonia and the plump priest from the +heart of Buenos Aires monotonously commended each and every one of them +to the mercy of God! + +The sun came up again in the morning over a smiling, happy sea that +licked the sides of the Doraine with the tenderness of a dog. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +The plight of the hapless steamer could not be disguised. Even the most +ignorant passenger knew that the wrecked engines could not be repaired +or compounded. They knew that the Doraine was completely paralysed. The +power to move at will was for ever lost, the force that had driven her +resistlessly along the chosen path was still. The powerful propellers +were idle, the huge stern-post wrenched so badly that the rudder was +useless. She was adrift, helplessly adrift. Of what avail the wheel +and a patched-up rudder to the mass that lay inert, motionless on the +smiling sea? + +Every one on board realized, with sinking heart, that the Doraine was to +go on drifting, drifting no man knew whither, until she crossed the +path of a friendly stranger out there in the mighty waste. No cry +of distress, no call for help could go crackling into the boundless +reaches. That was the plight of the Doraine and her people on the +mocking day that followed the disaster, and unless fate intervened that +would be her plight for days without end. + +Mr. Mott, temporarily in command, addressed the passengers in the main +saloon, where they had congregated at his request. He did not mince +matters. He stated the situation plainly. It was best that they should +realize, that they should understand, that they should know the truth, +in order that they might adapt themselves to the conditions he was now +compelled of necessity to impose upon them. They were, so to speak, +occupying a derelict. Help might come before nightfall, it might not +come for days. He hoped for the best but he intended to prepare for the +worst. + +Without apology he laid down a rigid set of rules, and from these rules, +he made it perfectly clear, there could be no deviation. The available +supply of food was limited. It was his purpose to conserve it with the +greatest possible care. Down in the holds, of course, was a vast store +of consigned foodstuffs, but he had no authority to draw upon it and +would not do so unless the ship's own stock was exhausted. Passengers +and crew, therefore, would be obliged to go on short rations. "Better +to eat sparingly now," he said, "than not to eat at all later on." He +concluded his remarks in this fashion: + +"Remember that we are all in the same boat. We don't know how long we'll +be drifting like this and we don't know where we're drifting to. It's an +everlastingly big ocean we're on. We ought to thank God we're not at the +bottom of it now. If we're lucky we'll be picked up soon, if not,--well, +it's up to us, every one of us, to make the best of it. We're alive, +and that's certainly something. We'll all find it easier if we keep +ourselves busy. That's why I'm asking you, one and all, to do a good +day's work regularly, one way or another, from now until relief comes. +We can't have any loafers or quitters on board this ship. That means +everybody, rich and poor. You may think I'm putting a hardship on you, +seeing as how you have paid for your passage and all that, but what I'm +ordering you to do ain't a marker to what you'd be doing if you were out +there in lifeboats, eight hundred miles from shore, and--well, we won't +go into that. We've got to make the best of it, my friends. We're up +against it good and plenty, that's the plain facts of the case. There's +no use in me saying it's all going to turn out right in a day or so, +because I don't know a da--- blamed thing about it. We're in God's +hands. Maybe it will help to pray, but I doubt it. All I've got to say +is this: go down on your knees as much as you like, but don't lick!" + +Signor Joseppi lifted his voice, but not in song. In very bad English he +wanted to know how long the Captain thought it would be before they were +rescued, and when he was informed that it might not be for weeks or even +months, he cried out in worse English that he was ruined. He would have +to violate his contract! No impressario would think of engaging him +again! His wonderful American tour! If he was not rescued within a +week--Oh, my God, the consequences! He did not regret the paltry two +thousand a week--for thirty weeks--but to violate a contract! + +Mr. Mott looked rather helpless. He appreciated the fact that Signor +Joseppi was a very great personage, but what was he saying? Was +it--could it be mutiny? + +"I'm sorry, Mr. Joseppi," he broke in, "but if Madame Amori is willing +to take her regular turn at making up berths, I guess it won't hurt you +to help every now and then in the dining-room." + +Signor Joseppi did not understand a word of it. He turned to the man at +his elbow for enlightenment. + +"What did he say?" he whispered. + +"He says you have a perfectly marvellous voice and that he'd give two +thousand any time to hear you sing," replied his neighbour in excellent +Italian. + +Whereupon the Signor favoured the severe-looking Mr. Mott with a beaming +smile and as deep a bow as he could make in such close quarters. + +"A most courteous officer," he said to his neighbour. "It will be a joy +to serve him, my friend. We should, one and all, do what he asks of us, +no matter how mean the task. I, Joseppi,--you have heard of Joseppi, my +friend?--I shall be the example for all of you. Should he say, 'Wash +the dishes, Joseppi,' then will I wash the dishes. I, Joseppi, who never +washed a dish in his life. Should he say, 'Cook the meals, Joseppi,' +then will Joseppi, who never cooked a thing in his life, then will +Joseppi cook the meals. Should he say, 'Joseppi, scrub the floor,' then +will I scrub the floor. Should he say, 'Signor, steer the ship,' then +will I do my best to steer the ship. I who have never steered a ship. So +let me be your example, my friend." + +"That's fine," said his neighbour, as they moved off together. "But +supposing he asks you to sing occasionally to amuse the rest of +us,--what then?" + +"Amuse?" cried the Signor. "Amuse?" + +"Well, then, entertain." + +The great Joseppi pursed his lips. His brows grew dark with trouble. + +"Ah, but that would be violating my contract," he said. "My contract +specifically states that under no circumstances may I--" Then suddenly, +as if renouncing a sacred principle, his brow cleared, and he cried out: +"Damn the contract! Joseppi's voice is his own. Joseppi will do as he +pleases with it. Let him but make the request, my friend,--and Joseppi +will sing till he drops from exhaustion." Lowering his voice to a +confidential undertone, he went on: "And that, my friend, is more than +you will find Careni-Amori willing to do. There is one cold-blooded, +grasping woman for you. Money! She thinks of nothing but money. And +flattery! Ah, how she thrives on flattery. That woman, my friend, +beautiful as she is, has no more heart than a--" + +"Excuse me, please," broke in his listener, in English. "I've got to +beat it." + +He had caught sight of a slim young figure at the head of the stairs,--a +girl in a rumpled blue serge tailor-suit and a tan-coloured sport hat +pulled well down over her dark hair. He made his way through the crowd +and caught her up as she passed out on the deck. + +"I've been terribly worried about you," he began without other greeting, +planting himself in front of her. "I thought maybe you might have--but, +thank the good Lord, you weren't." + +She looked momentarily bewildered. Then she recognized him and held out +her hand. Her face was serious, unsmiling, her voice low and tired. + +"Isn't it dreadful, Mr. Percival? What a terrible experience it has +been. Oh--and I am glad you came through safely, too. But--" as her eyes +narrowed anxiously,-"you were hurt. Your hands?" + +"I can't very well shake hands with you, Miss Clinton," said he. +"Scorched a little, that's all. You'd think it was serious, the way +they're bandaged. One of the sailors fixed them up for me last night. I +can't tell you how glad I am that you are all right. And your aunt? Is +she--" He paused. + +"Auntie is all right, Mr. Percival. She's in bed. Shock and exposure. We +were out there all night. In one of the boats. Katherine,--" her voice +shook a little,--"Katherine is gone. She leaped overboard. I--I saw her +go. I shall never forget it,--never. Aunt Julia's maid. For, oh, so +many years, Mr. Percival." She spoke in sharp, broken sentences, as if +breathless. "You must have been terribly burned. Your hair,--your eyes, +how bloodshot they are." + +"Smoke," he said succinctly. "Singed on this side only. Really nothing +serious. I got off very lightly." + +"Some of the men were frightfully burned," she said with a shudder. "I +am trying to be a nurse. There are two men in my--in my--" + +"I know," he broke in hastily. "Don't talk about it, Miss Clinton. It's +corking of you to take hold like this. Corking!" + +"Tell me about yourself. Where were you when it happened?"' + +"I hate to admit it, but I was having a bite to eat down in the galley. +You see, they'd somehow forgotten to give me anything to eat,--in the +excitement, of course,--and I had been so busy myself it didn't occur +to me to be hungry till rather late in the day. I managed to get on +deck but not until after the bombs had all gone off. My friend, Mr. +Gray,--the Chief Engineer, you know,--was down in the engine-room. +That's how I got my hands burned. Not badly, I assure you, but--well, +they may be a little scarred. You may not know it, but Mr. Gray and I +came from the same place. Baltimore. He belonged to a fine old family +there--and he'd been very kind to me. Poor fellow! Penned in. They never +had a chance down there. He was--well, he died a few minutes after he +was dragged out here on the deck. His clothes were on fire. But let's +not talk about it. Tell me, is there anything I can do to make you more +comfort-able? Or your aunt? I'm what you might call officer of the deck +at present. Mr. Mott--" + +"You ought to be in bed, Mr. Percival," she interrupted sharply. "Your +face is burned, too,--you must be suffering terribly. Wait! Now don't +tell me you are not. I know better. I've seen those other men who were +burned. I--" + +"It's nothing, I tell you," he interrupted, almost roughly. "There are +dozens of men worse off than I am, and are they in bed? Not much. This +is no time to lie down, Miss Clinton, if you've got a leg to stand on. +See that little chap over there with his head and hands covered with +bandages,--and barely able to drag his feet after him? He's an American +jockey. I don't know his name. He was blown twenty or thirty feet +across the after-deck. Brought up at the bottom of a companion-way. He's +nothing but cuts and bruises from head to foot. But he's around on his +wobbly little pins today, just the same, trying to edge in on some sort +of a job. Couldn't keep him in bed." + +Miss Clinton's eyes were full of wonder and incredulity. "I cannot +understand it," she said. "My cousin was with the American Ambulance in +France. He says that the slightest flesh wound sends a soldier to the +hospital." + +"They haven't any choice in the matter. Besides, it isn't the same. Poor +devils, they may have been at it in the trenches for weeks and months. A +wound of any sort means a pleasant vacation. Still," he went on after +a moment, a faint derisive smile on his lips, "we had a big husky up in +Camp who insisted on going to bed every time he had the nosebleed." + +She was looking into his blood-shot eyes, infinite pity and concern in +her own. + +"Will you let me dress your hands, Mr. Percival, whenever it is +necessary? I am getting used to it now." + +"It's good of you, Miss Clinton," he replied gratefully. "But I think +you'd better stick to the fellows who really need attention. Don't add +an extra ounce to your burden. You'll need all of your strength and +courage to face the demands of the next few days. Those chaps have +just begun to suffer. They're going to have a tight squeeze getting +through,--if they get through at all. You have not answered my question. +Is there anything I can do for you or your aunt?" + +"No,--not a thing," she said. "We are quite all right. As Mr. Mott said, +we are all in the same boat, Mr. Percival. We've got to make up our +minds to that. We can't have the comforts and the luxuries we had day +before yesterday. Whatever is left of them, we must share with others." + +"Even with stowaways," he ventured, but not fatuously. + +"No one is likely to forget how our only stowaway came by his wounds," +she said simply. "Despite your modesty, I am quite certain who it was +that carried the Chief Engineer on deck, Mr. Percival. While his clothes +were burning, too." + +Percival turned his face away and many seconds passed before he spoke. + +"By the way," he said at last, a trifle unsteadily, "at regular +intervals the gun up there in the bow is to be fired. You must not be +alarmed when it goes off. There is a chance that some ship may hear the +report. The British have a few warships down here, you know. They would +investigate if they got word of big guns being fired anywhere in these +parts. Mr. Mott will give warning when the gun is to be fired, so that +every one will understand. I--I just thought I'd tell you." + +"Thank you. Good-bye for the present. I must get back to my wounded." + +"Keep your spirits up," he said. "That's the principal job now, Miss +Clinton. Good-bye,--and thank you." + +He watched her as she moved off down the deck. He could not help +noticing that her figure drooped perceptibly. In his mind's eye he saw +her as she was but two days before, straight, graceful, full of the joy +of living, with a stride that was free and swinging. He recalled her +lovely, inquiring grey eyes as she stared at him on that ignominious +afternoon, the parted red lips and the smile that came to them, +the smartly dressed hair, the jaunty hat, the trim sport suit of +tan-coloured jersey--he recalled the alluring picture she made that day, +and sadly shook his head. + +"Poor girl," he said to himself, and walked slowly in the opposite +direction, favouring his left leg. + +He went down to see the Captain. The old seadog was stretched out in his +berth, a look of pain and utter despair in his eyes. One of the Russian +dancers, a rather pretty girl of a distinctly Slavic type, was cleaning +up the room. The ship's doctor had just left. + +"Feeling a bit more comfortable, sir?" inquired the young man. + +"I wish you'd get this girl out of here," growled Captain Trigger with +difficulty. "I want to swear." + +"I think it would be all right to go ahead with it, sir," said Percival. +"She doesn't understand a word of English." + +The Captain shook his head. "I'll let it wait." Then, looking at his +visitor's bandaged hands: "How are your hands, my lad?" + +"Fairly easy. The doctor says the burns are not deep. Mr. Mott asked me +to step in and see you, sir, and give you my opinion as to the bombs. +You see, I've had a great deal of experience with high explosives. There +isn't the slightest doubt in my mind that you found and got rid of the +worst of them. The officer in charge of the gun-crew agrees with me. +They planted the big ones, the ones that were to destroy the ship, down +in the hold, where there was less chance of discovery. The others, I am +convinced, were much smaller. It would have been impossible to hide a +bomb of any noticeable size in any of the places where the explosions +occurred. They went about it very cunningly, very systematically. Of +course, no one saw the bombs that exploded, but judging by the actual +results, they could not have been very powerful." + +"And I also," said the Captain, "thank God we dug out the big ones." +He scowled forlornly. "Dr. Cullen says I am in for a week of this, +Percival. You don't think so, do you?" + +Percival smiled. "I am more or less of an expert on explosives, sir," he +replied. + +"Umph," grunted Captain Trigger. "I see. Just the same, I think I'll be +up and about by tomorrow. If I were your age, young man, you can bet I +wouldn't be lying here in this bed." + +"On the other hand, if I were your age, Captain Trigger," said Percival, +"I'd probably have sense enough to do exactly what the doctor ordered." + +Captain Trigger's mouth fell open. + +"Well, of all the damned--" he began, and then swallowed hard. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +For three days and nights the Doraine drifted lazily in a calm and +rippling sea, always to the southward. The days were bright and warm, +the nights black and chill. It was the spring of the year in that zone. +Without adequate navigation instruments, Mr. Mott was forced to rely to +a great extent on speculation. He was able to make certain calculations +with reasonable accuracy, but they were of little real significance. +It was, of course, possible to determine the general direction in which +they were drifting, and the speed. They were slowly but surely edging +into the strong west wind drift. The Falkland Islands would soon be off +to the right, with South Georgia and the Sandwich group farther to the +south and east, the southernmost tip of Africa to the left. + +Not a sail had been sighted, not a sign of smoke appeared on the +spotless horizon. At regular intervals the gun on the forward deck +boomed thrice in quick succession, startling the lifeless hulk into a +sort of spasmodic vitality. Then she would sink back once more into +the old, irksome lethargy, incapable of resisting the gentlest wave, +submissive to the whim of the slightest breeze. The ship's carpenter +and his men were making slow headway in the well-nigh impossible task of +repairing the rudder. Attempts were being made to rig up makeshift sails +to replace those licked from the supplemental spars by flames that had +earned considerable progress along the roof of the upper deck building +before they were subdued. Blackened, charred masts and yards, stripped +of rigging, reared themselves like pines at the edge of a fire-swept +forest. Sail-makers and riggers laboured stubbornly, but the work was +slow and the means of restoration limited. + +The occupants of the derelict had settled down to a dull, almost dogged +state of resignation. There were several deaths and burials, incidents +that made but little impression on the waiting, watchful survivors. Each +succeeding day brought forth additional watchers to swell the anxious +throng,--resolute and sometimes ungovernable men who, defying their +wounds and the nurses, refused to stay where they could not have a hand +in all that was going on. + +Back of all this pitiful courage, however, lurked the unholy fear that +they might be left to their fate in case the ship had to be hurriedly +abandoned. + +Mr. Mott watched the weather. Every seaman on board the Doraine scanned +the cloudless sky with searching, anxious eyes. They sniffed the steady +wind that blew them farther south. Always they scanned the sky and +sniffed the wind. + +"It's got to come sometime," repeated Captain Trigger, after each report +from Mr. Mott. + +"I've known weather like this to last for weeks," said the First +Officer. + +"In the South Pacific, yes," said the Captain grimly. "But we're in the +South Atlantic, Mott." + +On the sixth day the barometer began to fall. The breeze stiffened. +The sea became choppy, and white-caps danced fitfully over the greenish +stretches, growing wilder and wilder under the whip of a flouting wind. +The two patchwork sails on the lumbering Doraine flapped noisily for +awhile, as if shaking off their tor-por, then suddenly grew taut and +fat with prosperity. The twisted, half-jammed rudder,--far from worthy +despite the efforts of its repairers,--whiningly obeyed the man at +the wheel, and once more the ship felt the caress of the deep on her +cleaving bows. + +The horizon to the north and west seemed to draw nearer, the contrast +between the deepening blue of the water and the clear azure of the +contracting dome more sharply defined. The sky that had been cloudless +for days still remained barren, but the sailor knew what lay beyond the +clear-cut rim of the world. The man of the sea could look far beyond the +horizon. He could see the ugly clouds that were even now speeding down +from the north, invisible as yet but soon to creep into view; he could +see the mighty billows on the other side of that distant line; he could +hear the roar and shriek of the tempest that was still hundreds of +miles away. It was the matter of but a few hours before the wind and the +billows would rush up to smite the Doraine with all their might under +the cover of a black and storm-rent sky. And what was to become of the +vessel, floundering in the path of the hurricane? + +Late afternoon brought the forerunner of the gale, a whistling, howling +squall that frantically strove, it would seem, to outrace the baleful +clouds. Then the Doraine was in the thick of the furious revel of sea +and sky, plunging, leaping, rolling like a monstrous cork.... + +How she managed to weather the storm, God knows, and He alone. At the +mercy of wave and wind, she was tossed and hammered and racked for +two frightful days and nights, and yet she remained afloat, battered, +smashed, raked from stem to stern, stripped of everything the tempest +could wrench from her in its fury. And yet on the third day, when the +storm abated, the sturdy ship was still riding the waves, flayed but +un-conquered, and the baffled sea was licking the sides of her once more +with servile though deceitful tenderness. + +But there was water in the hold. The ship was leaking badly. + +Up from the stifling interior straggled the unhappy inmates. They looked +again upon the unbelievable: a smiling, dancing sea of blue under a +canopy clean and spotless. It was unbelievable. Even the stouthearted +Captain and the faithful mate, blear-eyed and haggard from loss of +sleep, were filled with wonder. + +"I can't understand it," muttered Mr. Mott a dozen times that day, +shaking his head in a bewildered sort of way. "I can't understand how +she did it. By right, she ought to be at the bottom of the ocean, and +here she is on top of it, same as ever." + +"Do you believe in God, Mr. Mott?" asked the Captain solemnly. + +"I do," said Mr. Mott emphatically. After a moment he added: "I've been +a long time coming to it, Captain Trigger, but I do. Nothing short of an +Almighty Being could have steered this ship for the past two days." + +The Captain nodded his head slowly, his gaze fixed on something above +and far beyond the horizon. + +"I suppose it's too much to ask of Him, though," said he, audibly +completing a thought. + +Mr. Mott evidently had been thinking of the same thing, for he said: + +"I'm sorry to say it's gained about two feet on the pumps since last +night." + +Captain Trigger's face was very grave. "That means a couple of days more +at the outside." His eyes rested speculatively on the three lifeboats +still hanging above the starboard rail. There was another being repaired +on the port side. "More than six hundred of us on board, Andrew." His +head dropped suddenly, his chin twitched. Mr. Mott looked away. + +"I don't believe it will come to that," said he, an odd note of +confidence in his voice. "'Tain't likely, old friend, that God would see +us safely through all we've had to tackle and then desert us in the end. +Something's bound to turn up. I've a feeling,--a queer feeling,--that +we're going to pull out of this all right. I know it looks mighty +hopeless, but--" + +"Just the same, Mr. Mott," broke in the Captain, lifting his head and +setting his jaw, "you'd better set all available hands to work on the +rafts immediately. It's true God has helped us through a lot, but it +strikes me we'd better be on the safe side and help God a little at +this stage of the game. He is wonderful, Andrew, but He isn't wonderful +enough to keep man afloat very long unless man himself builds the raft. +So don't lose a minute." + +Anxious, inquiring eyes followed the Captain and his First Officer +wherever they went. On all sides were silent, beaten people who asked +no questions, for they were afraid of the answers. Sick, dazed, haggard, +they stared hopelessly, drearily out over the water; for all that their +faces revealed the end was near at hand and they cared but little. They +had been through one hell; death could bring nothing worse. + +Here and there a stout-hearted optimist appeared among them, but his +very cheerfulness seemed to offend. They did not want to hear his silly, +stupid predictions that something was "sure to turn up." They knew +that water was coming into the hold; they knew that there were but four +lifeboats and seven hundred men and women; they knew that the Doraine +was going down in a very few hours; they knew that the Captain had given +up all hope of rescue. Nothing could "turn up" now but death. + +Madame Obosky had taken a great fancy to Algernon Adonis Percival, and +for a most peculiar reason. He had, it appears, abused her roundly +on the first night of the storm for venturing on deck against orders, +compelling him to risk what he considered a very precious life in a +successful effort to drag her back to safety. As a matter of fact, +he did not drag her back to safety. That feat was accomplished by two +sailors who managed to reach both of them before another devastating +wave came up to tear his grip loose from the broken rail to which he +clung with one bandaged hand while he kept her from sliding into the sea +with the other. + +He was very angry. In the first place, his hands hurt him dreadfully, +and in the second place she had forced him to disobey orders by going +out to save her. He did not mutter his complaints. He told her in plain +and violent English what he thought of her, and if she went out there +again he'd be damned happy to let her drown. + +Now, it had been some time since any man had had the hardihood or +temerity to upbraid Madame Obosky. No male had cursed her since she +left Petrograd,--and that was four years ago. She had been cursed often +enough by her own sex,--professionally, of course,--but the men she +had encountered since leaving Russia were either too chivalrous or too +cowardly to abuse her, and she missed it terribly. + +She had gone through a very hard school in order to become one of the +principal dancers in her land. Teachers had cursed her, teachers had +beaten her,--and they always were men. + +When she was eighteen she married a lion-tamer. Who would have thought +that a man who trained lions could be gentle and mild, and as tame as +the beasts he had beaten for years? She was barely nineteen when he +died, quite suddenly. There was a dark rumour that she had poisoned him. +True or false, the rumour persisted, and she soon became one of the most +popular dancers in the Empire. For three years she had a manager who +treated her so vilely, so contemptuously that she tried to kill his +wife, whereupon the unnatural husband refused to have anything more to +do with her. + +She was dancing in Germany when the War broke out, but succeeded in +getting over into Holland within a week or two, thereby escaping what +she was pleased to describe as "something zat no woman could endure, no +matter how long she have live' in Russia." Paris and London had treated +her kindly, courteously, but that was to be expected, she repined, +because all of the real men were off at the front fighting. Instead of +being scowled at and ordered about by managers and orchestra leaders, or +brow-beaten by hotel-clerks and head-waiters, she met with nothing +but the most servile politeness,--due, she was prone to argue, to the +unquestioned decadence of the French and English races. They were a +bloodless lot, those Frenchmen and Englishmen. + +It was the same in Rio Janeiro, Buenos Aires and Santiago,--and it would +be even worse in New York, Chicago and San Francisco. The Americans, she +had heard, were the worst of them all. They didn't know the first thing +about the majesty of sex. The Indian, she understood, was an exception. +From all accounts, he knew how to treat his woman. + +She was homesick. Her heart leaped with joy when she discovered in +Percival what she believed to be a domineering, masterful man. He had +been neither servile, nor polite, nor afraid. He had treated her,--at +least for an illuminating, transcendent ten minutes,--as if she were +the dirt under his feet,--and he was an American at that. True, he had +apologized a little later on, and had blushed quite becomingly in doing +so, but nothing,--nothing in the world,--would ever make her believe +that he was not the sort of man who could be depended upon to put a +woman in her place and keep her there. He might apologize until he was +black in the face and still be unable to take back the words he had +uttered. Notwithstanding that he, in his apology, professed to have +mistaken her in the darkness for one of the Portuguese immigrant women +who didn't understand a word of English, she forgave him quite humbly, +and that was going pretty far for Olga Obosky, whose identity ought not +to have been a matter of doubt, even on the darkest of nights. + +She was a lithe, perfectly formed young woman, beautiful in an unusual +way. Her body was as sinuous as that of a woodland nymph. Indeed, in +one of her most spectacular dances, she appeared as a nymph, barefooted, +bare-legged, and,--as Mrs. Spofford caustically remarked,--bare-faced. +She possessed the marvellously clear, colourless complexion found only +among the purely Slavic women. Her lips were red and sensuous, her eyes +darkly mysterious and brooding, her hair as black as the raven's wing. + +When she smiled her face became strikingly alive, radiant, transforming +her into a jolly, good-natured, wholesome girl in whom not the faintest +trace of the carnal was left. Every move, every thought, every impulse +was feminine; her imagination was feminine; she cast the spell of her +femininity over all with whom she came in contact. Primitively sensuous, +she was also primitively wary,--and so she was ineffably feminine. + +Prior to the time of her dramatic encounter with the American, she had +favoured him with no more than a glance or two of curiosity. He was a +stowaway; for a brief while he was suspected of being involved in the +plot to blow up the ship. That was enough for her. Twice she had seen +Miss Clinton talking with him, and once, just before the storm set in, +she had paused to watch the young American girl renew the bandages on +his hands after dressing the burns. Half an hour after he had apologized +for speaking so roughly to her, she decided that it was her duty to hunt +him up and minister to him. The ship was rolling terribly, the din of +the elements was deafening, but Olga Obosky was not a faint-hearted +person. She went forth boldly, confidently. Terrified, clinging +observers marvelled at her sure-footedness, at the graceful way in which +her sinuous body bent itself to the perilous heavings of the vessel. + +She found him in the reading-room, seated in a corner. Miss Clinton was +readjusting the bandage on one of his hands. Half a dozen people were +in the room, manfully defying the turmoil that had sent nearly every one +else to bed in terror and distress. Without hesitation the dancer joined +the couple in the corner. Her smile was engaging; a faint line between +her eyebrows signified the concern she felt for him. + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +Miss Clinton looked up from her work. Her smile was politely +accusative,--and brief. + +"It is all my fault," began Madame Obosky, standing before them, her +feet wide apart, her knees bent slightly to meet the varying slants and +lurches of the vessel. She spoke the English language confidently and +well. Her accent, which was scarcely noticeable, betrayed the fact that +she had mastered French long before attempting English. There was +a piquant boldness in the occasional misplacing of words and in the +haphazard construction of sentences. She was unafraid. + +"I have subject him to much pain and discomfort," she went on, +addressing the girl. "Those poor hand! It is I who should kiss them, +Mademoiselle, not you." + +"Kiss them?" gasped Miss Clinton. + +"Of no doubt," said Madame Obosky readily. "Do they not pain because of +me? Should I not kiss the hand who snatch me from the horrible death? +From the Kingdom Come, as the doctor he say to me such a little time +ago. And you, Mademoiselle, who have not been save by him from +the Kingdom Come, you attend his hands and make him to be greatly +comfortable." + +"I am merely dressing the burns, Madame Obosky," said the other, coldly. +"I have done as much for the other poor fellows who--" + +"I know, I know," broke in the Russian, smiling. "You must not be offend +with me if I speak your language so badly." + +"It strikes me you speak it most acceptably," interposed Percival. + +"What is your name?" she asked abruptly. "I have heard you called the +stowaway. No one has speak your name to me." + +"My name is Percival," said he. + +"It is a pretty name," said she, dubiously. "But surely you do not +approve of me to call you Percival so quick. What is the other name, the +name I am to--" + +"That's the trouble with a name like mine. It sounds so beastly informal +when you leave off the Mister, and it sounds as if you'd been a servant +in the family for at least one generation if you stick it on. If you +could only call me Monsieur Percival, or Senor Percival, or even Herr +Percival, it wouldn't seem so bad, but Mister Percival,--well, it's +pretty soft, isn't it, Miss Clinton?" + +"Please hold your hand still, Mr. Percival," ordered the girl. She +smiled up at the puzzled dancer. "His name is Mr. Percival, Madame +Obosky. That's the poor creature's last name." + +"Oh, I see. Then even you, Mademoiselle, may not call him Percival?" + +"No, I do not call him Percival." + +"You see, she's known me such a very short time," explained the subject +of these remarks. + +For a few moments Madame Obosky watched the bandaging process in +silence. When she spoke again it was to say: + +"You are so skilful, so gentle, Mademoiselle. I am taking a lesson in +gentleness from you." + +"It is quite simple, Madame. I am very awkward. I have had no +experience. But if we ever live to see home again, I shall prepare +myself at once for work in France. We are needed over there. We will be +needed more than ever, now that America has gone in. Our own soldiers +are over there, God bless them." + +Madame Obosky gave her a pitying look. + +"You may thank your God that you do not live in a land of soldiers, +Mademoiselle. If you did, you would not be so eager to nurse them back +to life. Do I shock you? Voila! When you train a boy to be a soldier, as +the boys are trained in my country and in Germany, you make an animal of +him,--and not a very nice animal at that. You nurse him back to life and +strength and in return for your kindness he outrages you, and goes his +way rejoicing. No, I do not like the soldiers." + +Miss Clinton did not look up. Percival stared at the Russian for a +moment and then observed: + +"I don't think you can say that of the French or the English, Madame." + +She shrugged her shoulders. "Quite true. But the French and the English, +Mr. Percival, are decadent races," she said coolly, as if there were +nothing more to be said on the subject. "Please, Mademoiselle," she went +on, briskly, "will you not let me see how you have prepared his hands? I +mean, how have you,--is it right to say fixed them?" + +"Dressed them, you mean, Madame Obosky." + +"I see. First you undress them, then you dress them, is it not so?" + +Ruth Clinton laughed. The woman was quaint. + +"I am about to begin on the left hand. You may watch me, if you care to +do so." + +"Will it not make you embarrass?" + +"Why should I be embarrassed?" inquired Ruth, flushing. + +"I have said the wrong word," lamented the other. "Nervous,--zat,--that +is the word." + +"They're not very lovely things to look at," said Percival. "All red and +blistery and greasy. Miss Clinton is a regular heroine to tackle 'em." + +"I have witnessed some very terrible sights, Mr. Percival," said +the Russian, her eyes narrowing. "Have you ever seen a little Jewish +girl,--but no, Mademoiselle, no! I have catch the look in your eyes. I +shall not tell you what I have seen. Go on! I shall be silent and take +my first lesson." + +Closely, intently she watched the process. When it was all over and the +bottle containing ointment had been restored to the patient's pocket, +she spread out her hands and exclaimed: + +"It is not difficult. May I inquire where the gauze bandages are to be +obtained, Miss Clinton? And do you always use the same safety pins?" + +She arose early the next morning. Rousing her maid, she ordered her to +apply to the ship's surgeon for bandages and to fetch them to her at +once. + +"I know,--yes, I know. You are dying, but do as I tell you. This +instant! Why should you, a great hulking beast of a woman, be dying +every minute of the day while I, not half your size, am tingling all +over with life? Go!" + +"But, Madame," groaned the wretched woman, rolling her eyes, "I shall +be dashed to pieces against the walls. I cannot stand. My legs will not +hold me up. They--" + +"Enough! That is no excuse. My legs manage to hold me up." + +"But, Madame, it is my legs I am speaking of. My legs are not like +yours." + +"Any fool can see that," retorted her mistress, and the ungainly maid +staggered out on her mission. + +Later on, supplied with a roll of gauze, Madame Obosky set out in quest +of her preserver. Even the veterans among the seamen gazed upon her +in wondering admiration as she made her way about the ship. She was a +revelation to them. The increasing fury of the storm had driven all save +the hardiest sailors and a few of the non-praying male passengers to +their rooms. Now and then one or two of the courageous, devoted nurses +appeared in the corridors, reeling from patient to patient, but except +for them the ship seemed entirely bereft of women. Small wonder then +that the lithe, undaunted Russian created a sensation among the sailors +who themselves were cold with dread. + +She discovered him at last, coming up the steps from the devastated +engine room. He was with Mr. Mott and several other half-dressed men. +Their faces were grave,--more serious than ever. They had been down to +investigate the leak. Percival was stripped to the waist. The glare of +the lanterns fell upon his broad shoulders and powerful arms, bronzed +and burnished by the sun of the high hills. + +"Come," she said, laying her hand on one of his brawny arms, "I have +with me the bandages." She sent a swift glance over him, and smiled. +"But I see you have not the bottle. Is it in your cabin, Mr. Percivail?" + +He flushed darkly under his coat of tan. His companions stared for a +moment, and then went on. + +"I am busy," he said. "I haven't the time now, Madame Obosky. Thank you, +just the same." Then a sense of loyalty to the girl who had been kind to +him impelled him to add: "Besides, Miss Clinton has been taking care of +my hands. She has got used to dressing them, so I--" + +"But it is my duty now," she protested. "She owes so little to you and I +so much. Come, let us procure the lotion. Where is your cabin?" + +He held back. "You can't go to my cabin." + +"And why not?" she exclaimed, in surprise. "Does not Miss Clinton go to +your cabin?" + +"No, she does not!" + +"But she goes to the cabins of other men who are wounded. I have see her +with my own eyes." + +"That's different. They can't come to her." + +She looked searchingly into his eyes. + +"I see," she said after a moment. "You are in love with her." + +"Ridiculous," he exclaimed, scowling. + +"And so you prefer to have her fix your hands. I see, my friend. Voila! +If so is the case, I am outcast." + +"But, confound it, it isn't the case," he cried. "It's simply this: I +wouldn't for the world have her feel that I am not grateful, and that's +exactly what it would look like if I allowed you or any one else to butt +in, Madame Obosky." + +"Butt in?" she said, a puzzled look in her dark eyes. "What is that?" + +"It's English for interfere," said he, shortly. + +She removed her hand from his arm. He was conscious of the abrupt +termination of an exquisite thrill. + +"Very well," she said, lifting her chin. "I shall not interfere." + +"Forgive me, please," he said. "It's mighty good of you. Please don't +think me ungracious. You understand, however,--don't you?" + +"No, I do not," she replied, shaking her head slowly. Suddenly her eyes +widened. "Is it because I dance in my bare feet, in my bare legs, that +you think so vilely of me?" + +He stared. "Good Lord! I don't think vilely of you, Madame Obosky. I +wasn't even aware that you danced in your bare feet and legs." + +"You have never seen Obosky dance?" she cried in astonishment. + +"Never." + +She frowned. "Then, my friend, I was wrong in what I say just now. Most +men who have seen me dance think I am a bad woman, and so they either +covet me or despise me. If you have not had ze pleasure of seeing me, +Mr. Percivail, you do not either covet me or despise me. That is fine. +It is good to know that you do not despise me." Observing the expression +in his eyes, she went on calmly. "Oh, yes, I shall be very much please +to have you covet me. Zat--that is all right. But if you despise +me,--no, no, zat would be terrible." + +For a moment he was dashed. He did not know how to take her remark. She +was a new, a strange type to him. After a sharp, quick look into +her eyes, however, he came to the conclusion that she was absolutely +sincere. So far as she was concerned, it was as if she had said nothing +more outrageous than: "I shall be please to consider you one of my +admirers." + +"My dear Madame," he said, smiling, "permit me to express the hope that +both of us may go on to the end of our days without having our peace of +mind disturbed." + +She looked puzzled for a moment, and then favoured him with her broad, +good-natured smile. + +WEST WIND DRIFT 85 + +"Spoken like a Frenchman," she cried, and added, "and with equal +sincerity, I fear. Go your way, Monsieur Percivail. I shall keep my +gauze. Some day when we are very old people and very old friends I may +then be permitted to bandage your hands. At present, however, the risk +is too great, eh? I am so inexperience. I might by accident tie your +hands in my clumsiness, and zat--that would make so much trouble for +Miss Clinton to untie zem,--yes?" + +Now there was mockery in her eyes. His face hardened. + +"I must be on my way," he said curtly. "We have been looking things over +down below. The Captain is waiting for our report." + +He bowed and started off. She swung along at his side. + +"What have you discover, Mr. Percivail?" she inquired anxiously. + +"That, Madame Obosky, is something that will have to come from Captain +Trigger." + +"I see. That means it is bad. I see." + +The lurching of the ship threw her body against his. She righted herself +promptly, but did not reveal the slightest confusion nor utter a word of +apology. + +"By Jove, you're a cool one!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe you know +the meaning of fear. Don't you realize, Madame Obosky, that we are in +the gravest peril? Don't you know this ship has but one chance in a +thousand to pull through?" + +"Ah, my friend, but it has the one chance, has it not? Surely I know the +meaning of fear. I am afraid of rats and snakes and thieves--and drunken +soldiers. I am afraid of death,--terribly afraid of death. Oh, yes, I +know what fear is, Mr. Percivail." + +"Then, why don't you show it now?" he cried. "Good Lord, I don't mind +confessing that I'm scared half to death. I don't want to die like +this,--like a rat in a trap." + +"But you are not going to die," she proclaimed. "I too would be groaning +and praying in my bed if I thought we were going down to the bottom of +zis dreadful ocean. But we are not. I have no fear. We shall come out +all right on top, and some day we will laugh and tell funny stories +about how everybody else was frightened but us,--us apiece, I mean." + +"Well, you're a wonder! And how the deuce do you manage to keep your +feet with the ship rolling like this?" + +"Two things I have been taught, since I am ten years old. First, to keep +my head, and second to keep my feet. In my profession, one must do both. +You will always find me doing that. Good-bye,--we part here. You will +not forget zat--that I have retain the bandage for you? And you will not +ever despise me?" + +As she turned away a roll that must have caused the wallowing vessel to +list thirty-five degrees at the very least, sent her headlong across the +passage. She slipped down in a heap. The same lurch had sent him reeling +against the wall some distance away. She sat up but did not at once +attempt to arise. Instead she clutched frantically at her skirt to draw +it down over her shapely ankles and calves. In the lantern light he +saw the dismayed, shamed look in her eyes and the vivid blush of +embarrassment that suffused her pale cheeks. As the ship rolled back, +he moved forward to assist her, but she sprang lightly to her feet and +hurried on ahead of him, disappearing around a corner. + +"Well, by gosh!" he muttered aloud in his surprise. "And she dances half +naked before thousands of people every night! Can you beat it! The last +person in the world you'd think would care a whoop, and she turns out +to be as finicky about her legs as your grandmother. Women certainly are +queer." + +With this profound comment on the inconsistency of the sex, he took +himself off in the direction of the Captain's quarters,--a forward cabin +which served in lieu of the dismantled bridge. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +He saw but little of her during the next forty-eight hours. She +seemed to avoid him. At any other time and in other circumstances he +undoubtedly would have resented her indifference,--a very common and +natural masculine failing,--but in these strenuous hours he was too +fully occupied with the affairs of life and death. Once she stopped him +to inquire if Miss Clinton was still able to dress his wounds. + +"Once a day," he replied. "She's even pluckier than you are, Madame +Obosky." + +Her eyes narrowed. "Indeed?" + +"Yes, because she believes we are going to die--every one of us. It +takes pluck to keep going when you've got that sort of thing to face, +doesn't it?" + +Her gesture took in the dozen or more men within range of her vision. +"It should take no more pluck to keep a woman going than a man, my +friend. You do not call yourself plucky, do you? I do not call myself +plucky. On the contrary, I call myself a coward. I am afraid to stay in +my stateroom. I like to be out in the open like zis. One has to be very, +very brave, Mr. Percivail, to lie in one's bed all alone and think that +death is waiting just outside the thin little walls. Miss Clinton is +splendid, but she is not plucky. She is as I am: afraid of the darkness, +afraid to be alone, afraid to be where she cannot know and see all zat +is happening. She has a woman's courage, just as I have it,--if you +please. It is the courage that depends so much on the courage of others. +You think I am brave. I am brave because I am with trained, efficient +men. But if the Captain were to come to me now as I stand here, and say +zat the ship is to sink in ten minutes and that we all must go down with +her, would I face it bravely? No! I would throw myself down on the floor +and scream and pray and tear my hair. Why? Because the men had given up. +I am kept up by the courage of others. That is the courage of woman. She +must be supported in her pain, in her suffering, in her courage." + +"Well, if you put it that way, there are very few men who would take +such an announcement from the Captain calmly." + +"Perhaps not, my friend. But if there were room for but few in the +boats, who would stay behind and go down with the ship? Nine out of +every ten of the men. Why? Not because they are all courageous, I grant +you, but because of the horrible conceit that makes them our masters. +Pride and conceit constitute what stands for courage in most men. The +wild animal has no conceit, he has no pride. Does the male lion rush out +to be shot in place of his mate? He do not. He sneaks off in the high +reeds and leaves her to take care of herself. The Captain of this +steamer is so full of pride zat he will stay on it till it goes under +the wave. It is not courage, Mr. Percivail. It is his pride in the +power zat--that God has give to his sex. These men here,--you, my +friend,--face the danger now so unflinching for why? Because for ages +and ages you have believe in and depend upon the man beside you, the men +around you. Zat is the difference between man and woman. Woman believes +in and depends on man. She has no faith in her own sex. So, you see, my +friend, when I say I am brave and you say Miss Clinton is plucky, it is +all because we have men about us who are so proud and conceited zat they +will die before they will admit that they are not as helpless and as +weak as we are in times like zis." + +"You may be right," he mused, struck by her argument. "It's usually +pride that makes a man stand up and fight another, even when he knows +he's sure to be beaten. It's neither confidence nor courage. It's just +plain fear of being a coward." + +"You will admit then that I understand the wonderful male animal which +struts on two legs and rules all the other animals of the world, eh? +It is the only animal in the whole big world zat--that is completely +satisfied with itself. So now, Mr. Percivail, you have the secret of the +so-called courage of the male of our species." + +"I hope all women haven't gone into the subject so deeply," he said, +with a rueful smile. "You make rather small potatoes of us." + +"Ah, do not say that," she cried, "for, alas, I am denied potatoes." + +"Well, then," he said, laughing, "if all women understood us as well as +you do, we wouldn't rule the world very much longer. They'd yank us off +the pedestal and revile us forevermore." + +"But you do not understand women, my friend. Did we not bring you into +the world? Are you not our sons, and therefore begotten to be kings? We +may despise our husbands, we may loathe our brothers and our fathers, +we women, but our sons are the gods we worship. My dear Mr. Percivail, +women will go on being ruled to the end of time unless they cease +populating the world with sons. The mother of the man is the humblest +subject of the son and yet the proudest. The mothers of kings, of +emperors, of presidents,--do they think of them as kings, emperors, +presidents? No. They think of them as sons. That is why man is supreme. +That is why he rules. To be sure, we women are not always disposed to +have our husbands rule, we even go so far as to say they are not fit +to rule, but alas, the men we are permitted to know the best of all +are always the sons of some one else, and so there you have the endless +chain. Sons! Sons! Sons! Sons to create new sons,--sons without end, +amen! God bless our sons!" + +"And I say God bless our mothers!" + +"In that one little sentence, Mr. Percivail, spoke from the heart, +you have reveal the secret history of the world. You have account for +everything." + +"You are a million years old, Madame Obosky," he said, looking into her +deep, unfathomable eyes. + +She smiled. "So? And which of my sons, Mr. Percivail, do you think I +love the most? Cain or Abel?" + +"It would take a woman to answer that question. There's one thing +certain, however. You loved both of them more than you loved Adam." + +"True. But I followed Adam out of the Garden of Eden and I have never +left his heels from zat day to this. What more could any man ask?" + +On the second morning after the storm, the lookout fixed his straining +eyes on a far-distant, shadowy line that had not been a part of the +boundless horizon the day before. Dawn was breaking, night was lifting +her sheet from the new-born day. He waited. He could not be sure. +Minutes that seemed like hours passed. Then suddenly his hoarse shout +rose out of the silence: + +"Land ho!" + +Down into the heart of the ship boomed the cry, taken from the lookout's +lips by one after another of the weary men below. The sweating, +exhausted toilers who manned the pumps paused for a moment, then fell +to work again revitalized. Out from the cabins, up from every nook and +corner of the ship scrambled the excited horde, fully dressed, their +faces haggard with doubt, their eyes aglow with joy. Land! In every +round little window gleamed a face,--for a moment only along the +portside. Nothing but the same endless ocean on the port side of the +ship. Water! Sick and wounded drew themselves up to the portholes and +peered out from their cells for the first time. + +"Where?... Where?" ran the wild, eager cry of the scurrying throng, and +there was disappointment--bitter disappointment in their voices. They +had been tricked. There was no land in sight! The glasses of the ship's +officers, clustered far forward, were directed toward some point off the +starboard bow, but if there was land over there it was not visible to +the naked eye. A junior engineer saluted Captain Trigger and left the +group. + +"There is land ahead,--a long way off," he announced as he passed +through the throng in the saloon deck. + +Up above the clamour of questions shouted from all sides as the crazed +people flocked behind the messenger of hope, rose the voice of Morris +Shine. + +"Land ahoy! Ahoy-yoy-yoy!" he yelled over and over again, his chin +raised like that of a dog baying at the moon. + +Every person on deck was either carrying a life-belt or was already +encased in one. Grim orders of the night just past. Here and there were +to be seen men who clutched tightly the handles of suitcases and kit +bags! Evidently they were expecting to step ashore at once. In any case, +they belonged to the class of people who never fail to crowd their +way down the gang-plank ahead of every one else. The fashionable ocean +liners always have quite a number of these on board, invariably in the +first cabin. + +Percival ranged the decks in quest of Ruth Clinton. She was well aft on +the boat deck, where the rail was not so crowded as it was forward. +Her arm was about the drooping, pathetic figure of her aunt. They were +staring intently out over the water,--the girl's figure erect, vibrant, +alive with the spirit of youth, her companion's sagging under the doubt +and scepticism of age. He hesitated a moment before accosting them. +Nicklestick, the Jew, was excitedly retailing the news to them. He went +so far as to declare that he could see land quite clearly,--and so could +they if they would only look exactly where he was pointing. He claimed +to have been one of the very first men on board to see the land. + +Ruth was hatless. Her braided brown hair had been coiled so hastily, so +thoughtlessly that stray strands fell loose about her neck and ears to +be blown gaily by the breeze across her cheek. Her blouse was open at +the neck, her blue serge jacket flared in the wind. Every vestige of the +warm, soft colour had left her face. She was deathly pale with emotion. + +Percival was suddenly conscious of a mist bedimming his eyes. + +Several people were grouped near them at the rail, listening to +Nicklestick. The stowaway joined them. As if sensing his presence, Ruth +turned suddenly and saw him. + +"Oh!" she cried, tremulously. "Have--have you seen it, Mr. Percival?" + +"No," he replied. "It won't be visible for an hour or so longer. It's +off there all right, though. The lookout, Captain Trigger and several +others got a glimpse of it before the sun began to pull the mist up +to obscure it for a little while. That's mist over there," he went on, +turning to Nicklestick. "You couldn't see the Andes Mountains if they +were where that strip of land is hidden. It won't be long, Miss Clinton, +before we all can see it." + +"How far away is it?" she asked, controlling her voice with an effort. +"Do they know? Can they estimate?" + +"I'll tell you what let's do," he said abruptly. "Let's go up on the sun +deck. I've got Mr. Gray's glasses. We can see better up there. Let me +assist you, Mrs. Spofford. The sun deck is pretty badly smashed up and +littered with all sorts of wreckage, but we can manage it all right." + +Mrs. Spofford looked at him intently for a moment. + +"I remember you now," she said. "Are you sure,--are you positive there +is land over there?" + +"I have Captain Trigger's word for it." + +"And mine, too," added Mr. Nicklestick. "You may rest assured, Mrs. +Spofford, that we will all be on dry land before many hours." + +Percival leaned close to the speaker and said in a very low but emphatic +tone: + +"You don't know a damn thing about it, so keep your trap closed. If +you're a man, you won't go on raising false hopes in the breasts of +these women." + +Nicklestick's jaw fell. He whispered: + +"My God,--ain't we--you don't mean to say there is a chance we won't be +able to--" + +But Percival had turned away with the two women. Mrs. Spofford took his +arm, leaning heavily against him. Her figure had straightened, however. +He had given her the needed confidence. + +They made their way up the steps leading to the topmost deck. Others had +already preceded them. A dozen men and women were looking out over +the sea through their binoculars. They recognized Landover, Madame +Careni-Amori (clutching her jewel case), Joseppi, Fitts and one or two +more. Olga Obosky was well forward, seated on the edge of a partially +wrecked skylight and ventilator. Her three dancing girls were with her, +closely grouped. + +Percival purposely remained near the steps. He knew full well that the +ship's hours were numbered. It was only a question of time when she +would founder. In the lee of one of the big stacks they huddled close +together and waited for the lifting of the veil. The wind was soft but +strong up there at the top of the vessel. He took hope in the fact that +it was blowing toward the shores of that unseen land, and that slowly +but surely the Doraine was drifting thither. + +Suddenly, as if a curtain were being raised, a far-off line appeared on +the surface of the waters. Higher rose the curtain, and like magic the +line developed into an irregular ridge, the ends of which sank below the +horizon far to the right and left. + +Percival felt the girl's hand on his arm. He shot a swift glance at her +face. It was turned away. She staring at the mystic panorama that was +being unveiled off there on the rim of the world. Her eyes were bright, +her lips were parted in the ecstasy of hope revived, she was breathing +deeply. The pulse in her smooth white neck was beating rapidly, +rythmically. He could see it. He laid his bandaged hand firmly upon hers +and pressed it tightly to his arm. She did not look around. Her every +thought was centred upon the unfolding vision. + +"There are trees," she murmured, enthralled. "Trees,--and hills! See, +Auntie,--but oh, how far away they are!" + +For many minutes they stood there without speaking. Then from all sides +came the clamour of voices,--shouts of joy, cheers,--laughter! She +looked down at the clumsy object that imprisoned her hand, then swiftly +up into his eyes. A warm flush spread over her face. + +"I--I couldn't help it," he muttered. "It--it looked so helpless." + +"It isn't half as helpless as yours, Mr. Percival," she said, and +smiled. She waited a moment before withdrawing her hand. "May I have the +glasses, please? Had you forgotten them?" + +"Completely," he replied. + +Later, while Mrs. Spofford was peering through the glasses, she drew him +aside. + +"Tell me about the water in the hold," she said in a low tone. "Is it +serious?" + +He looked grave. "Very. If you will take a peep over the side of the +ship, you'll see how low down she is in the water." + +"My aunt doesn't know the ship is leaking," she went on, hurriedly. "I +want to keep it from her as long as possible." He nodded his head. + +"Mr. Mott figures we'll stay afloat for ten or twelve hours,--maybe +longer. I will see to it that you and Mrs. Spofford get into one of the +boats in case we--well, just in case, you know. We will be given ample +warning, Miss Clinton. Things don't look as hopeless as they did last +night." He pointed toward the land. "It looks like heaven, doesn't it?" + +Her face clouded. "But only a very few of us may--" she stopped, +shuddering. + +"You poor little girl!" he cried brokenly. He steadied himself and went +on: "It wouldn't surprise me in the least if every blessed one of us got +safely ashore." + +"You do not believe that, Mr. Percival. I can tell by the look in your +eyes. I want you to promise me one thing. If we have to take to the +boats, you will come with us--" + +He drew himself up. "My dear Miss Clinton, there is quite a difference +between being a stowaway on an ocean liner and being one in a lifeboat. +I have no standing on this ship. I have no right in one of her boats. I +am the very last person on board to be considered." + +She looked searchingly into his eyes, her own wide with comprehension. +"You mean you will make no effort to leave the ship until every one else +is--" + +He checked her with a gesture of his hand. "I may be one of the first to +leave. But I'll not rob any one else of his place in a boat or his space +on one of those rafts. I'll swim for it." + +Slowly the land crept down upon the Doraine. The illusion was startling. +The ship seemed to be lying absolutely motionless; it was the land that +approached instead of the other way round. A thin white beach suddenly +emerged from the green background to the left, to the right an ugly mass +of rocks took shape, stretching as far as the eye could reach. Farther +inland rose high, tree covered hills, green as emeralds in the blazing +sunlight. On a sea of turquoise lolled the listless Doraine. + +Soundings were taken from time to time. Even the bottom of the ocean was +coming up to meet the Doraine. Its depth appreciably lessened with each +successive measurement. From fifty fathoms it had decreased to ten since +the first line was dropped. + +At four o'clock, Captain Trigger ordered a boat lowered and manned by a +picked crew in charge of the Second Engineer. The Doraine was about +five miles off shore at the time, and was drifting with a noticeably +increased speed directly toward the rock-bound coast. He had hoped she +would go aground in the shallow waters off the sandy beach, but there +was now no chance that such a piece of good fortune was in store for +her. She was going straight for the huge black rocks. + +The boat's crew rowed in for observations. Even before they returned to +report, the anxious officers on board the vessel had made out a narrow +fissure in the rocky coast line. They assumed that it was the mouth of +a small river. The Second Engineer brought back the astonishing +information that this opening in the coast was the gateway to a channel +that in his judgment split the island into two distinct sections. That +it was not the mouth of a river was made clear by the presence of a +current so strong that his men had to exert themselves to the utmost to +prevent the boat being literally sucked into the channel by the powerful +tide, which apparently was at its full. This opening,--the water rushed +into it so swiftly that he was satisfied it developed into a gorge +farther back from the coast,--was approximately two hundred yards wide, +flanked on either side by low lying, formidable bastions of rock. The +water was not more than fifty feet deep off the entrance to the channel. + +Gradually the prow of the Doraine swung around and pointed straight for +the cleft in the shore. The ship, two miles out, had responded to +the insidious pressure of the current and was being drawn toward the +rocks,--at first so slowly that there was scarcely a ripple off her +bows; then, as she lumbered onward, she began to turn over the water as +a ploughshare turns over the land. + +At precisely six o'clock she slid between the rocky portals and entered +a canal so straight and true that it might have been drilled and blasted +out of the earth under the direction of the most skilful engineers in +the world. + +Soundings were hastily taken. Discovering that the water was not deep +enough even at high tide to submerge the vessel when the inevitable came +to pass and she sank to the bottom, Captain Trigger renewed his efforts +to release the anchor chains, which had been caught and jammed in the +wreckage. He realized the vital necessity for checking the Doraine in +her flight before she accomplished the miracle of passing unhindered +through the channel and out into the open sea beyond. The swiftness of +the current indicated plainly enough that this natural canal was of no +great length. + +The ship slid on between the tree lined banks. The trees were of the +temperate zone, with spreading limbs, thick foliage and hardy trunks. +There were no palms visible, but in the rarely occurring open spaces +a large shrub abounded. This was instantly recognized by Percival, who +proclaimed it to be the algaroba, a plant commonly found on the Gran +Chaco in Argentina. While the woodland was thick there was nothing about +it to suggest the tropical jungle with its impenetrable fastnesses. + +The keel of the half-sunken Doraine was scraping ominously on the bed +of the channel. She shivered and swerved from frequent contact with +submerged rocks, but held her course with uncanny steadiness, while +every soul on board gazed with stark, despairing eyes at the land which +mocked them as they passed. Far on ahead loomed the lofty hills, and +beyond them lay--What? The ocean? + +Gradually the passage widened. Its depth also increased. The ship no +longer scraped the bottom, she no longer caromed off the sunken rocks. +On the other hand, water poured into her interior with increasing force +and volume, indicating a disastrous rent forward. She was sloshing along +toward the centre of a basin which appeared to be half a mile wide and +not more than a mile long. Directly ahead of her the hills came down +to meet the water. A dark narrow cut, with towering sides, indicated an +outlet for the tiny, inland sea. This gorge, toward which the Doraine +was being resistlessly drawn, appeared to be but little wider than the +ship itself. + +Almost in the shadow of the hills, and within a dozen ship-lengths of +the sinister opening, the worn, exhausted, beaten Doraine came to rest +at the end of her final voyage. She shivered and groaned under the +jarring impact, forged onward half her length, heeled over slightly--and +died! She was anchored for ever in the tiny landlocked sea, proud +leviathan whose days had been spent in the boundless reaches of the open +deep. + +And here for the centuries to come would lie the proud Doraine, guided +to her journey's end by the pilot Chance, moored for all time in the +strangest haven ever put into by man. + +Behind the stranded vessel stretched centuries incalculable, and in all +these centuries no man had entered here. Screened from the rest of +the world, untended by chortling tugs, unheralded by raucous sirens, +welcomed only by primeval solitude, the Doraine had come to rest. + +She settled down on her bed of rocks to sleep for evermore, a mottled +monster whose only covering was the night; indifferent to storm and +calm, to time and tide, to darkness and light, she sat serene in her +little sea. Her lofty walls towered high above the waves that broke +tremblingly against them, as if afraid of this strange object from +another world that could rest upon the bottom of the ocean and yet be so +far above them. + +Reported "Lost with all on board!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Captain Trigger and a dozen men stood on the boat deck with guns and +revolvers, facing several hundred sullen, determined men and women +from the steerage. Night had not yet fallen; the shadow of the hills, +however, was reaching half way across the oval pool; gloom impenetrable +had settled on the wooded shores. + +With the striking of the Doraine, nearly every one on board was hurled +to the decks. As she heeled over five or six degrees in settling +herself among the rocks, a panic ensued among the ignorant people of the +steerage. They scrambled to their feet and made a rush for the boats, +shouting and screaming in their terror. Other passengers were trampled +under foot and sailors standing by the davits were hurled aside. + +Captain Trigger, anticipating just such a stampede, rushed up with +members of the gun crew. The gaunt, broken old master of the Doraine +drove the horde back from the boats, but as he stood there haranguing +them in good maritime English he could see plainly enough that they were +not to be so easily subdued. The first panic was over, but they were +crazed by the fear that had gripped them for days; they believed that +the ship was soon to sink beneath their feet; safety lay not more than +a hundred yards away,--and it was being denied them by this heartless, +unfeeling despot. + +They were mainly low-caste Portuguese bound for Rio and Bahia, and they +had obeyed him through all those tortuous days out on the deep where +he was the shepherd and they the flock. But now,--now they could well +afford to turn upon and rend him, for he had brought them safe to land +and they no longer owed him anything! + +"My God, I don't want to shoot any of them," groaned the Captain, +steadying himself against the rail. "But they've got guns, and they're +crazy. I--" + +Some one touched his arm, and a firm, decisive voice spoke in his ear. + +"I'm used to handling gangs like this, Captain Trigger. They don't +understand you, but they'll damn soon understand me, if you'll turn the +job over to me. I'm not trying to be officious, sir, and I'm not even +hinting that you can't bring 'em to their senses. I know how to handle +'em and you don't, that's all. They're not sailors, you see. And it +isn't mutiny. They need a boss, sir,--that's what they need. And they +need him damned quick, so if you don't mind saying the word,--they're +ready to make a rush, and if--" + +"Go ahead, Percival,--if you can hold them--" + +"Say no more!" shouted Percival, and stepped resolutely forward. His +hands were bare,--swollen, red and ugly; his eyes were as cold as steel, +his voice as sharp as a keen-edged sword. He spoke in Spanish to the +wavering, threatening horde. + +"You damned, sneaking, low-lived cowards! What sort of swine are you? +Have you no thought for the women you've trampled upon and beaten out of +your path,--your own women, as well as the others,--think of them and +ask yourselves if you are men. I'm in command of this ship now, and, +by God, I'm going to let you get into those boats and start for shore. +Don't cheer! You don't know what's coming to you. I'm going to turn that +cannon on you up there and blow every one of you to hell and gone before +you get fifty feet from the side of this ship. You don't believe that, +eh? Well, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Lieutenant Platt!" He +called over his shoulder in English to the young commander of the gun's +crew. "Get some of your men up there and train that gun so as to blow +these boats to smithereens. Quick!" In a half-whisper to the Captain: +"It's all right. I know what I'm talking about." Then to the crowd: +"We don't want you on board this ship a minute longer than we can help. +We've got no room for dogs here among decent white men and women. Do +you understand that? We don't want to have anything more to do with you, +either here or on shore. I'm going to wipe you out, every damned one of +you,--men women and children. You're not fit to live. You're going to +climb into those boats now and get off this ship. You'll never realize +how safe you are here till you get down there in the water and hear that +gun go off. Come on! Get a move! We're through with you, now and for +ever. Nobody's going to stop you. I'm even going to have the boats +lowered for you, so as not to delay matters." He shouted after +Lieutenant Platt: "Be lively, please. You've got your orders. We'll make +short work of this pack of wolves." To Captain Trigger, authoritatively: +"Withdraw your men, sir. I am going to let them leave the ship. At once, +sir! Do you mean to disobey me, sir?" He gave the captain a sly wink. + +Then as the bewildered master withdrew with his armed men, he turned +once more to the mob. "Come on! Step lively, now! No rushing! Take your +turn. Every blasted one of you, I mean. What the hell are you hanging +back for,--you? You were so darned eager to go a little while ago, +what's the matter with you now? No one's trying to stop you. Here are +the boats. Put up your guns and knives, and pile in. You're absolutely +free to go, you swine. We'll be damned good and rid of you, and that's +all we're asking. It's a pity to waste powder and cannon-balls on you, +when we may have use for all we've got later on, killing the lions and +tigers and anacondas up there in the woods, but I'm going to do it." + +He stepped back. Not a man or woman moved. They stood transfixed, packed +in a huddled mass along the deck. Then a woman cried out for mercy. The +cry was taken up by other women. Percival halted and faced them once +more. + +"Get into those boats!" he roared savagely. "It won't do you a bit of +good to whine and pray and squeal. I'm through with you. You've got +to--Well?" + +Several of the men edged forward, some of them trying to smile. + +"Would you kill us when we are only trying to save our lives?" called +out one of them, finding his courage and voice. + +"I don't want to talk to you. Get in!" + +"We have as much right to remain on this ship as anybody else," shouted +another. "We paid for our passage. We are honest, hard-working--" + +"No use! I'll give you ten minutes to climb into those boats." + +There was a moment's silence. "And what will you do if we refuse to +leave the ship?" cried one of the men. + +"Be quiet!" he bawled at the whimpering women. "We cannot hear what the +gentleman has to say." + +"You'll soon find out what I'll do, if you don't obey me inside of ten +minutes," replied Percival. + +"But the ship is not going to sink any more," protested another, looking +over the rail timidly. "She is safe. We do not wish to leave now." + +Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott joined Percival. In an undertone he told +them what he had said to the mob. + +"And now, gentlemen," he whispered in conclusion, "it's up to you to +intercede in their behalf. They're as tame as rabbits now. They know +the ship's all right, and they believe I intend to blow 'em to pieces +if they once put off in the boats. Start in now, Captain, and argue with +me. Plead for them. They know who I am. They know I come from the hills +and they think I'm a bloodthirsty devil. They're like a lot of cattle. +Most of them are simple, honest, God-fearing people,--and if we handle +them properly now we'll not have much trouble with them in the future. +And only the Good Lord knows what the future is going to bring." + +So the three of them argued, two against one. Finally Percival threw up +his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + +"All right, Captain. I give in. Perhaps you are right. I suppose it +would be butchery." + +There were a few in the crowd who understood English. These edged +forward eagerly, hopefully. They called out protestations against the +"slaughter." + +"Tell them you have reconsidered, Mr. Percival," said the Captain. "They +are to remain on board." + +Excited shouts went up from the few who understood, and then the word +went among the others that they were to be spared. There were cries of +relief, joy, gratitude, and not a few fell upon their knees! + +Percival stood forth once more. Silence fell upon the throng. + +"The Captain has put in a plea for you, and I have decided to grant it. +You may remain on board. Now, listen to me! No one is to leave this +ship until tomorrow morning. We are safe here. We are stuck fast on the +bottom, and nothing can happen to us at present. Tomorrow we will see +what is best to be done. Every man and woman here is to return to the +task he was given by Mr. Mott at the beginning of our troubles. We've +got to eat, and sleep, and--Wait a minute! Well, all right,--beat it, if +you feel that way about it." + +He stood watching them as they excitedly withdrew toward the bow of the +ship, breaking up into clattering groups, all of them talking at once. + +Captain Trigger laid his hand on the young man's shoulder. + +"If it had not been for you, Percival, this deck would now be red +with blood,--and some of us would be dead. You saved a very ticklish +situation. I take off my hat to you, and I say, with a full heart, that +I shall never again doubt your ability to handle men. No one but an +American could have tricked that mob as you did, my lad." + +From various points of vantage the foregoing scene had been witnessed by +uneasy, alarmed persons from upper cabins. Overwhelmed and dismayed by +the rush of the yelling mob, the elect had fled for safety, urged by a +greater fear than any that had gone before,--the fear of rioting men. + +A few of them, more daring and inquisitive than the rest, had ventured +recklessly into the zone of danger. Among them were Ruth Clinton and +Madame Olga Obosky, who, disregarding the command of Mr. Mott, were the +only women to venture beyond the protecting corner of the deck building. +They stood side by side, bracing themselves against the downward slope +of the deck. Half-way forward were Trigger and the armed gunners, +and beyond them the dense, irresolute mass of humanity. Percival, in +rounding the corner to go to the assistance of Captain Trigger, observed +with dismay the exposed position in which the two women had placed +themselves. He paused to cry out to them sharply: + +"What are you doing here? Get back to the other side. Can't you see +there is likely to be shooting? Don't stand there like a couple of +idiots! You're right in line if that gang begins to fire." + +"He is tearing off his bandages," cried Ruth, as Percival hurried on. + +Madame Obosky was silent, her gaze fixed intently on the brisk, +aggressive figure of the man who had called them idiots. She understood +every word he uttered to the Portuguese. Her eyes glistened with pride +when he stepped forward to tackle the mob single-handed, and as he went +on with his astonishing speech she actually broke into a soft giggle. +Her companion looked at her in amazement. + +"Why do you laugh?" she demanded hotly. "Those dreadful creatures may +tear him to pieces. He is unarmed and defenceless. They could sweep +him--" + +"You would laugh also if you understood," interrupted Olga, her +eyes dancing. "Oh, what a grand--what do you call it?--bluff? What a +magnificent bluff he is doing! It is beautiful. See,--they whisper among +themselves,--they have back down completely. Wait! I will presently tell +you what he have said to them." + +"I never dreamed any man could be so fearless. Look at the odds against +him. There are scores of them,--and they--" + +"Pooh! Do you suppose he would stand up and fight them if they rushed at +him? Not he! He would turn and run as fast as he could. He is no fool, +my dear. He is a very intelligent man. So he would run if they make a +single move toward him." + +"I think this is rather a poor time to accuse him of cowardice, Madame +Obosky, in view of what he--" + +"Have I accused him of cowardice?" + +"I'd like to know what you call it. You say he would run if they--" + +"But that would not be cowardice. It would be the simplest kind of +common sense. He is so very sure of himself. It is not courage. It is +confidence. That is his strength. He would be a fool to stand in front +of them empty-handed if they were to charge upon him. Maybe when +you have known him as long as I have, you will realize he is not a +fool,--about himself or any one else." + +Ruth stared at her. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, Madame Obosky, I have +known Mr. Percival as long if not longer than you have." + +"You do not know him at all," rejoined the Russian brusquely. "Be still, +please! I must hear what he is saying to them now." A little later she +turned to the American girl and laid her hand on her arm. "For-give me, +if I was rude to you. I am so very much older than you that I--how old +are you, Miss Clinton?" + +"I am twenty-five," replied the other, surprised into replying. + +"And I am twenty-six," said Madame Obosky, as if she were at least twice +the age of her companion. "See! They are dispersing. It's all over. +Come! Let us go back to the other side." + +"I am not ready to go back to the other side," protested the American +girl, resisting the hand on her arm. "Why should we go back, now that +the danger is over?" + +"Because we must not let him catch us here," urged Olga in some +agitation. + +"And why not, pray?" + +The Russian looked at her in astonishment. "But surely you heard him +tell us to go back to the other side. You heard him call us idiots, Miss +Clinton?" + +And Ruth Clinton suffered herself to be hurried incontinently around the +corner of the deck building. + +"Once, in Moscow, I saw a Grand Duke confront a mob of students who had +gathered in the street near his house. They were armed and they had +come to destroy this man himself. There were hundreds of them. He walked +straight toward them, his head erect, his shoulders squared, and +when they stopped he spoke to them as if they were dogs. When he had +finished, he turned his back upon them and walked away. They might have +filled him with bullets,--but they did not fire a shot. At the corner +he entered his carriage and disappeared. And then what did he do? He +fainted, that Grand Duke, he did. Fainted like a stupid, silly young +girl. But while he was standing before zat---that mob of terrorists he +was the strongest man in Russia. Nevertheless, he was afraid of them. +You have therefore the curious spectacle to perceive, Miss Clinton, of +one man being afraid of hundreds, and of hundreds of men at the same +time being afraid of one. Man, he is a queer animal, eh?" + +It was not long before the doubts and fears of all on board the Doraine +gave way to a strange, unnatural state of exhilaration. It represented +joy without happiness, relief without security, exultation without +conviction,--for, after all, there still remained unanswered the +question that robbed every sensation of its thrill. While they were +singing the hymns of thanksgiving in the saloon that night, and +listening to the fervent prayers; while they ate, drank and were merry, +their thoughts were not of the day but of the morrow. What of the +morrow? In the eyes of every one who laughed and sang dwelt the +unchanging shadow of anxiety; on every face was stamped an expression +that spoke more plainly than words the doubts and misgivings that +constituted the background of their jubilation. They had escaped the +sea, but would they ever escape the land? Had God, in answer to their +complaints and prayers, directed them to a land from which the hand of +man would never rescue them? Were they isolated here in the untraversed +southern seas, cast upon an island unknown to the rest of the world? Or +were they, on the other hand, within reach of human agencies by which +the world might be made acquainted with their plight? + +Uppermost in every mind was the sickening recollection, however, that +for days they had ranged the sea without sighting a single craft. They +were far from the travelled lanes, they were out of the worth-while +world. Hope rested solely on the possibility that the hills and forests +hid from view the houses and wharves of a desolate little sea-town set +up by the far-reaching people of the British Isles. + +The story of Percival's achievement was not long in going the rounds. +It went through the customary process of elaboration. By the time it +reached his ears,--through the instrumentality of Mr. Morris Shine, the +motion picture magnate,--it had assumed sufficient magnitude to draw +from that enterprising gentleman a bona fide offer of quite a large sum +for the film rights in case Mr. Percival would agree to re-enact the +thrilling scene later on. In fact, Mr. Shine, having recovered his +astuteness and his courage simultaneously, was already working at the +preliminary details of the most "stupendous" picture ever conceived by +man. His deepest lament now was that he had neglected to bring a good +camera man down from New York, so that on the day of the explosion he +could have "got" the people actually jumping overboard, and drowning in +plain sight--(although he did not see them because of the trouble he +was having to get a seat in one of the life-boats),--and the wounded +scattered over the decks, the fire, the devastation, the departure and +return of the boats, the storm and all that followed, including himself +in certain judiciously preserved scenes, and the whole production could +have been made at practically no cost at all. There never had been +such an opportunity, complained Mr. Shine the moment he felt absolutely +certain that the opportunity was a thing of the past. + +"No wonder he got away with it," said Mr. Landover to a group of +rejuvenated satellites. "He is hand in glove with them, that fellow is. +I wouldn't trust him around the corner. Why, it's perfectly plain to +anybody with a grain of intelligence that he's the leader of that gang +of anarchists. All he had to do was to speak to them,--in their own +language, mind you,--and back they slunk to their quarters. They obeyed +him because he is their chosen leader, and that's all there is to +this--What say, Fitts?" + +Mr. Fitts, who was not a satellite but a very irritating Christian +gentleman, cleared his throat and said: + +"I didn't speak, Mr. Landover. I always make a noise like that when I +yawn. It's an awfully middle-class habit I've gotten into. Still, don't +you think one obtains a little more--shall we say enjoyment?--a little +more enjoyment out of a yawn if he lets go and puts his whole soul into +it? Of course, it isn't really necessary to utter the 'hi-ho-hum!' quite +so vociferously as I do,--in fact, it might even be better to omit it +altogether,--if possible,--when some one else is speaking. There are, I +grant you, other ways of expressing one's complete mastery of the art +of yawning, such as a prolonged but audible sigh, or a sort of muffled +howl, or even a series of blissful little shrieks peculiar to the +feminine of the species,--any one of these, I admit, is a trifle more +elegant and up-to-date, but they all lack the splendid resonance,--you +might even say grandiloquence,--of the old-fashioned 'hi-ho-hum!' to +which I am addicted. Now, if you will consider--" + +"My God!" exclaimed the banker, with a positively venomous emphasis on +the name of the Deity. "Who wants to know anything about yawns?" + +Mr. Fitts looked hurt. "I am sorry. My mistake. I thought you were +trying to change the subject when you interrupted my yawn." + +"That fellow's a damn' fool," said the banker, as Fitts strolled off to +join another group. + +"Try one of these cigars, Mr. Landover," said Mr. Nicklestick +persuasively. "Of course, they're nothing like the kind you smoke, +but--" + +"Is mine out? So it is. No, thank you. I'll take a match, however, if +you have one about you." + +Four boxes were hastily thrust upon the great financier. + +"Haf you noticed how poor the matches are lately, Mr. Landover?" +complained Mr. Block. + +"As for this vagabond being superintendent of a mining concession up in +Bolivia," continued Landover, absentmindedly sticking Mr. Nicklestick's +precious, box of matches into his own pocket, "that's all poppycock. +He's an out-and-out adventurer. You can't fool me. I've handled too many +men in my time. I sized him up right from the start. But the devil of it +is, he's got all the officers on this boat hypnotized. And most of the +women too. I made it a point to speak to Mrs. Spofford and her niece +about him this morning,--and the poor girl has been making quite a fool +of herself over him, you may have observed. Mrs. Spofford owns quite a +block of stock in our institution, so I considered it my duty to put a +flea in her ear, if you see what I mean." + +"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Nicklestick. + +"She should have been very grateful," said Mr. Block. + +Mr. Landover frowned. "I'm going to speak to her again as soon as she +has regained her strength and composure. Nerves all shot to pieces, you +understand. Everything distorted,--er--shot to pieces, as I say. I dare +say I should have had more sense than to--er--ahem!--two or three days' +rest, that's what she needs, poor thing." + +"Absolutely," said Mr. Nicklestick. + +"You can't tell a woman anything when she's upset," said Mr. Block, +feelingly. + +"Miss Clinton is a very charming young lady," said Mr. Nicklestick, +giving his moustache a slight twist. "I should hate to see her lose her +head over a fellow like him." + +"She is a splendid girl," said Landover warmly. "One of the oldest +families in New York. She deserves nothing but the best." + +"That's right, that's right," assented Mr. Nicklestick. "I don't know +when I've met a more charming young lady, Mr. Landover." + +"I didn't know you had met her," observed the banker coldly. + +"Oh, yes," replied Mr. Nicklestick. "We were in the same lifeboat, Mr. +Landover, you know,--all night, you know, Mr. Landover." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Early the next morning, Percival turned out long before there were any +sounds from the galley or dining-room. The sun had not yet cleared the +tree-tops to the east; the decks of the Doraine were still wet with dew. +A few sailors were abroad; a dull-eyed junior officer moodily picked +his way through the debris on the forward deck. Birds were singing and +chattering in the trees that lined the shore; down at the water's edge, +like sentinels on duty, with an eye always upon the strange, gigantic +intruder, strutted a number of stately, bright-plumaged birds of the +flamingo variety--(doubtless they were flamingoes); the blue surface of +the basin was sprinkled with the myriad white, gleaming backs of winged +fishermen, diving, flapping, swirling; on high, far above the hills, +soared two or three huge birds with wings outspread and rigid, monarchs +of all that they surveyed. The stowaway leaned on the port rail and +fixed his gaze upon the crest of the severed hill, apparently the +tallest of the half dozen or so that were visible from his position. + +With powerful glasses he studied the wooded slope. This hill was +probably twelve or fourteen hundred feet high. He thought of it as a +hill, for he had lived long in the heart of the towering Andes. Behind +him lay the belt of woodland that separated the basin from the open +sea, a scant league away. The cleft through the hill lay almost directly +ahead. It's walls apparently were perpendicular; a hundred feet or +less from the pinnacle, the opening spread out considerably, indicating +landslides at some remote period, the natural sloughing off of earth +and stone in the formation of this narrow, unnatural passage through +the very centre of the little mountain. For at least a thousand feet, +however, the sides of the passage rose as straight as a wall. That the +mountain was of solid rock could not be doubted after a single glance at +those sturdy, unflinching walls, black and sheer. + +"Well, what do you make of it?" inquired a voice at his elbow. He turned +to find Mr. Mott standing beside him. + +"Earthquake," he replied. "Thousands of years ago, of course. Split the +island completely in two." + +"Sounds plausible," mused the First Officer. "But if that is the case, +how do you account for the shallowness of the water in the passage and +out here in the basin? An earthquake violent enough to split that hill +would make a crack in the earth a thousand fathoms deep." + +"I have an idea that if we took soundings in this basin we'd find a +section twenty or thirty feet wide in the centre of it where we couldn't +touch bottom. The same would be true of the passage if we plumbed the +middle. When we came through it the ship scraped bottom time and again. +As a matter of fact,--the way I figure it out,--she was simply bumping +against the upper edges of a crevice that reaches down God knows how +far. We took no soundings, you will remember, until we swung out into +this pool. I'll bet my head that that cut through the hill yonder is a +mile deep. Earthquake fissures seldom go deeper than that, I've heard. +Generally they are mere surface cracks, a hundred feet deep at the +outside. But this one,--My God, it gives me the creeps, that crack in +the earth does." + +"Umph!" said Mr. Mott, his elbows on the rail beside the young man, his +chin in his hands. He was looking down at the water. "Captain Trigger is +planning to send a couple of boats outside to survey the coast. I +dare say he'll be asking you to go out in one of them. You're a civil +engineer and so he feels--" + +"Excuse me, Mr. Mott, but what's the sense of sending boats out to +explore the coast before we find out how big the island is?" + +"What's the sense? Why, how are we to find out how big the island is +unless we make the circuit of it? And how in thunder are we to find out +that there isn't a village or some sort of trading port on it--What are +you pointing up there for?" + +Percival's finger was levelled at the top of the higher half of the +bisected mountain. + +"See that hill, Mr. Mott? Well, unless we're on a darned sight bigger +island than I think we are, we can see from one end of it to the other +from the top of that hill. It isn't much of a climb. A few huskies with +axes to cut a path through the underbrush, and we might get up there in +a few hours. I've been figuring it out. That's why I got up so early. +Had it on my mind all night. The sensible thing to do is to send a gang +of us up there to have a look around. Strange Captain Trigger never +thought of it. I suppose it's because he's an old sea-dog and not a +landlubber." + +Mr. Mott coughed. "I fancy he would have thought of it in good time." + +"Well, in case he doesn't think of it in time, you might suggest it to +him, Mr. Mott." + +The result of this conversation was the formation of a party of +explorers to ascend the mountain. They were sent ashore soon after +breakfast, well-armed, equipped with axes and other implements, +boat-hooks, surveying instruments, and the most powerful glasses on +board. Percival was in command. The party was made up of a dozen +men, half of them from the gun crew, with an additional complement of +laborers from the steerage. + +Ruth Clinton, as soon as she learned of the proposed expedition, sought +out Percival and insisted upon re-bandaging his hands. + +"You must not go into all that tangle of brushwood with your hands +unprotected," she declared, obstinately shaking her head in response to +his objections. "Don't be foolish, Mr. Percival. It won't take me five +minutes to wrap them up. Sit down,--I insist. You are still one of my +patients. Hold out your hand!" + +"They are ever so much better," he protested, but he obeyed her. + +"Of course they are," she agreed, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You did +not give me a chance last night to tell you how splendid you were in +tackling that crazy mob. I witnessed it all, you know. Madame Obosky and +I." + +"Then, you didn't beat it when I told you to, eh?" + +"Certainly not. What are you going to do about it?" + +"What can I do? I can only say this: I'm glad Captain Trigger's opinion +of me is based on my ability to reason with an ignorant mob and not on +my power to intimidate a couple of very intelligent young women." + +"I wouldn't have missed it for worlds," she said coolly. She looked up +into his eyes, a slight frown puckering her brow. "Do you know, Madame +Obosky had the impertinence to say that you would have turned tail and +fled if those people had shown fight." + +He grinned. "She's an amazing person, isn't she? Wonderful faculty for +sizing the most of us up." + +"You would have run?" + +"Like a rabbit," he answered, unabashed. "That's a little too tight, I +think, Miss Clinton. Would you mind loosening it up a bit?" + +"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that better? Now the other one, please." + +"Yes, I'm an awful coward," he said, after a long silence. + +She looked up quickly. Something in his eyes brought a faint flush to +her cheek. For a second or two she met his gaze steadily and then her +eyes fell, but not before he had caught the shy, wondering expression +that suddenly filled them. He experienced an almost uncontrollable +desire to lay his clumsy hand upon the soft, smooth brown hair. Through +his mind flashed a queer rush of comparison. He recalled the +dark, knowing eyes of the Russian dancer, mysterious and +seductive,--man-reading eyes from which nothing was concealed,--and +contrasted them with the clear, honest, blue-grey orbs that still could +fall in sweet confusion. His heart began to pound furiously, he felt a +queer tightening of the throat. He was afraid to trust his voice. How +white and soft and gentle were her hands,--and how beautiful they were. + +Suddenly she stroked the bandaged hand,--as an amiable manicurist might +have done--and arose. + +"There!" she said, composedly. Her cheek was cool and unflushed, her +eyes serene and smiling. "Now you may go, Mr. Percival. Good luck! Bring +back good news to us. I dreamed last night that we were marooned, that +we would have to stay here for ever." + +"All of us?" he asked, a trifle thickly. + +"Certainly," she replied, after the moment required for comprehension. +Her eyes were suddenly cold and uncompromising. + +"If I never come back," he began, somewhat dashed, "I'd like you to +remember always, Miss Clinton, that I--well, that I am the most grateful +dog alive. You've been corking." + +"But it isn't possible you won't come back," she cried, and he was happy +to see a flicker of alarm in her eyes. "What--what could happen to you? +It isn't--" + +"Oh, all sorts of things," he broke in, much in the same spirit as that +which dominates the boy who wishes he could die in order to punish his +parents for correcting him. + +"Are--are you really in earnest?" + +"Would you care--very much?" + +She hesitated. "Haven't I wished you good luck, Mr. Percival?" + +"Would you mind answering my question?" + +"Of course I should care,--very much indeed," she replied calmly. "I am +sure that everybody would be terribly grieved if anything were to happen +to you out there." + +"Well,--good-bye, Miss Clinton. I guess they're waiting for me." + +"Good-bye! Oh, how I wish I were in your place! Just to put my foot +on the blessed, green earth once more. Good-bye! And--and good luck, +again." + +"If you will take a pair of glasses and watch the top of that +hill,--there is a bare knob up there, you see,--you will know long +before we come back whether this island is inhabited or not. I am +taking an American flag with me. If we do not see another flag floating +anywhere on this island, I intend to plant the Stars and Stripes on that +hill,--just for luck!" + +She walked a few steps at his side, their bodies aslant against the +slope of the deck. + +"And if you do not raise the flag, we shall know at once that--that +there are other people here?" she said, her voice eager with suppressed +excitement. "It will mean that ships--" Her voice failed her. + +"It will mean home,--some day," he returned solemnly. + +The one remaining port-side boat was lowered a few minutes later and to +the accompaniment of cheers from the throng that lined the rails, the +men pulled away, heading for a tiny cove on the far side of the +basin. The shore at that point was sloping and practically clear of +undergrowth. + +It was while Percival was waiting to take his place in the boat that +Olga Obosky hurried up to him. + +"I have brought my luck piece for you," she said, and revealed in her +open palm a small gold coin, worn smooth with age and handling. +"Carry it, my friend. Nothing will happen to you while it is in your +possession. It was given me by the son of a Grand Duke. It was his lucky +piece. It brought me luck, for he was killed zat very same day, and so I +was saved from him. Keep it in your pocket till you come safely back and +then--then you shall return it to me, because I would not be without my +luck, no." She slipped her hand deep into his trousers pocket. "There is +no hole. That is good. I have place it there. It is safe. Au revoir! You +will have good luck, my friend." + +Withdrawing her warm hand from his pocket she turned and walked swiftly +away. + +The throng on board the Doraine watched the party land; hats and +handkerchiefs were waved as the adventurers turned for a last look +behind, before they disappeared into the forest. + +Hours passed,--long interminable hours for those who were not engaged +in the active preparations for the landing of people and stores. Captain +Trigger was making ready to transfer the passengers from the ship at the +earliest possible moment. He was far from certain that the Doraine would +maintain its rather precarious balance on the rocks. With safety not +much more than a stone's throw away, he was determined to take no +further risk. + +At last a shout went up from some one on the forecastle deck. It was +taken up by eager voices. Out upon the bald crest of the mountain +straggled the first of the explorers to reach the goal. They were +plainly visible. One after another the rest of the party appeared. The +illusion was startling. It was as if they had actually emerged from the +tree-tops. With straining eyes the observers below watched the group of +figures outlined against the sky. They spoke in subdued tones. As time +went on and the flag was not unfurled, they took hope; eyes brightened, +the hushed tones increased to a cheerful, excited clatter, the tenseness +that had held them rigid for so long gave way before the growing +conviction that another flag already fluttered somewhere beyond the +screening hills. + +And then, when hope was highest, the Stars and Stripes went up! + +Captain Trigger assembled the ship's company on the forward deck later +in the day. The landing party returned about three o'clock. Acting on +advance instructions, they made their report in private to the Captain, +denying all information to the clamorous passengers. A brief conference +of officers, to which a number of men from the first cabin were invited, +was held immediately after Percival's return. A course of action was +discussed and agreed upon, and then all on board were summoned to the +open deck to hear the result of the expedition. + +Percival reported the following facts and conclusions: + +1. The island was approximately fifteen miles long and six or seven +miles wide in the centre. The basin in which the Doraine rested was +about midway between the extreme points, and about two miles inland from +the northern shore. The southern slope of the range descended to a flat +plain, or perhaps moor, some two miles across at its broadest point and +ran in varying width from one end of the island to the other. It was +green and almost entirely devoid of timber. The central eminence from +which the observations were taken was the loftiest of a range of ten or +twelve diminishing hills that formed what might actually be described as +the backbone of the island. The eastern extremity tapered off to a +long, level, low-lying promontory that ended in a point so sharp and +wedge-like that it bore a singular resemblance to the forward deck and +prow of a huge ironclad. The hills, as they approached the plateau, +terminated altogether a couple of miles from the tip of land. The +western half of the island (strictly speaking, it was a separate bit of +land, cut off from its neighbour by the ribbon-like channel), was of +a more rugged character, the hills, in fact, extending to the sea, +forming, no doubt, steep and precipitous cliffs, rising directly from +the water's edge. + +(Since his return, Percival had painted on a large piece of canvas a +fairly accurate outline map of the bisected island as it had appeared +to him from the top of the mountain. This crude map was hung up in full +view of the spectators, and served him well in an effort to make clear +his deductions. His original sketch is reproduced later on in this +chronicle.) + +2. There was no visible sign of past or present human habitation. +Absolutely nothing appeared to indicate that man had ever attempted to +claim or occupy this virgin land. + +3. The channel through the mountain was less than one hundred feet wide. +The walls of this gorge at one point were fully seven hundred feet high, +absolutely perpendicular, and of solid rock. It was as if the hill had +been split wide open with one blow of a tremendous broad-ax. Beyond the +elevation the channel spread out fan-fashion, creating a funnel-like bay +or inlet from the sea. + +4. There was no other land in sight. As far as the eye could reach with +the aid of lenses there was nothing but water, a mighty waste of water. + +5. The wind, which had veered around to the south, was cold and dry. + +6. A curving beach of almost snowy whiteness extended for a mile or so +along the northern shore, about half way between the entrance to the +channel and the eastern point of land. Inside the fringe of trees that +lined this beach stretched what appeared to be a long strip of rolling +meadow-land, reaching far up the hillsides. + +7. Monkeys, parrots and snakes abounded in the forest. An occasional +gay-plumaged bird of the toucan variety, but larger than the ordinary +South American species, was seen, while large numbers of plump birds of +the tinamou family went drumming off through the forest at the approach +of the party. Penguins strutted in complete "full dress" among the rocks +of the southern shore. A dead armadillo of extraordinary dimensions was +found near the foot of the slope. It was at least thrice the size of +the common South American mammal. The same could be said of the single +iguana encountered. This large lizard, which was alive, must have been +fully ten feet from head to tail, and gave rise to the belief that the +supposedly extinct iguanodon, described by the scientists as attaining a +length of thirty feet, might any day be discovered in the fastnesses +of this unexplored land. The mere existence of this rather amiable, +unfrightened monster was of the greatest significance. If it were known +to man, why had it never been reported in zoological or natural history +journals? + +8. The trees on the mountain-side were thick and stunted, with +interlocking limbs that created a sort of endless canopy which the sun +was unable to penetrate. The cool, dry wind that swept the slope would +account, however, for the surprising absence of moisture in soil and +vegetation in the dense shade of the trees. Oak, elm, spruce, even +walnut, and other trees of a sturdy character indigenous to the +temperate zone were identified. What appeared to be a clump of cypress +trees, fantastic, misshapen objects that seemed to, shrink back in +terror from the assaulting breakers, stood out in bold relief upon a +rocky point to the south and west of the observation hill. Their gaunt, +twisted trunks leaned backward from the sea; their shorn limbs, racked +by gales, were raised as if in supplication to the sombre forest behind +them. Trunks of enormous trees that had fallen perhaps a century ago +were found half-buried in the earth, while scattered along the northern +base of the range, overlooking the downs, a few of their gigantic +counterparts, alive and flourishing, raised their lofty heads far above +the surrounding forest, and stood like sentinels, guarding the plain. + +9. A small river wound its devious way, with serpentine crooks and +curves, through the downs and across the meadow, emptying into the ocean +some distance east of the gleaming beach. That its source was far up +in the secretive hills was not a matter of conjecture, however; +the incessant hiss and roar of a cataract was plainly heard by the +investigators. + +Here is the crude, hastily sketched map of the island as made by +Percival: + +1. Position of stranded vessel in basin. + +2. Entrance to channel from the north. + +3. Entrance to channel from the south. + +4. Narrow strip of woodland from channel almost to river's mouth. + +5. Strip of meadow-land clear of trees. + +6. River. + +7. Stretch of lowland leading down to the water. + +8. Crest of hill from which observations were taken with range extending +east and west. + +9. Point of rocks with cypress trees. + +10. Buttress-like west end of island. + +11. Dense forest reaching to channel. + +12. Rocky cape. + +13. Level plateau, without trees. + +14. Beach. + +15. Penguins. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +After the second reading of the foregoing report, the first being +in English, Percival requested his fellow explorers to verify the +statements contained therein. This they did promptly. He then went on: + +"I am delegated by Captain Trigger and the officers of this vessel, +after a conference just concluded,--and of which you are all well +aware,--to put before you as briefly and as clearly as possible the +decision that has been reached. I may as well confess in the beginning +that this decision is based on the recommendations of the party who went +to the top of the mountain. It is out of the question for the people on +board this vessel to go ashore until further investigations have been +made. For the present, we are all safe here on board the ship. We +don't know what perils exist in the absolutely unexplored country that +surrounds us. Additional parties are to be sent out to explore the +island, especially the eastern section of it. There is no use mincing +matters. We are confronted by a very plain situation. It is possible, +even probable, that we are the first human beings ever to set foot on +this land. If that be true, we are now so far out of the path of the few +ships and steamers sailing these southern seas that there is small hope +or chance of a speedy rescue. As a matter of fact, it isn't likely that +we will be discovered until the island itself is discovered, if you see +what I mean. + +"There isn't the slightest chance that the ship we're now standing on +will ever float again. Even if the engines could be put in order,--and +that is possible, I am told,--the vessel cannot be raised. If anybody +has been nursing that sort of hope, he may as well get rid of it. +It's no good. We are here to stay, unless help comes from the outside. +There's the plain English of it. We may have to live here on this +island, like poor old Robinson Crusoe, for years,--for a great many +years. I'm going to stop just a few seconds to let that soak into your +brains. We've got to face it. We've got to make the best of it. It is +not for Captain Trigger or me or any one else to say that we will not +be taken off this island some time--maybe sooner than we think. Whaling +vessels must visit these parts. That's neither here nor there. We've got +our work cut out for us, friends. We've got to think of the present and +let the future take care of itself. Now, here are the facts. We cannot +remain on board this wreck. We've got to go to work, every man, woman +and child of us. I don't know what can be cultivated on this island, but +we've got to find out, and when we find out we've got to begin raising +it. If we don't, my friends, we'll starve to death in a very short time. +And what's more, if we do not get out there and put up houses to live +in, we'll freeze to death when winter comes along. + +"According to calculations, winter is still five or six months away. We +won't get it, I dare say, before next April or May. All you have to do +is to take a look at all these trees around here to realize that we are +a long way from the tropics. It gets as cold as blazes here in the dead +of winter, I can tell you that. We've got to build homes. We've got to +build a camp,--not a flimsy, half-way sort of camp, but a good, solid, +substantial one, my friends. There is what you might call a minority +report in regard to the situation. Captain Trigger asked me to speak +for him and others who look at it as I do. Mr. Landover, who is, I +understand, one of the leading bankers in the United States of America, +contends that we are well enough off as we are, on board the Doraine, +where we've got cabins and beds and shelter from the elements. He may be +right. All I have to say to him is this,--I don't believe I mentioned +it at this conference, Mr. Landover, simply because I'm one of those +unhappy individuals who always think of the brilliant things I might +have said when it's too late to say them,--all I have to say is this: if +Mr. Landover and his supporters expect to sit snugly on this ship while +the rest of us build houses and plant crops, and then conclude to come +out and bone the rest of us for a square meal and a nice warm place to +sleep, they are going to be badly fooled. We're all equal here. A couple +of million dollars, more or less, doesn't cut any ice on this little +island. What counts here is muscle and commonsense and a willingness to +use both. + +"A little while ago I asked Mr. Landover how much money he has with him. +He informed me that while it wasn't any of my business, he has about +five hundred dollars in American money and a couple of hundred pesos +besides, but that his letter of credit is still good for fifteen +thousand. Mr. Nicklestick has about five hundred dollars in money, +and so has Mr. Block and one or two others. They've all got letters +of credit, express checks, and so forth, and I suppose there is a +wheelbarrow full of jewellery on board this ship. Now, if money is to +talk down here, I wish to state that the men and women from the steerage +have got more real dough than all the first and second cabins put +together. They haven't any letters of credit or bank accounts in New +York, but there are a dozen men in the steerage who have as much as two +or three thousand pesos sewed up inside their clothes. So far as I can +make out, the only people who can afford to hire anybody to build a +hut for them, and pay for it in real money, are the plutocrats from the +steerage. + +"Mr. Landover's letter of credit is good for fifteen thousand if he ever +gets back to New York, but it isn't worth fifteen cents here. His life +is insured for one million dollars, I am told. I don't know who the +beneficiaries are, but, whoever they are, they are going to put in a +claim for the million if he doesn't show up in New York pretty shortly. +He is going to be declared officially dead, and so are all the rest of +us, after a reasonable time has elapsed. Now, I don't say that we are +never going to be rescued. We may be found inside of a month. Some of us +don't quite realize the fix we are in. Mr. Codge, the purser, was saying +a little while ago that a lady from the first cabin nearly took his head +off when he told her it was impossible to send a cable message to her +people in Boston. A number of passengers have already demanded that +their passage money be refunded. + +"You have doubtless heard how I came to be on board this steamer. I am +a stowaway. I have no standing among you. I haven't a penny in my +pocket,--aside from a luck-piece that doesn't belong to me. I wanted to +get back to the States so that I could carry a gun or something over in +France. I wanted to fight for my country. I wasn't thinking very much +about my life when I started for home and France, but I want to say that +I'm thinking about it now. I don't intend to starve or freeze to death +if I can help it. I am going to fight for my life, not for my country. + +"This is no time to be sentimental. It is no time to sit down and pity +ourselves or each other. God knows I am just as sorry for myself as you +are for yourselves, but that isn't going to get me anywhere. We've got +to work. That means all of us. It means the women as well as the men. +It means the women with soft, white hands and the men who never did a +stroke of manual labour in their lives, just as much as it means the +people who have never done anything else but work. Something will be +found for every one of us to do, and, ladies and gentlemen, we will have +to do it without whining. + +"Captain Trigger is accountable for the cargo on board this ship. +Naturally he is opposed to our confiscating anything that has been +entrusted to him for safe delivery. He takes a very sensible attitude, +however. He will officially protest against the removal of anything from +the hold of his vessel, but he will not employ force to resist us when +we begin to land stores, foodstuffs and all that sort of thing. He +understands the situation perfectly. + +"Now, here is what we will have to do. We must select a site for our +camp,--or town, you may well say,--and we must build upon it without +delay. That is to be our first step. Details will come later. There are +over six hundred of us here. We represent a fair-sized village. We have +mechanics, carpenters, farmers, surveyors, masons,--and merchants, to +say nothing of cooks, housekeepers, and so on. The ship contains all +sorts of tools to work with, canvas for temporary quarters, beds and +bedding, cooking utensils,--in fact, we have everything that Robinson +Crusoe didn't have, and besides all that, we've got each other. We are +not alone on a desert island. We are, my friends, as well off as the +Pilgrims who landed on Plymouth Rock, and we are better off than the +hardy colonists who laid the foundation for the country that flies +that flag up there. Centuries ago bold adventurers set out to discover +unknown lands. They were few in number and poorly equipped. But they +ventured into the wilderness and built villages that grew to be cities. +They went through a thousand hardships that we will never know, and they +survived. + +"Captain Trigger and the others selected me to make this talk to +you because I have had some practical experience in establishing and +developing a camp, such as we will have to build. Experience has taught +me one thing above all others: work, hard work of a constructive nature, +is our only salvation. Unless we occupy ourselves from one day's end to +another in good, hard, honest toil, we will all go mad. That's the long +and the short of it. If we sat still on this boat for thirty days, doing +nothing, we'd lose our minds. There isn't a man in this crowd, I am +sure, who wouldn't work his head off to spare the women an hour of +hardship. But the greatest hardship you women could possibly know would +be idleness. There will be work for every one to do, and we can thank +God for it, my friends. We will have to work for nothing. We will have +to help each other. There is but one class on this island at present, +and that is the working class. + +"We've all got people at home waiting for us. By this time the whole +world knows that the Doraine is three weeks overdue at Rio Janeiro, and +that no word has been had from her. The ocean is being searched. Our +friends, our relatives are doing everything in their power to get trace +of this lost ship. You may depend on that. In a little while,--a few +weeks, at best,--the ship will be given up for lost. We will be counted +as dead, all of us. That's a hard, cruel thing for me to say, and I hate +to say it,--but we've just got to realize the position we're in. It's +best that we should look at it from the worst possible angle. I do not +speak jestingly when I say that we may as well consider ourselves dead +and forgotten. I am as full of hope and confidence as anybody and I am +an optimist if there ever was one, but I don't work on the theory that +God takes any better care of an optimist than He does of a pessimist. + +"It will require months, maybe years, for us to construct a ship, and +even then it will not be big enough to transport all of us. The most we +can hope for is a craft that will be stout enough to go out and bring +help to the rest of us. I am trying, at Captain Trigger's suggestion, +to convince you that we can't build a ship, that we can't expect to get +away from this island by our own endeavours, unless we go about it in +the proper and sensible way. That means, first of all, that we must +safeguard ourselves against time. We've got to live and we've got to +keep our strength. + +"Mr. Landover has made a very generous proposition. He agrees to give a +hundred thousand dollars to any boat's crew that will take one of these +lifeboats and make port somewhere. He fails to mention the compensation +they are to receive if they never make port. He forgets that this big +ship floundered around for a good many days without sighting anything +but water. He would have been perfectly safe in offering a hundred +million dollars, because he would never be called upon to pay it. I +understand, however, that his offer still stands. + +"Tomorrow morning surveying parties will be sent ashore to look for a +possible site for our town. Volunteers will undertake this work. As soon +as possible thereafter a temporary camp will be set up, and practically +every one on board will be moved from this ship. Captain Trigger and +a few chosen men will remain on board. It is his wish, ladies and +gentlemen. He is the captain of the Doraine. He will not leave her. We +are all here today, and alive, because Captain Trigger would not leave +his ship. We owe our lives to him. This is not the time to propose three +cheers for the gallant master of the Doraine. It is not the time to +cheer for anybody or for anything. We do not feel like cheering. +We've done all the praying that is necessary, we've offered up all the +thanksgiving that the situation calls for, so now we've got to roll up +our sleeves and go to work." + +He, stepped down from the gun-platform. There were no cheers. Every +voice was stilled, every face was set. Many seconds passed before there +was even the slightest stir among those who had listened so intently. + +Then the few English-speaking people from the steerage began to whisper +hoarsely to their bewildered companions. + + + + + + +BOOK TWO + +CHAPTER I. + + +The warm, summer season was well-advanced in this far southern land +before the strenuous, tireless efforts of the marooned settlers began to +show definite results. + +Some six weeks after the stranding of the Doraine, staunch log cabins +were in course of completion along the base of the hills overlooking the +clear, rolling meadow-land to the north and east. Down in the lowlands +scores of men were employed in sowing and planting. The soil was rich. +Farmers and grain-raisers among the passengers were unanimously of +the opinion that almost any vegetable, cereal or fruit indigenous +to Argentina (or at the worst, Patagonia), could be produced here. +Uncertainty as to the duration of the warm period, so vital to the +growing and maturing of crops, was the chief problem. No time was to be +lost if there were to be harvests before the cold and blighting weather +set in. + +It was extremely doubtful if the spring and summer seasons combined +covered more than five months in this latitude. Assuming that the +climate in this open part of the world was anything like that of the +Falkland Islands, the rainy season was overdue. Midwinter usually comes +in July, with the temperature averaging between 35 deg. and 10 deg. +above zero over a period of four or five months. At the time of the +wreck, the thermometers were registering about 70 deg. during the day, +and dropping to 50 deg. or thereabouts after nightfall. This would +indicate that spring was fairly well-advanced, and that midsummer might +be figured on as coming in January. It was now the end of November. Warm +weather probably would last until February or March. Possibly they +would be too late with their planting, but they went about it speedily, +determinedly, just the same. + +All of them had had crop failures before. All of them had seen the +labour of months go for naught in the blight of an evening's frost, or +the sweep of a prairie fire. So here on this virgin isle, in soil whose +sod had never been turned, they sowed from the bins of the slumbering +ship. Wheat and oats and flax, brought from the Argentina plains; +potatoes, squash and beet-root; even beans and peas were tried, but with +small hope. And there were women ready to till the soil and work the +gardens, women to draw the strangely fashioned ploughshares as willing +beasts of burden, to wield the hoe and spade, and to watch for the +cherished sprout that was to glorify their deeds. + +The ring of the ax resounded in the forest; the clangour of hammer and +nail, the rasp of the saw, the clatter of timber went on from dawn to +dusk,--for there was no eight-hour law in this smiling land, nor +was there any other union save that of staunch endeavour, no other +Brotherhood except that of Man. There was never a question of wage, +never a dispute as to hours, never a thought of strike. Every labourer +was worthy of his hire,--and his hire was food! + +The Doraine was gradually being dismantled. She was being stripped of +every bit of material that could be used in constructing and furnishing +the huts. The new camp lay not more than a mile and a half from the +basin. A road had been cleared through the wood from the small, hastily +constructed dock and runway on the eastern side of the basin to the open +territory beyond. + +Material, supplies, equipment were carried through the densely shaded +avenue, and later on, after the warehouses and granaries had been built, +the leafy lane witnessed the transportation of ton upon ton of stores, +patiently borne in hundredweight lots, in bushel bags, in clumsy +parcels, by men whose work seemed endless; wheat, barley, oats, sugar, +coffee and other commodities entrusted to the steamship company for +delivery in the United States. Tobacco, canned and refrigerated meats, +olives, flour, figs and dates in large quantities were included in the +vast cargo, to say nothing of the enormous supply of canned fruits and +vegetables. Washed wool, tanned leather, homespun cotton and woollen +cloth, silks, hides, furs, rugs, laces, linseed oil, blankets,--all +these came ashore in course of time, but of the sinister treasure that +had inspired the destruction of the ship, i.e., the manganese, +the rubber, the nitrates, the copper bars, and the stacks of high +explosives, not a pound was moved. All this was left for another and +more leisurely day. + +In the end, the once luxurious liner was to be reduced to "skin and +bones," to employ a trite but eminently appropriate phrase. Ultimately +she became a black, unlovely skeleton, bereft of every vestige of her +former opulence. Her decks were torn up and the timbers hauled away to +make floors in the huts; the doors, mirrors, stairways, windows, rails, +carpets, pipes, bathtubs, toilets, lamps, every foot of woodwork from +stem to stern, berths, washbasins, kitchen ranges, boilers,--in fact, +everything that man could make use of was taken from the ship, leaving +nothing of her but a hollow, echoing shell through which the wind howled +or moaned a ghostly requiem. + +Much of this material was carefully stacked or stored away against the +day when it could be utilized in the construction of a small but sturdy +ship, in which a chosen company of sailors were to fare out to sea once +more in search of the world they had lost. + +Tireless and indomitable engineers later on succeeded in transferring +portions of the damaged machinery, including dynamos, to the camp, where +in course of time their skill and ingenuity bade fair to triumph over +seemingly insurmountable difficulties in the matter of restoration. + +Fully six weeks elapsed, however, before the women were allowed to leave +the ship for their new homes on the land, and even then they came but a +few at a time and only as huts were ready and fully equipped to receive +them. Each hut contained a combination kitchen and living-room, with a +single bedchamber. A substantial fireplace, built of stone and mortar, +with a tall chimney at the back, was a feature in every house. The +cracks between the logs, and all chinks, were sealed with thick layers +of mortar; the ceilings, made of stout saplings, were treated in a +similar manner, while the roof, resting on a sturdy ridge-pole, and +securely anchored, was of three layers of poles, interstices mortared +and the whole covered with a vast quantity of seaweed, moss and reeds +held in place by several well-fastened sections of iron railing from the +decks of the Doraine. + +While the huts were uniform in size, shape and construction, there +was nothing to prevent the occupant from subsequently enlarging and +improving his house. For the present, however, the interests of all were +best served by speed and compactness. + +The superintendent of construction was Algernon Adonis Percival. As +a matter of fact, the end of the first week found him occupying the +position of General Manager for the whole enterprise, an unsolicited +honour but one which he was resolved that no one, great or small, +should deride. He had one stormy "run-in," as he described it, with Mr. +Landover and his group of satellites. This occurred about the middle of +their first week on the island when practically every able-bodied man +from the Doraine was at work cutting a way through the forest or in +constructing the dock at the water's edge. As the incident is entitled +to a very definite place in this narrative, a more or less extended +account of it may be given here and now, even at the risk of being +classed as a digression, or a step backward in the sequence of the +history. + +Mr. Landover, Mr. Block, Mr. Nicklestick and two or three other men +were grouped on the after-deck early one morning decrying the brainless +scheme to build a camp out there in the open. Their audience included +several women, among them Mrs. Spofford, Ruth Clinton, Madame +Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky, Mrs. Block and a couple of loquacious Rio +Janeiro ladies. + +Percival bore down upon this group. He wasted no time in getting to the +point. + +"We've been at work for two days out there, gentlemen, and up to date +not one of you has turned to with the rest of us. The understanding was +that--" + +Mr. Landover whirled on him, white with anger. "That will do!" he +exclaimed. "Clear out! I do not intend to allow any such riff-raff as +you to order me to--Oh, pray do not be alarmed, ladies! This rowdy is +not likely to assault me. Nothing will happen, I assure you. Clear out, +you bum,--do you hear me?" + +Percival was smiling. "I wish you wouldn't interrupt me, Mr. Landover. +As I was saying, it was understood that every man on this ship who is +well enough to--" + +"Can't you see that there are ladies present? Haven't you an atom of +decency about you?" + +"--understood that every man on this ship was to do his share of the +work laid out. I owe these ladies an apology for reminding you in their +presence that the boats are leaving for shore and that if you do not get +off in the next relay you will be compelled to swim to that landing over +there,--and I doubt very much whether any of you can make it." + +"Wha-what's that?" demanded Mr. Block. + +Mr. Landover was speechless. A hard glitter came to Percival's eyes, the +smile left his lips. + +"You heard what I said, Mr. Block. I'll make it plainer, however. If you +men don't get into the next boat leaving this ship, I'm going to +have you thrown overboard and made to swim to your work. I regret +exceedingly, ladies, that I have been obliged to resort to harsh words +in your presence, but time is so precious that I can't afford to give +them a private audience." + +"Oh, my goodness gracious!" cried Mrs. Block, twisting her fat hands in +an agony of alarm. "Maybe you better go, Moses. You vas nearly drownded +twice yet in pool at White Sulphur." + +"This is the most outrageous, high-handed,--" began Landover, +explosively, but stopped short as Percival levelled his unlovely +forefinger at him. + +"Cut it out, Mr. Landover,--cut it out," he snapped, inelegantly. "Now, +listen to me. For two days you and these boon companions of yours have +been loafing on the job. While the rest of us have been working like +dogs, you and your friends,--you needn't look insulted, because by the +looks of things they are your friends,--you've been sitting up here +talking to the ladies, smoking cigars, and telling every one how +successfully you conduct a bank in New York. Now, Mr. Landover, you're +not an old man. If you were, I'd be the first to suggest the easiest +sort of work for you. You are under fifty and you're a strong, healthy +man. You ride every morning in Central Park, you play golf in winter and +summer, and you're one of the men who made Muldoon famous. + +"You are able to work as the rest of us are working. Your hands are in +a much better condition than mine. If we were in New York, I would take +off my hat to you and admit that you are one of the greatest bankers in +the world, and that you know your business. But we're not in New York. +We're down here on a lonely island. You know how to build and conduct +banks, I know how to build and conduct camps. We have no use for +scientific bankers here, but we have considerable use for experienced +camp builders. I have been put in charge of this work. I'm going to see +it through. Up in the hills I got a full day's work out of my men,--and +there were worse men among them than you will ever be. There were +gunmen, knife slingers, cutthroats and bullies,--but they had to work, +just the same. Just a minute, if you please. I'm not through. I think I +appreciate your position, Mr. Landover. + +"You regard me as a four-flusher, a tramp,--maybe a thief or worse. I +am but little more than half your age and I am a person of absolutely no +importance. That's neither here nor there. I have been selected to run +this job because Captain Trigger, with Mr. Mott and virtually every +other man on this ship, believes that I know how to handle it. But even +that's neither here nor there. What I'm coming to is this. As long as +I am in charge of this job, every man, woman and child has got to do +something. Just at present there isn't much that the women and children +can do, but there is work for every man who can stand on his feet. You +needn't glare at me. I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Landover. You say you +are going to stay on this ship. Well, I've come here to tell you that +you are not going to do anything of the sort. The women and children are +to remain on board until we've got houses built for them on shore, or +until the time comes when there is work for them to do. If they choose +to come ashore occasionally it will be to watch the men work and to +cheer them up with their presence. But no man is to stay on this ship +after we've once got the real job going out there. Now you've heard my +statement, sir. I am willing to listen for a few minutes to your side of +the question. Don't all speak at once,--and please be careful, there are +ladies present." + +While Percival did not take his eyes from Landover's face during this +speech, he was aware that Miss Clinton and her aunt had turned abruptly +away and were leaning against the rail a few yards distant, their backs +to him. Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori were regarding him with shining, +approving eyes, while Mrs. Block,--gulping furiously,--clasped her +husband's arm and kept up a constant muttering. Something told him that +Ruth Clinton and Mrs. Spofford had turned against him. + +"I have nothing to say to you," said Landover, curtly. Turning on his +heel, he joined the two ladies at the rail. He spoke a few words to them +in a lowered tone, and then the three of them strode off without so much +as a glance at the young man. + +Percival flushed a dull red under his tan. His eyes followed them until +they disappeared around a corner. Down in his heart he hoped that Ruth +would not deny him a fleeting look of encouragement and approval. + +Landover carried himself like a soldier. He was tall, well set-up, and +almost offensively erect. He was a handsome man of perhaps forty-eight. +His cleanshaven face was firm, aggressive, domineering. There was not +a trace of grey in his dark hair. He typified strength, mentality, +shrewdness and that most essential quality in the standards of wealth +and power,--arrogance. In a word, he personified Finance. + +"Now, see here, Percival," began Nicklestick, in a most cavalier manner, +greatly encouraged by the lofty conduct of the Money King, "you know you +can't do this sort of thing. We won't stand for it, not for a minute. We +object to this high-handed business. You got to realize that--" + +"Object and be hanged!" snapped Percival. "The next thing, you'll +be calling yourselves conscientious objectors. Well, it's no use, +Nicklestick. There's no such animal on board this Ark. I see a couple +of boats returning from shore. You've got about fifteen minutes to shed +that Stein & Bloch suit and jump into something that will never need +pressing again,--your working clothes. I'm doing you a kindness. That +gang out there won't stand for slackers. If you're wise you'll take my +word for it." + +He was turning away when Nicklestick intercepted him. + +"What do you think they would do, Mr. Percival?" he inquired in some +agitation. "We are gentlemen. We got a right to decide for ourselves vat +we shall do. We can pay for--" + +"You will find a lot of gentlemen out there who have already decided for +themselves,--and very cheerfully, too. You will not be lonely. If you +desire any further information as to the class of labourers you will +come in contact with, Mr. Nicklestick, I would suggest a careful study +of the first cabin list, the second cabin list, and finally the third +cabin list, if you can find such a thing. You will also run up against +some excellent material from the United States Navy, to say nothing of a +fine lot of able seamen. They've adopted a common name. Do you know what +they call each other?" + +"No," said Nicklestick, wiping his brow. "Vat--vat do they call each +other?" + +"Men," said Percival, and walked away. + +He was followed closely by Careni-Amori and Olga Obosky, and at some +distance by the whispering, gesticulating Jews. The great soprano was +profoundly agitated. Obosky, a pace or two behind her, was tense and +silent. Her head was slightly bent. There was a strange, dog-like +expression in her eyes as they regarded the back of Percival's head. + +"But what will you do?" Careni-Amori was crying, as she clutched his +arm. "He is a great man. He is a millionaire. He owns part of this +steamship line,--so he have inform me. You will not throw him into the +water,--yes?" + +"As sure as you are a foot high, Madame Careni-Amori," said he, grimly. + +"Oh, mon Dieu! You hear him, Obosky? He means what he have say." + +"Be careful, my friend," said Obosky, drawing alongside of Percival. "Do +you not see how the wind blows?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Have you count the cost of victory? You may lose more than you will +gain." + +Percival looked at her intently for a moment; then, in a flash, the +meaning of her words was revealed to him. + +"Even so, Madame Obosky," he returned, his jaw setting, "I am a good +loser." + +"The spoils do not always go to the victor," she warned him. + +"I still have your luck-piece," said he, smiling as he slapped his +trousers-leg. + +"It has always brought me luck," she said, looking straight into his +eyes. "It may continue to do so, who knows? Alas for you, my friend, +you may yet have to turn to me for consolation. It is the ill-wind that +blows nobody good. Am I not shocking, Mr. Percivail?" + +They had lost Madame Careni-Amori, who was behind them, shrieking a +command through a port-hole to her maid. + +He looked at her in amazement. "I don't know what to think of you, +Madame Obosky." Then he grinned. "Good Lord! You--you can't be making me +an offer of marriage?" + +"Heaven forbid!" she cried. "I have had all I want of marriage, my +friend. You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that again. +No, no! I do not desire to marry you, Mr. Percivail. Nothing so dreadful +as that! Suppose we would be married,--what zen? Poof! Because I am an +honest woman I would have to tell you some time zat I have had ze honour +to be once the mistress of a Crown Prince,--and then you would hold up +your holy hands and cry out, 'My God, what kind of a woman is this I +have marry?' and--Oh, but I would not tell you about zat Crown Prince +until we have been married a year or two, so do not look so pleased! +In a year you would be hating me so much zat you would rejoice to hear +about the Crown Prince, and I would be loathing you so much zat I would +probably have to kill you,--because I do not believe in divorce any more +than I believe in marriage. You see? Most women hate their husbands. +They never hate their lovers. It is so difficult to get rid of the one, +and so easy to keep the other,--zat is the explanation. So! Now you +may know zat love is the humblest thing in the world, and passion the +noblest, for love is for the weak while passion is for the strong. Love +is easily deceived, passion never. Love endures, passion conquers. Love +is blind, passion is sight itself. Love rules the world, but passion +rules love. Love consents, passion demands. Love is law, passion is +life. I could go on forever, but I see you do not like my discourse. Zat +is because you are already in love, my friend. Poof! You will get over +that!" She laughed. + +Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the same +time his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting the +honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There was no +denying the physical appeal of the lithe, sinuous Russian; there was no +gainsaying the call of the blood. On the other hand, the American girl +stood for everything his own mother exemplified in flesh and spirit. + +As it is with all men, he was absolutely incapable of associating +passion with the mother who bore him, or with sisters who marry and give +them nieces and nephews to adore. It was impossible, utterly impossible +that they should have possessed the instincts of this woman beside +him. But even as the thought raced through his mind he experienced the +sudden, almost staggering realization that after all the chief, probably +the only difference between his women and Olga Obosky was that they were +good! + +"Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?" he inquired, his eyes +hardening. + +"Yes," she said calmly. "But not now. When you have more time, my +friend. I shall be very much interested to hear what you think of me. In +the meantime, I am troubled for you. You are in love with her,--oh, yes, +you are,--and I am very much afraid zat you will lose her if you are +not careful. I am your friend. Be warned in time, Mr. Percivail. She is +sorry for him. Landover. You have humiliated him before all of us. He is +the friend of her family. Go slow, my friend, or she will turn against +you and you will lose her. You have still a good chance. She is more +nearly in love with you than she suspects. A little good judgment on +your part, my friend, and you will win. She will marry you, and when +she have done so, zen you may with impunity toss Mr. Landover in the +sea,--but not now, my friend, not now." + +"By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky," he exclaimed, frankly +puzzled. "I can't make you out at all." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very wise, +Mr. Percivail," she returned, with a smile. "Au revoir!" + +Percival went straight to Captain Trigger. + +"See here, Captain," he said at once, "I'm up against it with Landover. +He refuses to take orders from me. I don't want to do anything drastic +without consulting you. If you say I'm to let him off, that's the end +of it so far as I'm concerned. Of course, I can't answer for the rest +of the crowd. But if you say I am to go ahead along the line originally +laid out, I'll do it." + +Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with anxiety, +rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across the basin. +Then he turned to the young man. + +"Mr. Landover is one of the owners of this steamship line, Percival." + +"So I understand, sir." + +"He notified me this morning that he will see that I am dismissed from +the service if I continue to support this silly, suicidal plan to build +a camp on shore." + +"Yes, sir. And you?" + +"I promptly tendered my resignation as master of this vessel," answered +the Captain. + +"You did?" cried Percival, dismayed. + +"To take effect when I have tied her safely up to her pier in New York," +said the old man, striking the rail with his fist. + +"Great!" cried Percival. + +"He has just come to me with the complaint that you have threatened to +throw him overboard. Is that true, Percival?" + +"Yes, sir,--in a way. I mentioned an alternative." + +"Mr. Landover is no better than any of the rest of us. You will proceed +to throw him overboard, Percival, if he refuses to do his share of the +work." + +Percival gulped, and then saluted. + +"Orders, sir?" + +"Orders!" + +The young man started away, but the Captain called him back. + +"What are you going to do after you have had him thrown into the water?" + +"Why, dammit all," exclaimed Percival, "what can I do but jump in and +save his life? You don't suppose I'd let him drown, do you? And, God +knows, nobody else would save it. They want to tar and feather him, as +it is, or lynch him, or make him walk the plank." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The first of the two boats came alongside, and men began to go clumsily, +even fearfully down the ladders. Throughout the early stages of activity +on shore, the passengers and crew went out in shifts, so to speak. +Percival and others experienced in construction work had learned that +efficiency and accomplishment depend entirely upon the concentration +of force, and so, instead of piling hundreds of futile men on shore to +create confusion, they adopted the plan of sending out daily detachments +of fifty or sixty, to work in regular rotation until all available +man power had been broken in and classified according to fitness and +strength. For example, certain men developed into capable wood-choppers, +while others were useless in that capacity. Each successive draft, +therefore, had its choppers, its strippers, its haulers, its "handy +men,"--and its water-boys. Moreover, this systematic replacement of +toilers made it possible for those who were not accustomed to hard, +manual labour to recover from the unusual tax on strength and endurance. + +It should be explained, however, that this system was not applied to +individuals selected for the purpose of exploration and research. Four +parties, well-armed and equipped, were sent out to explore both sections +of the island. These expeditions had numerous objects in view: to +determine, if possible, whether the island had ever been visited +or occupied by man; to determine the character of the fruits and +vegetables; extent and variety of animal life; the natural food +resources, etc. The groups were made up of men familiar with nature +in the rough. Lieutenant Platt headed one group, Professor Flattner +another, a Bolivian ranchman and an English horse buyer the remaining +two. + +Abel Landover was to have gone out with the first day's shift to work +on the road through the wood. He refused point-blank to leave the ship. +This state of affairs lasted through the next two days, the banker +stubbornly ignoring the advice and finally the commands of Captain +Trigger. In the meantime he had been joined in his rebellion,--a word +used here for want of a milder one,--by half a dozen gentlemen who did +a great deal of talking about how the Turks were maltreating the +Armenians, but, for fear of being suspected of pro-Germanism, studiously +avoided pre-war dissertations on the conduct of the Russians. + +The first shift's turn had come around once more in the natural order +of things, and practically all of the men had been landed. Landover +had refused to go out with either of the other shifts. He had stood +his ground obstinately. Percival's ultimatum, sweeping like wildfire +throughout the ship's company, brought nearly every one on board to the +rails to see whether he would carry out his threat. Would he dare throw +the great capitalist, this mighty Croesus, this autocrat, into the sea? + +The first boat carried off Nicklestick, Block, Shine and the other +objectors. Landover was in his stateroom. + +"Just a minute," called out Percival to the oarsmen, as they waited for +him to take his place in the last boat. "We're shy a man, I see." His +eye ranged the deck. His face was a sickly yellow. It would have been +white save for the tan. "Where is Landover?" he demanded of the crowd. + +Some one answered: "He went to his cabin a couple of minutes ago," and +another volunteered: "It's Number 9 on the promenade deck." + +Half a minute later Percival rapped peremptorily on the door of Number +9. + +"We're waiting for you, Mr. Landover," he called out. + +"Wait and be damned," came strongly from the stateroom. "The door is +unlocked. If you put a foot inside this room, I'll shoot you like a +dog." + +"You will have the satisfaction of killing a mighty good dog," said +Percival, and threw the door wide open. He did not enter the room, +however. Standing just outside the door, he faced the banker. Landover +stood in the centre of the luxurious cabin, a revolver in his hand. + +"I mean exactly what I say, Percival. I will shoot the instant you put a +foot through that door." + +"I don't believe you would," said Percival, "but, just the same, I'm not +going to chance it. If I ever conclude to commit suicide, I'll go off +somewhere and blow my brains out with my own gun. At present, I have no +thought of committing suicide, so I'll stay right where I am. I didn't +come here to kill you, Mr. Landover. I have no gun with me. I simply +came to tell you that the last boat is leaving, and we are waiting for +you." + +For many seconds the two men looked straight into each other's eyes. + +"Are you coming?" demanded the young man levelly. + +"Certainly not!" + +Percival's shoulders sagged. His face wore an expression of complete +surrender. + +"Well,--if you won't, I suppose you won't," he muttered. + +A triumphant sneer greeted this abject back-down on the part of the +would-be dictator. + +"I thought so," exclaimed Landover. "You're yellow. You can bully these +poor, ignorant--" + +He never finished the sentence. Percival cleared the eight or nine feet +of intervening space with the lunge of a panther. His solid, compact +body struck Landover with the force of a battering ram. Before the +larger and heavier man could fire a shot, his wrist was caught in a +grip of steel. As he staggered back under the impact, Percival's right +fore-arm was jammed up under his chin. In the fraction of a second, +Landover, unable to withstand this sudden, savage onslaught, toppled +over backwards and, with his assailant clinging to him like a wildcat, +found himself pinned down to the spacious, inset washstand. + +The revolver was discharged, the bullet burying itself in the floor. An +instant later the weapon fell from his paralysed fingers. With his free +left hand he struck wildly, frantically at Percival, but with no effect. +The broad back and shoulders of his assailant proved a barrier he could +not drive past. And that rigid, merciless right arm, as hard as a bar of +steel, was pressing relentlessly against his throat, crushing, choking +the life out of him. He was a strong, vigorous man, but he was helpless +in the grasp of this tigerish young fighter from the slopes of the +Andes. He heard Percival's voice, panting in his ear. + +"I can keep this up longer than you can. I don't want to break your +neck,--do you understand? I don't want to break your neck, Landover, but +if you don't give in, I'll--I'll--" The pressure slackened perceptibly. +"Say it! Now's your chance. Say you've--got enough!" + +Landover managed to gasp out the word. He could still feel his eyes +starting from his head, his tongue seemed to fill his mouth completely. + +Percival released him instantly and fell back a yard or so, ready, +however, to spring upon his man again at the first sign of treachery. No +more than sixty seconds elapsed between the beginning and the end of the +encounter. It was all over in the twinkling of an eye, so to speak. In +fact, it was over so quickly that the first man to reach the door after +the report of the revolver rang out, found the two men facing each +other, one coughing and clutching at his throat, the other erect and +menacing. For the first time, Percival took his eyes from the purplish +face of the banker. They fell first upon a head and pair of shoulders +that blocked one of the two port-holes. He recognized the countenance of +Soapy Shay, the thief. To his amazement, Soapy grinned and then winked +at him! + +"The boat is ready to leave, Landover," said the victor briskly. "We +have no more use for this thing at present," he went on, shoving the +revolver under the berth with the toe of his boot. The banker stared +past him at the agitated group in the corridor. The man was trembling +like a leaf, not so much from fear as from the effects of the tremendous +physical shock. + +Percival was a generous foe. He experienced a sudden pity,--a rush of +consideration for the other's feelings. He saw the tears of rage +and mortification well up in the eyes of the banker, he heard the +half-suppressed sob that broke from his lips. Whirling, he ordered the +crowd away from the door. "It's all right," he said. "Please leave us." +He addressed Soapy Shay. "Beat it, you!" + +Soapy saluted with mock servility. "Aye, aye, sir. I saw the whole show. +It was certainly worth the price of admission." Having delivered himself +of that graceful acknowledgment, he effaced himself. + +"Just a word or two, Mr. Landover," said Percival as the crowd shuffled +away from the door. "I am sorry this had to happen. Even now I am not +sure that you fully understand the situation. You may still be inclined +to resist. You are not in the habit of submitting to force, reason or +justice. I am only asking you, however, to recognize the last of these. +You will be happier in the end. I don't give a hang how much you hate +me, nor how far you may go to depose me. I don't want your friendship +any more than I want your enmity. I can get along very nicely without +either. But that isn't the point. At present I am in charge of a gang of +workmen. Every man on this ship belongs to that gang, you with the rest. +I ask you to look at the matter fairly, honestly, open-mindedly. You +accuse me of being high-handed. I return the charge. It's you who are +high-handed. You set yourself above your fellow-unfortunates. You refuse +to abide by the will of the majority. I represent the majority. I am +not acting for myself, but for them. God knows, I am not looking for +trouble. This job isn't one that I would have chosen voluntarily. But +now that it has been thrust upon me, I have no other alternative than to +see it through. You ought to be man enough, you ought to be fair enough +to see it in that light. If conditions were reversed, Mr. Landover, and +you were in my place, I would be the last to oppose you, because I +have learned in a very tough school that it pays to live up to the +regulations. Everywhere else in the world it is a question of capital +and labour. Here it is a question of labour alone. There is no such +thing as capital. Socialism is forced upon us, the purest kind of +socialism, for even the socialist can't get rich at the expense of his +neighbour. But I'm beginning to lecture again. Let's get down to cases. +Are you prepared to go out peaceably,--I'll not say willingly,--and do +your share on the job as long as you are physically able?" + +"I submit to brute force. There is no other course left open to me," +said Landover hoarsely. + +"Very well, then. Come along,--we're wasting valuable time here." + +"I will follow you in a few minutes." + +"You will come now," said Percival levelly. "You and I, Mr. Landover, +are jointly concerned in the establishment of a very definite order of +discipline. We represent the two extremes." He stood aside. "Precede me, +if you please." + +After a moment's hesitation, the other lifted his chin and walked past +the young man. The corridors were clear. Percival followed close behind. +He kept up a glib, one-sided conversation. + +"You see, there was no other way to handle you. I was obliged to resort +to punitive measures. That's always the case when you are dealing with +sensible, intelligent, educated men. It is impossible to reason with an +intelligent, educated man. He invariably has opinions, ideas, viewpoints +of his own. He is mentally equipped to resist any kind of an argument. +Take our United States Senators, our Congressmen, even our Presidents. +You can't reason with them. No doubt you've tried it a thousand times, +you and the other capitalists. We've all tried it. You've got to hit 'em +on the head with some sort of a club or big stick if you want to bring +'em to time. You have to club them to death at the polls, so to speak. +Now, you take these wops. They can't argue. They haven't got that sort +of intelligence. They're considerably like the common or garden variety +of dog. No matter how much you beat them and scold them, you can always +get along with them if you feed them and let them see that you're +not afraid of them. If they once get an idea that you are afraid of +them,--well, it's all off. They begin to be sensible right away, and +then they form a labour union. And the more sensible and intelligent +they become, the easier it is for the labour leaders, the walking +delegates, and blood-sucking agitators to make fools of 'em. It's all a +matter of leadership, Mr. Landover, as you will admit, any way you look +at it. Well, here we are." + +Landover paused before starting down the ladder to the boat. He turned +to address Percival in a loud, clear voice. + +"You will not long be in a position to browbeat and bully the rest +of us, young man. Your reign will be short. I would like my +fellow-passengers to know that I have never refused to work with them. +I have merely declined to work under an outlaw. Life is as dear to me +as it is to any one else on this ship. I am taking this step against +my will, rather than subject myself to further indignities and the +cruelties you would inflict if I held out against you. I am sorry to +deprive you of the spectacular hit you might have made by throwing me +into the sea, a treat which you doubtless led all of these people to +expect." + +He climbed down the ladder and dropped into the boat. As he took his +seat, he ran his eye along the line of faces above. Finding the persons +he sought, he smiled, shook his head slowly to signify a state of +resignation, and then set his flushed, angry face toward the land. + +Percival, following him, did not look up at the row of faces. + +Careni-Amori sang that evening in the main saloon. Signer Joseppi, tired +and sore after his hard day's work, wept, and after weeping as +publicly as possible created a profound sensation by kissing the great +prima-donna in full view of the applauding spectators. Then, to cap +the climax, he proclaimed in a voice charged with emotion that Madame +Careni-Amori never had sung better in all her life! This to an artist +who had the rare faculty for knowing when she was off the key,--and who +knew that she was very badly off on this particular occasion. + +Percival was standing near the door as Ruth Clinton and her aunt left +the saloon on the way to their rooms. He joined them after a moment's +hesitation. The two ladies bowed coldly to him. He was the essence of +decision. As usual, he went straight to the point. + +"I can't take back what I did this morning, and I wouldn't if I could," +he said, falling in beside Mrs. Spofford. "I know you are displeased +with me. Can't we thresh it out now, Mrs. Spofford?" + +The elder woman raised her chin and stared at him coldly. He shot a +glance past her at the girl's face. There was no encouragement to be +found in the calm, unsmiling eyes. + +"I fail to see precisely why we should thresh anything out with you, Mr. +Percival," replied Mrs. Spofford. + +"It is barely possible that you are not quite clear as to my motives, +and therefore unable to gauge my actions." + +"I understand your motives perfectly,--and I approve of them. Your +actions are not so acceptable. Good-night, Mr. Percival." + +He smiled whimsically at Ruth. "My left hand is rather in need of +attention, Miss Clinton. I suppose I am so deeply in your bad graces +that I may not hope for--er--the same old kindness?" + +She stopped short. "Is this a request or a command? Mr. Percival, I will +be quite frank with you. Mr. Landover is our friend. I am not, however, +defending him in the position he has taken. There is no reason why he +should not do his share with the rest of the men. But was it necessary +to humiliate him, was it necessary to insult him as you did this +morning? He is a distinguished man. He--" + +"Are you coming, Ruth?" demanded Mrs. Spofford, sharply. + +"In just a moment, Aunt Julia." + +"You will oblige me by coming with me at once. We have nothing more to +say to this young man." + +"I have asked him a question. I shall wait for his answer." + +"I will answer it, Miss Clinton, by saying it was necessary," said +he steadily. "There are other distinguished men here who are further +distinguishing themselves by toeing the mark without complaint or cavil. +Mr. Landover was appealed to on three distinct occasions by Captain +Trigger and the committee. He ignored all private appeals--and commands. +The time had come for a show-down. It was either Landover and his little +band of sycophants, or me and the entire company of men on this ship. +It may interest you to know that you and Mrs. Spofford are the only two +people on board, outside of Mr. Landover's retrievers, who blame me for +what I did this morning." + +"You can hardly expect me to be interested in what other people think of +my position, Mr. Percival," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. + +"No more, I dare say, than Landover cares what they think of his," was +his retort. + +She lifted her chin. "I am beginning to appreciate Mr. Landover's +attitude toward you, Mr. Percival," she said icily. + +"And to justify it, I suppose," he said dejectedly. "I want your +friendship, Miss Clinton,--yes, I want a great deal more than your +friendship. You may as well know it. I'm not asking for it,--I'm +just telling you. Please don't go away. I promise not to make myself +ridiculous. You have been good to me, you have been wonderful. I--I +can't bear the thought of losing your friendship or your respect. I just +had to bring Landover to time. You may think there was some other way, +but I do not. At any rate, it isn't a matter that we can discuss. Some +day you may admit that I was right, but I don't believe I will ever see +the day when I will admit that I was wrong. Won't--can't we be friends?" + +"I do not believe I can ever feel the same toward you after witnessing +what I did this morning," said she, shaking her head. "You deliberately, +intentionally degraded Mr. Landover in the presence of others. Was that +the act of a gentleman? No! It was the act of an overbearing, arrogant +bully who had nothing to fear. You took advantage of your authority +and of the fact that he is so rich and powerful that he is practically +without a friend or champion. You knew only too well that ninety-nine +per cent of the people on board this ship were behind you in your attack +on him because he represents capital! You had nothing to fear. No, Mr. +Percival, I don't believe we can be friends. I am sorry." + +"You heard what Mr. Landover said to me this morning, Miss Clinton," +said he, paling. "You heard what he called me. Do you believe these +things of me?" + +She was silent for a moment. "No, I do not," she replied slowly. "I +believe that you are all you have represented yourself to be." + +"Thank you," he said, with gentle dignity. "I am sorry if I have +distressed you this evening. Please don't think too harshly of me when +I say that I just had to find out how we stand, you and I. Now that I +know, I can only promise not to bother you again, and you may rely on my +promises. I never break them. Good-night, Miss Clinton." + +He bowed to Mrs. Spofford, who ignored him, and then to Ruth, a wistful +smile struggling to his lips and eyes as he did so. As he turned away, +she spoke to him. + +"You mentioned your hand being bad again. If you would like me to dress +it for you,--under the circumstances,--I will do so." + +"Ruth!" cried Mrs. Spofford in a shocked voice. + +He put his left hand behind his back. It was the one with which he +had gripped Landover's wrist that morning. The strain had reopened the +partially healed wounds. + +"I injured it this morning in an encounter with your friend, Miss +Clinton. I can hardly ask you to dress it. Thank you, just the same." + +"I know all that happened in Mr. Landover's cabin, but even so, I am +ready and willing to do anything in my power to ease the pain you are +suffering." She spoke calmly, dispassionately, almost perfunctorily. + +He shook his head. "I shouldn't have spoken of it," he said. "It isn't +so bad that I can't fix it up myself. Good-night." + +She joined her aunt and they made their way in silence to the latter's +stateroom. It was not until after the door was safely locked that Mrs. +Spofford delivered herself of the thought that had been in her mind the +whole length of the slanting corridor. + +"I hope he will not take advantage of his position to--to bully us--to +bully you, dearest,--he might, you know. He has shown himself to be +perfectly capable of it. And we are so defenceless. No one but Abel +Landover to look to for help if he,--for, of course, no one else would +dare oppose this lawless young,--oh, you need not smile! He has the +power and it is quite plain now that he intends to exercise it. He will +brook no interference--" + +"I am not afraid of Mr. Percival, Aunt Julia," said the girl, sitting +down wearily on the edge of the berth. "He is a gentleman." + +"A--a gentleman?" gasped Mrs. Spofford. "Good gracious!" + +"He will not annoy me," said Ruth, absently study-ing the tips of her +slim, shapely shoes. "Possess your soul in peace. I think I know him." + +"Are you defending the braggart?" + +"Not at all! I detest him," cried the girl, springing to her feet, her +face crimsoning. "He is perfectly abominable." + +"I--I wouldn't speak quite so loudly, my dear," cautioned her aunt, +glancing at the door uneasily--"It would be like him to listen outside +the door,--or at any rate, one of his men may have been set to spy +upon--" + +"Don't be silly, Aunt Julia. And don't be afraid. Mr. Percival isn't +going to make us walk the plank for mutiny, or put us in chains,--or +outrage us,--if that is what you are thinking. Now, go to bed, you old +dear, and--" + +"I insist on your staying in my room, Ruth. He is in love with you." + +"He can be in love with me and still be a gentleman, can't he, Aunt +Julia? Don't worry! I shall sleep in my own room. I may even go so far +as to leave my door unlocked." + +"What! And if he should come to--" + +"Ah, I shan't send him word that it's unlocked, dear," scoffed Ruth, +finding a malicious enjoyment in her aunt's dismay. "Good-night. Sleep +tight! We must sleep while we have the opportunity, you know. Our lazy +days will soon be over. He says we've all got to work like,--I think he +said dogs." + +"Oh, dear me. I,--I wonder what is to become of us?" moaned the wretched +lady. "After what he tried to do to Abel Landover, there is no telling +to what lengths he may go in--By the way, has Mr. Landover reported to +Captain Trigger that the fellow attempted to shoot him this morning?" + +"Of course not, Aunt Julia." + +"Well, I think it is his duty to do so. Captain Trigger should take +drastic means to curb this--" + +"You forget that Mr. Landover maintains that Captain Trigger and all +the other officers are like putty in the hands of Mr. Percival. I am +beginning to believe it myself. He--he has got them all hypnotized." + +"He hasn't got me hypnotized!" exclaimed Mrs. Spofford. + +"In any case, he is in the saddle," sighed Ruth. + +"He deliberately tried to kill Mr. Landover," said the other. "Is +nothing to be done about it? We heard the shot,--every one heard it. And +no one has the courage to say a word about it! What a lot of cowards we +are! I don't see why he refuses to let me take the matter up with the +Captain. Captain Trigger ought to know the truth." + +Ruth was silent for a moment or two. "It's hard for me to believe, Aunt +Julia, that he would attack a defenceless man with a revolver. It--it +doesn't seem like him." + +"But you have Abel Landover's word for it, Ruth. The bullet grazed his +head. The coward would have killed him most certainly if he had not +succeeded in knocking the pistol out of his hand and overpowering him." + +"If I did not believe Mr. Landover to be an absolutely truthful, +honourable man, I--" began Ruth, a little furrow between her eyebrows, +"well, I might still believe a little in Mr. Percival." + +"And what chance had poor Landover with that highwayman, or whatever he +is, pointing a revolver at him through the porthole and threatening to +blow his brains out if he did not throw up his hands and let Percival +alone?" + +Olga Obosky bandaged Percival's hand. She intercepted him on his way to +Dr. Cullen's cabin. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +During the days and weeks that followed, Percival maintained an +attitude of rigid but courteous aloofness. Only on occasions when it was +necessary to consult with Ruth and her aunt on matters pertaining to +the "order of the day" did he relax in the slightest degree from the +position he had taken in regard to them. + +In time, the captious Mrs. Spofford began to resent this studied +indifference. She detested him more than ever for not running true to +the form she had predicted; her apprehensiveness gave way to irritation. +She resented his dignified, pleasant "good mornings"; she complained +acidly to Ruth about what she was now pleased to describe as "disgusting +superciliousness." + +The truth of the matter was, he failed to take any account whatsoever +of Mrs. Spofford in his calculations; he did not even make a pretence +of consulting her in matters relating to the common good of the common +people, and as she was in the habit of devoting a considerable portion +of her time, energy and executive ability to the interests of the common +or lower class people, the omission was an insult. + +Nor was his cause benefited by the unnecessary and uncalled for +deference he seemed to feel was due her on account of her age. What had +her age to do with it? No one had ever deferred to her age in New York? +She was one to be reckoned with, she was accustomed to the deference +that hasn't anything at all to do with age. And here she was, shunted +to one side, ignored, disregarded,--she who had been the brains and +inspiration of a dozen charitable enterprises, to say nothing of +war-work and very important activities in opposition to Woman Suffrage! + +She found little consolation in Landover's contention that the upstart +was bound to hang himself if they gave him rope enough, or in Ruth's +patient reminder that Percival was getting results,--and getting them +without bullying anybody. + +Ruth accepted the situation with a calmness that exasperated her aunt. +She announced her intention to obey any order the "boss" might issue, +without recrimination, without complaint. And so, when the day came +for her to go forth with other women to do her share of the cooking, +washing, cleaning, and later on the more interesting task of putting the +huts in order for occupancy, she went with a full understanding of what +was required of her and without a word of protest. The women with whom +she toiled from early morn till sombre dusk draped the land were under +the immediate direction of a stewardess of many years experience, an +Englishwoman whose husband, an engineer, had been killed at the time of +the explosions. + +Each night she returned to the ship tired and sore but uncomplaining. +Her strong young body stood the test with the hardiest; her spirit was +unflinching; her heart in the common cause. For she looked ahead with +a clear, far-seeing eye, and saw not one but many winters in this vast, +unguarded prison. And she wondered,--wondered day and night,--what was +ahead of her. + +She was young. The young do not dream of death. They dream of life, +and of its fullness. What did fate have in store for her? Sometimes she +crimsoned, sometimes she paled as she looked ahead. + +Bare-armed, her heavy sport skirt caught up with pins, her bonny brown +hair loosely coiled, thick golf stockings and sturdy shoes covering her +legs and feet, she presented a figure that caused more than one heart to +thump, more than one head to turn, more than one pair of eyes to follow +her as she went about her work. Her cheeks and throat and breast and +arms were browning under the fire of the noonday sun, her eyes glowed +with the fervour of enthusiasm; her voice was ever cheerful and her +smile, though touched with the blight that lay upon the soul of all these +castaways, was unfailingly bright. And when she returned "home" at night +from her wageless day of toil, she slept as she never had slept before. + +Her aunt worked in what was known as the salvage corps. She was one of +the clerks employed in checking out the cargo and other materials seized +by the committee of ten, as the leaders in this singular enterprise were +called. Captain Trigger having protested against the dismantling of the +vessel and the confiscation of its cargo,--which was as far as he could +go,--announced that he would abide by any satisfactory plan to salvage +the property. He required an official, documentary report, however, in +which every item removed was accounted for, with its condition and value +set down and sworn to by responsible persons. The purser, Mr. Codge, and +First Officer Mott represented the Captain in this operation, while the +consignees were properly taken care of by Michael O'Malley Malone, +the lawyer, James K. Jones, the promoter, and Moses Block, the rubber +importer. It is unnecessary to deal further with this feature of +the situation. Suffice it to say, the transaction,--if it may be so +denoted,--was managed with the utmost regularity and formality. Elderly +men and women were chosen for the clerical work which this rather +laborious undertaking entailed. + +On the crest of the loftiest hill there was established a permanent +observation and signal station. Near the top a sort of combination +dug-out and shanty was constructed by order of Captain Trigger, and +day and night, week in and week out, watches were kept similar to those +maintained on board ship. + +While the entire company, high and low, worked with a zeal that +eventually resulted in a state of good-natured though intense rivalry +in skill and accomplishment,--while they were generally cheerful and +courageous,--there was a profound lack of gaiety. In the eyes of each +and every one of them lay the never-vanishing shadow of anxiety,--an +eternal unspoken question. The hardest, fiercest faces wore a wistful +expression; the broadest smile revealed a touch of sadness. Over all, +however, the surpassing spirit of kindness and generosity presided. + +Calamity had softened the hearts in the same crucible that hardened the +hands. The arrogance of the strong mellowed into consideration for the +weak; wisdom and culture went hand in hand with ignorance and brawn; +malice and rancour left the hearts of the lowly and met half-way the +departing insolence of the lofty; fellowship took root and throve in a +field rich with good deeds. The heart of man was master here, the brain +its humble servant. + +Landover worked hard, doggedly. To all outward appearances, he had +resigned himself to the inevitable. He affected a spirit of camaraderie +and good humour that deceived many. Down in his heart, however, he +was bitterly rebellious. He despised these people as a class. In his +estimation, all creatures who worked for a living were branded with the +obnoxious iron of socialism; he even went so far as to believe that they +were, after a fashion, anarchists! His conception of anarchy was rather +far-reaching; it took in everything that was contrary to his notion of +a satisfactory distribution of wealth. He believed that every man who +worked for a wage was at heart an enemy to law and order. He regarded +the wage-earner as one whose hand is eternally against the employer, +absolutely without honour, justice or reason. The workingman was for +self, always for self,--and to Landover that was anarchy. + +The thought that people,--men and women,--of the lower classes possessed +physical and mental qualities similar to those possessed by himself, +even in a modified form, was not only repugnant to him but incredible. +They had none of the finer emotions,--such as love, for instance. He +could not conceive of a labouring man loving his wife and children; +it wasn't natural! He pictured the home-life of the lower classes as +nothing short of indecent; there couldn't be anything fine or noble or +enduring in the processes of birth, existence and death as related to +them. Nature took its course with them, and society,--as represented by +the class to which he belonged,--provided for the litters they cast +upon the world. In a word, Abel Landover's father and grandfather and +great-grandfather had been rich men before him. + +He despised Captain Trigger for the simple reason that that faithful, +gallant sailor was an employee of the company in which he was a +director. It meant nothing to him that Captain Trigger came of fine, +hardy, valiant stock; it meant less to him that he was a law unto +himself aboard the Doraine. For, when all was said and done, Captain +Trigger worked for just so much money per month and doubtless hated the +men who paid him his wage. On board the Doraine,--as was the case with +all other vessels on which he chose to sail,--the banker sat at the +Captain's table. But he did not consider that to be a distinction or an +honour; it was his due. As a matter of fact, he looked upon himself as +the real head of the Captain's table! + +Half a dozen persons in all that company comprised Landover's circle of +desirables. Of the rest, most of them were impossible, three-fourths +of them were "anarchists," all of them were beneath notice,--except +as listeners. As for Percival, if that young man was not literally and +actually a bandit, at least he had all the instincts of one. In any +case, he was a "bum." Whenever Mr. Landover was at a loss for a word to +express contumely for his fellow-man,--and he was seldom at a loss,--he +called him a "bum." + +The women on board were divided into three classes in Landover's worldly +opinion: the kind you would marry (rare), the kind you wouldn't marry +(plentiful), and the kind you wouldn't have to marry (common). He put +Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori in this rather extensive third class, and +even went so far as to set what he considered a fair value upon them as +human commodities! + +He worked with the gang of "log-toters," a term supplied by Percival. +They were the men who carried or dragged the trimmed tree-trunks from +the forest to the camp site, where they were subsequently hewn into +shape for structural purposes by the more skilful handlers of ax and +wedge and saw. + +A certain man named Manuel Crust was the fore-man of this gang. He was +a swarthy, powerful "Portugee" who was on his way to Rio to kill the pal +who had run away with his wife. He was going up there to kill Sebastian +Cabral and live happily for ever afterward. His idea of future happiness +was to sit by the fireside in his declining years and pleasantly +ruminate over the variety of deaths he had inflicted upon the loathsome +Sebastian. In the first place, he was going to strangle him with his +huge, gnarled hands; then he was going to cut off his ears and nose and +stuff them into the vast slit he had made in his throat; then he would +dig his heart out with a machete; then, one by one, he would expertly +amputate his legs, arms and tongue; afterwards he would go through the +grisly process of disemboweling him; and, then, in the end, he would +build a nice, roaring fire and destroy what remained of Sebastian. +Inasmuch as either of these sanguinary and successive measures might +reasonably be expected to produce the desired result, it will be seen +that Sebastian was doomed to experience at least six horrific deaths +before the avenger got through with him. At any rate, if one could +believe Manuel,--and there seemed to be no end of conviction in the +way he expressed himself,--the luckless home-wrecker, if he lived long +enough, was absolutely certain to die. + +Landover took a strange fancy to Manuel Crust. He was drawn to him in +the first place by the blasphemous things he said about Percival. In the +second place, he enjoyed Manuel's vituperative remarks about cutting the +liver out of the "boss." Notwithstanding the fact that Manuel was +more or less given to cutting the livers out of remote and invisible +persons,--including King Alfonso, the Kaiser, Queen Victoria (he didn't +know she was dead), King Manuel, the Czar of Russia, the Presidents +of all the South American republics, the Sultan of Turkey, President +Roosevelt, and Sebastian Cabral,--Mr. Landover positively loved to hear +him talk. He made a point of getting him to talk about Percival a great +deal of the time. He also liked the way in which the prodigious Manuel +deferred to him. It inspired the philanthropic motives that led him to +share his very excellent cigars with the doughty foreman. Moreover, he +had something far back in his mind, had Mr. Abel Landover. + +Percival was indefatigable. He set the example for every one else, and +nothing daunted him. The sceptics,--and there were many of them at the +start,--no longer shook their heads as they went about what once +had loomed as a hopeless enterprise, for to their astonishment and +gratification the "camp" was actually becoming a substantial reality. + +The small group of men who, for obvious reasons, had courted the favour +of Abel Landover at the outset, now went out of their way to "stand in" +with the amazingly popular man of the hour. + +He represented power, he stood for achievement, he rode on the crest of +the wave,--and so they believed in him! Landover may have been a wizard +in New York, but the wizard of Trigger Island was quite another person +altogether,--hence the very sensible defection. + +These gentlemen openly and ardently opposed him on one occasion, +however. It was when he proposed that the island should be named for +the beloved Captain. They insisted that it be called Percival Island. +Failing in this, they advocated with great enthusiasm, but with no +success, the application of Percival's name to almost every noticeable +peculiarity that the island possessed. They objected fiercely to +the adoption of such titles as these: Mott Haven (the basin); Split +Mountain; Gray Ridge (after the lamented Chief Engineer); Penguin Rocks; +The Gate of the Winds; Top o' the Morning Peak; Dismal Forest (west of +the channel); Peter Pan Wood (east of the channel); Good Luck Channel; +Cypress Point; Cape Sunrise (the extreme easterly end of the island); +Leap-frog River; Little Sandy and Big Sandy (the beaches); Cracko-day +Farm; New Gibraltar (the western end of the island); St. Anthony Falls. +Michael O'Malley Malone christened the turbulent little waterfall up in +the hills. He liked the sound of the name, he claimed, and besides it +was about time the stigma of shame that had so long rested upon the poor +old saint was rewarded by complete though belated vindication. + +Strange to say, no name was ever proposed for the "camp." Back in the +mind of each and every member of the lost company lay the unvoiced +belief,--amounting to superstition,--that it would be tempting fate to +speak of this long row of cabins as anything more enduring than "the +camp." + +Notwithstanding his dominant personality and the remarkable capacity +he had for real leadership, Percival was a simple, sensitive soul. He +writhed under the lash of conspicuous adulation, and there was a good +deal of it going on. + +The satiric Randolph Fitts, notwithstanding his unquestioned admiration +for the younger man, took an active delight in denouncing what he was +prone to allude to as Percival's political aspirations. It is only fair +to state that Fitts confined his observations to a very small coterie of +friends, chief among whom was the subject himself. + +"You are the smartest politician I've ever encountered, and that's +saying a good deal," he remarked one evening as he sat smoking with a +half dozen companions in front of one of the completed huts. They were +ranged in a row, like so many birds, their tired backs against the +"facade" of the cabin, their legs stretched out in front of them. +"You're too deep for me. I don't see just what your game is, A. A. If +there was a chance to graft, I'd say that was it, but you could graft +here for centuries and have nothing to show for it but fresh air. +Even if you were to run for the office of king, or sultan or shah, you +wouldn't get anything but votes,--and you'd get about all of 'em, I'll +say that for you. To a man, the women would vote for you,--especially if +you were to run for sultan. What is your game?" + +Percival smoked in silence, his gaze fixed on the moonlit line of trees +across the field. + +"And speaking of women, that reminds me," went on Fitts. "When does my +lord and master intend to transplant our crop of ladies?" + +"What's that, Fitts?" said Percival, called out of his dream. + +"Ladies,--what about 'em? When do they come ashore to occupy the +mansions we have prepared for them?" + +"Captain Trigger suggests next week." + +"What's he got to do with it? Ain't you king?" + +"He's got a lot to do with it, you blithering boob." + +"Besides," drawled Peter Snipe, the novelist, picking doggedly at the +calloused ridges on one of his palms, "some of the women object to +moving in the dark of the moon. They say it's sure to bring bad luck." + +"There's quite a mixup about it," observed Flattner. "Part of 'em claim +it's good luck. Madame Obosky says she never had any good luck moving by +the light of the moon, and Careni-Amori says she doesn't blame her for +feeling that way. Sort of cattish way of implying that the fair Olga +could get along without any moon at all. Professional jealousy, I +suppose." + +"I was speaking to Miss Clinton about it today," remarked Michael +Malone. + +"What does she think about it?" from Percival. + +"I don't know. She asked me what I thought about it." + +"And what did you tell her?" + +"I told her I wasn't a woman, and that let me out. Being a man, I'm not +entitled to a vote or an opinion, and I'd be very much obliged to her +if she'd not try to drag me into it,--and to answer my question if she +could. Whereupon she said she was in favour of moving by the light of +the sun, and payin' no attention at all to the moon. Which I thought was +a very intelligent arrangement. You see, if they move in the daytime the +damned old moon won't know anything about it till it's too late and--" + +"You're the first Irisher I've ever seen who wasn't superstitious, +Mike," broke in Fitts, with enthusiasm. "It takes a great load off +my mind. Now I can ask you why the devil you've never returned that +pocket-knife of mine. I thought you had some sort of superstition +about it. A good many people,--really bright and otherwise intelligent +people,--firmly believe it's bad luck to return anything that's been +borrowed. I suppose I've owned fifty umbrellas in my time. The only man +who ever returned one,--but you know what happened without my telling +you. He got caught in a sudden shower on his way home from my apartment +after making a special trip to return it, and died some three years +later of pneumonia. Sick two days, I heard. So, as long as you're not a +bit superstitious about it, I'd thank you--" + +"I'd have you know that I never keep anything I borrow,--that is, never +more than a day. It's against my principles. Don't ask me for your +dommed old knife. I lent it weeks ago to Soapy Shay." + +"You did?" cried Fitts, incredulity and relief in his voice. "Much +obliged. I haven't been able to look Soapy in the face for a month. Did +he recognize it?" + +"I think he did. He kissed it." + +"Landover tried to borrow my lead pencil yesterday," remarked Flattner. +"Finally offered to put up his letter of credit as security. I gave him +the laugh. That lead pencil is worth more than all the letters of credit +lumped together. He wanted to write a note. So I agreed to let him +use it if he wouldn't take it out of my sight and on condition that he +didn't write more than five or six line's. But when he made as if he was +going to sharpen it, I threatened him with an ax. Can you beat that for +wastefulness? These low-down rich don't know the meaning of frugality. +Why, if I hadn't stopped him he might have whittled off five thousand +dollars' worth of lead, just like that. I also had to caution him about +bearing down too hard while he was writing." + +"What was he wanting to write a note for?" demanded Malone. "Has he lost +his voice?" + +"It was a note of apology. He says he never fails to write a note of +apology when he's done something he's ashamed of, or words to that +effect. Lifelong practice, he says." + +"Who was he apologizin' to?" + +"That little nurse, Miss Lake,--the one with the coral earrings. You +know, Mike. I saw you carrying a bucket of water for her yesterday." + +"Her name isn't Lake," said Malone. "It's Hardwickley. And if you had +your eyes open, you'd have seen me carrying one for her every day, so +you would, my lad." + +"The damned villain!" exploded Flattner. "He told me her name was +Lake,--word with only four letters,--and she turns out to have--let's +see,--eleven! I call that pretty shifty work, I do. You can't trust +these wizards of Wall Street. They'll do you every crack, if you don't +keep your eye peeled. Hornswoggled me out of seven letters." + +"You've got to watch 'em," mused Fitts. "What was he apologizing to her +for?" + +"Something to do with his washing. I don't just remember what it was, +but I think she didn't iron and fold his handkerchiefs properly, +or maybe it was his collars. In any case, he panned her for it, and +afterwards repented. Told me in so many words that he felt like a +blooming cad about it, and couldn't rest till he had apologized." + +Fitts took several puffs at his pipe and then remarked: "That man has +the biggest wash of anybody in this camp. I don't see any real reason +why he should change collars three times a day while he's hauling logs +down from the hills. As a matter of fact, what's the sense of wearing +a collar at all? Most of us don't even wear shirts. See here, your +majesty,--begging your pardon for disturbing your thoughts with my +foot,--why don't you issue a manifesto or edict or something prohibiting +the use of collars except on holidays, or at weddings, funerals and so +forth?" + +Percival yawned. "If Landover didn't have a collar on he'd think he was +stark naked. Gosh, I'd like to go to bed." + +"Why don't you? We'll call you as soon as we get any news," said +Flattner. + +"No, I'll stick it out a while longer. I say, Flat, it begins to look +as if there's real wheat coming up over there after all. Old Pedro was +telling me today that it looks like a cinch unless we got it sowed too +late and cold weather comes along too soon. I never dreamed we'd get +results. Putting out spring wheat in virgin soil like this is a new +one on me. If it does thrive and deliver, by gosh, a whole lot of +agricultural dope will be knocked to pieces. I thought spring wheat +had to be sown in land that was ploughed the fall before. What's the +explanation?" + +"You can't explain nature, A. A.," said Percy Knapendyke. "Nature does +so darned many unnatural things that you can't pin your faith to it at +all. Of course, it was a pure experiment we made. We happened to have +a lot of hard spring wheat, and this alluvial soil, deep and rich, was +worth tackling. Old Pedro was as much surprised as I was when it began +to come up. Using that fertilizer was an experiment, too. He swore it +wouldn't help a bit. Now he just scratches his head and says God did it. +We've got fifty acres out there as green as paint and you can almost +see it grow. If nothing happens we ought to harvest it by the middle of +February, and if God keeps on doing things for us, we may get as much as +twenty-five bushels to the acre. It's different with the oats. You can +plant oats on unploughed land, just as we did, and you can't stop it +growing. The oats field up there along the base of the hills is a peach. +Takes about ninety days for oats to ripen. That means we'll harvest it +in about two months, and we'll beat the cold weather to it. Forty or +fifty to the acre, if we have any luck at all. Potatoes doing well +and--Say, did I tell you what I've found out about that stuff growing +over there in the lowlands beyond the river? Well, it's flax. It's +the same sort of thing that grows in New Zealand. Those plants I was +pointing out to you last week,--the ones with the long brownish leaves, +like swords. There's no mistake about it. I took those two Australian +sailors over to look at 'em a day or two ago and they swear it's the +same plant, growing wild. Same little capsule shaped fruit, with the +little black seeds, and everything. I've been reading up on it in the +encyclopedia. You cut those leaves off when they get to be full size, +macerate 'em in water for a few days, sun dry 'em, and then weave 'em +some way or another. We'll have to work that out. Strongest sort of +fibre in the leaves. Makes a very stout cloth, rope, twine,--all +that sort of thing. Opens up a new and important industry, +boys,--particularly obnoxious to married men. We'll be having +dress-making establishments in full blast before you know it, and model +gowns till you can't rest. I almost hate to spread the news among the +women. We won't have a cook, or a laundress, or a school-teacher on the +Island if this dressmaking craze gets started. Every hut along this row +will have a sign beside the door: 'Dressmaking Done Here.' On the other +hand, I doubt very much if we'll be able to get a single tailor-shop +going,--and God knows I'll soon need a new pair of pants, especially if +we're going to have regular church services every Sunday, as Percival +says." + +"Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie have finally got together on it," +said Malone gloomily. "For the first time in the history of civilization +we're going to have a combination Catholic and Protestant Church. It's +all arranged. Father Francisco is going to conduct mass in the morning +and Parson Mackenzie is going to talk about hell-fire in the evening. +I was wondering what the Jews are going to do for a synagogue and a +rabbi." + +"I can't answer that question," said Peter Snipe; "but Morris Shine +tackled me the other day to write a play for him, something with music +and dancing in it. He's got a great idea, he says. A stock company to +use the church building once a month. Expects to submit his scheme to +Fitts as soon as he gets it worked out, with the idea of having our +prize little architect provide for a stage with ecclesiastical props in +the shape of pulpits and chancels and so forth, which can be removed on +short notice. Suggests, as a matter of thrift, that footlights be put in +instead of altar candles. Free show, free acting, no advertising bills, +no royalties to authors, free programs,--everything free, including +supper." + +"Grand little idea, Pete," said Percival. "Are you going to write the +play?" + +"Sure. My faithful old typewriter is aching to be thumped once +more,--and I've got half-a-dozen extra ribbons, thank God. Good for +two long novels and an epitaph. Just as soon as we can get the ship's +printing press and dining-room type ashore, I'll be ready to issue The +Trigger Island Transcript, w.t.f.--if you know what that means. I see +you don't. Weekly till forbidden." + +"I've always wondered what those confounded letters meant down in the +corner of the half-inch advertisements," said Flattner. "It will be a +rotten-looking newspaper if it's anything like the sheet the Doraine +put out on the trip down. No two letters matched, and some of 'em were +always upside down. Why were they upside down, Pete? You're an old +newspaper man. Tell us." + +"Because it's impossible to set 'em sideways. If it was possible, the +blamed printers could do it, you bet. When I was writing leaders on the +Saxville Citizen years ago there was a ruffian up in the composing-room +who used to set whole paragraphs of my best editorials in em quads, and +when I kicked,--Hello, isn't that a lantern, A. A.?" + +They all scrambled to their feet and peered intently in the direction of +the wooded strip that lined the channel. This whilom conversation came +to an abrupt end. Ghostly forms suddenly took shape in front of other +huts, figures of men that were until then as logs in the shadows. +Far off in the road through the wood, a light bobbed, flashed and +disappeared intermittently, and finally emerged into the open and came +steadily forward. Detached knots of men down the line of huts, twos and +threes and fours, swiftly welded themselves into groups, and, hurrying +forward, swelled the crowd that congregated at the end of the "street." +Two hundred of them, tired but eager, awaited the arrival of the man +with the lantern. + +These were the men who slept on shore, the unmarried men, those who +had no "feminine hearth," as Snipe put it dolefully one dark and windy +night. Since supper-time these men had been waiting and watching. But +few of them had gone to bed. Gentleman and roustabout, one and all, were +linked together by a common anxiety. News of the greatest import was +expected during the night. + +A child was coming to the pathetic little widow of Cruise, the +radio-man. + +Two messengers had gone down to the landing to wait for the report to be +shouted from the afterdeck of the Doraine,--Soapy Shay and Buck Chizler, +the jockey. Now they were returning,--and it was nearing midnight. + +They drew near, the lantern buffeting the legs of the one-time diamond +thief as he swung along in the rear of the more active jockey. + +"It's a girl," called out Buck to the silent mob. Not a sound, not a +word from the eager crowd. "Mother and kid both doing well," went on the +jockey, a thrilling note of triumph in his voice. + +And then a roar of voices went up to the moonlit sky. The shackles +of doubt and anxiety fell away, and every heart swelled with joy and +relief. Men began to dance and laugh. Out in front of the crowd leaped +Percival. + +"Come on now, fellows! Everybody up! Three cheers for the Trigger Island +baby! One--two--three!" + +And while the last wild cheer was echoing back from, the mountainside: +"Now, three good ones for the baby's mother, God bless her!" + +Thrice again the exultant yells echoed across the plain, and then out +leaped another excited figure. It was Nicklestick the Jew. + +"Come on! Come on! Ve got to light the bonfires! Come on! I got the +matches! Vait! Vait! Let's vait while we take off our hats a minute, +boys,--take them off to our baby's father, Jimmy Cruise. No cheers!" + +A hush fell over the crowd. Every hat came off, and every head was bent. +To many of them James Cruise was no more than a name salvaged from the +shocking experiences of those first dreadful days. Few of them had +come in actual contact with him. The time had been too short. But Betty +Cruise, his widow, was known to all of them, high and low. They had +watched over her, and protected her, and slaved for her, for +besides pity there was in every man's soul the fiercest desire that +nothing,--absolutely nothing,--should be left undone to insure the happy +delivery of the babe they were counting so keenly upon! + +She was a frail, delicate English girl whom Cruise had married in Buenos +Aires the year before. He was taking her up to his mother's home in +Connecticut. His death,--alas, his annihilation!--almost killed her. +There were those who said she would die of grief. But, broken and frail +as she was, she made the fight. And now came the news that she had +"pulled through." + +There were mothers on board with tiny babies,--three or four of them, in +fact,--peevish, squalling infants that innocently undertook to inspire +loathing in the souls of these self-same men. They had no claim upon the +imagination or the sympathy of the eager crowd,--no such hold as this +newcomer, the child born in their pockets, so to speak,--an expression +first employed by an ardent champion of the impending infant +in defending his righteous solicitude when it was attacked by a +sophisticated and at the same time exasperated nurse. + +Two bonfires were started in the open space known as "The Green." The +huge piles of twigs and branches had been thrown up earlier in the +evening. They were in plain view of the "lookout" at the top of Split +Mountain. It had been agreed that if it was a boy one fire was to be the +signal; if a girl, two. The "watch" was to share in the glad tidings! + +The cheering awoke Abel Landover from a sound sleep. He turned in his +bunk and growled: + +"The damned idiots!" + +Mr. Landover did not like children. He declined to sit up half the +night to find out "how things were going." So he went to bed, knowing +perfectly well that his three bunkies would come piling in at some +outlandish hour and jabber about the "kid," and he wouldn't be able to +get back to sleep again for hours. + +He was what is commonly known as a "grass widower." His wife rather too +promptly married inside of a month after leaving Reno, and, much to +her own gratification and joy, proceeded to have three very desirable +children within a period of five years, causing him a great deal of pain +and annoyance for the reason that their father had once been regarded as +his best friend,--and now he couldn't abide the sight of him. He hated +children. Now you know the kind of a man he was. + +Five tired and thoughtful men were going to bed a little later on in one +of the huts. + +"What shall we call her?" came from Randolph Fitts, as he threw one of +his clay-covered shoes into the corner. + +"There's only one name for her," said Percival firmly, from the edge of +his bunk. "We'll call her Doraine." + +"Good shot!" cried Peter Snipe. "I had two names in mind, but Doraine's +got 'em both beat. It may not be as pretty as Angelica, but it's more +appropriate. Mortimer was the other name I had in mind." + +"Yep," was the smothered decision of Michael Malone. His shirt came off, +and then he spoke more distinctly. "We can't do better than to name her +after her birthplace. That's her name. Doraine Cruise. It sounds Irish. +Got music in it. All Irish names have,--leaving out Michael and Patrick +and Cornelius and others applied solely to the creatures who don't +take after their blessed mothers and who grow up to be policemen and +hod-carriers, with once in awhile a lawyer or labour-leader to glorify +the saints they were named for, and--Yes, begorry, Doraine's her name." + +And so it was that, with an arbitrary quaintness, the babe was named +without so much as a thought of consulting the mother. They assumed a +proprietary interest in her, a sort of corporate ownership that had as +its basis a genuine affection for and pride in Cruise's widow. It did +not occur to one of them that she ought to have been considered in the +matter of naming her own child; they went to sleep perfectly satisfied +that when the question was put to a general vote on the morrow there +wouldn't be a single dissenting voice against the name they had +selected. + +And Mrs. Cruise herself would be very grateful to them for the prompt +assistance they had given her at a time when she was in no condition to +be bothered with minor details! + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The death of Betty Cruise occurred the second day after her baby was +born. In a way, this lamentable occurrence solved a knotty problem and +pacified two warring sexes, so to speak. For, be it known, the women of +the Doraine took a most determined stand against the manner in which +the men, viva voce, had arrogated unto themselves the right to name the +baby. Not that any one of the women objected to the name they had given +her; they were, in fact, pleased with it. But, they protested, this was +a matter over which but one person had jurisdiction, and that person +was Betty Cruise. If it was not a mother's privilege to name her +own child,--especially in a case where the infant's father was in no +position to decide the question for her, whether she consented or no, +then all they could say was that things had come to a pretty pass. + +At any rate, they were going to see to it that the baby was not named by +a mob! + +Ruth Clinton went straight to Percival. + +"I hear you have named the baby, Mr. Percival," she said, prefacing her +remark by a curt "good morning." + +It was the first time she had spoken to him in many days. Their ways not +only lay apart but she had made a point of avoiding him. She stopped him +this morning as he was passing the hut in which she and her aunt were to +live with two of the American nurses. + +The three young women had spent several days in the making and putting +up of some very unusual and attractive window curtains and portieres; +painting the stones that framed the fireplace, the crude window-casings +and door jamb; and in draping certain corner recesses which were to +achieve dignity as clothes closets. They were scrubbing the floor when +Percival passed on his way to the "office." + +His "office," by the way, was a rude "lean-to" at the extreme outer end +of the street. It was characteristic of him to establish headquarters +at a point farthest removed from the approach to the camp from the ship. +Fitts was perhaps the only person who sensed the real motive back of +this selection. Every one else attributed it to an amiable conclusion on +Percival's part to sacrifice himself for others by walking almost twice +as far as any of them. As a matter of fact, he had nothing of the sort +in mind. He deliberately arranged it so that all operations should be +carried on between headquarters and "home." It was his plan to drive +inward instead of outward, to push always in one direction. In other +words, thought Fitts quite correctly, he "never had to look behind him +for trouble." + +To save his life, Percival could not subdue the eager, devouring gleam +that flashed into his eyes as he looked into hers. He could have cursed +himself. A swift warm flush raced from her throat to her cheeks. +Her direct, steady gaze faltered under fire, and a confused, trapped +expression flickered perceptibly for a moment or two. He mistook it for +dismay, or, on second thought, even worse,--displeasure. + +"I--I can't help it," he stammered, surprised into voicing the thought +that was uppermost. "You know how I feel. I--I--" + +But she had recovered her self-possession. "Do you really think you have +the right to name Mrs. Cruise's baby?" she inquired coolly. + +He managed a wry, deprecatory smile. "Everybody seems to like the name, +Miss Clinton. The more I think of it myself, the better it sounds. I +tried it out last night in all sorts of combinations. It fits nicely +into almost any family tree--even Nicklestick's. Just say it to +yourself. Doraine Nicklestick. Try any name you like. Doraine Smith, +Doraine Humperdinck, Doraine Landover--even Doraine Shay--and, I tried +it out with Clinton. Doraine Clinton. Don't you like it? I even +tried Percival. It isn't quite so satisfying tacked onto a name like +mine,--and it's a poor beginning for Fitts,--but with good, sensible +surnames, it's fine." + +"It isn't a question of how it sounds, Mr. Percival." + +"Don't you like Doraine Clinton?" + +"I like almost anything better than Ruth. I suppose most people loathe +the names that other people have given them." + +"No one knows that better than I. I sometimes wonder what they might +have called me if I were a girl. Nothing as nice as Doraine, or Ruth, +I'll bet my soul on that. Something like Guinevere Aphrodite, or +Desdemona Venus, or--" + +"We are getting away from the subject," she interrupted crisply. "Has it +occurred to you that poor little Mrs. Cruise might like to name her own +baby? Why should you men take it upon yourselves to choose a name for +her child? Don't you think you were a trifle high-handed in the matter?" + +"Of course, if Mrs. Cruise doesn't like Doraine, we will--" + +"You will suggest another, I suppose," she broke in scornfully. "Well, +I may as well inform you that you are about to strike a snag," she went +on, a trifle inelegantly in her desire to be emphatic. "We intend to see +to it that the mother of that baby gives it a name of her own choosing." + +"May I inquire just who you mean by we?" he asked. + +"The women,--three hundred of us, Mr. Percival, that's who. I for one +happen to know that Betty Cruise chose a name long ago. Her heart is set +on naming the baby after her mother,--Judith, I think it is. That's the +name she wants, but do you imagine she will have the hardihood or the +courage, poor little scrap, to oppose you, Mr. Percival? I mean you, +personally. She thinks your word is law. She would no more think of +defying you than she would think of--" + +"Pardon me, Miss Clinton," he interrupted gently, "but don't you think +that's a trifle far-fetched? I am not a dictator, you know. I fancy Mrs. +Cruise knows that, even if you do not." + +"I have heard all about your meeting last night," she went on +ruthlessly, her eyes flashing. "How you suggested the name, how you +settled the question to suit yourself, and how you called the men +together this morning and told them that the child was to be called +Doraine before you asked them to vote on it. Vote on it! What a +travesty! And no one had the nerve to stand up and say a word for that +poor little woman. Oh, you've got them well-tamed, Mr. Percival." + +By this time the two nurses had appeared in the doorway, and several +other women at work down the line, scenting the fray, were approaching. + +"I guess you'd better call off the vote, Mr. Percival," said one of the +nurses, eyeing him unflinchingly. + +"I can't call it off. The men adopted the name unanimously. I have no +right to set aside their decision, no matter how hastily it was made," +said he, beginning to bridle now that he tasted concerted opposition. + +"I warn you that I intend to call the women,--and what few men there are +with minds of their own,--together this evening to see that Betty Cruise +gets fair play," said Ruth. "When she hears that we are behind her, +she'll have the backbone to tell you men to mind your own business +and--" + +"Have I a mind of my own or not, Miss Clinton?" he interrupted. + +"You certainly have," she declared with conviction. + +"Then you may expect me to be one of the men to attend your meeting. +Good morning." He lifted his hat, smiled and walked briskly away. + +"He'll crab the whole thing," observed one of the women, and despite +her vocal rancour there was an admiring expression in her eyes as they +followed him down the road. + +"If he wants to call that baby Andrew Jackson or George Washington, +he'll have his way," said another. "Sex won't make any difference to +him." + +"You just wait and see," said Ruth, quivering with indignation. + +"Mercy, how you must hate him, Miss Clinton," cried one of her +house-mates. + +"I only wish I were a man," cried the other, clenching her fists. + +"It would simplify matters tremendously," came in dry, masculine tones +from the outskirts of the group. They turned and discovered Randolph +Fitts. He was smiling sympathetically. + +"I don't quite see what you mean, Mr. Fitts," said Ruth, after a moment. + +"Because if you were a man, Miss Clinton, you wouldn't even think of +hating him. You'd love him." + +Miss Clinton stared at him for a second or two and then, whirling, +entered the hut. Her cheeks were burning. Who shall say whether the +tears that sprang to her eyes as she fell to work scrubbing in the +corner were of anger or self-pity? + +Briefly, the situation became quite strained as the day wore on. Women +gathered in little knots to discuss the unprecedented "nerve" of the +men. By nightfall they were pretty thoroughly worked up over a matter +that had mildly amused them at the outset of the day. A comparatively +small proportion had cared one way or the other in the beginning. Most +of them did not care at all. Given time, however, to digest the thought, +aided by such seasoning as could be supplied by a half dozen determined +and more or less eloquent voices, they came in the course of a few hours +to the conclusion that they never had heard of anything so outrageous, +and, to a woman, were ready to fight for little Mrs. Cruise's rights! + +Several of the stewardesses and two or three women from the second cabin +were avowed and bitter suffragettes. Indeed, two of the stewardesses, +being English, were of the hatchet-wielding, brick-throwing element that +made things so warm for the pained but bull-headed male population of +London shortly before the Great War began. These ladies harangued their +companions with great effect. + +To have heard or witnessed the little gatherings at noon and at the +close of work for the day, one might have been led to believe that a +grave, portentous ques-tion of state was involved. Trifling and simple +as all this may seem to the reader of this narrative, it serves a +definite purpose. It reveals to a no uncertain degree the eagerness with +which these castaways reached out hungrily for the slightest morsel +that would satisfy the craving of active minds dulled by the constant, +never-absent thought of self; minds charged with thoughts that centred +on something thousands of miles away; minds that seldom if ever worked +in harmony with hands that toiled. + +The men took up the gauntlet. They considered themselves challenged. +Notwithstanding the secret conviction that the women were right, they +stood united in defence of their action. Nothing that Percival could +say or do moved them. He tramped from one group of toilers to another, +always meeting with the same grins and laughter when he suggested that +they wait until Mrs. Cruise was able to approve or disapprove of the +name they had chosen. + +"Good gosh!" cried one of the sailors. "Are you goin' to give in to the +women, boss?" + +"Well, I've been thinking it over, boys. I guess we were a little too +officious. We meant well, God knows, but after all, Betty Cruise ought +to be consulted,--now, oughtn't she?" + +"Sure," cried any number of them cheerfully. "It's her kid." + +"Well, there you are," he rejoined persuasively. + +"But how do we know she won't be tickled to death with our name? She'd +ought to be. It's purtier than any name I can think of," argued Jack +Wales, a sailor. "When she's well enough, we'll tell her the kid's name +is Doraine, and--" + +"She won't hold back a second, boss, when she finds out that you picked +it for her," broke in another. "Only a couple o' days ago she was sayin' +to one of the other women in my hearin' that if it was a boy she was +goin' to call him Percival,--and she didn't know what on earth she'd do +if it was a girl. Said she'd probably have to call it after her mother +and she didn't like her mother's name a little bit." + +"I know, but after all, we did butt in a trifle too soon with our--" + +"For God's sake, don't let any of these here women hear you talk like +that, boss," groaned Jack Wales. "They'll think we're beginning to +hedge. We got to stand together in this thing. If we don't, they'll rule +this camp sure as you're a foot high. I don't give a dern what the kid's +name is, far as I'm concerned, but on principle, boss, it's just got to +be Doraine. Doraine she is an' Doraine she stays." + +Every one of them was good-humoured about it. They were taking it as a +rare and unexpected bit of politics. The thrill of opposition invested +them. They scoffed at surrender. + +Buck Chizler, however, was seriously affected. He was courting one of +the nurses and he, for one, saw peril in preliminary defeat. + +"There won't be any living with 'em," he proclaimed, scowling darkly. "I +know what it is to have 'em get the bit in their teeth. You just can't +manage 'em, that's all. Upset all the dope. Likely to throw you clear +over the fence. Experience ain't a particle of use. The gad don't do a +bit of good. They just shut their jaws, lay back their ears, and--" + +"We're not talking about race-horses, Buck," interrupted Percival, +smiling. + +"Neither am I," said Buck forcibly. + +Ruth went to Olga Obosky. She did so only after a rather prolonged +inward struggle. The Russian's interest in Percival was not moderated +by the reserve supposed to be inherent in women. She was an open +idolatress. One had only to watch the way she followed him with her +dark, heavy-lidded eyes to know what was in her mind. Ruth tried not to +despise her. She tried not to care, when she saw Percival laughing and +talking with this beguiling sensualist,--and it was not an infrequent +occurrence. + +The dancer was seated on the floor of her hut, tailor-fashion, a +cigarette between her lips, her bare arms resting limply on her knees, +her body bent forward in an attitude of extreme fatigue. The three +"coryphees" were busy at work about the place with Olga's maid. Ruth +stopped in the doorway. Olga lazily removed the cigarette from her lips +and smiled. + +"I once thought I was very strong and unbreakable," she said, "but now +I know I am not. See, I am all in, as we would say in America. Suffering +snakes,--how tired I am! That also comes from America. Won't you sit +down, Miss Clinton? We have three or four deck chairs, you see, and some +cushions." + +"Why do you sit there on the floor, all doubled up and--heavens, it must +be uncomfortable,--if you are so tired? How do you manage your legs?" + +"My legs? Oh, my legs are never tired. It is my poor back." Whereupon +she slowly, gracefully straightened out one of her legs, and without +changing the position of her body, raised it, with toes and instep on +a perfect line, until the heel was some three feet from the floor. Then +she swung it slowly backward, twisting her body sinuously to one side. +A moment later the foot was stretched out behind her and she lifted +herself steadily, without apparent exertion, upon the other knee,--and +then stood erect. Ruth watched this remarkable feat in wonder and +admiration. + +"How--how on earth do you do it?" she cried. "Why,--you must be as +strong as--as--a--" She was about to say horse, and floundered. + +"But I trust not as clumsy as one," said Madame Obosky, stretching her +body in luxurious abandon. "I sit on the floor like zat, my friend, +because my back is tired, not my legs. If I lie back in ze deck chair +when I am tired, I would relax,--and would make so much more regret for +myself when the time came to get up again. Besides, it is a good way +to rest, zis way. Have you never tried it? Do, sometime. The whole body +rests, it sags; the muscles have nothing to do, so they become soft and +grateful. The backbone, the shoulders, the neck,--they all droop and +oh, zey--they are so happy to be like zat. It is the same as when I am +asleep and they are not running errands all the time for my brain. The +Arab sits like zat when he rests,--and the Hindoo,--and they are strong, +oh, so very strong. Try it, sometime, Miss Clinton, when you are very +tired. It is the best way to let go, all over." + +Ruth laughed. "I couldn't do it to save my soul." + +"Oh, I do not mean for you to get up as I did, or use your leg as I did. +You could not do zat. You are too old. That is one of the fruits, one +of the benefits of the cruelest kind of child labour. I was a great many +years in making myself able to do zat. See! Put your hand on my leg. Now +my back,--my arm. What you think, eh?" + +Ruth, in some embarrassment, had shyly obeyed her. The dancer's thigh +was like a column of warm iron; her waist, free as ever from stays, was +firm and somehow suggestive of actual resilience; her shoulders and +back possessed the hard, rippling muscles of a well-developed boy; her +shapely forearm was as hard as steel. Ruth marvelled. + +"How strong you are!" she cried; "and yet you are slight. You are not as +big as I am, but oh, how much stronger you are!" + +"I have a perfect figure," said Olga calmly. "It is worth preserving. No +one admires my body so much as I do myself. I must not get fat. When you +are a fat old woman, I shall still be as I am now. You will diet, and +pray, and rave,--because you are growing old,--and I shall do none of +these things. I eat like a pig, I never pray, and I do not believe in +growing old. But you do not come to see me about myself, Miss Clinton. +You find me sitting idly with my legs crossed, and you are surprise. +I work as I dance,--very, oh, so very hard while I am at ze task,--but +with frequent periods of rest. So I do not wear out myself too soon. +It is the only way. Work for an hour, rest for ten minutes,--relax and +forget,--and you will see how well it goes. Why do you come? Is it to +talk about the baby?" + +"Yes, it is, Madame Obosky. I have come to ask you to use your influence +with Mr. Percival. You--" + +"But I have no influence with Mr. Percivail," interrupted the other, +staring. + +Ruth flushed. "You are his friend. You--" + +"Ah, yes,--but nothing more than zat. You too are his friend, Miss +Clinton." + +"I see little or nothing of Mr. Percival," said Ruth stiffly. "We are +not friends,--not really friends." + +"But you admire him, eh? Quite as much as I admire him,--and as every +one else does." + +"There are certain things about him that I admire, of course." + +"You admire him for the same reason that I admire him. Because he has +a most charming and agreeable way of telling me to go to the devil. Is +that not so?" + +"Madame Obosky!" + +"It comes to the same thing. If you would like me to put it in another +form, he has a very courteous way of resisting. He is most aggravating, +Miss Clinton. He is most disappointing. He should be like soft clay in +our hands, and he isn't. Is that not so?" + +"Is it not possible, Madame Obosky, that we,--you and I,--may have an +entirely different viewpoint so far as Mr. Percival is concerned? Or any +other man, for that matter?" Ruth spoke coldly, almost insultingly. + +"I dare say," agreed Olga, composedly, not in the least offended by the +implication. "You want to marry him. I do not." + +"How dare you say that? I do not want to marry that man. I do not want +to marry him, I say." + +"How interesting. You surprise me, Miss Clinton. It appears, then, that +our viewpoint is in nowise different, after all." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"I leave it to your imagination,--and to reflection. Listen! We may as +well be friends. You do not wish to admit it, even to yourself, but +you are in love with him. So am I. The difference between us is that +I realize I can get along without him, and still be happy. I am not +jealous, my dear. If I were, I should hate you,--and I do not. He is in +love with you. You know it perfectly well, because you are not a fool. +He is not in love with me. No more am I a fool. He--" + +"I am not in love with him!" + +"So be it," said Olga shortly. "Have your own way about it. It is not my +affair. You have come to me, however, because you know he loves you and +you know you do not love him. Why, therefore, are you afraid of me?" + +"It is useless to continue this--" + +"Oh, I see! You do not wish my girls to hear our conversation." Without +more ado, she ordered the three girls out of the hut. "Go out and play," +she commanded. Then, as the girls imparted in haste, she turned to Ruth. +"I am very thoughtless. You are not in the habit of discussing your love +affairs quite so generously as I. Poof! They do not care, those girls. +Love affairs mean nothing to my girls." + +"I have no love affair to discuss, Madame Obosky. You need not have sent +them away. Good-bye..There is nothing more to be said--" + +"Do not go away,--please. You do not know whether to like me or not. You +do not understand me. You have never encountered any woman as honest as +I am, zat is the trouble. Sit down, please. Let us talk. We may be here +together on this island all the rest of our lives, Miss Clinton. It +would not be right for us to hate each other. When you are married to +Mr. Percivail, you will have nothing to fear from me. I give you my +solemn oath on zat, Miss Clinton. Our little world here is too small. If +we were out in the great big world,--well, it might be different then. +But, how, I ask you, is it possible for me to run away with your husband +when there is no place to run away to?" + +She spoke so quaintly that Ruth smiled in spite of herself. + +"You are a most extraordinary person, Madame Obosky. I--I can't dislike +you. No, thank you, I sha'n't sit down. I came to see you about the +naming of the baby. I suppose you know that we women have decided to +oppose the--" + +"Yes, yes,--I know," interrupted the other. "But why should we oppose? +It is a very small matter." + +"Do you really believe those men had--or have--the right to give a name +to Betty Cruise's baby? I don't believe it, Madame Obosky." + +"In the first place, can you blame Mr. Percivail for taking the +matter out of the mother's hands? Mothers are very, oh, so very stupid +sometime, you know. For example, my dear Miss Clinton, you have but to +see what Mr. Percivail's mother did to him when he was an infant. She +called him Algernon Adonis,--and why? Because she thought he was the +most wonderful child in all the world,--and because she was silly. I can +almost hear her arguing now with the father, poor man. One day I asked +Algernon Adonis what name his father called him by,--I was so sure he +would not call him Algernon. He said that up to the day his father +died he called him Bud. That's a toy's name, you see. I am in favour of +children being named by outsiders, disinterested outsiders,--a committee +or something,--men preferably. I think this child should be called +Doraine. Betty Cruise she do not care what she call it now that it is +not possible to call it Jimmy Percivail or Percivail Jimmy. Has it occur +to you that if it had been a boy, all these men would have insisted on +Jimmy, without the Percivail?" + +"I like the name Doraine,--we all do. What we resent is Mr. Percival's +presumption in--" + +"Let me tell you one more thing. Do not permit Mr. Percivail to address +your indignation meeting tonight, for if you do, and he smiles zat +nice, good-humoured smile and tells the ladies zat he is sorry to have +displease them, and zat he is to blame entirely for the blunder,--poof! +Zat will be the end!" + +"I am not so sure of that," said Ruth. "There are some very determined +women among us, Madame Obosky." A faint line appeared between her eyes, +however,--a line acknowledging doubt and uncertainty. "And you will not +join us in the protest?" + +"No," said Olga, shaking her head. "I am content to let the men have +their way in small things, Miss Clinton. It makes zem--them so +much easier to manage when it comes to the big things. I speak from +experience. Once let a man think he is monarch of all he surveys and he +becomes the most humble of subjects. As I have said before, we may all +be here for a long, long time. No one can tell. So, I say, we must pat +our men on the back and tell zem what great, wise, strong fellows they +are,--and how good and gallant too. Then they will fight for us like the +lion, and zey--they will work for us like the ass and the oxen, because +man he enjoys to be applauded greatly. A man likes to have his hair +rubbed gently with the finger tips. He will smile and close his eyes and +if he knew how he would purr like the cat. But, my dear, he do not like +to have his hair pulled. Zat is something for you to remember,--you and +all your determined women, as you call them." + +"Of course you understand, Madame Obosky, I--and the other women,--are +thinking only of Betty Cruise in this matter." + +"From what I have been told, all these men out here stayed awake half +the night thinking about her, Miss Clinton. They behave like so many +distracted fathers waiting for news from the bed-chamber. Bless their +hearts, you might think from their actions that the whole two--three +hundred of them consider themselves the consolidated father of zat +single infant." + +"I must be getting back to my work," said Ruth abruptly. Her eyes were +shining, her voice was soft and strangely thick. "But," she went on +bravely, after clearing her throat, "we intend to fight it out with +them, just the same, Madame Obosky." + +Olga went to the door with her. + +"You mean, you intend to fight it out with Mr. Percivail,--you yourself, +eh?" + +"It is not a personal matter with me, let me remind you once more. He +is their leader. He dominates them. He is the force that holds them +together. That's all." + +"And you would render that force impotent, eh? I see. How wise you women +are!" + +Ruth stopped short, struck by the remark. "Say that again, please." + +Olga repeated the words slowly, significantly, and added: "They might +have a worse leader, Miss Clinton." + +At another time, Ruth Clinton would have been deeply impressed by the +underlying significance of the Russian's words. But she was at the mercy +of a stubborn, rebellious pride. She chose to ignore the warning that +lay in Obosky's remark. She felt herself beaten, and she was defiant. It +was too late to hark now to the mild, temperate voice of reason. + +Something rankled deep down in her soul, something she was ashamed to +acknowledge even to herself. It was the disagreeable conviction that +Percival ascribed her activities to nothing more stable than feminine +perversity,--in fact, she had the uncomfortable feeling that he even +went so far as to attribute them to spitefulness. Something in his voice +and manner, as he left her that morning, suggested the kindly chiding of +a wilful child. Well, he should see! + +"I don't care what it all comes to, Madame Obosky," she said, a red spot +in each cheek. "He shall not name that baby." + +The Russian smiled. "Forgive me for saying that you will not feel so +bitterly toward him when the time comes for him to name your baby." + +Ruth's lips fell apart. She stared for a moment in sheer astonishment. +Then she paled with anger. Drawing herself to her full height, she +asked: + +"Are you deliberately trying to make me despise you?" + +"By no means," replied the other, quite cheerfully. "I am merely giving +you something to think about, zat is all." + +"Rubbish!" was all that Ruth flung over her shoulder as she walked away. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +It was the noon hour. Scores of men were resting in the shade of the +huts as she strode briskly past. They all smiled cheerily, but there +was good humoured mockery in their smiles. Here and there were groups of +women talking earnestly, excitedly. + +Abel Landover was leaning in his doorway, watching her approach. His +eyes gleamed. She was very beautiful, she was very desirable. She had +been in his mind for months,--this fine, strong, thoroughbred daughter +of a thoroughbred gentleman. His sleeves were rolled up, his throat +was bare; his strong, deeply lined face was as brown as a berry; if +anything, his cold grey eyes were harder and more penetrating than +in the days when they looked out from a whiter countenance. He was a +strong, dominant figure despite, the estate to which he had fallen,--a +silent, sinister figure that might well have been described as "The +Thinker." For he was always thinking. + +"I understand you tackled the 'boss' this morning, Ruth," he said as she +came up. + +"I daresay the news is all over the island by this time," she replied, +still angry. + +"Was it worth while?" he inquired, a trace of derision in his voice. + +She was on the point of replying rather emphatically in the negative, +when suddenly she recalled the look in Percival's eyes and the first +words he spoke to her. She caught her breath. Her eyes sparkled, her +lips parted in a rosy smile. + +"Yes, Mr. Landover, it was worth while," she said, and went on, leaving +him to reflections that were as perplexing as they were unanticipated. + +She experienced a short spell of triumph. After all, Percival was in +love with her. She did not need Olga Obosky to tell her that. She could +see, she could feel for herself. A certain glee possessed her,--indeed, +as she afterwards succeeded in analysing the sensation, it bordered +decidedly on malice. She had it in her power to make him miserable and +unhappy. She would enjoy seeing him unhappy! + +The meanness of the woman who longs to injure the man who loves her, +whether loved or unloved, revealed itself for the moment in this +fair-minded, generous girl. (It is a common trait, admitted by many +fair-minded and generous women!) But even as she coddled and encouraged +the little sprout of vengeance, the chill of common-sense rushed up and +blighted it. + +She had a sickening impression that Percival would fail to play the +part according to her conception. In fact, he was quite capable of +not playing it at all. He would pursue the even tenor of his way--(she +actually made use of the time-honoured phrase in her reflections),--and +she would get small satisfaction out of that. + +Moreover, there was Olga Obosky to be reckoned with. She was conscious +of a hot, swiftly passing sense of suffocation as the thought of Olga +rushed unbidden into her brain,--for an instant only,--and then came the +reaction: a queer chill that raced over her body from head to foot. What +part would Olga Obosky play in the game? + +The women congregated on the forward deck of the Doraine after supper +that night. The evening repast was no longer dignified by the word +dinner. The sky was inky black; not a star flickered in the vault above. +There were low, far off mutterings of thunder. The rail lanterns,--few +and far between,--threw their pallid beams down into the rippling basin +in a sickly effort to penetrate the gloom. + +Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott, smoking their pipes on the makeshift +bridge, studied the throng of women in dour silence. + +"I understand the farmers are praying for rain," remarked Mr. Mott, +sniffing the air with considerable satisfaction. + +"It would do no end of good," said Captain Trigger, without taking his +eyes from the chattering mass below. + +Mr. Codge, the purser, joined them. + +"What are they waiting for?" he asked. "Why don't they call the meeting +to order?" + +"They did that half an hour ago," said Mr. Mott. "Good Lord, man, can't +you hear them talking? Have you no ears at all?" + +"But they're all talking at once." + +"And why shouldn't they?" demanded the First Officer. "It's their +meeting, isn't it?" + +"I met Miss Clinton as I was coming up. She was going to her room. +I asked her how the meeting was getting along. I don't believe she +understood me, because all she said was 'good-night.'" + +"I guess she understood you, all right," said Mr. Mott, again sniffing +the air. "Seems to me it's getting a little nearer, Captain Trigger. +There's a little breeze coming up, too." + +"A good thunder-storm,--" began the Captain, musingly, but failed to +complete the sentence. + +"Would settle something besides the dust," said Mr. Codge, after a +deferential wait of a few seconds. + +A figure detached itself from the mass on the weirdly lighted deck below +and, approaching the perch of the three officers, came to a halt almost +directly below them. The light of a lantern fell fairly on the upturned, +smiling face of Olga Obosky. + +"What is the hour, Captain Trigger?" she inquired. + +"Almost nine, Madame Obosky. + +"That is nearly two bells, eh, yes? How peaceful you look up there, you +three old owls." + +"Come up!" invited the Captain cheerily. She joined them a moment later. +"Tell me, are they leaving a shred of Percival and his band of outlaws?" + +Mr. Codge struck a match and held it for her to light a cigarette. +She inhaled deeply and then expelled the smoke in what seemed like a +prolonged sigh of satisfaction. + +"They are very funny, those women," she said, placing her elbows on the +rail and looking down at the crowd. "Do you know what the trouble is +now? It is this: they cannot think of a way to condemn the action +of those men as a body without also including Mr. Percivail in the +verdict." + +"How's that?" + +"Ninety-five per cent, of them want to exonerate Mr. Percivail, but they +don't know how to do it in view of the fact that he is the guiltiest +man of them all. That's why I say they are very funny, those women. They +approve of what he has done in naming the baby, because whatever he does +must be right, but they are almost unanimous in charging that all the +other men out there were wrong. So they are in a great dilemma." + +Captain Trigger laughed. "I see. What was Miss Clinton's position in the +debate?" + +"Oh, she was one of those who insisted that Mr. Percivail alone be held +accountable, the other men not at all. She was the chairman, you see, +and they were oblige to listen to her at first. But zen, presently, one +of those Brazilian ladies said it was a shame to put all the blame on +dear Mr. Percivail, who is such a gentleman and so splendid and all +zat,--and zen--then zat Mrs. Block jump up and say that if it was not +for Mr. Percivail her husband would have been killed last week when he +fell off of the landing into ten sousand feet of water. And the great +Careni-Amori she get up and say she would die for Mr. Percivail because +he is such a gentleman, and two of those nurses at the same time cry out +that he ought to be in the hospital because he is so worn-out working +for other people zat he can hardly drag his poor feet around. And so it +goes. Miss Clinton has departed, her chin in the air. But she does not +deceive me. She has gone to her room to have a good weeping." + +"Well, I wish they'd get together on something," growled the Captain; +"so's we can all go to bed and get a few hours' sleep." + +"Like as not they're keeping the baby awake with all this jabbering," +said Mr. Codge. "And that isn't good for babies, you know. They've got +to have plenty of sleep. Specially little ones." + +"Will you tell me, Captain Trigger, why Mr. Percivail did not come +aboard tonight?" asked Olga suddenly. "They were expecting him." + +"And they were disappointed, eh?" + +"I dare say. At any rate, a good many of them kept peering out over +the water most of the time, and listening for the sound of oars." She +laughed softly. + +The men chuckled. "Talk about strategy," said Mr. Mott, "he's a bird +at it. Keeps 'em guessing, he does. By glory, I wish I'd known how to +handle women as well as he does. I might have been married fifteen +or twenty times if I could have kept 'em anxious and worried,--but +I couldn't. I never did have any sense about women. That's why I'm a +bachelor instead of a grandfather." + +"He told Miss Clinton he was coming," said Olga, harking back to the +unanswered question. + +"I daresay he changed his mind," said the Captain, rather evasively. + +"I do not believe zat. There is some other reason. He is not a woman, +Captain Trigger." + +"Well, to tell you the truth--but don't let it go any farther, +Madame,--he came aboard just before supper to find out how Mrs. Cruise +is getting along. Dr. Cullen told him exactly what all these women down +there know,--that she's very low,--so he went ashore. Said something +about not wanting to take part in any racket that might disturb +her,--noisy talk, and all that,--and left a bunch of wild flowers for +her in case she was better by morning." + +There was a slight noise behind them. Turning, they saw the figure of a +woman in the shadow of the deck house. + +"Who's there?" demanded Mr. Mott. + +Ruth Clinton stepped forward into the light. + +"Did he--did he do that?" she asked huskily. + +"He did," said the Captain. + +"And is she so very ill? I did not know, Captain Trigger." + +"She's likely to die, Miss Clinton,--poor little woman." + +Ruth was silent for a moment. Then: "Do you think she--she can hear all +that hubbub down there?" + +"I am sure she cannot. But Percival was afraid she could, so he--well, +he thought it best not to make it any worse by adding his groans of +agony when you women tore him limb from limb out here on deck. That's +the way he put it, so don't look at me like that." + +Ruth suddenly hung her head and walked away. As she disappeared down the +steps, Mr. Codge remarked, sotto voce: + +"She isn't as rabid as she was, is she?" + +"She's got it in for Percival ever since he took that fall out of +Landover," said Mr. Mott. + +"Think she's--er--keen on Landover? He's a good bit older than she +is,--twenty years or so, I should say." + +"Don't ask me, Codge. As I was saying awhile ago, I don't know anything +whatsoever about women. They know all about me, but, gosh, I'm worse +than a baby goat where they're concerned. There's no law against her +being in love with Landover, and there's no law against him marrying a +woman fifty years younger'n himself if he feels like it. Now you take +that good looking Russian over there talking to the Captain. Who knows +what's in her mind? Nobody, sir,--nobody. All I know is that Landover +tried to--" + +"Sh! They've got ears like cats," cautioned Mr. Codge. + +"--And she put him in his place so quick it made his head swim. That's +why he's got it in for her so hard. He says she's not fit for decent +women to associate with. On the other hand, if she had been willing to +flirt a little with him, and so on, he would have said all the other +women were cats if they refused to take up with her. That's a man all +over for you, Codge. I hope Miss Clinton ain't considering getting +married to that man. He's one of these here what-do-you-call-'ems? Er--" + +"Sybarites?" said Codge, who had picked up a good deal from +conversations with Peter Snipe. + +"That ain't the word," said Mr. Mott. "Now, I'll lay awake all night +trying to think of that word. Damn the luck!" + +He fell into a profound state of mental concentration, from which he was +aroused a few minutes later by the swift and almost unheralded shower +that rushed up ahead of the thunderstorm. The rumble of the "apple +carts" in the vault above had suddenly become ominous, and there were +fitful flares of light in the blackness. + +The indignation meeting broke up in a wild scurry of skirts. It is +worthy of mention that nothing definite had transpired. The speeches of +the ardent suffragettes from the wilds of London were all that the most +exacting could have demanded, for they covered all of the known and a +great many of the unsuspected iniquities that the masculine flesh is +heir to, but except for an introductory sentence or two they failed to +touch upon the object of the meeting. They all began with something +like "While I am frank to admit that Doraine is a very pretty name," or +"Notwithstanding the fact that Doraine is a lovely name," or "If I had +a child of my own, I should not in the least object to calling her +Doraine," and so on and so forth, but they cruelly abandoned the baby in +the next breath, leaving it to be revived by the ensuing speaker. + +The rain came just in time to prevent a vote being taken on a motion +made by Miss Gladys Spotts. She moved that a committee of three be +appointed to serve notice on Captain Trigger, et al, that it was the +unanimous sense of the meeting that the women should not only have +voice and vote on all public questions, but also representation in the +official government. She had learned that there was talk of electing +a mayor, a town clerk, a treasurer, a sheriff and a board of +commissioners, and it ought to be understood in advance that-- + +The torrent came at that instant, but it requires a very slight +stretching of the imagination in order to understand precisely what Miss +Spotts insisted ought to be understood. + +It rained very hard all night, and thundered, and lightened, and blew +great guns. Not one, but all of the women, tucked away in their bunks, +wondered how those poor men were faring out there in that black and +lonely camp! + +The next morning it was still raining. (In fact, it rained steadily for +three days and nights.) Betty Cruise died shortly after daybreak, and +with her death ended the controversy over the naming of her babe. + +She was the first to be laid to rest in the burying-ground on Cape +Sunrise. Services were conducted on the Doraine by the Reverend Mr. +Mackenzie, assisted by Father Francisco. All work was suspended on the +morning of the funeral. Shortly before noon the entire company walked, +in a long, straggling procession, from the landing to the spot three +miles distant where the lonely grave awaited its occupant. Careni-Amori +sang "Lead, Kindly Light" and "Nearer, my God, to Thee," at the +graveside. There were tears in a thousand eyes, and every voice was +husky. To most of these people, Betty Cruise meant nothing, but she was +to lie out there alone on the wind-swept point, and they were deeply +moved. They all went back to work after the midday meal, a strangely +silent, thoughtful company,--even down to the lowliest "Portugee." + +Mr. Mott, the gaunt old cynic, surprised every one, including himself, +by adopting the infant! He announced his decision on the day after the +funeral. + +"That baby's got to have a father and a grandfather and a mother, and +all that," he declared to Captain Trigger, "and I'm going to be all of +them, Weatherby. It ain't legal, I know, and I reckon I'll have to turn +her over to her proper relatives if they make any demand,--provided we +ever get off this island,--but while she's here she's mine, and that +settles it, and as long afterward as God's willing. Chances are that no +one at home will want to be bothered with an infant that don't actually +belong to 'em, so I shouldn't wonder but what I'll have her always. What +are you laughing at?" + +"I was just thinking that you didn't mention anything about being a +grandmother to her." + +"Is that meant to be sarcastic?" + +"Not at all," said the Captain hastily, noting the look in Mr. Mott's +eyes. "But for fear you may think it was, I take it all back, Andrew." + +"I laid awake all last night worrying about how lonely and useless +and unoccupied I'm going to be if we stick here on this island for any +considerable length of time, not to say, always, and I made up my mind +that if I had that kid to bring up, life would be sort of worth while. +I'll probably live a good deal longer if I have something to live and +work for. Ain't that so?" + +"It certainly is," agreed the Captain. "Do you mind my asking how you're +going to feed it?" + +"I've got that all attended to," said Mr. Mott calmly. "I've been to +see three of these women who've got tiny babies, and they've promised +between 'em to nurse this one. It's all fixed, Captain. Of course, I +don't know how it's going to work out, seeing as one of 'em is Spanish, +one of 'em Portugee and the other a full-blooded Indian,--but they're +all healthy." + +"It's very noble of you, Andrew," said the Captain, laying his hand on +the First Officer's shoulder. + +"Absolutely not," snapped Mr. Mott. "It's nothing but plain, rotten +selfishness on my part,--and I don't give a damn who knows it." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Inside of a fortnight after the events just chronicled, the women came +ashore to occupy the practically completed huts. + +The Doraine was deserted except for Captain Trigger and the half-dozen +sailors who remained with him. These sailors were ancient tars whose +lives had been spent at sea. They were grizzled, wizened old chaps. One +of them, Joe Sands, had been an able seaman for forty-six years, and, +despite a perpetual crick in the back, he insisted that he was still +an abler seaman than ninety-five per cent, of the thirty-year-olds +who followed the sea for a living. When Captain Trigger announced his +resolve to stay on board, where he belonged, these vainglorious old +seadogs elected to remain with him to the end. + +The exodus of women was hastened somewhat by the further listing of the +Doraine. This was due primarily to the removal of thousands of tons from +the holds, the galley and the engine room. A more sinister cause for +alarm, however, was the action of the greatly lightened vessel when a +tidal wave swept into the basin from the north. This came at the tag end +of the storm,--on the third day, in fact. The Doraine seemed actually to +be afloat for a few seconds, heaving, shuddering, groaning. Her bottom, +after scraping and grinding and giving up the most unearthly sounds, +suddenly appeared to have freed itself completely from the rocks on +which it was jammed. She seemed on the point of righting herself. Then +she started to roll over on her side! Almost as abruptly she stopped, +shivered, and then lay still again. But she was not in her old position. +She was lying over at least two degrees farther than before the +upheaval. + +This same, tremendous tidal wave, driven up by the strong wind that +had blown steadily and viciously out of the north for three +days,--or perhaps created by some vast internal convulsion of the +earth,--completely inundated the low-lying point of land known as Cape +Sunrise, At least two miles of the island was temporarily under water. +The high ridge lining the shore alone prevented the sea from hurtling +over into the valley to destroy the fields and gardens and even to +imperil the row of huts along the opposite slope. + +Out on Cape Sunrise the waters swept over the lonely grave of Betty +Cruise, but fell back baffled when they attacked the foothills that +protected the homes of the living. There were superstitious persons who +read meaning into this startling visitation of the sea. They made ugly +romance of it. For, said they, the lonely spirit of Jimmy Cruise was +trying to reach its mate,--aye, striving to drag her body down to the +bottom of the sea to lie beside his own. + +As the days went by,--long days that were not governed by any daylight +saving law,--the settlement took on the air and life of a sequestered +village. There was the general warehouse from which stores were +dispensed sparingly by agents selected for such duties. Women and +men went to market and carried home the provender. A fish market was +established; wood-yards, fruit and vegetable booths, a dispensary, and +a general store where leather, cloths of various description, and furs +were to be had by requisition. + +In speaking of the dispensary, Dr. Cullen complacently announced that +the supply of medicine was limited, but that it was nothing to worry +about. He declared bluntly,--and with a twinkle in his eye,--that people +took too much medicine anyhow. + +"Medicine is a luxury," he said. "The more we stuff into people the more +they want, and the less they take the sooner they forget they're sick. +As your doctor, from this time on, I shall be delighted to set your +broken bones, sew up your gashes, and all that sort of thing, but it is +precious little medicine I'll give to you. So don't get sick. The only +epidemic we can have here, according to my judgment, is an epidemic of +good health. Am I right, gentlemen?" + +The two young American doctors put aside their dignity and grinned. + +The wines and liquors from the Doraine were brought ashore and locked +away in the cellar beneath the warehouse. It could be had only on the +doctor's orders. + +"It won't hurt any of us to drink nothing but water for awhile," said +Percival in discussing the matter; "and the chances are we'll be less +likely to hurt each other if we let the grog alone. There'll be no +drinking on this island if I can help it. I understand some of you +men are planning to put the pulp of the algarobo through a process of +fermentation and make chica by the barrel. Well, if I have anything to +say about it, you'll do nothing of the sort. I know that stuff. It's got +more murder in it than anything I've ever tackled. We can make flour out +of that pulp, as some of you know, and that's all we are going to make +out of it. Besides, we can be decent longer on flour than we can on +chica. + +"We'll find it harder to do without tobacco than without booze, and +unless we discover something to take its place we'll be smokeless in +a few weeks. Professor Knapendyke is experimenting with a shrub he has +discovered here. He says it may be a fairly good substitute if properly +cured. But it won't be tobacco, so I guess we may as well make up our +minds to swear off smoking as well as drinking. I hope there's nothing +in the saying that the good die young. Because if there is, we're in for +an epidemic that will wipe out four-fifths of our population in no time +at all. We're going to be so good we'll die like flies." + +The weeks wore on and the fields of grain were harvested. The yield was +not a heavy one, but it was sufficient to justify the rather hap-hazard +experiments. The fifty-odd acres of wheat produced a little over a +thousand bushels. The twenty-acre oat-field had averaged forty bushels. +A few acres of barley, sown broadcast in the calcareous loam along the +coast, amounted to nothing. + +Primitive means for grinding the grain had been devised. This first +crop was being laboriously crushed between roughly made mill-stones, but +before another harvest came along, a mill would be in operation on the +banks of Leap Frog River. + +The exploration of the island had long since been completed. In certain +parts of the dense forest covering the western section there were +magnificent specimens of the Norfolk Island pine. Fruits of the citrous +family were found in abundance; wild cherries, wild grapes, figs, and an +apple of amazing proportions and exceeding sweetness. Pigeons in great +numbers were found, a fact that puzzled Professor Knapendyke not a +little. + +He finally arrived at an astonishing conclusion. He connected the +presence of these birds with the remark-able exodus of wild pigeons from +their haunts in the United States in the eighties. Millions of pigeons +at that time took their annual flight southward from Michigan, Indiana +and other states in that region, and were never seen again. What became +of this prodigious cloud of birds still remains a mystery. Knapendyke +now advanced the theory that in skirting the Gulf of Mexico on their way +to the winter roosts in Central America they were caught by a hurricane +and blown out to sea. By various stages the bewildered survivors of the +gale made their way down the east coast of South America, only to +be caught up again by another storm that carried them out into the +Atlantic. A few reached this island, hundreds of miles from the +mainland, and here they remained to propagate. At any rate, the +naturalist was preparing to put his impressions and deductions into the +form of a paper which he intended to submit to the National Geographic +Magazine as soon as he returned to the United States. + +The more practical Mr. Fitts decided to start a squab farm. + +A few of the giant iguanas were seen, and many smaller ones. The meat +of the iguana is a great delicacy. There were no beasts of prey, no +herbaceous animals. + +Lookouts on Top o' the Morning Peak reported the presence of monstrous +birds at rare intervals. Where they came from and whither they went no +one could tell. There were unscalable cliffs and crags at the western +end of the island, and it is possible that they had their nests among +them. + +Lieutenant Platt described the first of these huge birds as being at +least thirty feet from tip to tip. It flew low above the top of Split +Mountain and disappeared beyond the hills to the west. When first +descried by one of the lookouts, this bird was far out over the ocean, +approaching the island from the east. As it soared over the heads of the +men, several hundred feet above them, its wings full spread, it was more +like a small monoplane than a bird. In colour it was a dirty yellow, +with a black belly and head. Before any one could procure a gun from the +hut it was out of range, flying at an incredible speed. A few days later +another was seen, coming from the same direction. It was flying much +higher, and a few futile shots were fired at it. Then, after a week or +ten days without a single one of the monsters being seen, five of them +appeared in the west and flew eastward over the island and out to sea. + +"What was the name of that passenger-carrying bird they were always +talking about in the 'Arabian Nights'?" inquired Platt. + +"You mean the roc," replied Knapendyke. "If it ever really existed +outside of the fairy tales, it is now extinct. The nearest thing to it +in size is the condor, I suppose." + +"I've seen some whopping big condors up in the Andes," said Percival, +"but twelve feet from tip to tip was what the natives called a +full-grown specimen. What do you make of these birds, Flattner?" + +"After seeing an iguana eighteen feet long, I'm ready to believe +anything. A protracted and an enforced spell of sobriety is the only +thing that keeps me from diagnosing my own case as delirium tremens. +There's one thing sure. Birds as big as these, and iguanas as huge as +the three we've seen,--to say nothing of the enormous flying fish Morris +Shine claims to have seen,--take me back to the Dark Ages. I daresay +we're seeing the tag end of the giants. God knows how old these birds +and reptiles are,--hundreds of years, at least. I'd give almost anything +to get one of those birds and stuff him. There was once a flying animal +known as the pteranodon. It has been extinct for millions of years. +Belonged to the class called pterodactyls. Who knows? If you fellows +could shoot for sour apples, I'd have one of 'em." + +Christmas and New Year's day, long since past, had been celebrated in +a mild, half-hearted way on board the Doraine. Easter was drawing +near, and Ruth Clinton took upon herself the task of arranging special +services for the children. She was going ahead with her plans when +her aunt, with some bitterness, advised her to consult the "King of +Babylon"--(a title surreptitiously accorded Percival by the unforgiving +lady)--before committing herself too deeply to the enterprise. + +"It would be just like him to cut Easter out of the calendar +altogether," said she. + +"He cannot possibly have any objection to an Easter service," protested +Ruth, her brow puckering. + +"There's no telling what he will object to," said Mrs. Spofford. + +"He is really quite tenderhearted, and awfully fond of children, you +know. I am sure he will be very much pleased with the--Besides," she +broke off to say with considerable heat, "Mr. Percival is not as high +and mighty as he imagines himself to be. Other people have something +to say about the management of this camp. You forget,--and so does he +perhaps,--that we have a council of ten. I rather fancy--" + +"Pooh!" sniffed her aunt. "He is worse than all the Tammany bosses put +together. The other men on the council of ten eat out of his hand, as +Abel Landover says. His word is law,--or, I should have said, his smile +is law. All he has to do is to grin and the argument is over. I've +never seen anything like the way people give in when he smiles. It is +disgusting." + +"Please don't forget, Auntie, that he did not smile on Saturday when +Manuel Crust stopped him in front of the meeting-house and said he was +going to take Sunday off from work up in the woods. He didn't smile +then, did he? And there were a dozen men planning to take the day off +with Manuel Crust, too." + +"I confess I was frightened," admitted Mrs. Spofford, with a slight +shudder. "That Manuel Crust is a--a dangerous man. He carries a knife. I +saw it." + +"Were your sympathies with Manuel Crust or Mr. Percival? Answer, +please." + +"Naturally, my dear, I--why, of course, they were with Percival. He was +one man against a dozen. Besides, he does represent law and order. I +have never questioned that, have I?" + +"Weren't you a weeny, teeny bit proud of him yesterday, Aunt Julia?" + +"Weren't you?" countered the other. + +"I could have hugged him," exclaimed Ruth, her eyes sparkling. "I hate +him,--mind you,--but I could have hugged him, just the same." + +Mrs. Spofford looked searchingly into the girls clear, shining eyes. + +"I wish I knew just how much you hate him, Ruth." + +"Be honest, Auntie. What you mean is, how little I hate him; isn't that +so?" + +"I don't believe you hate him at all." + +"Well, the first chance you get, ask him how much I hate him. He will +tell you. Now let's talk about Easter Sunday. I don't in the least see +why I should go down on my knees to Mr. Percival in order to--" + +"Manuel Crust went down on his knees, didn't he?" + +"Don't be silly! Manuel Crust was leading a strike. I am arranging a +sacred entertainment." + +"Still, if I were you, my dear, I would ask him what he thinks about +it." + +"All right," cried Ruth, "I'll ask him. And what's more, I shall ask him +to sing in the choir. He will love it." + +Not only did Percival promise to sing in the choir, but he eagerly +offered to help her with the decorations. But when she announced that +she was going up into the hills in quest of the little red winter +berries that grew in profusion, he flatly put his foot down on the +project. + +"I don't feel any too sure of Manuel Crust and his gang," said he. +"They're in an ugly mood and they are brutes, Miss Clinton. Don't be +alarmed. They're not likely to molest you or any one else, but I don't +believe in taking chances. Just at present they're pretty sore at me +and they're doing all they can to stir up discord. It will work out all +right in the end, of course. They may be beasts but they're not fools." + +"Is it true that Manuel Crust claims that every man should have his +woman?" she asked steadily. + +He was surprised by the frank, unembarrassed question. "Crust is about +as vile as they make them, Miss Clinton. Most of these fellows are +decent, however." + +"But you have not answered my question." + +"I will answer it by saying that if he has any such notion as that in +his mind he will have it taken out of him in short order if he attempts +to put it into practice. The women on this island will be protected, +Miss Clinton, if we have to kill Manuel Crust and his fol-lowers. It +is true he has been preaching that sort of gospel among the vicious +and ignorant Portugees and half-casts, but it's all talk. Don't pay any +attention to it." + +"We can't help being worried. Suppose his following is much larger than +you think. They are a rough, lawless crowd, and--" + +"Ninety-five per cent, of the men here are decent. That's the only +comfort I can give you." He smiled his whimsical smile. "I think you +will find that you will be courted in the regular, old-fashioned way, +and proposed to with as much solemnity and uncertainty as if you were +back at home, and it will be left for you to choose your own husband. We +have two ministers of the gospel here, you know. I predict some rather +violent courtships, and perhaps a few ill-advised marriages, but you may +rest assured that no man is going to claim you until you claim him." + +He was looking straight into her eyes. She felt the blood mounting to +her cheek,--and was conscious of a strange, delicious sensation as of +peril stealing over her. + +"You are most reassuring," she managed to say, scarcely above a whisper, +and then paused expectant. + +Afterwards she was shamed by the exquisite pain of anticipation that +had coursed through her in that moment of waiting. She never could quite +account for the temporary weakness that assailed her and left her mute +and helpless under the spell of his eyes. She only knew that she waited +expectant,--for something that never came! What she might have said in +response, what she might have done if he had uttered the words she was +prepared to hear, she did not care to contemplate, even in the privacy +of her own thoughts. She only knew that she was ashamed of the thrill +that went over her and strangely bitter toward him for being the cause +of it. She would not admit to herself that disappointment had anything +to do with it,--for she found herself arguing, nothing could have been +more distressing than to rebuff him when he seemed so eager to help her +in her plans for Easter Sunday. + +The fact remains, however, that Percival held his tongue, and she never +quite understood why he did. + +The time and the place of this encounter invited confession. There was +a full moon in the heavens, the night was still, the air crisp with the +tang of October in the north,--and they were alone in the shadow of the +"tabernacle." Lights gleamed in the little windows that stretched to +the right and left of them. Far off somewhere in the dark, an unseen +musician was gently thrumming a fandango on his Spanish guitar. She had +been on her way home from Careni-Amori's cabin, where she had gained the +prima-donna's promise to sing, when she saw him, walking slowly across +the "Green." His hands were clasped behind his back, his head was bent. +She experienced a sudden rush of pity for him,--she knew not why, except +that he looked lonely and forgotten. It was she who turned aside from +her course and went out across the Green to join him. + +"You are most reassuring," she had said. The dusky light of the moon +fell full upon her upturned face; her shadowy, limpid eyes were looking +straight into his; enchantment charged the air with its soft and +languorous breath,--and yet he looked away! + +After a moment he spoke. His voice was steady and,--to her,--almost +sardonic. + +"The day of the cave-man is past. Likewise the cannibal. I think I can +promise that you will neither be beaten nor eaten,--but you do run a +little risk in being abroad on such a night as this,--and alone." + +She stiffened. "I don't think there is the slightest danger, Mr. +Percival." + +"I wasn't thinking of danger," he said. "There is a lot of difference +between danger and consequences. You see, you might have been mistaken +in your man. I might have turned out to be Manuel Crust." + +"I--I--I was sure it was you," she stammered, and wished she had not +said it. It was a confession that she knew his figure so well that she +could recognize it in the gloom of the night and at a distance that +should have rendered him almost invisible. + +"Even so, I am Manuel's brother under the skin," he said. "Like Judy +O'Grady and the Colonel's lady, you know. However, all's well that ends +well, so what's the use of magnifying the peril that stalks through the +land." + +"You were brought up on the good, old-fashioned novels, I see. That's +the language of heroes,--and heroes live only in novels, where they are +perfectly safe from harm, thanks to the benevolent author." + +"You're right. I was brought up among the old-fashioned heroes. I lived +through every adventure they had, I longed for every girl they loved, +I envied everything they did, and I dreamed the most beautiful dreams +about prowess and virtue and love. I rather fancy I'm a better man +for having been a swashbuckling boy. I acquired the generous habit of +falling in love with every heroine I read about, and in my thoughts I +performed even more prodigious deeds of valour in her behalf than the +hero to whom she inevitably plighted her troth in the final chapter. In +real life, however, I've never been in a position to do anything more +heroic than give up my seat in trolley-cars to ladies of all ages,--By +the way, have you never longed desperately to be a heroine?" + +"Of course, I have," she cried, smiling in spite of herself. Her eyes +were sparkling again, for the danger was past. "And I have loved a +hundred heroes,--madly." She hesitated and then went on impulsively: "We +haven't been very friendly, Mr. Percival. Perhaps I am to blame. In any +case, you have been very generous and forbearing. That is more than I +have been. I never thought I could bring myself to the point of saying +this to you. Can't we be friends again?" + +He was silent for a moment. + +"Do you mean to go back to where we were before--Well, before we +clashed?" + +"Yes,--if you will put it in that way." + +"I can't go back to that stage," he said, shaking his head. "You may +have stood still, Miss Clinton, but I have progressed." + +"I don't know what you mean." + +"You will, after you reflect awhile," he said. + +She drew back, in a sudden panic. She spoke hurriedly, her composure +wrecked. + +"I--at least, Mr. Percival, I have done my part. If you do not care +to be friends, I--I have nothing more to say. We must go on just as we +were,--and I am sorry. I have done my part." + +"I do not want to distress you," he said huskily. "If I were to tell +you why it is best for us to go on as we are, you would lose what little +faith you may still have in me. I have not always been able to conceal +my feelings. You do not care as I do,--and I have been pretty much of +a rotter in showing you just how I feel from time to time,--an ordinary +bounder, and God knows I hate the word,--so there's nothing more I can +say without distressing and offending you. I want you to feel perfectly +secure so far as I am concerned. We are out here alone in the night. If +I were to let go of myself now and say what I want to say to you,--well, +you would be frightened and hurt and,--God knows I wouldn't hurt you for +the world. I hope you understand, Miss Clinton." + +She had had time to fortify herself. + +"Yes,--I understand," she said, but not without a strange wonder filling +her mind. + +He was fair,--and yet he was baffling. She had not expected this rare +trait in him. Men she had known were not like this. The men who loved +her,--and they had been many,--were impetuous and insistent, demanding +much and offering everything,--vain-glorious warriors who counted +confidently on easy conquest. She had come in contact with but one class +of men: the spoiled, cocksure sons of the rich who love in haste and +have it over with while there is yet time to love again. She caught +herself guiltily wondering how many men of her acquaintance would have +allowed this engaging opportunity to pass without making the most of it! +And why should this man be different from the others? She experienced a +sharp feeling of irritation, and out of that sprang the wilful desire to +hurt him because he was different. So she lifted her chin, and looking +straight into his eyes, said: "I understand perfectly. You prefer that I +should not put you in the class with Manuel Crust." + +"I'm not quite certain that Manuel's way of handling women isn't the +best after all," he said musingly. "Ride over 'em rough-shod, trample +them under foot, kick them to one side and then ask them whether they +love you or not. If they say they don't, all you have to do is to behave +like a gentleman and leave them alone." + +She laughed. "But suppose they were to say they did love you,--what +then?" + +"That, I understand, is what they generally do say,--and it causes a +great deal of trouble for the unfortunate gentleman." + +"Are you never in earnest, Mr. Percival?" + +"I was very much in earnest a moment ago. You knew how much in earnest I +was or you wouldn't have said that nasty thing about Manuel Crust." + +"I am sorry I said it," she cried. "It was uncalled for,--and I was +deliberately trying to be mean." + +"I knew it," he said quietly. "I don't think any the worse of you for +it. A woman plays fair until you get her into a corner,--and then she +plays fairer than ever to make up for what she did when cornered. Am I +not right?" + +She did not reply. She was staring past him, down the line of huts. The +door of Olga Obosky's cabin had opened and closed, projecting for an +instant an oblong block of light into the darkness. The figure of a +woman, emerging into the full light of the moon, had caught Ruth's +attention. Percival turned quickly. Together they watched the figure +move swiftly across the Green toward them. Suddenly it stopped, and +then, after a moment, whirled and made off down the line of cabins, soon +to be swallowed up by the gloom. + +"Were you expecting some one?" inquired Ruth, icily. + +He was still looking intently into the far-reaching gloom. Neither had +spoken for many seconds. He started, and looked searchingly into her +eyes. + +"That was Madame Obosky," he said. + +"I know. I recognized her," said she evenly. + +"And you believe she was coming out here to meet me,--isn't that so?" + +She drew herself up. "I shall have to say good night, Mr. Percival. No! +It is not necessary for you to walk home with me." + +He placed himself in front of her. "Would you mind answering my +question?" + +"Yes," she flashed, "I think she was coming out here to meet you. Permit +me to pass, please." + +He stood aside. "Good night, Miss Clinton." + +He watched her until the door of her cabin swung open,--and he smiled +as she stood revealed for an instant in the square of light, for she had +obeyed the impulse to glance over her shoulder. + +She was angry, hurt, disgusted as she slammed the door behind her. + +"Where have you been?" cried out an accusing voice, and Ruth's gaze fell +upon the figure in one of the deck chairs beside the fire. "I have been +waiting for you for--" + +"How long have you been here?" cried the girl, stock-still and staring. + +"If Mrs. Spofford had not been so entertaining, I should say for hours +and hours," said Madame Obosky. + +"As a matter of fact," said Mrs. Spofford from her side of the +fireplace, "it hasn't been more than an hour. Madame Obosky came soon +after you went out, dear." + +"But--but I saw you just now coming out of your cabin," cried Ruth +blankly. She had a queer sensation as of the floor giving way beneath +her. + +"You saw--Oh, now I understand!" cried the Russian, with a laugh. "Zose +girls of mine! Zey--they are like so many grandmothers. They will not go +to bed until zey know I am safely tucked in myself. Alas, Mrs. Spofford, +zose girls do not trust me, I fear. If I go out at night alone, zey +instantly put their heads together and shake zem all at the same time. +So that is what has happen, Miss Clinton. One of them,--Alma, I suspect, +because she had a sister who,--Yes, it would be Alma, I am sure,--in any +case, one of zem comes out to get me, so like a policeman. But still I +do not understand something. I have told them I was coming here to see +you. If it was one of my girls, why has she not come?" + +Ruth had turned away, ostensibly to pull down the little window shade +but really to send a swift searching glance out across the Green. + +"She went the other way," she replied, rather breathlessly. + +Olga sprang to her feet. "Now, what is zat little fool up to?" she +cried, angrily. "If I catch her running out to meet men at zis hour +of--" + +Ruth interrupted her. "She started in this direction but when she saw +us, she turned and went the other way. I was talking to Mr. Percival +out near the meeting-house. About the Easter services, Auntie," she made +haste to say as Mrs. Spofford looked up in surprise. + +Olga was looking at her fixedly, an odd expression in her eyes, her lips +slightly parted. + +"He has promised to help me. He is delighted to sing in the choir. +Madame Careni-Amori will sing two solos. She promises to make Joseppi +sing one or two. I--I was discussing the arrangements with Mr. +Percival." + +"Now I understand," said Olga, gaily, but with the odd, inquiring look +still in her eyes. "Alma thought it was I. I have zem very well-trained, +those girls. She sees me with a man,--zip! She runs the other way as +fast as she can! That is the height of propriety,--is it not, Mrs. +Spofford?" + +"I do not quite understand what you mean, Madame Obosky." + +"Why did he say it was you?" cried Ruth, hot with chagrin. + +Olga shrugged her shoulders. "He is so very amiable," said she. "I dare +say he thought it would please you." + +Ruth bit her lip. There was no mistaking the challenge in the Russian's +remark, however careless it may have sounded. + +"I came to see you about Mr. Percivail's birthday," said Olga, abruptly +changing the subject. "Some one has suggested zat we all join in giving +him a grand great big celebration. Bonfires, fire-works, a banquet with +speeches, and all zat kind of thing. What do you think, eh?" + +"He wouldn't like it at all," said Ruth promptly. "Moreover, why should +we celebrate his birthday? He doesn't deserve it any more than scores of +other--" + +"Oh, then we must drop it altogether," broke in Olga, rather +plaintively. "I thought every one would be in favour of it. But, of +course, if there is the slightest opposition--" + +"I do not oppose it," said Ruth coldly. "Pray do not let me upset your +plans." + +"It is not my plan. Zat nice, sarcastic Mr. Fitts, and Mr. Malone, and +Captain Trigger, they have proposed it, Miss Clinton, not I. But men +never quite get over being boys. They do not stop to question whether +a thing is right or wrong. I dare say after they have thought a little +longer over it, zey will agree with you that it is foolish to be so +enthusiastic about this fellow Percivail,--and the whole project will +dissolve into thin air." + +Her hand was on the latch. She met Ruth's harassed, unhappy gaze +with her indolent, almost insolent, smile. Suddenly the American girl +snatched up her jacket and the little fur collar she had thrown across a +chair in the corner. + +"If you don't mind, I will walk part of the way home with you," she +said. + +Olga opened the door and looked out. "Thank you,--I am not afraid. Pray +do not think of it,--I cannot permit you to come. It is late,--and the +moon is under the clouds. Good night,--good night, Mrs. Spofford." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +She quickly closed the door behind her and sped off down the line of +now lightless cabins. A man stepped out of the black shadow beyond +the second cabin and stood in her path. She did not pause, but walked +swiftly, fearlessly up to him, her heart quickening under the thrill of +exultation. He was waiting for her! He had been waiting for her all the +long evening. The time had come! + +The night was dark now; a strong wind had sprung up to drive the black +and storm-laden clouds across the moonlit sky. She held out her hands +with a little moan of ecstasy,--and then she was in his strong, crushing +arms, pressed fiercely to his breast. + +"God, can I believe,--is it true? You have come,--you have come of your +own free will,--you are here in my arms!" His hot lips found hers in a +wild, passionate kiss. "Speak to me! Tell me it is all real,--that I am +not dreaming. Oh, Ruth, Ruth,--darling!" + +Her body stiffened. A convulsive shudder raced over her, and then, for +an instant, she was limp and heavy in his embrace. Then suddenly she +threw her arms about his neck and kissed him furiously, savagely, again +and again,--breaking away at last with a low, suffocating laugh. + +"Now,--now,-" she cried, "now, what are you going to do with me?" + +He lifted his head with a jerk, peering into her face, slow to realize +the incredible mistake he had made. He was still under the spell of the +riotous passion that her lustful response had aroused. It had rushed +over him like a great, resistless wave,--hot, delicious, tingling. He +had been amazed, bewildered by the unbelievable craving,--furious and +uncontrolled,--which she revealed in her momentary surrender to the +elemental. The truth began to dawn upon him even before she spoke. Could +this be Ruth,--could this unbridled, voluptuous wanton who clung to him +and smothered him with kisses be the pure, high-minded girl he had grown +to love and revere? She spoke, and then he knew that the consuming fire +in his blood was unholy,--as unholy as the spark that set it ablaze. + +"Damn you!" he whispered hoarsely,--but he did not put her away from +him. The lure of the flesh was upon him. It was stronger than his will, +stronger than his love. + +For months this woman had beguiled him. There had been times when he was +compelled to fight himself,--times when he asked: "Why not?" + +She was alluring, she was frankly a sensualist; but she was patient, she +was crafty. She knew that he was honourably in love with another, but +she was not deterred by that nor by the conviction that her conquest, +if she prevailed, would be transitory. She had a code of her own. It +included an uncertain element of honour, fixed rather rigidly upon what +she would have called constancy. Singleness of purpose was her notion of +morality. She would not have believed herself to be a bad woman any more +than she would have looked upon her lover as a bad man. To her, morality +in its accepted sense signified no more than the suppression of human +emotions and human sensations. As a matter of fact, she considered +herself a good woman if for no other reason than that she steadfastly +had repelled the munificent appeals of countless infatuated men. +Treasure had been laid at her feet, only to be kicked aside. She calmly +spoke of herself as a pearl without price. She was content to possess, +but not to be possessed. That was what she called self-respect. She was +a pagan, but she was her own idol. She worshipped herself. She would +never permit her idol to be desecrated. + +All this Percival knew,--or rather sensed. He was not above feeling +a queer sort of respect and admiration for her. She was not without +integrity. + +He had reached the pinnacle of happiness in believing that the girl he +loved was in his arms. He was blind and deaf with ecstasy. The awakening +was a shock. His senses reeled for an instant,--and then Ruth Clinton +went out of his thoughts entirely! + +"Damn you!" he cried again, and drew her close. "She hates me,--she +will always hate me," he was mumbling. "Why should I care? Why should +I refuse to take--" Her lips were on his again, warm, firm, voluptuous, +drawing his heart's blood with the resistless power of a magnet. + +They did not hear the rapid approach of footsteps--heavy, swift as of +one running. A dark, panting figure raced past them, and then another +but a few paces behind. + +Percival's senses were released. They cast off the bewitching bonds. His +head went up again. In a flash his brain was clear. His arms were still +about her, she was still lying close against him,--but the current of +passion that consumed both of them was checked. + +"What was that?" she gasped, as if coming out of a dream. + +He released her, and sprang out into the path to peer fruitlessly after +the unseen runners. The sound of footsteps was rapidly diminishing. + +They were suddenly aware of women's voices far away to the right. +They were indistinct but there was a sinister significance in the +ever-increasing volume. + +"There's trouble out there," said Percival. "Something wrong. +Come,--come along! You must get indoors at once." He grasped her arm +and started rapidly off in the direction of her cabin. She stumbled +at first, but quickly fell into stride with him. Men's shouts were now +added to the clamour. + +"I know,--I know," she cried in his ear. "It has happened, just as I +said it would. Some of these men are beasts." + +"Then, there's hell to pay," he grated. + +They reached her cabin just as the door was thrown open. The three +startled coryphees filled the entrance. Recognition was followed by a +clatter of agitated voices. Olga was fairly dragged into the cabin. + +"Bolt your door," was Percival's command as he turned away. + +She stood in the door for a moment, looking after him. He passed out +of the radius of light. The chorus of voices grew louder down the +way,--like the make-believe mob in the theatre. + +Then she closed the door slowly, reluctantly. The three girls watched +her in silence as she stood for many seconds with her hand on the knob, +her eyes tightly shut. + +She turned and faced them. There was a wry smile on her lips as +she shrugged her shoulders and spread out her hands in a gesture of +resignation. + +"Yes,--bolt the door," she said. As Alma hesitated, her eyes grew hard, +her voice imperative. "Do you know of any reason why you should not do +as both Mr. Percivail and I have commanded?" + +"No,--no, Madame," cried Alma hastily. + +As the heavy wooden bolt fell into place, Olga again shrugged her +shoulders and threw herself into a chair in front of the fireplace. + +"Put on your clothes," she ordered. + +"What is happening, Madame? What is all the noise about?" questioned one +of the girls. + +But there was no answer. Olga was staring into the fire. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Percival's blood was still in a tumult as he ran down the line of +cabins. From every doorway men were now stumbling, half-dressed, +half-asleep. Behind them, in many cabins, alarmed, agitated women +appeared. Farther on there were lanterns and a chaotic mass of moving +objects. Above the increasing clamour rose the horrible, uncanny wail +of a woman. Percival's blood cooled, his brain cleared. Men shouted +questions as he passed, and obeyed his command to follow. + +The ugly story is soon told. Philippa, the fifteen-year-old daughter of +Pedro, the head-farmer, had gone out from her father's cabin at dusk +to fetch water from the little reservoir that had been constructed +alongside Leap Frog River a short distance above the cabins. The pool +was a scant two hundred yards from her home. It was a five minutes' +walk there and back. Half-an-hour passed, and she had not returned. Her +mother became uneasy. Pedro reassured her. He laughed at her fears. + +"She could not have fallen into the pool," he said. "You forget the +fence we have built around it." + +"I am not thinking of the pool, Pedro," she argued. "Go you at once and +search for her. She is no laggard. She has not stopped in to see one of +the girls." + +And Pedro went grumpily forth to search for his daughter. An hour later +he came staggering down from the woods above the pool to meet the dozen +or more friends and neighbours who had set out some-time earlier to look +for the two of them, father and daughter. + +He bore in his arms the limp, apparently lifeless form of Philippa. +He was covered with blood, he was chattering like a madman. Out of his +incoherent babble the horrified searchers were able to put together the +cruel story. It seems he had heard a faint cry far back in the dense +wood,--another and yet another. Then utter silence. Even the night-birds +were still. Swift, paralysing fear choked him. He tried to call out as +he rushed blindly up from the pool into the forest, but only hoarse, +unnatural gasps left his lips. He fell often, he crashed into the trunks +of trees, but always he went onward, gasping out his futile cries. He +knew not how long he beat through the forest. He was not even sure +that it was Philippa's cry he had heard, but his soul was filled with a +great, convincing dread. He knew that his beloved Philippa, the idol +of his heart, the sunshine of his life, was up there in the woods. +Frequently he stopped to listen. He could hear nothing save the pounding +of his own heart, and the wheezing of his breath, thick and laboured. + +Then, at last, during one of those silences, he heard something moving +in the darkness near at hand. Something--some one was coming toward him +through the underbrush. He called out hoarsely: "Philippa!" The sound +ceased instantly, and then he heard a whispered execration. Wild rage +possessed him. He plunged forward into the brush. Something crashed down +upon his head, and he felt himself falling forward. The next he knew, +he was trying vainly to rise to his feet. Something hot was running into +his eyes,--hot and sticky. He lifted his hand to his head; it came away +wet. He put his fingers into his mouth,-and tasted blood! It was +enough. His strength came back. He sprang to his feet and rushed onward, +shouting, cursing, calling upon God! He had no recollection of finding +his girl. Apparently everything was a blank to him until long afterwards +he saw lights moving among the trees, and voices were calling his name. + +Percival and other cool-headed men were hard put to check the fury of +the mob. Men and women, bent on vengeance, made the night hideous with +their curses, howls and shrieks. In their senseless fury they prepared +to kill. They had heard the stories about Manuel Crust and his +disciples. Only the determined stand taken by the small group that +rallied to Percival's support kept the maddened crowd from seeking out +these men and rending them limb from limb. The sailors from the Doraine +were the first to listen to the pleas of the level-headed,--just as they +had been the first to demand the lives of Manuel Crust and his gang. +Individually they were rough men and lawless, collectively they were +the slaves of discipline. It was to their vanity that Percival and the +others appealed,--only they called it honour instead of vanity. The mob +spirit was--quelled for the time being, at least. No one was so foolish +as to believe that it was dead, however. Unless the man guilty of the +shocking crime was found and delivered up for punishment, the inevitable +would happen. + +"We'll get the right man," said the voice of universal fury, "if we have +to cut the heart out of every one of Manuel Crust's gang." + +The women were the worst. They fought like wildcats to reach the cabins +occupied by the known followers of Manuel Crust. With knives and axes +and burn-ing faggots they tried again and again to force their way +through the stubborn wall of men that had been raised against them. + +As for Manuel Crust and his little group of radicals, they had vanished. +They had mingled with the mob at the outset. There were many who +recalled seeing this one and that one, remembered speaking to him, +remembered hearing him curse the ravisher. But as their own names began +to run from lip to lip, they silently, swiftly disappeared. + +Dawn found the camp awake, but grimly silent. No one had gone to bed. +With the first streak of day, the man-hunt began in earnest. All night +long the camp had been patrolled. Every cabin had been searched, even +those occupied solely by women. This search had been conducted in +an orderly, business-like way under the supervision of men chosen by +Percival. The folly of beating the woods during the night was recognized +even by the most impatient; there was time enough for that when the +blackness of night had lifted. + +Throughout the long night, the restless crowd, with but one thought in +mind, hung about the cabin of Pedro the farmer. The doctors and several +of the nurses were in there. Down at the meeting-house a bonfire had +been started, and here were grouped the men to whom the leaders had +intrusted firearms and other weapons,--men of the gun crew, under +officers from the Doraine, the committee of ten and others. + +It was accepted as a fact that two men were involved in the heinous +deed. Percival's account of the mysterious runners seemed definitely to +establish this. He called upon Olga Obosky to verify his statement. If +she was surprised by his admission that he was in her company when the +men rushed past them in the darkness, she did not betray the fact. She +indulged in a derisive smile when he went on to explain that it was so +dark he had failed to recognize her until she spoke to him. She agreed +with him that the two men must have come into the open a very short +distance above them, having sneaked out between the cabins before +suddenly breaking into a run. Avoiding the beaten roadway, they had laid +their course twenty or thirty feet to the right of it, keeping to the +soft, springy turf. + +Percival had issued orders for the entire camp to congregate on the +Green at the first sign of day. The cold grey light of dawn fell upon +vague, unreal forms moving across the open spaces from all directions. +There was no shouting, no turmoil, scarcely the sound of a voice. The +silent, ghostly figures merged into a compact, motionless mass in front +of the meetinghouse. It was not necessary for Percival to call for order +when he appeared on the steps and began to speak. The only sounds were +the shuffling of feet, the rustling of garments, the deep, restrained +breathing of the mass. + +He spoke partly in English and partly in Spanish, and he was brief. + +"You know what we are here for and what is ahead of us. I don't have to +tell you the story of last night. You know it as well as I. You will be +glad to hear the latest word from Dr. Cullen. Philippa is conscious. He +thinks she will recover. She is having the best of care and attention. I +will explain why we are all here now. The first thing for us to do is to +count noses. We will go about it as rapidly as possible. After that, we +will get down to business. Mr. Landover and Mr. Malone will check off +the name of every man, woman and child. As your names are called, come +forward, answer, and then move over beyond the corner of the building. +We've got to find out just who is missing,--if any one is missing at +all." + +He raised his voice. "I want you all to keep cool. Don't forget that we +are after the men who committed this crime. We have no right to say that +Manuel Crust or any of his crowd did this thing until we have positive +proof of the fact. It may not have been any of Manuel's gang, don't +forget that, people. We must make no mistakes. I am saying this to you +now because I see Manuel Crust and some of his friends standing over +there at the edge of the clearing. Stop! Don't make a move in their +direction. We've all had time to think,--we've all had time to get +ourselves in hand. There is a right and a wrong way to handle this +thing,--and we've got to be sure we're right. The guilty cannot escape. +They haven't a chance, and you know it. So, let's be sure,--let's be +dead sure before we accuse any man. We have no right to charge Manuel's +gang with this crime. The guilty men may be here among us,--absolutely +unsuspected. Chizler! You and Soapy Shay go over and tell those men that +we are taking a count of all the people in this camp. Tell them to come +and answer to their names. They will be safe." + +The count was never completed. Manuel Crust did not wait for his name +to be called. He pushed his way through the crowd, leaving his followers +behind. Advancing to the foot of the steps he cried out hoarsely to +Percival: + +"If you want your men, I--I, Manuel Crust, will lead you to one of them. +He is up there in the wood. Three men are guarding him. He is Sancho +Mendez, the blacksmith. Listen, I will tell you. It is the God's truth +I tell. There were seven of us hiding out there in the wood. We were +scared. We heard our names called out. We had heard the threats to burn +us alive. We ran away. We were not cowards,--but still we ran away. We +would wait till the crowd cooled off. That was my advice. Then we would +return,--then we would help to find the men who did it,--and we would +help to burn them alive. An hour ago Sancho Mendez crawled out of the +brush up there above the landing and begged us to protect him. His leg +was broken. He had fallen over a log. You all know Sancho Mendez. He was +a good boy. He was the friend of Boss Percival. He was no friend to me. +But he swears he will be my slave for ever if I will save him. Then he +tells us everything. When I ask him why the hell he run away, he says he +lose his mind or something. He just go crazy, he says. He say everybody +was chasing him,--he could hear them in the bushes, he could hear that +girl screaming out his name,--and all that. He was going to jump in the +water and drown, because he say people tell him always it is the easy +way to die. But he falls down and breaks his leg,--here below the knee. +He cannot run no more. It is all up. He is afraid to breathe. People are +all around him with knives and axes and clubs. He can hear them in the +brush. Then the daylight comes, and he sees us down below in the wood, +and he says he thanks God. I will be his friend,--I will save him +because I am an angel from heaven! Bah! I spit in his face. We tie him +to a tree with our belts, and then I come down to tell Boss Percival we +have his man,--his good and loyal friend." + +"Stop!" yelled Percival, as the crowd began to show symptoms of breaking +away. "Listen to me! I give you fair warning. I don't want to do it, +but, by God, I'll order these men to shoot the first who tries to start +anything. We're going to have law and order here. This man Sancho is +going to have a fair trial. What's more, he had a companion. What does +he say of the other man, Manuel Crust?" + +"Sancho Mendez says he was alone. There was no other man." + +Percival looked hard into Manuel Crust's bloodshot eyes. An appalling +thought had suddenly flashed into his mind. Many seconds passed before +he dared to open his lips. As if by divine revelation the situation lay +bare before him,--the whole Machiavelian scheme as conceived by Manuel. +Sancho Mendez was to be sacrificed! + +Even as he stood there speechless, the plan began to work toward its +well-calculated end. Manuel's friends started to harangue the crowd. +They were growling hoarse invectives, shaking their fists in the +direction of the wood, fanning the pent-up fury of the mob into a +whirlwind that would sweep everything before it. Once the tide turned +there would be no stopping it until Sancho Mendez was torn to pieces. He +would shriek his innocence into deaf ears. And that was Manuel's game. + +Percival's heart leaped with joy as he saw the armed force under +Lieutenant Platt move swiftly into a position barring the way to the +woods. He thrilled with a mighty pride in the shrewd intelligence and +resourcefulness of this trained fighting-man from the far-off homeland. + +Manuel Crust was turning away to mingle with the crowd. Quick as a +flash, Percival was down from the steps and at the "Portugee's" side. He +grasped the man's arm. + +"I've got a gun against your back," he cried in fierce suppressed tones. +"Stand still and keep your mouth shut, or I'll drill a hole through you. +You're safe if you do as I tell you, Crust. I'm onto your little game. +I'm not saying you are the guilty man, but you know who he is,--and it +won't work." + +Manuel Crust was as rigid as a block of stone. He did not even turn his +head to look into the face of the man who held him. + +Michael Malone and Landover were at Percival's side in an instant. From +their position on the steps they could see what was not visible to +the crowd beyond,--the revolver that was pressed against the small of +Crust's back. + +"Cover this man," whispered Percival to Malone. "Shoot if he opens his +mouth." + +Malone's revolver was jammed against the "Portugee's" back, and Percival +sprang back up the steps. + +Manuel Crust shot a look of surprise at Abel Landover. + +"What the hell--" he began, but choked off the words at a command from +Malone. While Percival was rapidly calling out orders from above, he +broke out recklessly again, addressing the stern-faced banker. + +"Are you my friend or not?" he snarled. "What kind of a man are you? +Speak up! Tell them I'm all right." + +"Keep quiet," warned Malone. + +Landover's eyes met the searching, questioning gaze of the Portuguese. +Manuel Crust apparently was satisfied with what he read in them, for a +quick gleam of confidence leaped into his own. His chest swelled with a +tremendous intake of breath. + +The remarkable personality,--or perhaps the magnetism,--of the "boss," +again asserted itself. He made no allusion to the thing uppermost in his +mind as he spoke hurriedly, emphatically to the tense throng. When he +directed Randolph Fitts to take a few picked men with him up into the +woods to bring down the captive, there were mutterings but no move on +the part of the crowd either to anticipate or to follow the detachment. +A few terse words to Buck Chizler sent that active young man after +Fitts, the bearer of instructions. Sancho Mendez was to be brought in +alive. His guards were not to be given a chance to kill him when they +realized that the scheme had failed and he would be allowed to tell his +own story. + +With the departure of Fitts and his men, Percival ordered the people to +return to their cabins. He promised them that Sancho Mendez should have +his just deserts. Slowly, reluctantly the crowd broke up and shuffled +away in small groups across the dewy Green. Manuel Crust was free to +go. The few words that passed between Landover and Percival, although +unheard by the man, sufficed to put courage back into his heart. He had +come to look upon the banker as his "pal"! And his "pal" had not failed +him! + +This is what Landover said to Percival: + +"Whatever may be in your mind, Percival, I want to say this to you. I +was in Manuel Crust's cabin when the thing happened. There were eight +of us there. I can point out to you the other six. I must beg you to +overlook the fact that we are not friends, and believe what I am saying. +It is the absolute truth." + +"I will take your word for it, Mr. Landover," said Percival, after a +moment. "I am aware of your dealings with Crust and his crowd. I don't +know what the game is, but I do know that you have been fostering +discontent,--it may even amount to revolt,--among; these men. If you say +you were with Crust and that he was not out of your sight all evening, +I will believe you. You may be a misguided, domineering fool, Mr. +Landover, but you are honest. You have failed to appreciate what you +were stirring up,--what you were letting yourself and all the rest of us +in for, that's all." + +Landover flushed. He compressed his lips for a second or two before +speaking. + +"My opposition to you as a dictator, Percival, hardly warrants the +implication that I am in a sense responsible for the devilish thing that +happened last night." + +"I grant you that," said Percival. "Nevertheless, it is your purpose to +down me, no matter what it costs,--isn't that true?" + +"No, it is not true. There is an honest, sincere belief on the part of +some of us that you are not the man to rule this camp. You may call it +politics, if you like,--or revolt, if you prefer." + +"We'll call it politics, Mr. Landover. It was not politics that made me +the superintendent of construction here, however. I've looked after the +job to the best of my ability. I am ready to retire whenever the people +decide they've found a better man. You may be right in supposing that +Manuel Crust is the right man for the job,--but I don't agree with you." + +Landover started. "Nothing is farther from my thoughts than to turn the +affairs of this camp over to Crust," he said. + +"Once more I agree with you. But that is what you will be doing, just +the same. If you think that Manuel Crust is going to play second fiddle +to you, Mr. Landover, you'll suddenly wake up to find yourself mistaken. +You know what Crust is advocating, don't you? Well, I guess there's +nothing more to be said on the subject." + +"We will drop it, then," said Landover curtly. "I merely want you to +understand that Crust had no hand in last night's affair. I can vouch +for that." + +"Can you vouch for each and every member of his gang?" + +"I know nothing about his gang, as you call it. If I am not +mistaken, this fellow Mendez is one of your pet supporters. He may be +double-crossing you." + +"We'll see. For the present, your friend Crust is safe. As long as he +lives within the law, he is all right. We're going to have law and order +here, Mr. Landover. I want you to understand that. The best evidence +that most of us want law and order is the incredible manner in which +these people have curbed their natural instincts." + +"No one wants law and order more than I," said Landover. + +"And I suppose Manuel Crust is of the same mind, eh?" + +"So far as I know, he is," replied the other firmly. + +Percival looked at him in blank astonishment. "Well, I'm damned!" he +said, after a moment. "Do you really believe that?" + +"It does not follow that he is an advocate of lawlessness and disorder +because he happens to be opposed to some of your pet schemes, does it, +Mr. Percival?" inquired Landover ironically. + +"One of my pet schemes happens to conflict seriously with Manuel's pet +scheme, if that will strengthen your argument any, Mr. Landover." + +"I don't believe Crust ever had any such thought," said the other +flatly. + +"We're not getting anywhere by arguing the point," said Percival. He +turned to walk away. + +"Just a moment," called out Landover, after the younger man had taken a +few steps. "See here, Percival, I don't want you to misunderstand me. If +there is anything in this talk about Crust,--you know what I mean,--and +if it should come to the point where stern measures are required, I will +be with you, heart and soul. You know that, don't you?" + +Percival studied the banker's face for a moment. "I've never doubted it +for an instant, Landover. We may yet shake hands and be friends in spite +of ourselves." + +Landover turned on his heel and walked away, and Percival, with a shrug +of his shoulders, set about making preparations to safe-guard Sancho +Mendez when he was brought in from the wood. He posted a number of +reliable, cool-headed men around the "meetinghouse," many of them being +armed. Arrangements were made for barricading the door and the few +windows. The prisoner was to be confined in the building, a long, low +structure, and there he was to tell his story and stand trial. There was +to be no delay in the matter of a trial. + +"You will sit as judge, Mike," said the "boss," addressing Malone. +"There will not be any legal technicalities, old man, and there won't be +any appeal,--so all you've got to do is to act like a judge and not like +a lawyer. We've got to do this thing in the regular way. Try to forget +that you have practiced in the New York City courts. Remember that there +is such a thing as justice and pay absolutely no attention to what you +are in the habit of calling the law. The law is a beautiful thing if you +don't take it too seriously. Ninety-nine out of every hundred judges in +the courts of the U. S. A. sit through a trial worrying their heads +off trying to remember the law so that they can keep out of the record +things that might make them look like jackasses when the case is carried +up to a higher court,--and while they are thinking so hard about the law +they forget all about the poor little trifle called justice. I guess you +know that as well as I do, so there's no use talking about it." + +"I guess I do," said Michael Malone. "I live on technicalities when I'm +in New York. If it were not for technicalities, I'd starve to death. +And, my God, man, if we had to stop and think about justice every time +we go into court, we'd be a disgrace to the profession." + +Percival, Peter Snipe, Flattner and several others strode out from the +meeting-house and swept the long line of huts with serious, apprehensive +eyes. They had expected to find the people congregated at some nearby +point, ready to swoop down upon the prisoner the instant he appeared +with his captors at the edge of the wood. To their amazement and relief, +the people had taken Percival's command literally. They had retired +to their huts, and but few of them were to be seen, even on their +doorsteps. + +"Can you beat it?" cried Snipe. "By golly, boys, they've put it squarely +up to us. It's the greatest exhibition of restraint and confidence I've +ever known. This couldn't have happened at home. Hello!" + +The gaze of all was centred upon two persons who walked rapidly in the +direction taken by Fitts and his party. No one spoke for a few seconds. +Flattner, after a quick look at Percival's set, scowling face, was the +first to speak. To a certain degree, he understood the situation. It was +out of pure consideration for his friend's feelings that he said: + +"I'll go and head 'em off, A. A." + +"Thanks, old chap,--but there's no sense in getting yourself disliked. +I'll do it. I'm in bad already,--and besides I'm the one who gave the +order." + +Near the end of the row of huts, he drew alongside of Ruth Clinton and +Landover. + +"The order was meant for every one, Miss Clinton," he said levelly. "Am +I to understand that you have decided to ignore it?" + +She stopped short and drew herself up haughtily. Their eyes met. There +was defiance in hers. She did not speak. Landover confronted Percival, +white with fury. + +"I am capable of looking after Miss Clinton," he exclaimed. "Your +beastly officiousness--" + +"You will go back to your cabin at once, Miss Clinton," said Percival, +ignoring Landover. + +She did not move. + +"Miss Clinton came out here at my suggestion," said Landover. "If you +have any more bullying to do, confine yourself to me, Percival." + +"I am not doing this because I enjoy it, Miss Clinton," went on the +young man, still looking into her unwavering eyes. "I am sorry it is +necessary to remind you that there are no privileged classes here. You +will have to obey orders the same as every one else." + +"Very well," she said, suddenly lowering her eyes. "Take me back to the +cabin, Mr. Landover. There is nothing more to say." + +Percival stood aside. They walked past him without so much as a glance +at his set, unsmiling face. Landover slipped an arm through hers. She +did not resist when he drew her up close to his side. Percival saw him +lean over and speak to her after they had gone a few paces. His lips +were close to her ear, but though his voice was low and repressed, the +words were distinctly audible to the young man. + +"Ruth darling, I am sorry,--I can't tell you how sorry I am for having +subjected you to this insult. God, if I could only help matters by +resenting it, I--" + +She broke in, her voice as clear as a bell. + +"Oh, if I were only a man,--if I were only a man!" + +They were well out of hearing before Percival looked despairingly up at +the pink and grey sky and muttered with heartfelt earnestness: + +"I wish to God you were. I'd like nothing better than to be soundly +threshed by you." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Just before sunset that evening, Sancho Mendez was publicly hanged. +Confessing the crime, he was carried to the rude gibbet at the far edge +of the wheat field and paid the price in full. He had been tried by a +jury of twelve; and there was absolutely no question as to his guilt. +His companion, a lad named Dominic, callously betrayed by the older man, +fled to the forest and it was not until the second day after the +hanging that he was found by a party of man-hunters, half-starved and +half-demented. He was hanged at sunrise on the following day. + +Manuel Crust considered himself glorified. After a fashion, he posed +as a martyr. Some sort of cunning, as insidious as it was unexpected, +caused him to assume an air of humility. He went about shaking his head +sorrowfully, as if cut to the quick by the unjust suspicions that had +been heaped upon him by the ignorant, easily-persuaded populace. + +Sentiment began to swing toward him. He and his so-called followers were +vindicated. It was his gloomy, dejected contention that if Providence +had not intervened he and his honest fellows undoubtedly would have been +placed in the most direful position, so strong and so bitter was +the prejudice that conspired against him. He was constantly thanking +Providence. And presently other people undertook to thank Providence +too. They began to regard Manuel as a much-abused man. + +The burly "Portugee" haunted the cabin of Pedro the farmer. He was the +most solicitous and the most active of all who strove to befriend and +encourage the unhappy father, and no one was more devoted than he to the +slowly-recovering girl. He carried flowers to Pedro's hut; he did many +chores for Pedro's wife; he went out into the woods and killed the +plumpest birds he could find and cooked them himself for Pedro's +daughter. + +Presently he began to assert a more or less proprietary interest in the +family. It was no uncommon thing for him to issue orders to the nurses; +he hectored the Doctor; and on several occasions he went so far as to +offend such well-meaning ladies as Mrs. Spofford, Madame Careni-Amori, +Mrs. Block and others when they appeared at Pedro's cabin with +delicacies for the girl. And finally the people in that end of the camp +began to speak of Manuel Crust as a good fellow and a gentleman! + +On Easter Sunday he stood guard over Pedro's cabin while that worthy and +his family went to the "Tabernacle" to attend the special services. Two +of the nurses were inside with the girl, but outside sat Manuel, a grim +watch-dog that growled when any one approached. + +The horror of that black night and the days that witnessed the wiping +out of Sancho Mendez and Dominic hung like a pall over the camp. Both +executions had been witnessed by practically all of the inhabitants. +Captain Trigger came ashore. + +With set, relentless faces the people watched two men go to their doom. +The women were as stony-faced, as repressed, as the men. Save for the +involuntary groans, and the queer hissing sound of long-pent breath as +the black-capped figures swung off into space, the tremulous hush of +intense restraint rested upon the staring crowd. + +Twice they came out to see men they had known and respected "hanged by +the neck until dead," and on neither occasion was there the slightest +manifestation of pity, nor was there a single word of gloating. They +watched and then they went away, leaving the victims to be disposed +of by the men selected for the purpose. No shouts, no execrations, no +hysterical cries or sobs,--nothing save the grim silence of awe. For +these people, even to the tiniest child, had ceased to live in the light +of other days. + +Peter Snipe, in his journal, wrote of that silent, subdued throng as +other historians have written of the rock-hearted people of Salem, and +of the soulful Puritans who grew heartless in the service of the Lord. + +They stood afar-off and watched the small detachment of sailors carry +the bodies down to the basin, and every one knew that Sancho Mendez and +Dominic, heavily weighted, were rowed out to the middle and dumped into +a bottomless grave. Some there were who declared that their bodies would +sink for ages before reaching the bottom,--and no one thought of Sancho +Mendez and Dominic without picturing them as gliding deeper and deeper +into the endless abyss of water. + +Michael Malone's speech to the multitude on the shorn edge of the wheat +field was brief. He spoke from the scaffold on which Sancho Mendez, the +blacksmith, sat with a noose around his neck. + +"This man has been fairly tried and he is being fairly punished. There +is no way to circumvent the laws of God or the laws of man on this +island, my friends. The guilty cannot escape. If we transgress the law, +we must pay in proportion to our transgression. This man is to die. +The laws of our homeland would not have demanded the life of such as +he,--but they should, my friends, they should. This island is small. +It will be easy for us to keep it clean,--and we must keep it clean. +We must not live in fear of each other. The lion and the lamb lie down +together here; the thief and the honest man walk hand in hand. Our sins +will find us out. We cannot hide them. Remember that. In this little +land of ours there is nothing to stand in the way of the soundest +principle ever laid down for man. 'Do unto others as ye would have +others do unto you.' That is the Golden Rule. All we have to do is to +observe that rule and there will be no use for the Ten Commandments, +nor the laws of Moses, nor all the laws that man has made. We don't even +have to be Christians. 'Do unto others as ye would have others do +unto you.' That, my friends, is the law of laws. It is the religion of +religions." + +"Soapy" Shay, sitting before the fire in his cabin a few nights after +the executions, held forth at some length and with peculiar emphasis on +what he called an exploded theory. + +"As I said before, and as I've always said,--not being a drinking man +myself,--it's all bunk about booze being responsible for all the crimes +that are committed. Now here were these two guys, Sancho and Dominic. +Look at what they did,--and they hadn't touched a drop for months. I'm +not saying that licker is a soothin' syrup for a man's morals, but what +I am saying is that if a feller has got it in him to be ornery, he'll be +ornery, drunk or sober. I was tellin' Parson Mackenzie only this morning +that him and me both have good reason for not touchin' the stuff,--for +different reasons, of course,--but I didn't see why other people +oughtn't to have it if they want it. + +"With me, in my former profession, it would have been criminal to touch +the stuff. The worst crime a burglar can commit is to get drunk. No +decent, bang-up burglar ever does it. I don't suppose there is a more +self-respectin' sort of man in the world than a high-grade burglar. And +it's the same with a preacher. He can't any more preach a good sermon +when he is lit up than a burglar can crack a safe or jimmy a window if +he tanks up beforehand. The parson seemed surprised when I put it right +up to him like that. He said he'd never thought of it in that light +before. Of course, says he, a minister of the gospel ain't even supposed +to know what licker tastes like, and I says to him that's where we have +the advantage of him. We know what it tastes like, and we like it, +and we leave it alone because it cramps our style. He leaves it alone +because it's the style for preachers to leave it alone, and because +they'd go to hell if they drank like ordinary men. The only place a +burglar goes to if he boozes is jail. + +"Well, as I was sayin', this here Sancho wasn't soused when he committed +that crime, and it all goes to prove that these temperance cranks are +off their base. Most of the crime that's committed in this world is +committed because the feller wants to commit it. When I was up in Sing +Sing once,--sort of by accident, you might say,--there was a lot of talk +about prison reform, and pattin' the crooks on the back, and tellin' +them they could be just as good as anybody else if they had a chance. +The only chance them guys want, and keep lookin' for night and day, is +a chance to lift something when nobody's lookin'. That's all they're +thinkin' about while they're in the pen, and God knows they're as sober +as judges all the time they're there. Crime is crime and you can't +always lay it to booze. It's human nature with some people. I'm not +sayin' the world wouldn't be better off if there wasn't any licker to +drink. It stands to reason that there wouldn't be half so much bunglin' +if people kept sober, 'specially when it comes to crime. Now, if this +guy Sancho had had a couple of pints in him, everybody would be going +around preachin' about the horrible effects of booze, and--What say?" + +"I said you make me tired," said Buck Chizler, repeating his remark. "I +never did anything wrong in my life except when I was half-soused." + +"Sure," agreed Soapy. "But you'd have done it right if you'd been sober, +my boy. That's the principal trouble with booze. It never gives a feeler +a chance to do anything right." Whereupon, with a slow wink for the +other members of the group, he arose and passed out into the night. + +"I can't make that feller out," grumbled Buck, uncomfortably. + +Easter Sunday was bright and clear, following a fortnight of cold, +penetrating winds and rain. The sun smiled, but it was a cold smile that +mocked rather than cheered. The sky was the colour of thin, transparent +ice; the vast white dome was unspotted by a single cloud; the rose tints +of early morn, frightened away at birth by the chill, unfeeling glare, +took with them every promise of tenderness that dawned with the new day. +But, though the sky was hard, the air was soft; the tang of the salt-sea +spice lay over everything. + +Percival had no active part in the exercises arranged by Ruth. The song +service was held in the open. A platform had been erected in front +of the "tabernacle" (the meeting-house on occasion) for the choir and +musicians. There were no seats for the congregation. Every one stood, +bareheaded, in a wide semi-circle facing the platform. The "boss" took +his place inconspicuously among those who formed the outer fringe of the +assemblage. His gaze seldom left the face of the girl he loved. Once her +eyes met his. She was on the platform discussing arrangements with the +two clergymen when her roving, unsettled gaze chanced to fall upon him. +For many seconds she stared at him fixedly,--so fixedly, in fact, that +Father Francisco, after a moment, shot a look in the same direction. +Even from his far-off post, Percival saw the colour mount to her cheeks +as she hastily turned away to resume the conversation that had been so +incontinently broken off. She was bare-headed. He had been watching the +sun at play among the coils of her soft, dark hair,--a glint here as of +bronze, a gleam there as of gold, ever changing under the caresses of +that flaming lover a hundred million miles away. + +The affable Mr. Nicklestick was standing beside Percival, carrying on a +more or less one-sided conversation. + +"You see, it's this way," he was saying, contriving to reduce his +far-reaching voice to a moderate undertone; "I'm not in the habit of +attending Easter services. I'm not opposed to them, believe me, A. +A.,--not in the slightest. Now at home in New York, I make it a habit to +walk from the Metropolitan Museum down to the Waldorf-Astoria regularly +every Easter. Between eleven and twelve-thirty. You get them going into +certain churches and you get them coming out of others, don't you see? +Oh, vat would I give to be on Fif' Avenue at this minute, A. A.! +A hundred thousand dollars,--gladly, villingly,--yes, two hundred +thousand! I vonder vat things are like on Fif Avenue now,--at this +minute, I mean. I vonder what the vimmin are wearing this season. My +God, don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue, A. A.?" + +"What?" + +"I say don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue now?" + +"No, I don't," gruffly. + +"You--you don't?" gasped Nicklestick. "My God, where do you wish you +were?" + +"Over in France,--or better still, in Germany,--that's where I'd like to +be. Keep still! Can't you see Careni-Amori is singing?" + +Nicklestick was silent for two minutes. Then he volunteered: "Do you +know what that song vould cost if she vas to give it in the Metropolitan +Opera House, A. A.? A thousand dollars, von thousand simoleons. And +we get it for nothing. It ain't possible to realize that you can get +something for nothing in these days, is it? I vas saying to Morrie Shine +only this morning that--" + +"Sh!" hissed an exasperated Brazilian in front of them. + +"I guess we better not talk any more, A. A.," said Nicklestick, +deprecatingly. Presently he leaned close to Percival's ear and +whispered: "Miss Clinton is looking very fine today, isn't she?" +Receiving no reply, he waited a moment and then went on: "Landover is +a very lucky dog, eh?" Failing again, he was silent for some time. His +next effort was along a totally different line. "I've been feeling some +of the people out in regard to the election next week. I think it's +a great idea. You got a cinch, A. A. Nobody vants anybody but you for +governor. What seems to be--" + +"Sh!" + +"Oh, you go to the devil!" addressed the exasperated Mr. Nicklestick +to the Brazilian. "Ain't we got freedom of speech here on this island? +Veil, then! What seems to be troubling most every one, A. A., is who is +the best man for clerk. Nobody vants to be treasurer, for why? Because +there ain't anything to be treasurer about. Say, where are you going?" + +"Nowhere," replied Percival, as he strode away. + +Over against the line of trees on the opposite side of the wheat field +still loomed the gibbet from which Sancho Mendez and Dominic had stepped +blindfolded into another and darker world. While Pastor Mackenzie, +leading up to the glorious resurrection, was repeating the story of the +Crucifixion, Ruth Clinton, sitting behind him on the platform, stared +wide-eyed at this gaunt object, and she saw not Christ on the Cross but +the spectre of Sancho Mendez falling off into darkness. Percival's gaze +followed hers, and his heart smote him,--for it was he who had demanded +that the gruesome reminder be left standing as a warning to carrion. And +he had laughed when Peter Snipe christened it "the scarecrow!" + +"Leave it standing, A. A.," Peter had said, "and you can bet your boots +no jailbird will ever roost on it if he thinks twice. And it's just that +sort of thing that makes a man think twice." + +But the look of dread in the eyes of this girl who could do no wrong, +and yet was to be everlastingly tortured by the sight of the thing that +stood as a silent accuser of all who looked, was more than Percival +could stand. Easter Sunday,--and that gibbet pointing its long arm +toward the little flock in the shadow of sanctuary,--mocking the good as +it beckoned to the bad,--Easter Sunday and that! + +He stole quietly away, circling the edge of the crowd, his head bent, +his teeth set. Just as he was about to pass from view around the corner +of the "tabernacle," he cast a quick glance at the girl on the platform. +Their eyes met again. She turned her head quickly, but he was certain +that she had followed his movements from the beginning. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Toward the close of the exercises, the congregation was startled by +the sound of an ax smiting wood. The blows were rapid and vigorous. +The surprised people looked at each other first in wonder and then in +consternation. Who was guilty of this unseemly sacrilege? + +Finally those on the edge of the multitude discovered the wielder of the +ax. Some one, not easily recognizable, was chopping away the supports of +the scaffold. The crowd grew restless; angry mutterings were to be heard +on all sides. Every eye was turned from the platform to glare at the +lone chopper across the fallow field. + +Madame Careni-Amori, who was about to begin her second song, looked +helplessly at Ruth Clinton. + +Ruth had recognized the man at once. At first she was annoyed, then +there surged over her a great, uplifting thrill of exaltation. She +stepped quickly to the front and, raising her clear young voice, +reclaimed the wandering attention of the throng. + +"Please be quiet. Madame Careni-Amori is to sing for us once more. Mr. +Percival is knocking down that horrible thing over there. It is right +that he should. We do not need it there as a warning. Mr. Percival has +had a change of heart. He has been moved,--tremendously moved,--by +what he has seen in your faces today. That is why he is over there now +hacking down that dreadful thing. It is the skeleton at our feast. We +were conscious of its presence all the time. He is over there all by +himself cutting it down so that our hearts may be lighter, so that this +glad hour may end without its curse. Please remain where you are. He +requires no assistance. He prefers to do it all alone. And now, if you +will all give attention, Madame Careni-Amori will sing for us." + +Careni-Amori lifted up her glorious voice in song. The rhythmic beat +of the ax went on unceasingly; the powerful arms and shoulders of the +destroyer were behind every frenzied blow. As the last notes of the song +died away, there came the sound of splintering wood, then a dull crash, +and the gibbet lay flat upon the ground. Some one uttered an involuntary +shout. As Percival turned from his completed work and wiped the sweat +from his brow with his bare forearm, he found the gaze of the entire +company fastened upon him. Then there came to his ears the clapping of +hands, then the shrill clamour of voices raised in approbation. Swinging +the ax on high, he buried its blade deep in the fallen timber and left +it imbedded there. Snatching up his coat from a nearby stump, he waved +his hand to the crowd and then, whirling, was quickly lost among the +trees that lined the shore. + +Landover walked beside the thoughtful Ruth as she crossed the Green on +her way home. He studied her lovely profile out of the corner of his +eye. As they drew away from the dispersing throng, he spoke to her. + +"If money were of any value here in this Godforsaken spot, I would offer +considerably more than a penny for your thoughts, Ruth." + +She started slightly. "You couldn't buy them, Mr. Landover. They are not +for sale at any price." + +"I suppose there is no harm in venturing a guess, however. You will give +me one guess, won't you?" + +"All the guesses you like,--free of charge," she rejoined airily. + +"You are trying to decide whether or not it was all done for effect." + +She smiled mysteriously, looking straight ahead. Her eyes were very +bright. + +"You are wrong. I was thinking about hats, Mr. Landover. Don't you know +that every woman's thoughts run to hats on Easter?" + +"I confess I had a better opinion of him," he said, disregarding her +flippancy. "I don't like him, but I've never suspected him of being a +stupid ass before." + +"Of whom are you speaking?" she inquired, suddenly looking him full in +the eye. + +"Our mutual friend, the enemy," he replied. + +"Mr. Percival?" + +"Certainly." + +"But I thought he was beneath our notice." + +"We can't very well help noticing him when he goes to such extreme +lengths to attract attention." + +"You think he did it to attract attention?" + +"Not so much that, perhaps, as to get back into the lime-light. You +see, he was rather out of it for as much as half an hour, and he simply +couldn't stand it. So he went off and staged a little sideshow of his +own." + +She walked on in silence for a few moments, torn by doubts and +misgivings. Landover's sarcastic analysis was like a douche of cold +water. Perhaps he was right. It had been a spectacular, not to say +diverting, exhibition. Her eyes darkened. An expression of pain lurked +in them. + +"I can't believe it of him, Mr. Landover," she said at last, in a +slightly muffled voice. + +"I thought it was understood you were to call me Abel, my dear." + +"If he did it deliberately,--and with that motive,--it was unspeakable," +she went on, a faint furrow appearing between her eyes. + +"Of course, I may be wrong," said he magnanimously. "It may have been +the result of an honest, uncontrollable impulse. But I doubt it." + +"Men do queer, strange things when under the influence of a strong +emotion," she said, a hopeful note in her voice. + +"True. They are also capable of doing very base things. You don't for an +instant suspect Percival of being a religious fanatic, do you?" + +"Please don't sneer. And what, pray, has religion to do with it?" + +"I dare say Morris Shine is again lamenting the absence of a motion +picture camera. He is always complaining about the chances he has missed +to--" + +"Stop!" + +"Why, Ruth dear, I--" + +"We have no right to judge him, Mr. Landover." + +"Are you defending him?" + +"I don't believe he had the faintest notion that he was +being--theatrical, as you call it. I am sure he did it because he was +moved by an overpowering desire to make all of us happy. He couldn't +bear the thought of that evil thing out there, pointing at us while we +worshipped and tried to sing with gladness in our hearts. No! He did +it for you, and for me, and for all the rest of us,--and he made every +heart lighter when that thing toppled over and fell. Did you not see +the change that came over every one when they realized that it was +destroyed? There were smiles on every face, and every voice was +cheerful. The look of uneasy dread was gone--Oh, you must have seen." + +"I can only say that it ought to have been done before, Ruth,--not +during the exercises." + +"It was his way of publicly admitting he was wrong in insisting that it +should remain." + +"He had his way with that weak-kneed committee, as usual. The tactics +of that Copperhead Camp he talks so much about are hardly applicable to +conditions here. We are not law-defying ruffians, you know,--and these +are women of quite another order." + +"No one,--not even you, Mr. Landover,--can say that he has been +anything but kind and considerate and sympathetic," she flashed. "He is +firm,--but isn't that what we want? And the people worship him,--they +will do anything for him. Even Manuel Crust respects him,--and obeys +him. And you, down in your heart, respect him. He is your kind of a man, +Mr. Landover. He does things. He is like Theodore Roosevelt. He does +things." + +Landover smiled grimly. "Perhaps that is why I dislike him." + +"Because he is like Roosevelt?" + +"My dear, let's not start an argument about Roosevelt." + +"Just the same, I've heard you say over and over again that you wish +Roosevelt were President now," she persisted. "Why do you say that if +you are so down on him?" + +Landover shrugged his shoulders expressively. + +"I can wish that, my dear, and still not be an admirer of Mr. +Roosevelt," he replied. "But to return to Percival, isn't it quite plain +to you that he was pouting like a school-boy because he had not been +asked to take part in today's exercises?" + +"He was asked to take part in them. I asked him myself." + +He glanced at her sharply. "You never told me you had asked him, Ruth." + +"The night the crime was committed," she said briefly. "He was very nice +about it. He promised to sing in the choir and--and to help me with +the decorations. After our unpleasant experience the next day, he had +the--shall we say tact or kindness?--to reconsider his promise." + +"Openly advertising the fact that he preferred to have no part in any +entertainment you were arranging," was Landover's comment. "I don't +believe it was because of any particular delicacy of feeling on his +part, my dear. In any case, the fact remains that he let you go ahead +with the affair, and then, bang! right in the middle of it he stages his +cheap, melodramatic, moving-picture act. Bosh!" + +She turned on him with blazing eyes. + +"You will not see anything good in him, will you? You can't be fair, can +you? Well, I can be,--and I am. He has been fair with both of us,--and +I am ashamed of the way I have treated him. We deserved his rebuke that +morning, and he did not hesitate to turn us back,--although he realized +what it would mean. He loves me, Abel Landover,--he loves me a thousand +times more than you do, in spite of all your protestations. He--" + +"Why, Ruth,--I--I--" + +"Yes,--I know,--I know you are shocked. And I don't care,--do you +understand? I don't care that! You want your answer, Mr. Landover. Well, +you shall have it now. I cannot marry you. This is final." + +The blood left his face. "You don't know what you are saying, Ruth," he +exclaimed. "You are angry. When you have had time to--" + +"I've had all the time I need," she interrupted shortly. "I don't want +to be disagreeable,--but it's no use, Mr. Landover. I do not love you. +I am sorry if I have misled you into hoping. There is nothing more to be +said." + +"You have misled me," he cried out bitterly. + +"I am to blame, I suppose, for not giving you your answer before this. I +have temporized. It is a woman's trick,--and a horrid one, I'll admit. I +have never even thought of marrying you." + +"Are you in love with Percival?" he demanded. + +"Yes,--I think I am," she replied, looking him straight in the eye. She +spoke with a sort of gasp, as if releasing a confession that surprised +even herself. + +"My God, Ruth,--I can't believe it," he groaned. + +"I have denied it to myself--oh, a thousand times,--I've fought against +it. I've tried to hate him. I've done everything in my power to make him +believe that I despise him. But it's no use,--it's no use. I--I can't +think of anything else. I can't think of any one else. Oh, I know I am +quite mad to say this, but I sometimes find myself praying that we may +never be rescued. It might mean--well, you can see what it might mean. +Thank God, you have driven me to this confession. It is the first time I +have been really honest with myself. I have lied to myself over and over +again about my feeling toward him. I have lain awake for hours at night +lying to myself--telling myself that I hate him and always will hate +him. Now, it's out,--the truth is out. I have never hated him,--I have +cared for him from the very beginning." + +She spoke rapidly, the words rushing forth like a flood suddenly +released after breaking through the dam, sweeping everything before +it,--resistless, devastating, cruelly rapturous. She thought nothing of +the hurt she was inflicting upon the man beside her; he was an atom in +the path of the torrent, a thing that went down and was left behind as +the flood swept over and by him. As suddenly as it began the torrent was +checked. A hot flush seared her neck, her cheeks, her brow. + +"What a fool you must think me!" she cried in dire chagrin. "What a +stupid fool!" + +He had not taken his eyes from her transfigured face. He had listened +with his jaw set, his lips tightly pressed, his brow dark with anger. + +"I don't think that," he said shortly. "You have merely lost your head, +as any woman might, over a picturesque, good-looking soldier of fortune. +Perhaps I should not be surprised, nor even shocked by what you've just +told me. He is the sort that women do fall in love with,--and I suppose +they are not to be blamed for it. No, I do not think you are a fool. +When one reflects that such experienced heads as those possessed by +the irreproachable Obosky, the immaculate Amori,--to say nothing of the +estimable lady we are pleased to call the 'Empress of Brazil,'--when +such heads as theirs are turned by a man it is high time to admit that +he has something more than personal magnetism. I am wondering how far +the contagion has really spread. There is a difference between +contagion and infection, you know. Infection is the result of +personal contact,--contagion is something in the air. This epidemic +of infatuation very plainly is in two forms. It appears to be both +infectious and contagious. I rather fancy the amiable Obosky has +selected the former type of the prevailing malady. Percivalitis, I +believe, is the name it goes by." + +There was no mistaking the significance of his words. The implication +was clear, even though veiled in the heaviest sarcasm. He had the +satisfaction of seeing the colour ebb from her cheek. Her face being +averted, he missed the swift flicker of pain that rushed to her eyes +and, departing, took away with it the soft light that had glowed in them +the instant before. He had touched a concealed canker,--the sensitive +spot that had been the real cause of her sleepless, troubled +nights,--the thing she had refused in her pride to accept as the real +source of discomfort. + +Down in her soul lay the poison of jealousy, a cruel and malignant +influence that until now had been subdued by a mind stubbornly unwilling +to recognize its existence. + +In the eagerness to supply herself with additional reasons for hating +Percival, she had given her imagination a rather free rein in regard to +his relations with Olga Obosky. While she was without actual proof, she +nevertheless tortured herself with suspicions that came almost to +the same thing; in any case, they had the desired effect in that they +created a very positive sense of irritation, and nothing seemed to +please her more in the dead hour of night than the feeling that she had +a right to be disgusted with him. + +And now, Landover, in his sly arraignment, prodded a very live, raw +spot, and she knew that it was bleak unhappiness and not rancour that +had kept her awake. + +"Is it necessary to beat about the bush, Mr. Land-over? If you have +anything definite to tell me about Mr. Percival and Madame Obosky, +I grant you permission to say all you have to say in the plainest +language. Call a spade a spade. I am quite old enough to hear things +called by their right names." + +"Since you have been so quick to get my meaning, I don't consider it +necessary to go into details. I daresay you have ears and eyes of your +own. You can see and hear as well as I,--unless you are resolved to be +both blind and deaf." + +"Did you not hear me say that I know he loves me?" + +"Yes,--I heard you quite distinctly." + +"As a rule, do men love two women at the same time?" she inquired, +patiently. + +"I have never said that he loves Obosky. It is barely possible, however, +that he may not choose to resist her,--if that conveys anything to your +intelligence." + +"It does and it does not," she replied steadily. "You see, I believe in +him. I trust him." + +"And I suppose you trust Olga Obosky," he said, with a sneer. + +"I understand Olga Obosky far better than you do, Mr. Landover." + +"I doubt it," said he drily. + +"She is my friend." + +"Ah! That measurably simplifies the situation. She will no doubt prove +her friendship by delivering Mr. Percival to you, slightly damaged but +guaranteed to--" + +"Please be good enough to remember, Mr. Land-over, that you are not +speaking to Manuel Crust," she exclaimed haughtily, and, with flaming +cheeks, swept past him. + +He hesitated a moment, and then started to follow her. She stopped short +and, facing him, cried out: "Don't follow me! I do not want to hear +another word. Stop! I can see by your eyes that you are ashamed,--you +want to apologize. I do not want to hear it. I am hurt,--terribly hurt. +Nothing you can say will help matters now, Mr. Landover." + +"Just a second, Ruth," he cried, now thoroughly dismayed. "Give me a +chance to explain. It was my mad, unreasoning love that--" + +But, with an exclamation of sheer disgust, she put her fingers to her +ears and sped rapidly down the walk. He stood still, watching her until +she entered the cabin door and closed it behind her. Then he completed +the broken sentence, but not in the voice of humility nor with the words +that he had intended to utter. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +Shay, coming up the walk, distinctly heard what he said. + +"What's the matter, Bill?" he inquired, pausing. "Did she throw the +hooks into you?" + +Landover glared at him balefully. "You go to hell, damn you," he +snarled, and walked away. + +"Soapy" rubbed his chin dubiously as he watched the retreating figure. +Pursing his thin lips, he turned his attention to an unoffending stump +six or eight feet away and scowled at it vindictively. He was turning +something over in his mind, and he was manifestly in a state of +indecision. Ruminating, he spoke aloud, perhaps for the benefit of a +Portuguese farm-hand who happened to be approaching from the opposite +direction, but who still had some rods to cover before he was within +hearing distance. + +"Gee, he's getting to be as decent and democratic as any of us. Shows +what association will do for a man. Two months ago he would have been +too high and mighty to tell me to go to hell. If he keeps on at this +rate, he'll be worth payin' attention to in a couple of months more. +Won't he, Bill?" This to the farmhand, who obligingly halted. + +Mr. Shay made constant and impartial use of the name Bill. Except in a +very few instances, he applied it to all males over the age of two, +and he did it so genially that resentment was rare. Americans, Britons, +Irishmen, Portuguese, Spaniards, Indians, Swedes,--all races, in fact, +except the Hebrew,--came under the sweeping appellation. His Hebrew +acquaintances were addressed by the name of Ike. + +It so happened that this particular "Bill" was lamentably slow in +picking up the English language. It was even said that he prided himself +on being halfwitted. However, being an exceedingly dull creature, he was +quite naturally a polite one. He was a good listener. You could speak +English to him by the hour and never be annoyed by verbal interruptions. +At regular intervals he would insert a shrug of the shoulders, or nod +his head, or lift an eye-brow, or spread out his hands, or purse his +lips,--and he never smiled unless you did. + +Perceiving that some sort of an answer was expected, "Bill" +wisely shrugged his shoulders. "Soapy" interpreted the shrug as +affirmative,--having a distinct advantage over "Bill," who hadn't the +faintest idea which it was,--and proceeded to go a little deeper into +the matter. + +"Now, as I was saying, this Landover guy is up against something, Bill. +She handed him something he didn't like. Right on the nose, too, if I'm +any judge. What do you suppose it was, Bill?" + +"Bill" nodded his head very earnestly. + +"That's what I think," said "Soapy," fixing his hearer with a moody, +speculative frown. "Now, I know something about this Landover guy that +she don't know. I suppose A. A. will give me an awful panning if I up +and tell her what I saw that day. He seems to think it's a secret." + +There was a slight pause, suggesting to "Bill" that he ought to frown as +if also in doubt. + +"At the same time, I think she ought to be told, don't you, Bill?" + +This called for something definite. So Bill scratched his left ear. + +"In the first place, she's too nice a girl to be hitched up with a +Priscilla like him. Now, I don't know what happened here a couple of +minutes ago, but it looks to me as if she needs a little moral support. +It strikes me that this would be a good time to tell her. What do you +think about it, Bill?" + +Always on the lookout for rising inflections, "Bill" was ever in a +position to give prompt replies. He could dispose of the most profound +questions almost before they were out of the speaker's mouth. His answer +to "Soapy's" query was a broad grin,--for he had detected a sly twinkle +in the speaker's eye. He also shrugged his shoulders and spread out his +hands,--and, to clinch the matter, he winked. + +"Now, I don't want to take this important step without being backed-up +by some clever, intelligent feller like you, Bill," went on "Soapy." +"It's all for her good,--and A. A.'s, too, although he won't see it in +that light. If you say you think she ought to be told, that's enough for +me. If you say she oughtn't,--why, nothing doing. It's up to you, Bill." + +"Bill" was plainly at sea. You can't decide a question that lacks an +interrogation point. So all that "Bill" could do was to stare blankly +at "Soapy" and wait for something tangible to turn up. Mr. Shay suddenly +appreciated the poor fellow's dilemma and supplied the necessary relief. + +"What say, Bill?" + +Whereupon "Bill" started to shake his head, but, catching the scowl of +disapproval on "Soapy's" brow, hastily changed his reply to a vigorous +nod. + +"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Shay. "That completely clears my conscience. So +long, Bill." + +And half a minute later he presented himself at Ruth Clinton's cabin. + +"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Spofford, as she opened the door. She also +opened her eyes very wide, and sent a startled, apprehensive glance over +her shoulder into the warm, fire-lit interior. "What do you want?" she +demanded querulously of the unexpected visitor. + +Mr. Shay took off his hat. "I'd like a few words with Miss Clinton," he +said. "I saw her come in, so she's not out. It's important, ma'am. She +will hear something to her advantage, as they say in the personals." + +"Will you please return at three o'clock, Mr. Shay? My niece is resting +after the arduous labours of the--" + +"I dassent wait," said "Soapy," with a furtive glance over his shoulder. +"If he sees me, I'll probably have to change my mind." + +"Who is it, Auntie?" called out a clear voice from within. + +"'Soapy' Shay," replied the visitor himself. + +"Mr. Landover will be here presently, Mr. Shay,--" began the obstacle in +the doorway. + +"I guess not," broke in "Soapy," forgetting himself so far as to wink. +"I expect you haven't heard the news, ma'am. He's had his nose put out +of joint." + +"Good heavens! His nose out of--" + +"Come in, Soapy," cried Ruth. + +"Ruth, my dear,--do you know who--do you know what--" + +"Sure she knows," again interrupted "Soapy," unembarrassed. "I'm not +after anybody's jewels, Mrs. Spofford,--and besides which I am the +principal candidate for Sheriff of this bailiwick. You don't suppose +a man who's running for the office of sheriff on Mr. A. A. Percival's +ticket is going to lift anything before election, do you? Besides which +I've made up my mind to be straight as long as I'm on this island, and +if I'm elected,--which I will be,--I'm going to see that nobody else +does anything crooked. Mr. A.A. Percival is a wise guy,--a mighty wise +guy. Says he to me, 'Soapy, you are one of the most expert--'" + +"Come inside, Soapy," called out Ruth. + +Mr. Shay entered. "You better shut the door, Mrs. Spofford," he said +coolly. "What I got to say is private. As I was saying, A. A. says to +me, 'Soapy, you are one of the craftiest and slipperiest crooks on this +side of the Atlantic Ocean. What you don't know about crime would fill +a book about as thick as a postage stamp. There's nobody on this island +more fittin' to be an officer of the law. You know everything that an +officer of the law ought to know, and besides which you know everything +that a thief has to know. So you're going to be elected Sheriff of +Trigger Island.' That's what A. A. says to me, and, as usual, he's dead +right. Why, ma'am, there ain't a thief in the universe that can fool me. +I don't have to have any evidence,--not a grain of it. All I got to do +is to just ask 'em why they done it. But what I dropped in to see you +about, Miss Ruth, is--Say, you ain't by any chance expecting A. A. to +drop in, are you? I wouldn't have him ketch me here for--" + +"I am not expecting Mr. Percival, Soapy," she said, her gaze fixed +expectantly on the man's face. + +"Well, then," said he, "I got a little story to tell you. It's the +gospel truth. Just try to forget that I used to be a crook and that +in ordinary times I am one of the most gosh-awful liars on earth. But +there's absolutely no pleasure in lying nowadays, and as for working at +my regular trade, Mrs. Spofford, you needn't be the least bit nervous. +It ain't necessary for you to set on that trunk. Take this chair, +please. Now, you remember some time back that A. A. and your friend +Landover had a mix-up in the last named gentleman's stateroom, and you +also must remember that Mr. Landover told you about it and that Mr. +Percival never told you anything about it. Well, I was a witness to +that fracas. I just happened to be walking along the deck when something +caught my eye and I went up close to see what it was. You'd never guess +what it was. After looking at it very carefully I discovered it was a +port-hole." + +Forsaking his whimsical manner, he related tersely in as few words as +possible the story of the encounter. + +"Now, it's my guess that Mr. Abel Landover didn't speak the whole truth +and nothing but the truth when he furnished you with his version of the +affair. Am I right, or am I wrong?" he asked, in conclusion. + +"I prefer to believe Mr. Landover's story," said Mrs. Spofford stiffly. +"Will you be good enough to go now, Mr. Shay?" + +"Sure," said "Soapy," rising. "I'm not asking anybody to take my word +against his. I'm just telling you, that's all. Good afternoon, ladies." + +"It was not Mr. Percival who fired the shot? You are sure of that, +Soapy?" Ruth was standing now. Her eyes were very dark and tempestuous. + +"Sure as my right name ain't Soapy Shay," returned the witness, holding +up his right hand. + +"Ruth, it isn't possible that you place any credence in--" + +"Thank you for coming, Soapy," interrupted Ruth. "It was very good of +you." + +"Soapy" lingered at the door, fumbling his dilapidated hat. Mrs. +Spofford was staring speechlessly at her niece. + +"I'd a little sooner you wouldn't say anything to A. A. about me +peaching on him," said "Soapy," somewhat nervously. + +"I shall not 'peach' on you, Soapy," said the girl, a joyous smile +suddenly illuminating her face. + +"Soapy" went out. As he closed the door, he said to himself: "Next time +you tell me to go to hell, Abe Landover, I guess you'd better furnish a +guide that knows the way." + +As soon as the door was closed, Mrs. Spofford turned upon her radiant +niece. + +"You are not such a fool as to believe that rascal's story, Ruth?" + +"I believe every word of it!" cried the girl. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Sailors, sniffing the gale that night, shook their heads and said +there was snow on the tail of it. Morning found the ground mottled with +splashes of white and a fine, frost-like sleet blowing fitfully across +the plain. The ridge of trees over against the shore became vague and +shapeless beneath the filmy veil, while the sea out beyond the breakers +was clothed in a grey shroud, bleak and impenetrable. + +Knapendyke was positive and reassuring in his contention that no great +amount of snow ever fell upon the island. While much of the vegetation +was of a character indigenous to the temperate zone, there was, he +pointed out, another type peculiar to tropical climates,--and although +the latter was of a singularly hardy nature, it was not calculated to +survive the rigours of a harsh, protracted winter. + +"We'll have spells like this, off and on, just as they occasionally do +in Florida or Southern California, is the way I figure it out," he said +to the group of uneasy men who contemplated the embryonic blizzard with +alarm and misgiving. "Moreover, I believe the wet, cold season is a +short one here. The birds are content to stick it out. The fact there is +no migration is proof enough for me that the winter is never severe. +As the weather prognosticators say, look out for squalls, unsettled +weather, frost tonight, rising temperature tomorrow, rain the next +day, doctors' bills the end of the month. Avoid crowded street-cars, +passenger elevators and places of amusement. Take plenty of out-door +exercise and don't eat too many strawberries." + +Children, on their way to school in the town hall, shouted with glee +as they romped in the snow-laden gale. It had no terrors for them. They +were not concerned with the dour prospect that brought anxiety to the +hearts of their elders. + +"It's fine to be a kid," said Percival, watching the antics of a crowd +of boys. "Why do we have to grow up?" + +"So that we can appreciate what it was to be a kid," said Randolph +Fitts. + +Ruth Clinton was one of the teachers. There were, all told, about thirty +children in the school, their ages ranging from five to fourteen. Most +of them were youngsters from the steerage, bright-eyed little Latins who +had picked up with lively avidity no small store of English. They were +being taught in English. + +The council, spurred by the far-seeing Percival, recognized the perils +of a period of inactivity following the harvest and the flailing +days. The majority of the men and women would be comparatively idle. +Preparations for the building of a small ship occupied the time and +interest of a few engineers and ship-carpenters, but as some weeks were +bound to pass before the work could be begun in earnest, an interim of +impatience would have to be bridged. Work, and plenty of it, was the +only prescription for despair. + +Already symptoms of increasing moodiness marked the mien of the less +resourceful among the castaways. While it was not generally known, two +men had attempted suicide, and one of the Brazilian ladies,--a beautiful +young married woman,--was in a pitiful state of collapse. She had +a husband and two small children in Rio Janeiro. The separation was +driving her mad. There were others,--both men and women,--whose minds +were never free from the thought of loved ones far across the waters +and whose hearts ached with a great pain that could not be subdued by +philosophy, but they were strong and they were cheerful. In their souls +burnt an unquenchable fire, the fire of hope; they stirred it night and +day with the song of the unvanquished. + +Improvements in the hastily constructed cabins provided not only +occupation but interest for the able-bodied men and women. There was no +little rivalry in the matter of interior embellishments; those skilled +in the use of implements took great pride in hewing out and adding +more or less elaborate ornamentation to the facades of their +habitations,--such as casements, door-posts and capitals, awnings, +porches, and so forth. A shell road was in process of construction +from one end of the village to the other, while over in Dismal Forest +woodsmen were even now cutting down the towering Norfolk pines and +hewing out the staunch timbers for the ship that was to sail out one day +in quest of the world they had left behind them. But these enterprises +provided work for men only. The women, in the main, were without +occupation. With the approach of winter the men in active control of the +camp's affairs realized that something would have to be done to relieve +the strain,--at least, to lighten it until spring came to the rescue +with toil in the fields and gardens. + +A system of exchange was being worked out. As has been mentioned before +in this chronicle, the people of the steerage were the plutocrats. Their +hoardings represented real money, the savings of years. When it came to +an actual "show-down,"--to use Percival's expression,--these people +who were poor in the accepted sense, now were rich. They could "buy and +sell" the "plutocrats" of another day and another world. + +The theory that one good turn deserves another was an insufficient +foundation upon which to construct a substantial system of exchange. +It is all very well to talk about brotherly love, said Percival. The +trouble is that certain brothers are for ever imposing upon other +brothers, and the good turn does not always find its recompense. +Socialism, he argued, is a fine thing until you discover that you are +not alone in the world. Brotherly love began with Cain and Abel, and +socialism is best exemplified by a parlour aquarium. Nothing happens to +disturb the serene existence of the goldfish until somebody forgets to +feed them, and then they begin nibbling at each other. + +"You mend my fence, I'll mend yours," is an ideal arrangement until you +find it is "our fence" and doesn't need mending. + +To Landover, Block and other financial experts was delegated the power +and authority to perfect a fair, impartial monetary system. First of +all, they arbitrarily declared the dollar, the peso and the shilling to +be without value. "Time" script was to be issued by the governing board, +and as this substitute would automatically become useless on the day the +castaways, were discovered and taken off the island, no citizen was to +be allowed to reduce or dissipate his hoard of real money. + +Landover's proposal that a central depository be established for the +purpose of holding and safe-guarding the possessions of each and every +person was primarily intended to prevent the surreptitious use of real +money. This project met with almost universal opposition. The "rich" +preferred to hang onto their money, thereby running true to form. While +professing the utmost confidence in the present integrity of the banker +and his friends they ingenuously wanted to know what chance they would +have of getting their money back when these masters of finance were +ready to leave the island! So they elected to hide their gold and silver +where it would be safe from unscrupulous financiers! And nothing could +shake them in this resolve. + +"Time" was the basic principle on which the value of the script was to +be determined, and as "time," in this instance, meant hours and nothing +else, a citizen's income depended entirely on his readiness to work. Ten +hours represented a full day's work. The hand-press on board the Doraine +was used to print the "hours," as the little slips made from the +stock of menu card-board were called. They were divided into five +denominations, viz.: One Hour, Three Hours, Five Hours, Seven Hours and +Ten Hours. Each of these checks bore the signature of Abel T. Landover +and a seal devised by Peter Snipe, who besides being an author was +something of a draughtsman,--indeed, his enemies said he was a far +better artist than he was an author, which annoyed him tremendously in +view of the fact that he had stopped drawing when he was fifteen because +eminent cartoonists and illustrators had told him he had no talent at +all. The printing and stamping was done on board the Doraine and the +script was shortly to be put into circulation. Landover was slated to +become treasurer of Trigger Island at the general election. + +As an illustration, this sort of dialogue was soon to become more or +less common: + +"What's the price of this hat, Madame Obosky?" + +"Twenty-seven hours, Mrs. Block." + +Or: + +"Gimme an hour's worth of 'smoke,' Andy," meaning, of course, the +substitute for tobacco. + +Or: + +"You blamed robber, what do you mean charging six hours for half-soling +them shoes? If you was any good, you could ha' done it in half the +time." + +Every individual in camp over the age of thirteen was obliged to have an +occupation. To a certain extent, this occupation was selective, but in +the main it was to be determined by a board whose business it was to see +that the man-power was directed to the best advantage for all concerned. +A camp tax was ordered. At the end of the week, every citizen was +required to pay into the common treasury two "hours." He could not +"work out" this tax. It had to be paid in "cash." Out of the taxes so +received, the school, the church, the "hospital" and the "government" +were to be supported. + +The "governor" of Trigger Island and the humblest workingman were to +receive exactly the same pay: "hour" for hour. Thirty thousand "hours" +represented the total issue, or, approximately fifty units for each +individual over the age of thirteen. + +As no man's hours was worth more than another's, and as every +transaction was to be based on time, rather than on money, there was no +small likelihood that any one man or group of men could ever obtain a +commanding grip on the finances of the Island. + +And so it came to pass that all manner of enterprises sprang into +existence. Competition was not allowed. There could be but one millinery +shop, one dress-making establishment, one shoe and sandal factory, and +so on. Everything was conducted on a strictly cash basis; there were no +"charge accounts." + +Olga Obosky, as the proprietress of the millinery shop, earned no more +than any one of her half-dozen assistants,--and they were all paid by +the "government." The same could be said of Madame Careni-Amori, who +conducted a school of music, and the great Joseppi who graciously,--even +gladly,--went into the tailoring business. Andrew Mott, one time First +Officer on the Doraine, opened a "smoke" store and dispensed cured +weed that Flattner authorized him to call "tobacco." The austere Mrs. +Spofford decided to open a dress-making shop! + +It was all very simple, this man-to-man system of traffic, but no one +took it lightly or in the spirit of jest. They were serious, they were +sober-minded. Interest, incentive, grim determination centred in the +seemingly childish arrangement. Greed was lacking, for there was no +chance to hoard; confidence was paramount, for there was no chance to +lose. + +The "hours" travelled in a circle, from the "government" to people, from +people to "government"; when all was said and done, it was the product +of soil and sea that formed the backbone of the system. + +With the adoption of the plan, it was to become a punishable +offence,--indeed, it was to be classified as treason,--for any resident +of Trigger Island to "forage" for necessities. He could do what he +pleased in respect to the non-essentials, but when it came to foodstuffs +of any kind or description, he was guilty of a felony if he failed to +turn all that he produced or secured into the general stores. + +"Strikes me," said Randolph Fitts in council meet-ing, "that we are +arriving at the most exquisite state of socialism. This comes pretty +close to being the essence of that historic American dream, 'of the +people, by the people, for the people.' Up to date, that has been the +rarest socialistic doctrine ever promulgated, but we are going it a long +sight better. 'From the people, by the people, to the people.' What do +you call that but socialism?" + +"Are you speaking to me?" demanded Percival. + +"In a general way, yes." + +"Well, it's not my idea of socialism. So far as I've been able to +discover, socialism is a game in which you are supposed to take +something out of your pocket and put it into the other fellow's whether +he wants it or not. This scheme of ours is quite another thing. We're +not planning to split even on what we've got in our pockets so much as +we're planning to divide what we've got in our hands, and there's a lot +of difference between a hand and a pocket, old top. You can see what's +in one and you can't see what's in the other. And, by the way, Fitts, +if we let the socialists in this camp suspect that we're trying to +introduce socialism here, there'll be a revolution before you can say +Jack Robinson. They won't stand for it. They'd let out the blamedest +roar on record if they thought we were trying to deprive them of the +right to feel sorry for themselves." + +Ruth hurried over to the town-hall bright and early on this snowy, gusty +morning. The forenoon session of the school began punctually at 8:30 +o'clock. She was there half an hour ahead of time to see that there +was a roaring fire in the huge fire-place, and that the benches for +the scholars were drawn up close to it. There were two teachers besides +herself,--and both of them were experienced "school marms." She taught +the "infant class," comprising about a dozen tots. The three teachers +took turns about in building the fires, arranging the benches and +cleaning the crude blackboard. + +There had been church-services the night before, and the benches +were all in use, arranged so that they faced the combination +pulpit-rostrum-stage at the far end of the room. Tonight there was to be +a general committee meeting to discuss the prospective financial scheme +and the general election that was to take place the following week. + +The structure was not blessed with a paucity of names. If there was +to be a council-meeting or a camp assembly, it was called the +"Meeting-house." On Sundays it became the "tabernacle." Week-days it +was known as the "schoolhouse," and at odd times it was spoken of as the +"theatre," the "concert-hall," and the "Trigger Island court-house." +In one corner stood the grand piano from the Doraine, regularly and +laboriously tuned by the great Joseppi. Madame Careni-Amori gave vocal +and instrumental lessons here every afternoon in the week, from three +to six. Among the older children there were a number who had voices that +seemed worth developing, and the famous soprano put her heart and soul +into the bewildering task of stuffing the rudiments of music down their +throats. + +Ruth stopped just inside the door and looked about her in astonishment. +The benches had been drawn up in an orderly semi-circle about the +fire-place. Beyond them she observed the figure of a man kneeling before +the fire, using a bellows with great effect. The big logs were snapping, +and cracking, and spitting before the furious blasts. + +She closed the door and started across the room in his direction. +Suddenly she recognized the broad back and the familiar but very +unseasonable panama hat. Panic seized her. She turned quickly, bent on +making her escape. Her heart was beating like a triphammer,--she felt +strangely weak in the knees. As abruptly, she checked the impulse to +flee. Why should she run away, now that the moment she had wished for so +ardently the night before was at hand? Chance had answered her call with +amazing swiftness. She was alone with him,--she could go to him and lay +her weapons at his feet and say,--as she had said a hundred times in the +night,--"I can fight no more. I am beaten." + +But now that the time had come for bravery, she found herself sorely +afraid. A chill swept through her,--a weakening chill that took away +her strength and left her trembling from head to foot. The crisis was +at hand,--the great, surpassing crisis. She found herself hazily, +tremulously wondering what the next minute in her life would be like? +What would be said in it, what would happen to her? Would she be in his +arms, would his lips be upon hers,--all in the minute to come? Was the +whole of her life to be altered in the brief space of a minute's time? + +A warm glow suddenly drove off the chill. It came with the realization +that he was building the fire for her,--that his thoughts were +of her,--that he had stolen into the building to make it warm and +comfortable long before she was due to arrive,--and that he would steal +away again as soon as the "chores" were done. + +He arose to his feet and stood over the fire for a moment or two, +watching its lively progress. Apparently satisfied with his efforts, he +turned and started toward the door. She was standing in his path, a shy, +wavering smile on her lips. + +He halted, and after an instant's hesitation, stammered: + +"I--I never dreamed you'd be around so early. I thought I'd run in as I +was passing and build a fire for--for the kiddies. Get the place warmed +up a bit before--" + +"Will you let me say something, Mr. Percival?" she broke in, hurrying +the words. + +He fumbled for his hat. "I am sorry if you are annoyed, Miss Clinton. +Please believe me when I tell you I hoped to get out before you came. I +came early so that you would not find me--" + +"You are not letting me say what I want to say." + +She came toward him, her hand extended. "Oh, I don't want to thank you +for lighting the fire and putting the room in order. I want to tell you +that I surrender." + +"Surrender?" he exclaimed, staring. + +"I cannot fight you any longer," she said breathlessly. + +He looked dumbly first at her hand and then into her eyes. She was an +arm's length away. + +"Fight me?" he mumbled, uncomprehending. + +"You--you said we could not be friends. I knew what you meant. If--if +you love me,--oh, if you do love me, we need not be friends. But I know +you love me. If I did not know it I could not have come to you like this +and--" + +"Do I love you?" he cried out. "My God, I--I worship you." + +She held out both arms to him. "Then, we will try no more to be +friends," she murmured very softly. "Here are my arms. I surrender." + +A long time after he said to her as they sat before the jubilant, +applauding fire,--the only witness to their ecstasy: + +"Now I understand why we have never really been friends. It wasn't what +God intended. Even in the beginning we were not friends. We thought we +were,--but we weren't. We were lovers, Ruth,--from the start." + +"I tried very hard to hate you," she sighed, drawing a little closer +in the crook of his encircled arm. "How wonderful it all is,--how +wonderful!" + +"I never believed it could come true. I hoped, God, how I hoped,--but +it didn't seem possible that this could ever happen. I've wanted to hold +you in my arms, to kiss your dear lips, to kiss your eyes, to touch +your hair, to press you tight against my heart. And here I am awake, not +dreaming, not longing,--and I have done all these things. Lord! I wonder +if I can possibly be dreaming all this for the thousandth time." + +"I was thinking of you when I came into this room,--not ten minutes +ago,--and suddenly I saw you. I was terrified. I knew then that my +dreams were coming true,--I knew it, and I don't know why I did not run +away. Any self-respecting, modest girl would have done so. But what did +I do? I, a supposedly sensible, well-brought-up--" + +"You caught me trying to run away," he broke in. "I give you my word, +my heart was in my throat all the time I was working over that +fire,--scared stiff with the fear that you would come in and bayonet me +with one of those icicle looks of yours. And see what really happened!" + +They were silent for some time, staring into the fire. Suddenly his arm +tightened; he drew a sharp breath. She looked up quickly. + +"Why are you frowning?" + +"I was just thinking," he replied after a moment's hesitation. + +He gave a queer little jerk of his head, as if casting off something +that bothered him. Into his paradise had slipped the memory of a night +not long since when he held the yielding, responsive form of another +woman in his arms, and felt the thrill of an ignoble passion surging +through his veins. The kiss of the sensualist had burned on his lips for +days; even to this hour it had clung to them; he was never free from +the fire it had started in his imagination. And always on Olga's red, +alluring lips lurked the reminder that she had not forgotten; in her +eyes lay the light of expectancy. + +"Of whom?" asked Ruth, not coyly, but with a directness that startled +him. She seemed to have divined that his thoughts were not of her in +that brief, flitting instant. + +"Of myself," he answered, quite truthfully. + +She laid her hand on his. "I forbid you to think of any one but me," she +said. + +He was silent for a moment. "I shall never think of any one but you, +Ruth Clinton," he said earnestly. "You have nothing to fear." + +"I believe you," she said, and pressed his hand tightly. After a slight +pause, she went on, looking straight into his eyes: "I might have lost +you, dear,--and I could have blamed no one but myself. She--she is very +alluring." + +He shook his head. "I've always been of the opinion that Samson's hair +needed trimming. His mother probably brought him up with Fauntleroy +curls, poor chap. If he'd had his hair cut regularly, he wouldn't have +looked such an ass when Delilah got through with him." + +"I don't quite follow the parable." + +"In other words, it's what a man's got in his head and not so much what +he's got on it that makes him strong," he explained, still more or less +cryptically. + +"I am beginning to see. You made good use of what you have in your head, +is that it?" + +"I made use of what you put into it a good many months ago, dear heart. +You have been in my head and in my heart all these months, and so it was +you who made me strong. Without you in there, I might have been as +weak as Samson was before he had his hair cut. No sensible man blames +Delilah. In fact, men are rather strong for her. When you stop to think +how long old Samson got away with it, and what a shock it must have been +to her after she trimmed him and found there wasn't anything left to +speak of, you've just got to feel sorry for her. She took one good look +at his head and understood why he let his hair grow. He was like the +fellow who wears long whiskers to develop his chin. If Samson had +had room enough in his head for a thought of anything except himself, +Delilah wouldn't have been able to catch him napping." + +She could not help laughing. "You take a most original way of evading +the point. Still, I am satisfied. You did not have room in your head +for any one else but me,--and that's all there is to it. I can't help +feeling tremendously complimented, however. She is quite capable of +turning any man's head." + +"She plays fair, Ruth," he said seriously. "She keeps the danger signal +up all the time. That's more than you can say for most women." + +"Yes," said she; "she plays fair. She is a strange woman. She has given +me a lot of advice,--and I am just beginning to take it." + +"If I had believed what she told me three months ago," said he, "this +glorious hour would have been advanced just that length of time." + +Ruth stiffened. "What did she tell you?" + +"She told me I was a fool and a coward; that all I had to do was to walk +up to you and say 'Here, I want you,' and that would have been the +end of my suspense. She told me something I didn't know and couldn't +believe." + +"Indeed! I like her impudence! She--" + +"She told me you were as much in love with me as I was with you. +Honest,--was she right?" + +Ruth sighed. "I suppose she was right." + +"And would you have come to me if I had said 'I want you '?" + +"If you had said it as you say it now, I--listen! Good gracious! There +are the children!" + +She sprang to her feet, blushing furiously. The door opened and +three small children were fairly blown into the room,--three swarthy, +black-eyed urchins who stared in some doubt at the "boss" and the adored +"teacher." + +"Good morning, children," she cried out jerkily, and then glanced at +each of the windows in quick succession. "You don't suppose,--" she +began under her breath, turning to Percival with a distressed look in +her eyes. + +"I wouldn't put it above 'em," said he, cheerfully. + +"We should have thought of the windows." + +"Thank God, we didn't," he cried. + +He went out into the storm with the song of the lark in his heart. + +"God, what a beautiful place the world is!" he was saying to himself, +and all the while the sleet was stinging his radiant face with the +relentlessness of angry bees. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +As he swung jauntily down the road in the direction of his "office," +all the world might have seen that it was a beautiful place for him. He +passed children hurrying to school, and shouted envious "hurry-ups" to +them. Men and women, going about the morning's business, felt better for +the cheery greetings he gave them. Even Manuel Crust, pushing a crude +barrow laden with fire-wood, paused to look after the strutting figure, +resuming his progress with an annoyed scowl on his brow, for he had +been guilty of a pleasant response to Percival's genial "good-morning." +Manuel went his way wondering what the devil had got into both of them. + +Olga Obosky was peering from a window as he passed her hut. He waved +his hand at her,--and then shook his head. He had passed her three +dancing-girls some distance down the road, romping like children in the +snow. + +Buck Chizler was waiting for him outside the "office." The little jockey +had something on his mind,--something that caused him to grin sheepishly +and at the same time look furtively over his shoulder. + +"Can I see you for a coupla minutes, A. A.?" he inquired, following the +other to the door. + +"Certainly, Buck,--as many minutes as you like." + +Buck discovered Randolph Fitts and Michael Malone seated before the +fire. He drew back. + +"I'd like to see you outside," he said nervously. + +"Well, what is it?" asked Percival, stepping outside and closing the +door. + +Buck led him around the corner of the hut. + +"It ain't so windy here," he explained. "Awful weather, ain't it?" + +"What's troubling you, Buck? Put on your cap, you idiot. You'll take +cold." + +"Plumb nervousness," said Buck. "Same as if I was pulling up to the +start with fifty thousand on the nag. I want to ask your advice, A. A. +Just a little private matter. Oh, nothing serious. Nothing like that, +you know. I just thought maybe you'd--Gosh, I never saw it snow like +this up home, did you? Funny, too, when you think how tropical we ought +to be. There was a bad blizzard a coupla years ago in Buenos Aires, +but--" + +"Come to the point, Buck. What's up?" + +Buck lowered his voice. "Well, you see it's this way. I'm thinking +of getting married. Tomorrow, if possible. Don't laugh! I don't see +anything to laugh at in--" + +"I beg your pardon, old chap. I couldn't help laughing. It's because I'm +happy. Don't mind me. Go ahead. You're thinking of getting married, eh? +Well, what's to prevent?" + +"Do you approve of it? That's what I want to know." + +"Sure. Of course, I approve of it." + +"I just thought I'd make sure. You see, nobody's ever got married here +before, and I didn't know what you'd think of me--er--sort of breaking +the ice, don't you see." + +"She's finally said 'yes,' has she? Good girl! Congratulations, old +chap,--thousands of 'em'--millions." + +"Well, that takes some of the load off my mind," said Buck, as they +shook hands. "Now, there's one or two things more. First, she says she +won't come and live in a hut where five men besides myself are bunking. +I don't blame her, do you? Second, she says if we ever get rescued from +this island, she won't let me go to the war,--not a step, she swears. +I put up a holler right away. I says to her I was on my way to the war +before I ever met her, and then she says I ain't got anything on her. +She was going over to nurse. But she says if she gets married she's +going to claim exemption, or whatever they call it, and she says I got +to do the same,--'cause we'll both have dependents then. Then I says the +chances are the war's over by this time anyhow, and she says a feller +in the Argentine told her on his word of honour it wouldn't be over for +five years or more. But that's a minor point. What's rusting me is this: +how am I going to get rid of them five guys in my cabin?" + +"Have you told them you're going to be married?" + +"Oh, hell, they're the ones that told me." + +"It's pretty rough weather to turn men out into the cold, unfeeling +world, Buck." + +Buck scratched his ear in deep perplexity. "Well, it's got me guessing." +He slumped into an attitude of profound dejection. "What we'd ought to +have done, A. A., was to build a hotel or something like that. If we had +a hotel here, there'd be so blamed many weddings you couldn't keep track +of 'em. That's the only thing that's holding people back. Why, half +the unmarried fellers here are thinking about getting married. They're +thinking, and thinking, and thinking, morning, noon and night. And +they've got the girls thinking, too,--and most of the widders and old +maids besides. I don't see how a smart feller like you, A. A., happened +to overlook the possibility of just this kind of thing happening." + +"Good Lord, what have I got to do with it?" + +"Why, darn it all, you'd ought to have put up a few huts with 'For Rent' +signs on 'em, or else--" + +"By George, Buck! I've got it," cried Percival excitedly. "Have you +thought of a wedding journey?" + +"A what?" + +"Wedding trip,--honeymoon." + +"Well, we might walk up and down the main street here a coupla times," +said Buck sarcastically. "Or take a stroll along the beach or something +like that." + +"What's the matter with a nice long sea voyage?" + +"Say, I'm not kidding about this thing," exclaimed Mr. Chizler, +bristling. "I'm in dead earnest." + +"Has it occured to you that the Doraine is lying out there in the +harbour--Here! Look out! I don't like being hugged by--" + +"My gosh, A. A! Oh, my gosh!" barked the ecstatic bridegroom-apparent. +"How did you happen to think of such a beautiful, wonderful--" + +"How did I happen to think of it?" shouted Percival, just as +ecstatically. "Why, darn your eyes, why shouldn't I think of it? Why did +old Noah think of the Ark? Why, I ask you?" + +"He didn't," said Buck succinctly. "The feller that wrote the Bible +thought of it." + +"What time is it? Oh, Lord, nearly three hours yet before school is +out." + +"Say, are you off your base,--lemme smell your breath. You act +like--Wait a second! There's something else I want to speak to you +about. Is it--is it all right for me to get married? She says I'll have +to get your O. K. before she'll move an inch. She says nobody can do +anything around here without you say so. So I--" + +"You tell her I give my consent gladly, Buck, my boy. Give her a good +kiss for me, and say I'll speak to Captain Trigger this afternoon about +passage on the Doraine. By George, I--I think I'll go and speak to him +about it now." + +"Much obliged, boss. By gosh, you are a brick. There ain't anything you +won't do for a friend, is there?" + +Percival blushed and stammered. "I--I've got to see him anyhow, +Buck,--so don't thank me. By the way, while I'm about it, I suppose +I might as well speak to Parson Mackenzie, eh? Or is it to be Father +Francisco? And that reminds me, I'll have to see Malone and find out +about the legality,--got to have the law on our side, you see, Buck. +Something in the form of a license,--United States of America and all +that,--and also see about fixing up desirable quarters on board the +Doraine. I may have to transfer quite a lot of--er--furniture and so +forth from my hut to the ship, and--" + +"Gee whiz, A. A., you mustn't go to so blamed much trouble for me," +gasped the delighted Buck. + +"Eh? What? Oh, the devil take you! Beat it now. I'm going to be mighty +busy this morning." + +"I'll do as much for you, A. A., if you ever get married," cried Buck, +once more wringing the other's hand. Then he was off up the road like a +schoolboy. + +Shortly before the noon recess, Percival returned from the Doraine. By +this time, the news had spread through the camp that there was to be a +wedding. Every one he met hailed him with the excited question: + +"Say, have you heard the news?" + +"What news?" + +"There's going to be a wedding." + +"Good Lord!" said Percival to himself. "They must have been peeping +through those windows after all." + +Finding that he had ten minutes to spare before school was out, he +decided to call upon Mrs. Spofford. That lady received him with icy +politeness. + +"I have been expecting you," she said. "Your friend Mr. Shay honoured us +with a visit yesterday. My niece is at the school. Will you sit down and +wait for her, or--" + +"I beg your pardon. What was that you said about Shay?" + +"I said he came to see us." + +Percival stared, "He did?" + +"Please sit down, Mr. Percival. Do not ask me to tell you anything more +about Mr. Shay," she went on hurriedly, and in some confusion. "I don't +believe he would like it,--and as he is a dangerous character, I beg of +you not to--" + +"If Soapy Shay dared to intrude--" + +"I implore you, do not think anything more about it. He was most +courteous and polite and all that." + +He remained standing, his gaze fixed upon her face. Somehow, he guessed +the nature of Soapy's visit. + +"I suppose he came as a tale-bearer." + +"I must decline to discuss the matter, Mr. Percival." + +"Mrs. Spofford," he began, with all the dignity of a courtier, "I have +come to request the hand of your niece in marriage. I have loved her +from the very--" + +"Oh, God!" groaned the trembling lady. "It has come at last! It has +come,--just as I feared. For pity's sake, Mr. Percival, spare her! She +is--" + +"I beg your pardon," he broke in, flushing. "I think you misunderstand +me. I am asking your consent to marry her. I believe it is still +customary among gentlemen to consult the--" + +"Permit me to interrupt you, Mr. Percival," said she, regaining her +composure and her austerity. "What you ask is quite impossible. My niece +is,--ah,--I may say tentatively engaged. I am sorry for you. Perhaps it +would be just as well if you did not wait for her to come in. She will +be--" + +"Mrs. Spofford, I am obliged to confess to you that I have already +spoken to Miss Clinton, and I may add that she is not tentatively +engaged. She has promised to be my wife." + +She drew back as if struck. She was silent for many seconds. + +"It would appear that my consent is not necessary, Mr. Percival," she +said at last, "Why do you come to me?" + +"Because, while you may not suspect it, I was born a gentleman," said he +stiffly. + +She received this with a slight nod of the head and no more. + +"My niece, no doubt in her excitement, has neglected to ask you one or +two very important questions," she said levelly. "First of all, have you +any means of convincing us that you do not already possess a wife?" + +He started. "You are right," he said. "That is an important question, +and she has not asked it. I have no means of convincing you that I have +never been married, Mrs. Spofford. My word of honour is the only thing I +can offer." + +She regarded him narrowly. "Do you consider that sufficient, Mr. +Percival?" + +"I do," said he simply. She waited for him to go on, and was distinctly +impressed by his failure to do so. So far as he was concerned, there was +nothing more to be added. + +"How are we to know what your past life contains? You may have left your +homeland in disgrace, you may even have been a fugitive from justice. We +have no means of knowing. You were a stowaway on board the Doraine. That +much, at least, we do know. We know nothing more. You are smart, you +are clever. Surely you must see yourself that under other circumstances, +under normal conditions, my niece would not have condescended to notice +you, Mr. Percival. We are on an undiscovered island, remote from the +environment, the society, the--" + +"Permit me to remind you, Mrs. Spofford," he interrupted, a trifle +coldly, "that you just remarked that you know nothing whatever about me. +Isn't it barely possible that my life may contain something desirable in +the shape of family, position and environment?" + +"I recall that Mr. Gray did speak of knowing the Percival family. My +niece never allows me to forget it." + +"Mr. Gray did not know my family. He knew of my family, Mrs. Spofford, +if that conveys anything to you. Not that they would not have been proud +to have known him, for he was a gentleman. As for my own case, I can +only say that I am not a fugitive from justice, nor have I done anything +more disgraceful than the average young man who has been through college +and who, ignoring the counsel of his father, proceeds to find out for +himself the same things that his father had found out a great many years +before,--and his father before him, and so on back to the beginning of +man. My great-great-grandfather on my mother's side was a comparatively +recent settler in America. He didn't come over from Scotland until about +1750. My father's people came over in the days of Lord Baltimore. Most +of my remote ancestors were very wicked men. You will find that one of +them was executed in the Tower of London the same week that Lady Jane +Grey went to her death, and another was openly in love with Mistress +Nell Gwyn, thereby falling into disgrace with a monarch named Charles. I +admit that I come of very bad stock." + +A fleeting twinkle lurked in her eyes. + +"You are very adroit, Mr. Percival." + +"Which is as much as to say that I have an agreeable and interesting way +of lying. Is that what you wish to imply, Mrs. Spofford?" + +"Not at all. I say you are adroit because you place me in an +embarrassing position. If I believe your confession that you come of +bad stock, I must also believe that you come of an exceedingly good +old Maryland family." He bowed very low. "My niece, Mr. Percival, is an +orphan. I am and have been her protector since she was fourteen years +of age. She is the possessor of a large fortune in her own right. Her +father,--who was my brother,--gave her into my care when he was on his +death-bed. I leave you to surmise just what were his dying words to me. +She was his idol. I have not failed him in any respect. You ask me to +give my consent to your marriage. I cannot do so. No doubt you will be +married, just as you have planned. She loves you. I have known it for +months. I have seen this day and hour coming,--yes, I have seen it even +more clearly than she, for while she struggled desperately to deceive +herself she has never been able to deceive me. You are a strong, +attractive man. The glamour of mystery rests upon you. You have done +prodigious deeds here, Mr. Percival. All of this I recognize, and I +should be unfair to my own sense of honour were I to deny you my respect +and gratitude. I must be fair. Fear has been the cause of my attitude +toward you,--not fear of you, sir, but fear for my niece. Now I am +confronted by the inevitable. The thing I have tried so hard to avoid +has come to pass. In these circumstances, I am forced to confess that +I have not been without a real, true admiration for you. I admit that +I have felt a great security with you in command of our camp. But, even +so, you are not the man I would have chosen to be Ruth's husband. The +time is surely coming when we will be delivered from this island prison, +when we will return to the life and the people and the conditions we +knew before catastrophe made a new world for us. I am thinking of that +time, Mr. Percival, and not of the present. I fear my niece is thinking +only of the present and not of the future." + +He had listened with grave deference. "Forgive me if I appear +impertinent, Mrs. Spofford, but is it not, after all, the past you are +thinking about?" + +She did not answer at once. His question had startled her. + +"Youth does not live in the past," he went on quietly. "It deals only +with the present. I love Ruth Clinton,--I love her with the cleanest +love a man can feel for a woman. It will not alter when we leave this +island. If we are fated to spend the rest of our lives here, it will +endure to the end." + +"You are speaking for yourself," she said. "Can you speak for Ruth?" + +"No, I cannot," he admitted. "Nor can you," he added boldly. "That is +what I meant when I asked if you were not thinking chiefly of the past. +I cannot say that Ruth will love me always, but I can say this: she +loves me now, as I love her, and in her heart she has said just what I +said to you a moment ago,--that her love will endure." + +"I daresay I do think more of the past than of the present, Mr. +Percival. You are right about the future. It is a blank page, to be +glorified or soiled by what is set down upon it. Fate has thrown you +two together. Perhaps it was so written in the past that you despise. +A single turn of the mysterious wheel of fortune brought you into her +life. Half a turn,--the matter of minutes,--and you would never have +seen each other, and you would have gone your separate ways to the end +of time without even knowing that the other existed. No doubt you both +contend that you cannot live without each other. It is the usual wail of +lovers. But are you quite as certain in your minds that you would have +perished if you had never seen each other?" + +The note of irony did not escape him. He smiled. "In that case, Mrs. +Spofford, we should not have existed at all." + +She shook her head despairingly. "You are too clever for me," she said. +"I warn you, however, that I shall do everything in my power to persuade +Ruth to reconsider her promise to you." + +"Nothing could be fairer than that," said he, without rancor. "If she +comes to me this afternoon and says she has changed her mind and cannot +marry me, I shall not ask her again. Will you be kind enough, Mrs. +Spofford, to include that in your argument? It may spare her a lot of +worry and anxiety." + +He bowed ceremoniously and took his departure. She went to the window +and, drawing aside the curtain, watched him until he disappeared down +the road. Then, as the curtain fell into place, she said to herself: + +"Their children will be strong and beautiful." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +A fortnight later, Ruth and Percival were married. He was now governor +of Trigger Island. + +The ceremony took place at noon on the Green in front of the Government +Building,--(an imposing name added to the already extensive list by +which the "meeting-house" was known),--and was attended by the whole +population of the island. His desire for a simple wedding had been +vigorously, almost violently opposed by the people. Led by Randolph +Fitts and the eloquent Malone, they demanded the pomp and ceremony of a +state wedding. As governor of Trigger Island, they clamoured, it was his +duty to be married in the presence of a multitude! A general holiday was +declared, a great "barbecue" was arranged--(minus the roasted ox),--and +when it was all over, the joyous throng escorted the governor and his +lady to the gaily decorated "barge" that was to transport them from the +landing to the Doraine. + +Olga Obosky made the bride's bonnet and veil, and draped the latter on +the morning of the wedding day. Like the fabled merchants of the Arabian +Nights she appeared to the bride-elect and displayed her wares. From the +depths of her theatre trunks she produced a bewildering assortment of +laces, chiffon, silks, and the filmiest of gauzes. + +"You must not be afraid zat they will contaminate you," she explained, +noting the look of dismay in Ruth's eyes. "Zey have never adorned my +body, zey have never been expose to the speculating eye of the public, +zey have not hid from view these charms of mine. No, these are fair +and virtuous fabrics. It is you who will be the first to wear them, my +friend. Take your choice. See! Zis piece, is it not wonderful? It comes +from Buda Pesth. One day it would perhaps have caressed my flesh in the +Dance of the Sultan's Dream,--but, alas,--zat is not to be. Feel, my +friend,--take it in your hand. See? You could hide it in the palm of one +of them,--and presto! Throw it outspread,--and it is like a blanket of +mist filling the room. It is priceless. It is unobtainable. None except +Obosky can afford to dance in such imperial stuff as this. Take it,--it +is yours. It is my pleasure that you should have it. Better far it +should be your bridal veil than to drape these abandoned legs of mine." + +And so it was that the scant costume of the Sultan's Dream became the +bridal veil of the governor's lady. + +If Olga Obosky was sore at heart, she gave no sign. On the contrary, +she revealed the sprightliest interest in the coming nuptials. Percival +himself had told her the news within the hour after his interview with +Mrs. Spofford. In his blind happiness, he had failed to notice the +momentary stiffening of her body as if resisting a shock; he did not see +the hurt, baffled look that darkened her eyes for a few seconds, and +the swiftly passing pallor that stole into her face and vanished almost +instantly. He saw only the challenging smile that followed close upon +these fleeting signs, and the mocking gleam in her eyes. + +"So?" she had said. "So the citadel is yours, my friend. Hail to the +chief! I salute you. But consider, O conqueror, what it is you are +about to do. You are setting a woeful example. There will be a stampede, +a panic. People will trample each other under foot in ze mad rush +for captivity. The wedding bell will crack under ze strain of so much +ringing. Everybody will be getting married, now zat they find it is so +easy and so simple. I congratulate you, my friend. You have been very +slow,--I have said she was yours for the asking, you will remember. She +is good, she is beautiful, she is pure gold, my friend. I am her friend. +Do not ever forget, my Percivail, I am her friend." + +He flushed warmly. He could not misinterpret her meaning. She spoke +slowly, deliberately. It was renunciation on her part. + +"I understand, Olga," he said. + +She smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. + +"Oh, but you do not understand!" she cried. "You are so very much +perplexed. It is enough for me that you are perplexed. I am content. I +am the puzzle you will never solve. So! La la! You will never cease to +wonder. Look!" + +She pointed her finger at a man who was crossing the Green below them. + +"I am a puzzle to zat man also. He thought that he understood." + +"Landover? What do you mean?" + +A spasm of fury transformed her features. She hissed out the words: + +"I did spit in his face last night,--zat is all." + +The thirteenth of April, 1918, came on Saturday. Defying superstition, +Ruth selected it as her wedding day. It was a bright, warm autumn day, +bestowed by a gallant sun, and there was great rejoicing over this +evidence of God's approval. It came as a winter's whim, for that night +the skies were black and thunderous; the winds roared savagely between +the lofty walls of Split Mountain and whined across the decks of the +slanting Doraine, snug in the little basin, while out on the boundless +deep the turmoil of hell was raging. + +And so began the honeymoon of the stowaway and the lady fair, even as +the "voyage" of the jockey and his bride had begun a fortnight before. +They sat at the Captain's table in the ghostly, dismantled saloon. Above +them hung two brightly burnished lanterns, shedding a mellow light upon +the festal board. Outside, the whistling wind, the swish of the darkened +waters, the rattle of davits and the creak of the straining timbers. + +Up from his place at the head of the table rose the gray and gallant +skipper. + +"Up, gentlemen," said he, his face aglow. "I give you the health, the +happiness and the never diminishing glory of the governor's lady." + +"May she never be less," added the gaunt First Officer, who spent his +days ashore watching the growth of a new Doraine and his nights on board +with the failing master of the older one. + +And in the rare old port from the Captain's locker they pledged the +radiant bride. + +"A long voyage and a merry one!" cried Mr. Codge, the purser, as he +drained his goblet dry. + +Mr. Furman Nicholas Chizler bowed very gravely to the lady on the +Captain's right, and then to the one at his left. + +"What care we which way we sail so long as the wind's behind us?" quoth +he. + + + + + + +BOOK THREE + +CHAPTER I. + + +In the far-off Northland it is winter again,--the winter of 1919-20. +Trigger Island is bright and clean with the furbishings of summer. It +is January,--January without its coat of white,--January as green as the +tender gourd. + +There are a dozen graves or more on Cape Sunrise; Betty Cruise no longer +lies alone out on the windswept point. Crudely chiseled on the rough +headstones are names that have not been mentioned in this chronicle, +still not the less enduring. One name is there, however, chipped in a +great black slab from the face of Split Mountain, that will never +be forgotten as long as Trigger Island exists: it is that of Captain +Weatherby Trigger. + +The master of the Doraine died aboard-ship in the second winter. After +his death the ship was abandoned. Mr. Codge and the half-dozen old +mariners who had made their home in the dismal hulk came ashore. + +Grim and ugly and as silent as the grave, save for the winds that moan +through her portholes and corridors, she lies rusting in sun and storm, +a gloomy presence that fills the soul with awe. Even the birds of the +air shun her barren decks; less fastidious bats have taken up their +abode in the heart of her, and spiders great and small are at work on a +sickly shroud. + +Twenty months have passed. Christmas and New Year's day have twice been +celebrated and another Easter Sunday has found its way into the faithful +journal of Peter Snipe, and with them two amazing Fourths of July when +there was coasting on the long slopes and winter sports on the plains. +There has been one bountiful harvest and seed has been sown for yet +another. The full length of the sunny plain is under cultivation. The +bins in the granaries are well-filled with the treasures of the soil; +the gardens have increased and flourished; the warehouse is stacked +with fresh and dried fruits, vegetables, honey, and row upon row of +preserves! Great earthen jars, modeled with all the severity of the +primitive cave-dweller, serve as receptacles. The grist-mill on Leap +Frog River is busy from dawn till dusk; the forge rings with the music +of hammer and anvil; a saw-mill in the heart of Dismal Forest hums its +whining tune all day long. A noisy, determined engine, fashioned by +mechanics out of material taken from the engine and boiler room of the +Doraine provides the motive power for the saws and the means to produce +ponderous, far-reaching blasts on the transferred "fog-horn." + +New and more commodious huts have gone up, roads have been blazed +through the forests, a logging ferry plies between the opposite shores +of Mott Haven, and a ship is on the ways above the landing "stage." + +At the top of Split Mountain stands a lofty wireless tower. For months +it has been spitting vain messages to the four winds. Out of the great +silences at rare intervals come faint flickers of radio calls, jumbled, +indistinct, undecipherable,--but, for all that, definite pulse beats of +a far-off life. + +Trigger Island went mad with joy when the first of these aerial +mutterings was reported down from the mountain-top. "Only a question +of time now," they cried in their delirium. But weeks went by before +another sound was heard. Now the report of feeble, long-separated +manifestations, like vague spirit-rappings, no longer caused excitement +or enthusiasm,--only a rueful shaking of heads. + +Lieutenant Platt's station at the top of the mountain is a rude, +elementary affair, notwithstanding the many weary, puzzling, +disheartening months spent in its construction. The damaged, almost +useless dynamo from the Doraine had to be repaired and conveyed to the +crest of the eminence; what seemed to be fruitless ages were consumed +in devising an engine with power sufficient to produce even the feeble +results that followed. And when the task of installing the plant was +completed, the effective radius was far short of a hundred miles. +Constant efforts were being made to develop greater sending power, but +the means at hand were inadequate, the material unobtainable. + +The firing of the Doraine's gun had long since been discontinued. The +supply of shells being greatly reduced, Lieutenant Platt decided to +waste no more of them, but to wait for some visible evidence that a +vessel was within signalling distance: a shadowy plume of smoke on +the far horizon or the white tip of a sail peeping over the rim of the +world. + +Frugality is the watchword. The days of plenty are sternly guarded so +that their substance may not be squandered; always there is the thought +of the lean year that may come, the year when the harvests fail and +famine stalks naked through the land. + +The first law, therefore, is thrift. Not thrift in its common, accepted +sense, based on the self-denial of the individual, but a systematic +shoulder-to-shoulder stand for the general welfare of the community. +There is no such thing as waste on Trigger Island. The grim spectre of +want and privation treads softly behind every mortal there, and there is +none who treats its invisible presence with disdain. Even the wood-ashes +from stoves and fireplaces are carefully hoarded in hoppers, for the +alkaline solution obtained by treating them with water is lye. This lye +is being used chiefly in the production of a soap not unlike that made +by thrifty farmers' wives in the Argentine, experimentation with +the pulpy fruit of a tree belonging to the variety known as Sapindus +marginatus bringing about rather astonishing results. + +For many months of the year the people wear sandals on their bare feet. +Only those who toil in the forests don the uncouth boots turned out +by the firm of cobblers known as Block & Nicklestick. Shoes, boots +and slippers of another day are zealously guarded by their owners, in +anticipation of still another day,--the day of deliverance. "Waste not, +want not," is the motto of Trigger Island. + +The second winter brought a double catastrophe, and for days thereafter +deepest gloom prevailed. Even the stout-hearted Percival drooped under +the weight of it. + +Fire wiped out the work of months in the space of a few bleak, bitter +hours. The sturdy little ship that was so well along toward completion +was destroyed. + +Months of faithful, patient, dogged toil had resulted in the +construction of a stout hull which stood proudly on the ways to +be admired and glorified by the eager, confident supporters of the +determined little band of builders. Six weeks more would have seen the +vessel off the ways and floating gaily on the surface of the snug little +basin, ready for the final touches, the provisioning and the ultimate +departure of the hardy company that was to take her out into the open +stretches in quest of the helping hand. For weeks a devoted, one-minded +community had been preparing food, raiment and comforts for the men who +were to go forth in the new Doraine. The masts and spars were in place, +the forecastle and cabin were almost ready for occupancy, the galley was +nearing completion,--and then came swift, relentless disaster. + +The night was cold and windy. Down at the water's edge, almost under the +bulging side of the ship, two men had their quarters at one end of the +low, rambling carpenter shop. At the other end was located the forge. +The very thing they were there to guard against happened on this +miserable night. Fire broke out in the forge. + +The man on watch had fallen asleep. His name was Smiley. It is mentioned +here for the only time in this narrative. + +Shortly before midnight, his companion was awakened by the smell of +smoke. He scrambled out of his blankets on the floor,--and cursed the +man who still slept in his chair beside the smoke-befogged lantern on +the end of a carpenter's bench. Flames were creeping along the wooden +partition separating the forge from the shop. Half a mile away three +hundred men were sleeping,--but half a mile is half a mile. Before the +watchmen could sound the alarm, after their first courageous efforts +to subdue the blaze, the building was a roaring mass of flames and a +gleeful wind had carried tongues of fire to the side of the vessel where +they licked shapeless black patterns at first and then swiftly turned +them to red. + +Stark-eyed, shivering people stood far back among the trees throughout +the rest of the night and watched the work of months go up in flame and +smoke. Nothing could be done to save the ship. Hewn from the hardiest +trees in the forest, caulked and fortified to defy the most violent +assaults of water, she was like paper in the clutch of flames. In the +grey of early morn the stricken people slunk back to their cabins and +gave up hope. For not only was their ship destroyed but the priceless +tools and implements with which she had been built were gone as well. It +was the double catastrophe that took the life, the spirit, out of them. + +And while the day was still breaking, the man who had slept at his post, +stole off into the forest and cut his throat from ear to ear. + +But now, months afterward, another ship is on the ways. Indomitable, +undaunted, the builders rose above disaster and set to work again. +New tools were fashioned from steel and iron and wood,--saws, chisels, +sledges, planes and hammers--in fact, everything except the baffling +augurs. Resolute, unbeaten hands toiled anew, and this time the humble +craft was not to be given a luckless name. + +Superstition was rife. All save Andrew Mott saw ill-omen in the name +"Doraine." Steadfastly he maintained that as the Doraine had brought +them safely to the island, guided by a divine Providence, a Doraine +could be trusted to take them as miraculously away. And as for changing +the name of his prattling ward, he fairly roared his objection; though +an uncommonly mild man for a sailor, he uttered such blasphemous things +to a group of well-meaning women that even Sheriff Soapy Shay was +aghast. + +After the dreary period that followed the disaster, there came a sharp +awakening as from a dream filled with horrors. Something lying dormant +in the com-mon breast had stirred. It was the unbeaten spirit that would +not die. These men and women lifted up their heads and beheld the star +of hope undimmed. In a flash, the aspect changed. + +"We must start all over again," was the cry that awoke them, and from +that time on there was no such word as fail in the lexicon of Trigger +Island. + +Slowly, laboriously out of the ashes rose a new hull, a stauncher one +than its ill-fated predecessor. The year wasted in the building of the +first ship was lamented but not mourned. Cheerfulness, even optimism, +prevailed throughout the village. No man, no woman lifted the voice +of complaint. Resignation took the form of stoicism. A sort of dogged +taciturnity was measurably relieved by the never-failing spirit of +camaraderie. There was even a touch of bravado in the attitude of these +people toward each other,--as of courage kept up by scoffing. Even +Death, on his sombre visits, was regarded with a strange derision by +those who continued to spin. They had cheated him not once but many +times, and they mocked him in their souls. + +"I'm not afraid of Death," was Buck Chizler's contribution. "I've just +discovered that Death is the rottenest coward in the world. He either +waits till you get too blamed old to fight, or else he jumps on you when +you ain't looking, or when you're so weak from sickness you don't care +what happens. I used to be afraid of Death. And why? Because I wasn't +onto the old bum; Why, look at what he does. He jumps onto weeny little +babies and feeble old women and--and horses. Now, I'm onto him, and I +ain't got any use for a cheap sport,--not me." + +The little community had taken to religion. As is invariably the case, +adversity seeks surcease in some form of piety. Men who had not entered +a church since the days of their childhood, men who had scoffed at the +sentimentality of religion, now found consolation in the thing they had +once despised. They were abashed and bewildered at first, as one after +another they fell into the habit of attending services. They were +surprised to find something that they needed, something that made life +simpler and gentler for them, something uplifting. + +"We're a queer mess of Puritans," reflected Randolph Fitts. "You know +that parrot of old Bob Carr's? Well, he took it out and wrung its neck +last night,--after all the time, and trouble, and patience he spent in +giving her a swell private education. There never was a bird that could +swear so copiously as that bird of Bob's. He taught her every thing +she knew. He worked day and night to provide her with an up-to-date +vocabulary. He used to lie awake nights thinking up new words for old +Polly to conquer. Now he says the blamed old rip was deceiving him all +the time. She began springing expletives on him that he'd never heard +of before in all his forty years before the mast. She first began using +them a couple of months ago when he undertook to reform her. He +started in to teach her to say 'good gracious' and 'goodness me' and +'hoity-toity' and all such stuff, and she cursed so loud and so long +that he had to throw a bucket of water on her. + +"Every time he came home from church, that redheaded harridan would open +up on him with such a string of vituperation that he had to hold his +ears so's not to forget himself and backslide. Well, it got so that Bob +couldn't live with her any longer. She simply wouldn't puritanize. The +nearest he ever got her to saying 'good' was when she said it with only +one 'o,' and then as prefix to 'dammit.' So he decided the only way to +reform her was to murder her. She managed to nip a piece out of his hand +while he was doing it, however, and he's had the hump all day because he +fell from grace and said something he'd oughtn't to. Yes, sir; we're a +queer mess of Puritans. Look at us. Catholics, Presbyterians, +Baptists, Methodists, Jews, infidels, Theosophists,--even Christian +Scientists,--all rolled up into one big bundle labeled: 'Handle with +Prayer.' We know nearly all the Ten Commandments by heart, and the +Beatitudes flow from us in torrents. My wife was saying only the other +night that if Sheriff Shay didn't arrest that bird for using profane +language, she'd start a petition to have--Hello, Soapy! I didn't know +you were present." + +"What was she going to do?" demanded the Sheriff of Trigger Island. + +"There's no use telling you now. It's too late. Polly has gone to a +place I don't dare mention, so what's the use talking about it?" + +"I can't go 'round pinchin' fallen parrots," growled Soapy. "Besides, +I'm the feller that learned her most of the cuss-words old Bob never +heard before. I never saw a bird that was so anxious to improve. She +used to set there with her ear cocked, just simply crazy to learn +something new. Every time she'd see me coming she'd begin to hop up and +down on her perch and call me names, figurin' I'd lose my temper and +give her a tongue lashin'. Gosh, I'm glad she's dead. It was gettin' +to be an awful nuisance chasing parrots out of the trees back of Bob's +house. They got so's they'd come down there and set around all day +pickin' up things she said. Somebody told me the other day he heard a +parrot 'way up in the woods swearin' like a sailor. He fired a club at +it, and what do you think it said to him?" + +"If you weren't such an ungodly liar, Soapy, I'd ask you," said Chief +Justice Malone. + +Soapy regarded him sorrowfully. + +"If you keep on sayin' things like that, Judge, I'll have to tell your +wife you ain't true to her," said he. + +"And that would be the most prodigious lie you ever told," exclaimed Mr. +Malone. + +"Sure. You and me know it's a lie, but you'd ketch hell, just the same." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +The population of Trigger Island has increased. Following the example +of Buck Chizler and the Governor himself, scores of dubious lovers +took heart. They succeeded in dispelling certain misgivings--and doubts +lurking in the hearts,--not to say consciences,--of approximately +three-fourths of the unmarried women on the island, with the result that +Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie were kept exceedingly busy for a +number of weeks. + +The "state," guided by the newly elected Chief Justice, extracted vows +even more severe than those incorporated in the marriage +service. And yet, despite the emphatic declarations of certain +candidates,--principally male,--there remained in the minds of +all,--including brides,--a lingering doubt. On the other hand, several +ardent and undoubtedly honest gentlemen were unable to marry the objects +of their affection for the simple reason that too many people were able +to recall the lamentations of the ladies themselves, in the early days +when it was customary to suffer because of the suspense and agony their +poor husbands were enduring at home. + +The case of Joe Hooker and Matilda Larson was particularly distressing, +and ultimately led to the passage of a rather drastic law by the +Council. Judge Malone was the father of this law. It provided for the +automatic annulment of all previous marriages at the expiration of two +years,--provided, however, the absent husband or wife didn't turn up to +contest the matter. This law also granted absolute freedom to the absent +husband or wife, who was thereby authorized to remarry without further +notice,--or words to that effect. It was, declared Randolph Fitts, a +perfectly just and equable law, and would no doubt ease the minds of +quite a number of people in far-off lands,--if they ever heard of it. + +Joe and Matilda had been married nearly two months when, in the thick +of a connubial row, he demanded her passport. He even went so far as to +threaten her with his if she didn't produce it at once. Matilda's +temper was no milder than Joe's. She not only dug up her passport but a +marriage certificate as well, while all he could show was a passport. +It was a very unfortunate contretemps, in view of the fact that they +shortly afterwards kissed and "made up." It so happened that there +were quite a number of witnesses to the flaunting of these damaging +documents, and as Trigger Island was then in the first stages of a +religious upheaval, it was impossible to overlook this definite instance +of iniquity. Despite the recantations of the chagrined couple,--and, +it must be added, the surreptitious disappearance of the incriminating +papers,--the matter was brought before the tribunal of justice. Chief +Justice Malone was equal to the emergency. Indeed, he had been expecting +something of the sort, and was prepared. He ordered both of the +interested parties to bring suit for divorce from their legal spouses, +one for "failure to provide," the other for "desertion," and promptly +granted decrees, service by publication having been obtained through the +medium of the Trigger Island Pioneer, printed monthly by Peter Snipe, +editor and publisher, limited to an edition of one, owing to the +scarcity of paper, and posted conspicuously for all subscribers on the +bulletin board in front of the "government building." Additional spice +was lent to the affair by the surprising reluctance of Joe and Matilda +to re-enter the paradise from which they had been ejected. Apparently +they had had enough of each other. Moreover, they had both "got +religion" and insisted on repenting at leisure, separately and alone. +But people took a very decided stand in the matter. They could repent in +any manner they liked after Matilda's baby was born, but not before. And +so they were married once more, and, strange to relate, lived happily +and contentedly thereafter. + +Now, while all this may strike the reader as footless and trivial, it +really has a distinct place in the chronicles of Trigger Island. +If, perforce, the writer has succeeded in treating the situation +facetiously, it should not be assumed that the people of Trigger Island +had any desire or inclination to be funny about it. On the contrary, +they took it very seriously, and quite naturally so, if one stops to +consider the narrow confines by which their very existence was bounded. +There were no such things as "trifles" in the daily life of Trigger +Island. The smallest incident took on the importance of an event, the +slightest departure from the ordinary at once became significant. In +other circumstances, these people would have been vastly amused by the +quixotic settlement of the affairs of Joe and Matilda; they would have +grinned over the extraordinary decree of Justice Malone, and they would +have taken it all with an indulgent wink. As a matter of fact, they +were stern-faced and intense. They had made laws of their own, they had +established a code. The violation of either was not to be countenanced. +It was of no consequence to them that Judge Malone's methods were +without precedent, that they were not even a travesty in the true light +of the law. + +No one was more soberly in earnest than Michael Malone himself. The +proceedings were carried out with the utmost dignity and formality. +There were no smiles, no jocose comments. + +Nothing will serve more clearly to illustrate the sense of isolation to +which the people of Trigger Island had resigned themselves than the fact +that they accepted the Judge's decision and the subsequent marriage +as absolutely unassailable, either from a legal or an ethical point of +view. + +The town itself was flourishing. Traffic and commerce were carried on +in the most systematic, organized manner. Everybody was busy. The utter +impossibility for one man or set of men to profit at the expense of +others naturally put a curb upon ambitions, but it did not subdue the +spirit of enterprise. + +There is a baby in the Governor's Mansion,--a lusty boy with blue eyes +and an engaging smile. He is four months old, and his name is already a +household word on Trigger Island. It is not Algernon, nor is it Adonis. +It is John;--John Clinton Percival. + +The Governor's Mansion is a pretentious structure. It has four rooms and +a bath! A wide porch extends along the full front of the house, with a +steeply pitched awning protecting it from the rain and sun. At one end +of the porch is a very cosy arrangement of hand-wrought chairs and +a commodious swinging seat. The other end, just off the parental +bed-chamber, has been converted into an out-door sleeping-room for John +C. Percival. The Governor's lady has no nursemaid. She does her own +housework, her own washing and ironing, and she takes care of her own +baby. (There is no such thing on Trigger Island as a servant. More +than one woman who reads this tale will sigh and murmur something about +Paradise.) Ruth still teaches in the little school. Though she is the +first lady of the land, she supports herself, she earns her daily bread. +It is the law irrevocable. There are no distinctions. Nor would she have +it otherwise. + +The "Mansion," as it was universally called, stands alone at the upper +end of the Green, facing the meeting-house. The nearest hut is at least +two hundred yards away. Work on its construction was begun the day +after the wedding. For weeks men had toiled eagerly, enthusiastically, +voluntarily, and in the first gay days of spring it was completed. +Since then, the same hands, the same thoughts, the same interests were +constantly employed in improvements,--not only to the house itself but +to the grounds about it. The Governor's "Mansion" became the plaything +of the people. Percival's protests were received with amiable grins. + +"It's our house, boss,--not yours," explained Buck Chizler, whose spare +time was largely expended in the development,--you might almost say, +the financing,--of a flower-bed on the lawn. It was to be the finest +flower-bed of them all, he swore. "This is government property and we, +the people, are going to do what we please with it." + +"That's all very fine, Buck, but don't you think you ought to be +spending your spare hours with your wife, instead of puttering around +here?" + +"Do you know who the boss of this job is? My wife. I'm nothing but an +ordinary day-laborer, a plain Mick, a sort of a Wop, obeying orders. +Good gosh, you don't think I've got brains enough to design this +flower-bed, do you? No, sirree! It takes an artist to think up a design +like this. When I get all these rocks in place according to plans you'll +see what I mean. It'll be a hum-dinger, A. A. This here thing running +off this way is the tail. Come over here and look at it from this +side,--it's upside down from where you're standin'." + +"Tail? Tail of what?" + +"Tail of a horse. This is going to be a horse when it's finished." + +"My God!" + +Buck was not above being irritated by the dismay in Percival's voice. + +"Minnie's got her heart set on it, A. A.," he explained. "It's going to +be a sorrel horse, you see,--with a blue tail and a red head. Mustard, +hollyhocks and geraniums is what she's going to plant here when I get +the bed fixed. Socrates,--he was the best horse I ever straddled,--he +was a sorrel. I took him down the--" + +"As far as you've got, Buck, it looks more like a dachshund than a +horse," observed Percival. + +Buck eyed his work deprecatingly. "That's because there ain't space +enough. I had to either saw his legs off or else have him layin' down. +Minnie had him kneelin' in her first sketch, but gosh, it was the +funniest thing you ever saw. It ain't possible for a horse to kneel +with his hind legs, but she had him doin' it all right,--kneeling +forward, at that, with his tail stickin' straight up so's it wouldn't +be in the way of his heels. It's all Jack Wales's fault. He simply would +put that blamed sun-dial of his right in the middle of this plot,--and +these doggoned gravel-walks running every which way give me the +blind-staggers. Why, A. A., you got more gravel walks here than +they've got in Central Park. And all these scrubby hedges, stone walls, +fountains, flower-beds, cedar freaks,--my God, Perce, I'd hate to come +home a little squiffed if I lived in that house of yours, 'specially at +night. Look at old Pedro and Philippa over there, setting out that stuff +that looks like sparrowgrass. And that prize job of Ed Keller's,--my +God, A. A., what good is a dog kennel on this island? There ain't a dog +inside a thousand miles. The only one we ever had was that poodle old +Mrs. Velasco had, and it died before--" + +"That isn't a kennel, Buck." + +"It ain't? Well, what is it?" + +"It's a Swiss chalet." + +"What does Ed Keller know about Swiss chalets?" + +"Nothing,--absolutely nothing, Buck," admitted Percival forcibly. + +A tall, perfectly straight flagpole graced the extensive "front-yard," +and from its peak floated the flag of Trigger Island,--a great white +pennon with a red heart in the centre, symbolic of love, courage, +fidelity. But on the tip of Split Mountain the Stars and Stripes still +waves from sunrise to sunset. + +The new cabins are farther up the slope of the mountains, overlooking +what is now called the "old" town. There is something fairy-like in +the picture one sees at night from the Green below. Dozens of lighted +windows gleam softly through the foliage, for all the world like +witches' lamps. The day reveals thin, blue plumes of smoke stealing out +of the tops of the trees to be wafted off into nothingness; they come +from invisible chimneys far down in the leafy fastnesses. Up here are +the huts of the newly married. Almost without exception, they are tiny +affairs, scarcely larger than the metaphorical bandbox. Each contains +two rooms. + +During the very hot weather in January and February, the long, curving +beach is alive with oddly dressed bathers and idlers. This is at midday +only, when the sun is so hot and fierce that all work ceases for two +hours or more. Though the sun is hot, the water is never warm. A dip in +the surf is all that any one save the hardiest cares to take. They loll +on the cool white sands, under improvised shelters made of boughs, +or indulge in spirited games on the long level stretches. This is the +play-hour of the people throughout the hot months of summer. They "knock +off" work of all sorts, and seek relief from the stifling heat of the +woodland in the cool wet sands along the shore. + +The costumes are strange and varied; some are pretty, others almost +ludicrous. Small children appear in a scant breech-cloth; women of all +ages and proportions wear a sort of one-piece "jumper," arms bare and +legs uncovered up to the knees. The men affect nothing except trunks +made from coffee sacks. The few real bathing-suits belong to such +experienced travellers as Nicklestick, Shine and the Blocks,--regular +and persistent patrons of the hotels at Atlantic City, Palm Beach and +Rockaway. They never travel without a full and complete equipment. Mr. +Nicklestick, very superior in his red two piece "costume," goes so +far as to contend that a man never should be without a bathing-suit, +because, says he, "it takes up no room in your trunk, and if you leave +it at home some one else is sure to stretch it so's you can't use it +yourself again." + +Olga Obosky and her three dancing-girls, Careni-Amori, and several +of the Brazilian ladies possess Ostend costumes in which they disport +themselves with complacent disregard for public opinion, favourable or +otherwise. + +"She's got 'em all skinned a mile," was Morris Shine's comment upon +Olga's lithe, graceful figure. "Ain't that so, Abey?" + +The remark was addressed to Abel Landover. + +"Even so," returned that gentleman, glaring at the offender, "it doesn't +give you the right to call me Abey. You've got to cut it out, Shine. +Understand?" + +"Sure," said the affable Morris. "Only I've got a brother named Abraham, +and that was my father's name too. It comes natural to me to--Why, by +gracious, she's got the Venus Belvedere lashed to the mast. Did you ever +see--" + +"I've never had the pleasure of seeing the Venus Belvedere," interrupted +Landover coldly. + +"You haven't?" exclaimed Morris, amazed. "The armless wonder? You ain't +seen her? Why, she's supposed to have the most perfect figger in the +world. Maybe you've seen her without knowing what her name is. They +never put the name on it, simply because every school boy and girl is +supposed to know who it is without being told. Funny you don't know--Oh, +she ain't alive, you know,--she ain't real. She's a statue,--thousands +of 'em turned out every year. Gee, the feller that designed that statue +must have cleaned up a pile. But, as I was saying, our little old Olga +has got her--Say, did you ever see a figger like that?" + +"Yes," broke in Landover shortly, "thousands of them." + +Mr. Shine looked sceptical. "Well," he said after a moment's reflection, +and with studied politeness,--having already offended at the outset, +"all I got to say is, you talk like a woman, that's all I got to say." + +Landover was a greatly changed man in these days. There had come a +crisis in the affairs of Trigger Island, not many weeks before the +second annual election in April, when he was obliged to show his true +colours. The banker suddenly realized with a shock that he was actually +involved in a well-organized, though secret plot to overthrow the +so-called "government." He had been completely deceived by the wily +Manuel Crust and several of his equally wily friends. They professed to +be organizing an opposition party to oust the dictatorial Percival and +his clique from office at the ensuing election,--a feat, they +admitted, that could be accomplished only by the most adroit and covert +"educational" campaign, "under the rose" perforce, but justifiable in +the circumstances. They had led Landover to believe that he was their +choice for governor. They went among the people, insidiously sowing the +seeds of discontent, hinting at the advantages to be obtained by the +election of an entirely new set of officers, mostly from among the +people themselves, but headed by the ablest man on the island,--Abel T. +Landover. They argued that as treasurer and comptroller of currency he +had shown himself to be the only man qualified to direct the affairs of +the people. + +And Landover believed them. Despite his superior intelligence and +his vaunted ability to size up his fellow man, he was as blind and +unsuspecting as a child when it came to penetrating the real motives +of the conspirators. Vain, self-important, possessed of an abnormal +conceit, men of his type go ahead ruthlessly, ignoring the details, bent +only on achieving the ultimate. In Landover's case, he made the fatal +error of underestimating the craftiness of Manuel Crust; he looked upon +him as a blatant, ignorant ruffian of the stripe best known to him as +a "beer saloon politician,"--and known only by hearsay, at that. He +regarded himself as the master-politician and Crust as a contemptible +necessity. + +As a matter of fact, Crust was using him to very materially advance his +own ends. The big Portuguese had a very definite purpose in mind. He had +no more intention of making Landover the chief man of the island than +he had of flying to the moon. He,--Manuel Crust,--was to have that +distinction! He despised Landover and all that he represented. He hated +him because he was rich, educated, favoured by fortune,--and given to +washing himself with unnecessary frequency and thoroughness. Manuel was +foul of body as well as foul at heart. He bitterly resented the sanitary +rules set up and enforced by the Council because those rules interfered +with what he was pleased to call his personal liberty. Why should he be +required to wash himself if he didn't want to do so? And why should he +do a great many silly things that Dr. Cullen ordered, just because a lot +of aristocrats were in the habit of doing them? + +His hatred of Landover, however, was impersonal. The banker merely +represented a class. On the other hand, he hated Percival as an +individual; he hated him with every drop of blood in his black, venomous +heart. He had a certain grudging regard,--it might even be called +respect,--for the class to which Landover belonged; he was sometimes +conscious of a strange but quite positive sense of his own inferiority. +But he did not for an instant put Percival in the class with Landover. +He looked upon the young American as being no better than himself, and +yet the people from the Doraine had showered honours upon him, had made +him their chief, had suffered him,--a vagabond without a penny to his +name,--to marry the fairest and rarest woman of them all. What right had +this interloper to everything that was worth having, while he, an honest +fellow who always had paid his way, was denied even the smallest place +in the councils of the land? What right had he, a tramp, to sit upon a +throne? + +Landover was an unwitting, but thoroughly self-satisfied dupe. He fitted +in very nicely with Manuel's plan to gain control of the island. There +were certain people who regarded the great banker as an apostle, a man +to follow, to be imitated,--such men as Block, Nicklestick and a few +others. Was he not one of the great financial geniuses of the day? Was +he not a power, a tremendous power, in the banking world? Was he not +a man who understood how to transform a dollar into a business block +almost over-night? For a time, sentiment had played tricks with their +boasted astuteness. Swept along by the current, they had failed to +appreciate the true conditions. They began to realize that it had been a +mistake to keep such men as Percival in power; behind the hand they +went about convincing each other that it was high time to rectify the +original error. These, in addition to the ignorant, easily persuaded +rabble from the steerage,--who, by the way, could give ample testimony +as to Percival's ability to "bluff,"--provided Crust with a decidedly +formidable following. The steerage people had but to be reminded of the +time when Percival tricked them so successfully. + +Crust contended that if the American could fool them once, he would do +so again,--in fact, he went so far as to say that he had been doing it +all the time. + +There was nothing open and above board about the methods of Manuel +Crust. He proceeded about the business of fomenting dissatisfaction and +strife with an artfulness surprising in one of his type. At no time did +he openly denounce the "government." He was very careful about that. +A jesting word here, a derisive smile there, a shrug of the +shoulders,--and in good time others less politic than himself began to +do the talking. Others began to complain of the high-handed, dictatorial +manner in which Percival and his friends ruled the community. + +The secret, stealthy opposition grew apace; it assumed sinister +proportions,--all the more sinister because it was masked by every +outward sign of submission. Crust had won friends right and left among +the very people who would have killed him not so many months before but +for the very man he was planning to destroy. + +Outwardly he had changed,--not subtly, it is true,--from a sullen, +threatening bully into a hearty, smiling, sympathetic comrade who laid +himself out to be obliging. Even Percival was puzzled, if not deceived, +by this surprising transformation. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +It was Olga Obosky who discovered and exposed the plot. A young Spaniard +had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with her. He was a good-looking, +hard-eyed boy from the pampas,--a herder who was on his way to visit his +mother in from Rio. He was a "gun-slinger" bearing close relationship to +the type of cowboy that existed in the old days of the Far West but who +is now extinct save for pictorial perpetuation on the moving-picture +screens. + +Down in his wild young heart smouldered a furious jealousy of Percival. +Crust played upon this jealousy to fine effect. He did not hesitate +to feed the flame with sly speculations, innuendos and even tales +concerning Percival and Olga. + +One day the Spaniard, in the midst of his violent protestations and +pleadings, became reckless with promises to Olga. He swore that if she +would have him he would make her the first lady of the land in place of +the stupid American girl who now held the honour. Then, having loosed +his tongue, he poured out the whole of the ugly scheme which was to +alter every existing condition on the island. The wiping out of the +dictator and his swell-headed gang of "intellectuals"; the seizure of +all firearms, ammunition and stores; the complete subjugation of the +people, even to the point of slavery; the elevation of Manuel Crust +and his followers to a state of absolute power; the confiscation of all +property,--including women! He naively advised her to jump at the chance +offered her,--the chance to avoid the most unpleasant feature of the new +regime. + +"As my woman," he said, "you will be safe. It is understood. It is all +arranged. If you belong to me, nothing can happen to you. We shall be +of the elect. I am to be of the council. I am to be one of the masters, +the--" + +"But," she cried, scarcely able to believe her ears, "how is all this to +be accomplished? How will the few overcome the many? You say there are +scarcely more than a dozen of you, my friend. What can a dozen men do +to--" + +"It will be simple," cried he, his eyes flaming. "How is it that +Percival and his little gang hold all of us in bondage? It is because +they have the guns, the revolvers, the bullets. Well, we shall have the +guns, and everything. When the time comes, when the people have voted +in the election and a new party is in control, then we will have our +chance. We will have the upper hand. To hell with the people, Olga. They +will count for nothing once we have charge of the guns and stores. This +Percival he has ordered the election. He insists that the people be +given a chance to vote once a year, to elect some one to take his place +if they feel like it. He says it is only fair. Faugh! He laughs in his +sleeve. Come! Your promise! I love you. I must have you for my woman. +I cannot live without you. I will give you power to spit in the face +of that woman down there--that American aristocrat! We will be rich, we +will be happy, we will have everything. Diamonds and pearls and rubies +and all the gold there is on this island. We will be the ones to go away +in the ship, and we will have jewels to shame the richest of them." + +"We--you and Manuel and the rest--are to go away in the ship?" she +cried, cold to the marrow of her bones. + +"Sure. Why not? Are we not to be the owners of that ship? It is your +chance to go back to the world again,--with me! Oh, and I agree to this +also: If you do not want me any longer after you are in Rio or Buenos +Aires or anywhere out there,--if you would rather be free again,--I +promise to release you. What could be fairer than that? Nothing! I shall +kill myself, of course, when you leave me,--but still I promise, and I +never break a promise. But I shall love you so much that you will never +leave me. You are my queen. Hell, how I love you--how I love you!" His +face darkened, then slowly paled. He realized that he had gone too far. +Leaning close to her, his frightened eyes not a foot from hers, he said: +"You cannot deny me now. I have told you everything. I do not know why +I have told you. I must be crazy with love of you. Ah,--the look in your +beautiful eyes! God, how it takes the weight off my mind. You will love +me,--you will be mine,--I see it in your eyes. When? When?" + +She affected a bantering smile. She knew how to play with such fools as +he. + +"Do you think I am a fool? How do I know you are not lying to me about +all this? It may be a trick to influence me. No, no! I am not such a +simpleton. You promise me diamonds, and gold, and much love. You promise +to take me away from this dreadful place on a ship, back to the world +I worship. But you may be lying. I must have something better than your +word, my friend." + +"But I am telling you the truth. I swear it!" he cried eagerly. + +"Keep your hands off of me,--do you hear! Don't touch me! Not yet, not +yet. I must have some proof that you can give me all these things you +offer. Will you have Manuel Crust guarantee that--" + +"My God,--Manuel,--he must not know I have spoken to you. He must never +know," he gasped. "Take my word,--believe me, beloved one. It is +the God's truth I tell you. Within the month I will lay diamonds, +pearls,--everything,--at your feet. I--" + +"Leave me now. Come again,--tomorrow. I must think. I must--" + +"But you will love me? You will come to me? You--" + +"You are a very handsome boy," she said softly, "and I should like to +believe you." + +He followed her for a few steps, trouble in his eyes. + +"It is not enough. I must have your promise," he said. + +She looked at him coldly. "You will have it when I am ready to give it," +she said, and his face lightened for a moment, only to darken again. + +"I will cut your heart out if you breathe a word of this to any one," he +whispered hoarsely. + +"Is that the way for a lover to speak?" she returned. + +"Yes," he said without hesitation. "It is the way,--with me." + +"Come to me tomorrow and tell me exactly what my share of the treasure +is to be,--and then I will let you know whether it is to be you--or +Manuel Crust, my friend. Oh, you see, I am greedy,--and I can love +Manuel quite as easily as I can love--" + +"I will cut his heart out if you--" + +"There--there! It will not be necessary. Come tomorrow." + +That same afternoon she went to Percival with the Spaniard's story. + +"Well, we'll nip that in the bud," said he, setting his jaw. "The first +thing to do is to warn Landover." + +"Warn Landover!" cried the Russian. "He is all mix up in it,--he is one +of ze ringleaders." + +"No, he isn't. He's not that kind of a man. He doesn't know a thing +about all this, I'll stake my life on it." + +"But, Olga," cried Ruth, white-faced and troubled; "Fernandez will kill +you. He will,--Good heaven, girl, did he not swear to cut your heart out +if you--" + +"Poof!" cried the other, snapping her fingers. "He will not do zat, +my dear. I am not afraid. Do you know what happens to informers in my +country? They vanish. No one ever sees them again, and no one ever asks +where they have gone. They are here today--tomorrow they are not. It is +the same the world over." + +"You mean,--Manuel's men will make way with him? How horrible!" + +"Do not waste your sympathy on zat Fernandez. He is no good. You would +see what kind of man he is if this plot should succeed." + +"But you will have to give him your answer tomorrow," cried Ruth. + +Olga shot a keen glance at Percival's face. + +"It is for you to say, Percivail, what my answer shall be," said she, +after, a slight pause. A queer pallor spread over her face. + +"For me to say?" he exclaimed. + +"Are you not the governor? If it suits your plans for me to give myself +to zat man--" + +"My God, Olga! What the devil are you driving at?" + +"--to satisfy him until you are prepared to nip zis revolution in the +bud, as you say,--I shall--" + +"Thunderation!" he gasped. "You mean you would sacrifice yourself--Great +Scot! What do you think I'm expecting to do? Go to sleep for a month or +so? Bless your heart, my dear Olga, if you are even thinking of getting +married to Fernandez, you'll have to be pretty spry about it. Because +I'm going to nip the business in the bud before tomorrow morning." + +"Zat is what I thought," said she, the colour rushing back to her face. + +That evening Percival called a meeting of the "cabinet,"--as the council +was now called. They were asked to come to his home, instead of to the +meetinghouse. This, of itself, was surprising. Landover had never set +foot inside the "governor's mansion." While his attitude toward the +"governor's lady" was studiedly courteous, he made no effort to resume +the intimate and friendly relationship that existed before her marriage +to his enemy. Contact with Percival was unavoidable. They met frequently +in "cabinet" conferences, but avoided each other at all other times. + +He came to this hastily called meeting, however, and Percival was the +only man present who was not dumbfounded. Sheriff Shay, in summoning the +members to this secret meeting, had delivered a message that Landover +could not well afford to ignore. + +Seventeen men were crowded into the little sitting-room of the house. +Each one of them bore a high-sounding title. There were present, besides +Percival, State Treasurer Landover, Chief Justice Malone, Minister of +War Platt, Minister of Marine Mott, Minister of Agriculture Pedro Drom, +State Clerk Flattner, Surgeon General Cullen, Lord High Sheriff Shay, +and the following members of the Executive Council: Snipe, Block, +Jones, Fitts, Knapendyke, Calkins, Ruiz' and Alvara. Ruiz was a Chilean +merchant and Alvara a Brazilian coffee grower. Calkins was an English +cattle buyer. + +Percival, with his customary abruptness, announced that there was a plot +on foot to destroy the present government and turn the island over to +the mercy of a gang of desperadoes headed by Manuel Crust. + +Landover was on his feet in an instant. + +"I am in a position, gentlemen, to declare that there is not a word of +truth in that statement. It is true there is a very definite movement on +foot to organize a new party to contest the election of many of us +who are gathered here tonight. The people want a change. They are +dissatisfied. They have a right to vote as they please, to choose their +own--" + +"We are not here to discuss the election, Mr. Landover," broke in +Percival. "Before we go any farther, however, I wish to state that if +you are chosen Governor of Trigger Island, you will find no one more +willing and ready to serve you than I. But, that is beside the question. +If you will listen to me, I will tell you exactly what it is that +confronts us. The election next month is to be the signal for all kinds +of hell. You may be elected governor, Mr. Landover,--but you will not be +allowed to serve. Now, here is the story that came to me today,--and I +can vouch for it. I am authorized,--in fact I am commanded to reveal to +you the name of my informant. You may be sure I did my best to +prevail upon her to remain unknown, for the present, at least, but she +threatened to go forth and shout her story from the housetops if I did +not do as she wished." + +The conference ended an hour later, and Abel Landover had shown his +true colours at last. He stood up, his face drawn and haggard, his eyes +ablaze, his voice husky, and addressed the group. + +"Gentlemen, I have been wrong. I am grateful to Mr. Percival for his +generosity in warning me of the danger into which I was rushing. We have +not been friends. He could have left me to my fate. I would not have +blamed him. He has played fair,--and I have not. I ask you all to +bear witness to that humiliating admission. I have argued here tonight +against all of you,--when down in my heart I had the sickening fear +that this damnable story is true. I now believe it to be true. I now see +through the whole devilish game. + +"I give you my word of honour as a gentleman and an American, I did not +realize the true conditions until tonight. Perhaps I might have found +out in time to upset their plans,--but that is doubtful. These men +are smart. They are natural born plotters. They are dark men with dark +souls. This fellow Fernandez has fooled me completely. He is a gay, +smiling boy, but now that I have heard Madame Obosky's account of him, I +recall many little traits in his make-up that go far to substantiate my +new opinion of him. I never quite understood till now why he hated you, +Percival. Frankly, I knew that he had it in his heart to kill you. Crust +has told me of his difficulty in keeping him from running a knife into +you. I thought it was all talk, boyish bravado,--but now I know he meant +it." + +He lifted his head and set his jaw. "Gentlemen, I have a shameful +confession to make. Ever since I can remember, my sole thought has been +to rule. I did not know what it was to take orders from another man +until I came to this island. My whole being has been in revolt. The +thought uppermost in my mind for two years has been to re-establish +myself as a dominating force. To that end, I have played pretty bad +politics. I have worked upon the credulity and cupidity of these men, +promising them positions of authority if I were chosen by vote to govern +the affairs of this island. But, I am sure you all will believe me +when I say that it was my purpose to administer those affairs honestly, +fairly and as capably as I knew how. I was not only deceived by these +men, but by myself as well. I have played, like a blundering fool, into +their hands. My chagrin is beyond words. I can only say to you now that +you may count upon my unfailing support in any action you may decide to +take. My forebears were honest, loyal, law-abiding Americans. I--I think +I may say without fear of contradiction that it is impossible for me to +run otherwise than true to form. + +"I lied, Percival, to Ruth Clinton about the encounter in my stateroom +on the Doraine. Believe me or not as you see fit, but I think that was +the only deliberate lie I have ever told in my life. I have done a great +many high-handed things, I have been inconsiderate of others, I have +crushed opposition in my own way, I have never allowed myself to +acknowledge defeat. My hand has been against you since the day you +appeared on the decks of the Doraine. It was not in my nature to see +good in you. To me, you were a good-for-nothing--Well, I'm glad to see +you smile! That is the devil with you,--your confounded smile. I ask you +to overlook what I have said, and done--and been, Percival,--and shake +hands. You have nothing to apologize for. There never has been a time +in all these months that I have not felt you to be a real man, an +honest one, and a gentleman. I think I know an honest man when I see +one,--indeed, it is my business to read men,--and I rarely make a +mistake." + +As the two men shook hands, Randolph Fitts remarked drily: + +"Seems to me I remember your saying something of the sort the first day +you ever laid eyes on A. A., Abel." + +"The trouble is," put in Soapy Shay sarcastically, "you don't know a +dishonest one when you see him, Bill." + +"Veil, let's get down to business," said Moses Block nervously. "Ve +must go slow and careful-like. If we show our hands too soon, they will +uprise and--veil, I don't know vat!" + +"Mr. Mott, what would you do if you got wind of a plot like this aboard +ship?" inquired Percival, his eyes narrowing. + +"I would have the whole gang in chains before morning. Then I'd give +'em a taste of the 'cat' at daybreak, and before noon I'd have the +ringleaders hanging from a yard-arm," said Andrew Mott, succinctly. + +"Oh, my gracious!" gulped Mr. Block. + +"Now, I'll tell you what would happen up in Copperhead Camp," said +Percival, darkly. "They would get a beautiful cow-hiding and then +sentenced to wear a ball and chain, day and night, for anywhere from six +months to two years,--depending largely on the process of regeneration. +My experience has been that six months is enough." + +"We wouldn't dare do that, A. A.," said Fitts. "You must not forget +public sentiment,--and public pity. I've got a better plan. How far out +is that little island off New Gibraltar, Platt?" + +"A quarter of a mile, I should say." + +"Well, if they're not satisfied with life and conditions here, let's +make 'em a present of a nice little island of their own. That's what +I've always advocated as the proper way to treat anarchists. Stick 'em +away on an island completely surrounded by sharks and let 'em run it to +suit themselves." + +"But there are no sharks in these waters," said Flattner. "They'd swim +over here some night and slit all our throats." + +"Not a chance. They hate water too much to have ever learned how to +swim. Now, here's the scheme. Round up as many of them as we're dead +sure about, row 'em out to the island, dump 'em with enough food and +water to last a week, supply them with tents and beds and tools, and let +'em build their own penitentiary. They'll have to do it or freeze next +winter. Once a week send food and drink out to them. The water is a +hundred fathoms deep between Trigger Island and that little green wart +out there on the face of the ocean. It will look like a million miles to +them. How does it strike you, gentlemen?" + +Off the precipitous western extremity of Trigger Island lies a tiny +scrap of tree-covered land. It is perhaps one hundred yards wide and +thrice as long. An exploring party had visited it shortly after the +wreck of the Doraine, but since then no one had set foot upon its +shores. Its steep slopes, densely wooded, viewed from afar, suggested a +mountain top sticking up out of the sea. By boat, skirting the coast, it +was a good ten miles distant from the town. + +Three men were seized that night and put through a rigid examination. +Early the next morning twelve more were taken, Manuel Crust among them. +Half of them, in their terror, "squealed." Crust himself was one of +these. Almost before the people of the town knew what was afoot, the +fifteen had been tried, convicted, and were on their way to the landing +where boats were waiting to take them and their belongings off into +exile. As for the conspirators themselves, the blow was so swift, so +sudden, that they were dazed. It was like a bolt out of a clear sky. + +Judge Malone sent them to "the Island" for indeterminate periods. At +stated intervals they were to be released, one by one, and restored +to citizenship. The shortest term of exile, however, was one year. The +releases were to be decided by lot, except in the case of three +men: Crust, Fernandez and an Irish sailor named Clark. They were the +ringleaders and they were to remain on "the Island" until the time came +for them to go aboard the relief ship with all the other citizens of +Trigger. At the end of the first year, and once a month thereafter for +twelve months, drawings were to be held, and the man whose name was +drawn would be released. + +"You are prisoners of state," said Judge Malone, in passing sentence. +"The state is obliged to feed you, and clothe you, and sustain you if +you fall ill, no matter how bitterly it goes against the grain. You will +not be obliged to work, or wash, or observe a single law. You may rob +each other to your hearts' content, you may murder each other with +perfect impunity, you may do just as you like. We started out to conduct +the affairs of this island along lines laid down by the Golden Rule. I +have come to the conclusion that the Golden Rule would be all right if +it were not for the human race. I am beginning to believe that the Rule +of Iron is the only one for the people of this earth to live under,--and +that is a pretty hard thing for an Irishman to say. You men ought to be +lined up against a wall and shot. We do not feel that we have the right +to take your lives. It is not in our hearts to destroy you, as you would +have destroyed us. But you may not dwell among us." + +Fernandez, wild with fury, shrieked vengeance upon the head of Olga +Obosky. Out of his ravings, the unsavoury crew gleaned enough to +convince them that he was responsible for their present unhappy plight. + +"You will pay for this, you snake!" he yelled, foaming at the mouth and +shaking his fist at her. "I will drink your heart's blood! Remember what +Joe Fernandez says. I will come back here and get you,--Oh, I will get +you,--and when I am through with you your dog of a lover may have what +is left. I will cut you to pieces! I swear it--I swear it! Hear my oath! +You double-crossed me! You squealed on me! I will come back, and I will +drink your heart's blood! I swear it!" + +He spat in her direction as he was dragged away with the rest of the +gang. Through his glittering, bloodshot eyes he saw the cool, derisive +sneer on her red lips. He had failed, however, to note the keen, +appraising look with which she searched the faces of his baffled, +glowering companions. In that long, tense look she had seen dawning +comprehension change to conviction; she had read his doom, so she +could, in perfect security, give him that scoffing, heartless smile to +take with him on the journey from which he was never to return. + +Fifteen men went out to "the Island" that afternoon. From that day, the +authorities provided weekly rations for that number of men. To this +day they are ignorant of the fact that there are but fourteen mouths to +feed. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +In the cool of a balmy January evening, following what had been the +hottest day the castaways had experienced since coming to Trigger +Island, a group of men and women sat upon the Governor's porch. There +was no moon, but the sky was speckled with millions of stars. + +Olga Obosky, sitting on the squared log that served as a step, leaned +back against the awning post, her legs stretched out in luxurious +abandon. She was fanning herself, and her breath came rapidly, +pantingly. Now and then she patted her moist face with a handkerchief. + +"How warm you are, Olga," said Ruth, who sat beside her. "And you must +be dreadfully tired." + +"I am hot, but I am not tired," replied the other. "I could dance all +night, my dear, without tiring. Did you really like the children, Ruth?" + +"They were lovely. You have done wonders with them." + +"Regular Isadora Duncan stuff," sighed Peter Snipe, drawing lazily at +his pipe. "Woodland nymphs, phantom pixies floating on the wind, zephyrs +in the guise of fairies, dreams come true,--my dear Olga, you are a +sorceress. You change clods into moonbeams, you turn human beings into +vapours, you cast the mantle of enchantment over the midsummer night, +and we see Oberon, Titania and all the rest of them disporting on the +breeze. And to think that only this afternoon I saw all of those gawky +girls working in the fields, their legs the colour of tan bark, with +sandals that looked like canal-boats, skirts made of hemp,--just regular +kids. And you transform them tonight into gleaming cloudlets to float +upon the ambient atmosphere--" + +"For heaven's sake, Pete, stop being an author and talk like a real +man," interrupted Fitts. "Can't you say, 'Gee, they was great, Olger'?" + +It was "Twelfth Night," and Olga's pupils had given a fairy dance on +the Green. To conclude the almost mystic entertainment, the great Obosky +herself had appeared in one of her most marvellous creations,--the +"Dance of the Caliph's Dream,"--the sensational, never-to-be-forgotten +dance that had been the talk of three continents. There was no spotlight +to follow her sinuous, scantily clad figure as it spun and leaped and +glided about the dim, starlit Green; there was no blare of brass and +cymbals, nor the haunting wail of flageolets,--only the tinkle of +mandolins and Spanish guitars to guide her bewildering feet,--and yet +she had never been so alluring. + +When it was all over,--when the charmed circle of faces had vanished +into the byways of the night,--she came and flung herself down upon +the steps of the Governor's mansion. She had wrapped her warm body in a +sheath of yellow velvet; the tips of her bare feet were exposed to the +grateful night air. Her uplifted eyes shone like the stars that looked +down into them; her lips were parted in a smile; her flesh quivered with +the physical ecstasy that comes only with supreme lassitude. + +"You never danced so beautifully in your life, Olga," said Careni-Amori. +"And after two years, too. I cannot understand. I shall never sing again +as I sang two years ago. But you,--ah, you dance even better. I take +courage from you. Perhaps my voice has not gone to seed as Joseppi's +has,--poor man. Not that it had very far to go,--but still it was second +only to Caruso's, and that is something. How can it be that you improve +with idleness, while I--while we go the other way?" + +"I shall never dance like zat again," replied Olga, her eyes clouding. + +"You speak as if it were your swan dance," cried Michael Malone. + +"Oh, I shall dance for ever," said she, "but never again like zat. You +would ask why not. I cannot tell you. I do not know. Only can I say I +shall never dance like zat again,--never." + +Ruth turned her head quickly to look at the woman beside her. Olga's +face gleamed white in the starlight. Her eyes were still searching the +speckled dome, and the smile had left her lips. + +"Don't say that, Olga," she whispered softly. "You will delight great +audiences again,--you will charm--" + +"Possibly," interrupted the other, lowering her voice, turning her eyes +upon Ruth, and smiling mysteriously. "Great audiences, yes,--but what +are they? I appeared tonight before an audience of one. I danced as I +have never danced before,--all for zat audience of one. Your husband, my +dear. He one time informs me he has never seen me dance. Well,--tonight +I dance for him. Now, he can say he have seen Obosky dance. He will +never forget zat he have seen Obosky dance." + +Ruth laughed, but it was a strained effort. "He was positively +enchanted, Olga," she said. Then she added: "But for goodness' sake, +don't ever let him know that you did it all for him. He will be so proud +and important that--" + +"Oh, he knows I danced for him," broke in the Russian calmly, in a most +matter-of-fact tone. + +"You--you told him?" + +"I did not have to tell him. He knew, without being told. La la, my +dear! Do not look so shocked. It is a habit I have. Always I dance for +one person in my audience. I pick him out,--sometimes it is a she,--and +zen I try only to please zat one person. I make him to feel he is the +one I am dancing for, zat he is all alone in the great big hall,--all +alone with me. Maybe he is in the gallery, looking down; maybe he is in +a box, or standing up at the back of the house,--no matter where he is, +I pick him out and so I think of no one else all ze time I dance." + +"And, by the same token, he is powerless to think of any one else. I +see. No wonder you charm them out of their boots." + +"And all the rest of his life he will remember that I danced for him +alone, zat man. As for me,--poof! I would not recognize him again if he +came to see me a thousand nights in succession. Once I saw a very tiny +boy in the stalls. He was with his mother and father. I danced for zat +child of six. When he is a very, very old man he will look back over +the years and see me dancing still,--always the same whirling, dazzling +thing that filled his little eyes and soul with wonder. So! Percivail +has seen me at my best. He will tell his grandchildren how wonderful +Obosky was,--and he will think of her to his dying day as something +beautiful, not something vile." + +"Oh, Olga!" + +"You see, my dear," said the other, composedly, "I wanted to make a good +impression on zat virtuous husband of jours. Now he will think of me as +the artist, not as the woman. It is much better so, is it not?" + +"Sometimes you say things that cause me to wonder why I don't hate you, +Olga Obosky," cried Ruth under her breath. + +Olga laughed softly. "I repeat zat Golden Rule to myself every night and +every morning, Ruthkin," said she, somewhat cryptically. Then they were +silent. + +Conversation on the porch behind them lagged and finally ceased +altogether. The soft swish of fans was the only sound to disturb the +tranquil stillness. + +"Nineteen-twenty," fell dreamily from the lips of Randolph Fitts's wife. +"I used to think of Nineteen-twenty as being so far in the future that +I would be an old, old woman when I came to it. And here it is,--I am +living in it,--and I am not old." + +"Presidential year," said Michael Malone, as he struck a match to +relight the pipe that had gone out. "Doesn't take them long to slip +around, does it? Seems only last week that I voted for Wilson. I wonder +if he'll be running again." + +"Sure! And if he can keep us in the war as long as he kept us out of +it," said Peter Snipe, "we'll have to elect him again." + +"I'd give a lot to know whether we've got the Germans licked or not," +mused Fitts. "We've had nearly three years to do it in." + +"Depends entirely on the navy," said Platt, Minister of Marine, late of +the U. S. Navy. + +"What can the navy do if the Germans will not come out?" demanded +Landover. + +"Why, confound it all, the navy can go in, can't it?" + +"The British Navy hasn't," was Landover's reply. + +"What's the use of speculating about the war?" said Percival, as he +threw himself on the grass at Ruth's feet. "Either it's over or it +isn't, and here we sit absolutely in the dark. They might as well be +fighting on Mars as over in Europe, so far as we are concerned. For +God's sake, let's not even think about the war. We'll all go crazy if we +do." + +"You're right," said Fitts, gloomily. + +"In any case," said Malone, "Trigger Island has done all that any +self-respecting government can do. She has declared war on Germany. We +have nothing to be ashamed of. Still, I'd feel better if we could fire a +few shots at the dirty blackguards." + +"The war is over," said Olga, staring up at the stars. "The Germans are +beaten. I have said so for many months, have I not?" + +"You have," agreed Malone. "But I don't see that you have anything on +the Kaiser. He said it was over in 1914." + +"'Don't argue with him, Olga," said young Mrs. Malone. "He's Irish." + +"Like all Irishers he's longing for something he'll never get," said +Fitts, drily. + +"And what is that?" inquired Mrs. Malone. + +"Home-rule," said Fitts. + +Olga Obosky yawned luxuriously. "I am so sleepy. My sandals, Governor +Percivail. I am going home." + +He picked up the sandals lying on the grass beside him and held them out +to her. She coolly extended one of her feet. + +"It cannot bite you. Put zem on for me, your Excellency." + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +He knelt and, slipping the sandals on one after the other, fastened the +straps over her bare insteps. + +"So," she sighed. "Thank you. Good night, Ruthkin. No! I shall go home +alone. There is nothing to be afraid of now on zis island, my dear. The +ardent Fernandez is playing--what you call it?--pea-knuckles?--he is +playing pea-knuckles away off yonder on zat prison island, as he has +been playing for nearly a year." + +Little she knew of Fernandez! + +Ruth and Percival walked around the corner of the porch with her, out of +sight of the others. + +"It was a perfectly ravishing dance, Olga," said he. "If I live a +thousand years I shall never forget how beautiful it was." + +"You see?" cried Olga softly, pressing Ruth's hand. "Was I not right?" + +"Men are very queer things," said Ruth, with a curious sidelong glance +at her husband. Then she squeezed his arm tightly and went on with +a little thrill in her voice: "Good night, Olga. Thank you for the +lesson." + +"What's all this?" inquired Percival. + +"Nothing you would be interested in, my friend," said Olga, with a +little laugh. She waved her hand airily as she moved swiftly away in the +gloom. + +They watched her yellow figure fade into the starlit shadows. As they +turned to rejoin the others, Ruth said: + +"I think you might have told her how beautiful she was, dear." So much +for the native perversity of woman, even when she is most content. + +He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon the soft, warm +palm. It was a habit of his,--and she never failed to shiver in response +to the exquisite thrill. She drew a deep breath, and leaned a little +closer to him. + +"Look up yonder, sweetheart," he whispered. "Do you see the one star in +all the heavens that shines the brightest? It is the only one I see when +I raise my eyes. The big, full star in the Southern Cross. The others +are dim, feeble little things preening themselves in reflected glory. +That great, beautiful star at the foot of the Cross is all that I can +see. It's no use for me to look elsewhere. That star fills my vision. +Its splendour fascinates me." + +She waited for him to go on. Her eyes were shining. But the analogy was +complete. She laid her cheek against his and sighed tremulously. After a +moment, they turned their heads and their lips met in a long, passionate +kiss. + +"I should be content to stay on this dear little island for ever, +sweetheart," she murmured. "My whole world is here." + +He stroked her hair lovingly, and was silent for a long time. Then he +smiled his whimsical smile. + +"It's all right for you and me, dear,--but how about the future +President of the United States sleeping up there in his crib?" + +She smiled up into his eyes. "It's a nuisance, isn't it?--having to stop +and consider that we are parents as well as lovers." + +They rejoined the group on the porch. + +"I had a horrible dream last night," said Peter Snipe, getting up and +stretching himself. "That's why I'm staying up so late tonight. I hate +to go to bed." + +"What was your dream, Peter?" asked Ruth. + +"Do you believe in 'em?" + +"Only in day-dreams." + +"Well, I dreamed our little old ship was finished and had sailed at last +and for once our wireless plant up there began to get messages from the +sea. I dreamed I was sitting up there with the operator. It was a dark, +stormy night. The wireless began to crackle. He jumped up to see what +was coming. He was getting messages from our own ship, away out there +on the ocean. She was calling for help. 'Sinking fast,--sinking +fast,--sinking fast.' Over and over again,--just those two words. +'Gad,--it was so real, so terribly real, that the first thing I did this +morning was to walk down to see if the boat was still on the stocks. She +was there, a long way from being finished, and--and, by gad, I had hard +work to keep from blubbering, I was so relieved." + +"It will take more than a dream to knock that ship to pieces," said +Percival. "When she's ready for the water, there will not be a sturdier +craft afloat. Andrew Mott says she'll weather anything outside of the +China Sea. Don't look so distressed, Amy. Pete's a novelist. They never +do anything but dream horrible dreams. Generally they go so far as +to put them into print, and people read 'em and say they are wildly +improbable,--especially if they have a happy ending. It's always the +happy ending that makes them improbable,--but popular. Isn't that so, +Pete?" + +"If we didn't give them a happy ending, they would refuse to recognize +us the next time they saw us on a bookseller's counter," said Peter. +"Well, I guess I'll be on my way. I've got a busy day tomorrow, setting +up the Trigger Island Pioneer,--and as I belong to that almost extinct +species known as the bachelor, I am forced to be my own alarm clock. +Going my way, Abel?" + +"Good night, Ruth," said Landover. "Give the Lieutenant Governor a good +smack for me,--and tell him he is still in my will." + +"Umph!" grunted Fitts. "I'd like to know what you've got to leave the +little beggar. Your letter of credit?" + +"Certainly not," replied Landover. "Something worth while, Fittsy, my +boy. I am making it now. It's going to be a hobby-horse, if I live long +enough to finish it. Good night, Perce. 'Night, everybody." + +When the last of the company had departed, Ruth and Percival stood for +a long time in silence, listening to the far-off thrumming of a Spanish +guitar, their tranquil gaze fixed on the murky shadow that marked the +line of trees along the shore, her head resting lightly against his +shoulder, his arm about her waist. + +"What are you thinking of, dear?" she asked at last. + +"Peter's dream," he replied. "It has put an idea into my head. The day +that ship down there sails out to sea with her courageous little crew, I +shall start laying the keel for another just like her." + +Neither spoke for many seconds. Then she said, a deep, solemn note in +her voice: "I understand, Perce." + +They went into the house. Later they stole tiptoe to the side of the +crib where slept the sturdy, sun-kissed babe. The two middle fingers of +a chubby hand were in his mouth. With one hand Percival shaded the +pitch candle he had brought from the kitchen. She leaned over and gently +touched the smooth, warm cheek. + +"I--I can't believe he is real, Perce," she whispered. + +"He isn't," whispered he. "He is something out of a fairy story. Nothing +as wonderful as he is can possibly be real." + +THE END + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's West Wind Drift, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEST WIND DRIFT *** + +***** This file should be named 6014.txt or 6014.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/6014/ + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: West Wind Drift + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6014] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 16, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, WEST WIND DRIFT *** + + + + +Carrie Fellman + + + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +By George Barr McCutcheon + + + + + + +WEST WIND DRIFT + + + + + +On a bright, still morning in October, the Doraine sailed from a +South American port and turned her glistening nose to the northeast. +All told, there were some seven hundred and fifty souls on board; +and there were stores that filled her holds from end to end,--grain, +foodstuffs, metals, chemicals, rubber and certain sinister things +of war. Her passenger list contained the names of men who had +achieved distinction in world affairs,--in finance, in business, +in diplomacy, in war, besides that less subtle pursuit, adventure: +men from both hemispheres, from all continents. It was a cosmopolitan +company that sailed out to sea that placid day, bound for a port +six thousand miles away. + +Her departure, heavy-laden, from this South American port was +properly recorded in the then secret annals of a great nation; the +world at large, however, was none the wiser. For those were the +days when sly undersea monsters of German descent were prowling +about the oceans, taking toll of humanity and breeding the curse +that was to abide with their progenitors forever. + +Down through the estuary and into the spreading bay slid the +big steamer; abreast the curving coast-line she drove her way for +leagues and leagues, and then swept boldly into the vast Atlantic +desert. + +Four hundred years ago and more, Amerigo Vespucci had sailed this +unknown southern sea in his doughty caravel; he had wallowed and +rocked for months over a course that the Doraine was asked to cover +in the wink of an eye by comparison. Up from the south he had come +in an age when the seas he sailed were no less strange than the +land he touched from time to time; the blue waste of sky and sea as +boundless then as now; the west wind drift as sure and unfailing; +the waves as savage or as mild; the star by which he laid his course +as far away and immutable,--but he came in 1501 and his ship was +alone in the trackless ocean. + +The mighty Doraine was not alone; she sailed a sea whose every +foot was charted, whose every depth was sounded. She sailed in an +age of Titans, while the caravel was a frolicksome pygmy, dancing +to the music of a thousand winds, buffeted today, becalmed tomorrow, +but always a snail on the face of the waters. Four hundred years +ago Vespucci and his men were lost in the wilderness of waves. Out +of touch with the world were they for months,--aye, even years,--and +no man knew whither they sailed nor whence they came, for those +were the days when the seven seas kept their secrets better than +they keep them now. + +Into the path traversed by the lowly caravel steamed the towering +Doraine, pointing her gleaming nose to the north and east. + +She was never seen again. + +Out from the lairs of the great American navy sped the swiftest +hounds of the ocean. They swept the face of the waters with a +thousand sleepless eyes; they called with the strange, mysterious +voice that carries a thousand miles; they raked the sea as with +a fine-tooth comb; they searched the coast of a continent; they +penetrated its rivers, circled its islands, scanned its rocks and +reefs,--and asked a single question that had but one reply from +every ship that sailed the southern sea. + +For months ships of all nations searched for the missing steamer. +Not so much as the smallest piece of wreckage rewarded the ceaseless +quest. The great vessel, with all its precious cargo, had slipped +into its niche among the profoundest mysteries of the sea. Came the +day, therefore, when the Secretary of the Navy wrote down against +her name the ugly sentence: "Lost with all on board." + +Maritime courts issued their decrees; legatees parcelled estates, +great and small; insurance companies paid in hard cash for the +lives that were lost, and went blandly about their business; more +than one widow reconsidered her thoughts of self-denial; and ships +again sailed the course of Amerigo Vespucci without a thought of +the Doraine. + +For months the newspapers in many lands speculated on the fate of +the missing liner. That a great ship could disappear from the face +of the waters in these supreme days of navigation without leaving +so much as a trace behind was inconceivable. At first there were +tales of the dastardly U-boats; then came the sinister reports of +treachery on board resulting in the ship being taken over by German +plotters, with the prediction that she would emerge from oblivion +as a well-armed "raider" cruising in the North Atlantic; then the +generally accepted theory that she had been swiftlv, suddenly rent +asunder by a mighty explosion in her hold. All opinions, all theories, +all conjectures, however, revolved about a single fear;--that she +was the victim of a German plot. But in the course of events there +came a day when the German Navy, ever boastful of its ignoble deeds, +issued the positive and no doubt sincere declaration that it had +no record of the sinking of the Doraine. The fate of the ship was +as much of a mystery to the German admiralty as it was to the rest +of the puzzled world. + +And so it was that the Doraine, laden with nearly a thousand souls, +sailed out into the broad Atlantic and was never heard from again. + + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + + + +The Captain of the liner was an old man. He had sailed the seas for +two-score years, at least half of them as master. At the outbreak +of the Great War he was given command of the Doraine, relieving +a younger man for more drastic duty in the North Sea. He was an +Englishman, and his name, Weatherby Trigger, may be quite readily +located on the list of retired naval officers in the British +Admiralty offices if one cares to go to the trouble to look it up. + +After two years the Doraine, with certain other vessels involved +in a well-known and somewhat thoroughly debated transaction, became +to all intents and purposes the property of the United States of +America; she flew the American flag, carried an American guncrew +and American papers, and, with some difficulty, an English master. +The Captain was making his last voyage as master of the ship. An +American captain was to succeed him as soon as the Doraine reached +its destination in the United States. Captain Trigger, a little +past seventy, had sailed for nearly two years under the Amercan +flag at a time when all Englishmen were looking askance at it and +wondering if it was ever to take its proper place among the righteous +banners of the world. It had taken its place among them, and the +"old man" was happy. + +His crew of one hundred and fifty was what might be aptly described +as international. The few Englishmen he had on board were noticeably +unfit for active duty in the war zone. There was a small contingent +of Americans, a great many Portuguese, some Spaniards, Norwegians, +and a more or less polyglot remainder without national classification. + +His First Officer was a Scotch-American, the Second an Irish-American, +the Chief Engineer a plain unhyphenated American from Baltimore, +Maryland. The purser, Mr. Codge, was still an Englishman, although +he had lived in the United States since he was two years old,--a +matter of forty-seven years and three months, if we are to believe +Mr. Codge, who seemed rather proud of the fact that his father had +neglected to forswear allegiance to Queen Victoria, leaving it to +his son to follow his example in the case of King Edward the Seventh +and of King George the Fifth. + +There were eighty-one first-cabin passengers, one hundred and nineteen +in the second cabin,--for the two had not been consolidated on the +Doraine as was the case with the harried trans-Atlantic liners,--and +approximately three hundred and fifty in the steerage. The first +and second cabin lists represented many races, South Americans +predominating. + +The great republics in the lower half of the hemisphere were cut +off almost entirely from the Old World so far as general travel was +concerned. The people of Argentine, Brazil and Chili turned their +eyes from the east and looked to the north, where lay the hitherto +ignored and sometime hated continent whose middle usurped the word +American. A sea voyage in these parlous days meant but one thing +to the people of South America: a visit to an unsentimental land +whose traditions, if any were cherished at all, went back no farther +than yesterday and were to be succeeded by fresh ones tomorrow. At +least, such was the belief of the Latin who still dozed superciliously +in the glory of his long-dead ancestors. Not having Paris, or London, +or Madrid, or Rome as the Mecca of his dreams, his pilgrimage now +carried him to the infidel realities of the North,--to Washington, +New York, New Orleans, Newport and Atlantic City! He had the money +for travel, so why stay at home? He had the money to waste, so why +not dissipate? He had the thirst for sin, so why famish? + +There were lovely women on board, and children with and without the +golden spoon; there were men whose names were known on both sides +of the Atlantic and whose reputations for integrity, sagacity, +intellect, and,--it must be confessed,--corruptness, (with the +author's apology for the inclusion); doughty but dogmatic university +men who had penetrated the wildernesses as naturalists, entomologists, +mineralogists, archaeologists, explorers; sportsmen who had forsaken +the lion, rhinoceros, hartebeest and elephant of Africa for the +jaguar, cougar, armadillo and anteater of South America; soldiers +of fortune whose gods had lured them into the comparative safety +of South American revolutions; miners, stock buyers and raisers, +profiteersmen, diplomats, priests, preachers, gamblers, smugglers +and thieves; others who had gone out for the Allies to buy horses, +beeves, grain, metal, chemicals, manganese and men; financiers, +merchants, lawyers, writers, musicians, doctors, dentists, +architects; gentiles and Jews, Protestants and Catholics, skeptics +and infidels,--in short, good men, bad men, beggar men, thieves. + +The world will readily recall such names and personalities as +these: Abel T. Landover, the great New York banker; Peter Snipe, +the novelist; Solomon Nicklestick, the junior member in the firm of +Winkelwein & Nicklestick, importers of hides, etc., Ninth Avenue, +New York; Moses Block, importer of rubber; James January Jones, of +San Francisco, promoter and financier; Randolph Fitts, of Boston, +the well-known architect; Percy Knapendyke, the celebrated naturalist; +Michael O'Malley Malone, of the law firm of Eads, Blixton, Solomon, +Carlson, Vecchiavalli, Revitsky, Perkins & Malone, New York; William +Spinney, of the Chicago Police force, (and his prisoner, "Soapy" +Shay, diamond thief); Denby Flattner, the taxidermist; Morris Shine, +the motion picture magnate; Madame Careni-Amori, soprano from the +Royal Opera, Rome; Signer Joseppi, the new tenor, described as +the logical successor to the great Caruso; Madame Obosky and three +lesser figures in the Russian Ballet, who were coming to the United +States to head a long-heralded tour, "by special arrangement with +the Czar"; Buck Chizler, the famous jockey,--and so on. + +These were the names most conspicuously displayed by the newspapers +during the anxious, watchful days and weeks that succeeded the +sailing of the Doraine from the port in the Tropic of Capricorn. + +Dozens of cities in the United States were represented by one or more +persons on board the Doraine, travellers of both sexes who, being +denied the privilege of a customary dash to Europe for the annual +holiday, resolved not to be deprived of their right to wander, nor +the right to return when they felt inclined. Whilom, defiant rovers +in search of change, they scoffed at conditions and went their way +regardless of the peril that stalked the seas. In the main they +were money-spending, time-dragging charges against the resources +of a harassed, bewildered government, claiming protection in return +for arrogance. + +Far to the south, off the Falkland Islands, at the bottom of the +sea, lay the battered hulls of what ware supposed to be the last +of the German fighting-ships in South Atlantic waters. Report had +it, however, that several well-armed cruisers had either escaped +the hurricane of shells from the British warships, or had been +detached from the squadron before the encounter took place. In any +event, no vessel left a South American port without maintaining a +sharp lookout for prowling survivors of the vanquished fleet, and +no passenger went aboard who did not experience the thrill of a +hazardous undertaking. The ever-present and ever-ready individual +with official information from sources that could not be questioned, +travelled with remarkable regularity on each and every craft that +ventured out upon the Hun-infested waters. In the smoke-room the +invariable word went round that raiders were sinking everything +in sight. Every ship that sailed had on board at least one +individual who claimed to have been chased on a former voyage by +a blockade-breaker,--(according to the most reliable reports, the +Germans were slipping warships through the vaunted British net +with the most astounding ease and frequency,)--and there was no one +with the hardihood or desire to question his veracity; indeed, it +was something of a joy to believe him, for was he not a living and +potential document to prove that the merchant marine could outwit, +outrace and outshoot the German pirates? + +The Doraine was barely twenty-four hours out from port and ploughing +along steadily through a choppy sea when Mr. Mott, the First Officer, +reported to Captain Trigger that a stowaway had been found on board. + +"German?" inquired Captain Trigger tersely. + +"No, sir. At least, he doesn't look it and, what's more, he doesn't +act it. Claims to be American born and bred." + +"That's what a great many Germans are claiming these days, Mr. +Mott. We can't take any chances, you know. Where was he found?" + +Mr. Mott cleared his throat. "Ahem! He wasn't what you might call +found, sir. As a matter of fact, he applied in person to the Chief +Engineer about half an hour ago and asked for a job. He said he +was perfectly willing to work out his passage home. Mr. Gray had +him conducted to me, sir,--rather sharply guarded, of course,--and +he--" + +"Fetch him here at once, Mr. Mott," commanded Captain Trigger. +"I'll hear what he has to say first hand." + +"Very well, sir." Mr. Mott started away, hesitated, rubbed his chin +dubiously, and then came back. "He's having a bit of breakfast, +sir, and has asked for the loan of Mr. Codge's razors--" + +"What?" roared the captain. + +"I informed him he would have to appear before you at once, sir, +and he said he was quite willing to do so, but would it be possible +for him to tidy up a bit beforehand. I am obliged to confess, sir, +that I have never encountered a more interesting stowaway in all my +career, which leads me to confess still further that I gave orders +to feed him,--he hasn't had a mouthful to eat since we left port, +owing to the fact, he says, that his luggage shifted the first +day out and try as he would he couldn't locate it without a match, +or something to that effect,--he rather stumped me, sir, with the +graceful way he lies,--and then Mr. Codge agreed to let him take +one of his razors, and when I left him below, sir, it seemed quite +certain that Mr. Gray was on the point of lending him a shirt and +a change of underwear. I--" + +"Good God, sir!" gasped Captain Trigger, with something more than +emotion in his voice. "What is this you are telling me?" + +"He seems a most likeable chap," explained Mr. Mott lamely. "Quite +a courteous fellow, too, sir. I forgot to mention that he sent +his compliments to you and asks for an interview at your earliest +conven--" + +"Asked for an interview? Drag him here at once--by the heels, if +necessary. Tell him I shan't keep him waiting an instant," said +the captain ironically. + +Mr. Mott still hesitated. "In the event, sir, that he is in the +midst of shaving--" + +"I don't care a hang what he's in the midst of," exclaimed Captain +Trigger. "Even in the midst of changing shirts. Present my compliments +to him, Mr. Mott, and say that he needn't dress up on my account. +I am an old-fashioned sailor-man. It is nothing new to me to see +men who haven't shaved in a fortnight, and others who never change +shirts." + +"Very well, sir," said Mr. Mott, and departed. + +Presently he reappeared with the stowaway in charge. + +Captain Trigger beheld a well set-up young man of medium height, +with freshly shaven chin and jaws, carefully brushed hair, spotless +white shirt and collar, and,--revealed in a quick glance,--recently +scrubbed hands. His brown Norfolk jacket was open, and he carried +a brand new, though somewhat shapeless pan-ama hat in his hand. +Evidently he had ceased fanning himself with it at the moment of +entering the captain's presence. The keen, good-looking face was +warm and moist as the result of a most violent soaping. He wore +corduroy riding-breeches, cavalry boots that betrayed their age in +spite of a late polishing at the hands of an energetic and carefully +directed bootblack, and a broad leather belt from which only half +an eye was required to see that a holster had been detached with a +becoming regard for neatness. His hair was thick and sun-bleached; +his eyes, dark and unafraid, met the stern gaze of the captain +with directness and respect; his lips and chin were firm in repose, +but they might easily be the opposite if relaxed; his skin was so +tanned and wind-bitten that the whites of his eyes were startlingly +defined and vivid. He was not a tall man,--indeed, one would have +been justified in suspecting him of being taller than he really +was because of the more or less deceiving erectness with which he +carried himself. As a matter of fact, he was not more than five +feet ten or ten and a half. + +Captain Trigger eyed him narrowly for a moment. + +"What is your name?" + +"A. A. Percival, sir." + +"Your full name, young man. No initials." + +The stowaway seemed to add an inch to his height before replying. + +"Algernon Adonis Percival, sir," he said, a very clear note of +defiance in his voice. + +The Captain looked at the First Officer, and the First Officer, +after a brief stare at the speaker, looked at the Captain. + +"It's his right name, you can bet, sir," said Mr. Mott, with conviction. +"Nobody would voluntarily give himself a name like that." + +"You never can tell about these Americans, Mr. Mott," said the +Captain warily. "They've got what they call a keen sense of humour, +you know." + +Mr. Percival smiled. His teeth were very white and even. + +"I am a first and only child," he explained. "That ought to account +for it, sir," he went on, a trifle defensively. + +Captain Trigger did not smile. Mr. Mott, however, looked distinctly +sympathetic. + +"You say you are an American,--a citizen of the United States?" +demanded the former. + +"Yes, sir. My home is in Baltimore." + +"Baltimore?" repeated Mr. Mott quickly. "That's where Mr. Gray hails +from, sir," he added, as a sort of apology to the Captain for the +exclamation. + +The Captain's gaze settled on the stowaway's spotless white shirt +and collar. Then he nodded his head slowly. + +"Mr. Gray is the Chief Engineer," he explained, with mock courtesy. + +"Yes, sir,--I know," responded Percival. "He comes of one of the +oldest and most highly connected families in Baltimore. He informs +me that his father--" + +"Never mind!" snapped the Captain. "We need not discuss Mr. Gray's +antecedents. How old are you?" + +"Thirty last Friday, sir." + +"Married?" + +"No, sir." + +"Parents living?" + +"No, sir." + +"And now, what the devil do you mean by sneaking aboard this ship +and hiding yourself in the--by the way, Mr. Mott, where was he +hiding?" + +Mr. Mott: "It doesn't seem to be quite clear as yet, sir." + +Captain Trigger: "What's that?" + +Mr. Mott: "I say, it isn't quite clear. We have only his word for +it. You see, he wasn't discovered until he accosted Mr. Shannon on +the bridge and asked--" + +Captain Trigger: "On the bridge, Mr. Mott?" + +Mr. Mott: "That is to say, sir, Mr. Shannon was on the bridge and +he was below on the promenade deck. He asked Mr. Shannon if he was +the Captain of the boat." + +Captain Trigger: "He did, eh? Well?" + +Mr, Mott: "He was informed that you were at breakfast, sir,--no +one suspecting him of being a stowaway, of course,--and then, it +appears, he started out to look for you. That's how he fell in with +the Chief Engineer. Mr. Gray informs me that he applied for work, +admitting that he was aboard without leave, or passage, or funds, +or anything else, it would seem. But, as for where he lay in hiding, +there hasn't been anything definite arrived at as yet, sir. He +seems to have been hiding in a rather wide-spread sort of way." + +Mr. Percival, amiably: "Permit me to explain, Captain Trigger. +You see, I have been obliged to change staterooms three times. +Naturally, that might be expected to create some little confusion +in my mind. I began in the second cabin. Much to my surprise and +chagrin I found, too late, that the stateroom I had chosen,--at +random, I may say,--was merely in the state of being prepared for +a lady and gentleman who had asked to be transferred from a less +desirable one. I had some difficulty in getting out of it without +attracting attention. I don't know what I should have done if the +steward hadn't informed them that he could not move their steamer-trunk +until morning. There wouldn't have been room for both of us under +the berth, sir. If the gentleman had been alone I shouldn't have +minded in the least remaining, under his berth, but he--" + +Captain Trigger: "How did you happen to get into that room, young +man? The doors are never unlocked when the rooms are unoccupied." + +Mr. Percival: "You are mistaken, sir. I found at least three stateroom +doors unlocked that night, and my search was by no means extensive." + +Captain Trigger: "This is most extraordinary, Mr. Mott,--if true." + +Mr. Mott: "It shall be looked into, sir." + +Captain Trigger: "Go on, young man." + +Mr. Percival: "I tried another room in the second cabin, but had +to abandon it also. It had no regular occupant,--it was Number 221 +remember,--but along about midnight two men opened the door with +a key and came in. They were stewards. I gathered that they were +getting the room ready for someone else, so when they departed,--very +quietly, sir,--I sneaked out and decided to try for accommodations +in the first cabin. I--" + +Mr. Mott: "Did you say stewards?" + +Mr. Percival: "That's what I took them to be." + +Captain Trigger: "You are either lying, young man, or plumb crazy." + +Mr. Percival, with dignity: "The latter is quite possible, +Captain,--but not the former. I managed quite easily to get from +the second cabin to the first. You'd be surprised to know how simple +it was. Running without lights as you do, sir, simplified things +tremendously. I found a very sick and dejected Jewish gentleman +trying to die in the least exposed corner of the promenade deck. +At least, he said he didn't want to live. I offered to put him to +bed and to sit up with him all night if it would make him feel a +little less like passing away. He lurched at the chance. I accompanied +him to his stateroom, and so got a few much-needed hours of repose, +despite his groans. I also ate his breakfast for him. Skirmishing +around this morning, I found there were no unoccupied rooms in the +first cabin, so I decided that we were far enough from land for +me to reveal myself to the officer of the day,--if that's what you +call 'em on board ship,--with a very honest and laudable desire +to work my passage home. I can only add, Captain, that I am ready +and willing to do anything from swabbing floors on the upper deck +to passing coal at the bottom of the ship." + +Captain Trigger stared hard at the young man, a puzzled expression +in his eyes. + +"You appear to be a gentleman," he said at last. "Why are you on +board this ship as a stowaway? Don't you know that I can put you +in irons, confine you to the brig, and put you ashore at the first +port of call?" + +"Certainly, sir. That's just what I am trying to avoid. As a +gentleman, I am prepared to do everything in my power to relieve +you of what must seem a most painful official duty." + +Mr. Mott smiled. The Captain stiffened perceptibly. + +"How did you come aboard this ship?" he demanded. + +"As a coal passer, sir. Day before yesterday, when you were getting +in the last lot of coal. I had a single five dollar gold piece in +my pocket. It did the trick. With that seemingly insignificant +remnant of a comfortable little fortune, I induced one of the +native coal carriers,--a Portuguese nobleman, I shall always call +him,--to part with his trousers, shirt and hat. I slipped 'em on +over my own clothes, stuffed my boots and socks inside my shirt, +picked up his basket of coal, and walked aboard. It isn't necessary, +I suppose, to state that my career as a dock-hand ceased with that +solitary basket of coal, or that having once put foot aboard the +Doraine, I was in a position to book myself as a passenger." + +"Well, I'm damned!" said Captain Trigger. "Some one shall pay for +this carelessness, Mr. Mott. I've never heard of anything so cool. +What did you say your name is, young man?" + +"A. A. Percival, sir." + +"Ah--ahem! I see. Will it offend you, A. A., if I make so bold +as to inquire why the devil you neglected to book your passage in +the regular way, as any gentleman from Baltimore might have been +expected to do, and where is your passport, your certificate of +health, your purse and your discharge from prison?" + +Mr. Percival spread out his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + +"Would you be interested in my story, Captain Trigger? It is +brief, but edifying. When I arrived in town, the evening before +you were to sail, I had a wallet well-filled with gold, currency, +and so forth. I had travelled nearly two thousand miles,--from the +foothills of the Andes, to be more definite,--and I had my papers, +my cancelled contract, and a clear right-of-way, so to speak. My +personal belongings were supposed to have arrived in town on the +train with me. A couple of cow-hide trunks, in fact. Well, they +didn't arrive. I don't know what became of them. I had no time to +investigate. This was the last boat I could get for two or three +weeks that would land me in the U. S. A. I put up at the Alcazar +Grand for the night. It was then too late to secure passage, but +I fully intended to do so the first thing in the morning. There +was a concert and dance at the hotel that night, and I went in to +look on for awhile. I ran across a friend, an engineer who was on +the job with me up in the hills a few months ago. He is also an +American, a chap from Providence, Rhode Island. Connected with the +consular service now. He was with a small party of Americans,--am +I boring you?" + +"No, no,--get on with it," urged Captain Trigger. + +"Several of them were sailing on this ship, and they were having +a little farewell party. That, however, has nothing to do with the +case. I left them at midnight and went up to my room. Now comes +the part you will not believe. During the night,--I sleep very +soundly,--some one entered my room, rifled my pockets, and got away +with everything I possessed, except my clothes and the five-dollar +gold piece I have carried ever since I left home,--as a lucky coin, +you know. He--" + +"How did he happen to overlook your lucky coin?" inquired the +Captain sarcastically. + +"Because it couldn't be a lucky coin if I carried it in my purse. +No coin is ever lucky that gets into my purse, Captain. I always +kept it tightly sewed up in the band of my trousers, safe from the +influence of evil companions. I did not discover the loss until +morning. It was then too late to do anything, as you were sailing at +eight. My Providence friend was not available. I knew no one else. +But I was determined to sail on the Doraine. That's the story, sir, +in brief. I leave it to you if I wasn't justified in doing the best +I could under the circumstances." + +Captain Trigger was not as fierce as he looked. He could not keep +the twinkle out of his eye. + +"We will see about that," he managed to say with commendable +gruffness. "Assuming that your story is true, why are you in such +a tremendous hurry to reach the United States? Skipping out for +some reason, eh?" + +"Well," said the young man slowly, "you see, news is a long time +getting out into the wilderness where I've been located for a +couple of years. We knew, of course, that there was a war on, but +we didn't know how it was progressing. Down here in this part of +the world we have a war every two or three months, and we've got so +used to having 'em over within a week or two that we just naturally +don't pay much attention to them. We don't even care who wins. But +a couple of months ago we got word up there that the United States +had finally got into it with everybody under the sun, and that +the Germans were bound to win if we didn't get a couple of million +men across in pretty short order. I am thirty years old, Captain, +strong and healthy, and I'm a good American. That's why I want to +get home. I've told you the truth about being robbed. I don't mind +losing the money,--only a couple of thousand pesos, you know,--but +if you chuck me off at the next port of call, Captain Trigger, I'll +curse you to my dying day. I'm willing to work, I'm willing to be +put in irons, I'm willing to get along on bread and water, but you've +just got to land me in the United States. You are an Englishman. I +suppose you've got relatives over in France fighting the Germans. +Maybe you've had some one killed who is dear to you." + +"My youngest son was killed in Flanders," said the Captain simply. + +"I am sorry, sir. Well, for every Englishman and every Frenchman +who has died over there, my country ought to supply some one to +take his place. I expect to be one of those men, Captain. I have +no other excuse for coming aboard your ship as a stowaway." + +The Captain still eyed him narrowly. + +"I believe you are honest, young man. If I am deceived in you I +shall never trust the eyes of another man as long as I live. Sit +down, Mr. Percival. I shall put you to work, never fear, but in +the meantime I am very much interested in what you were doing up in +the hills. You will oblige me by going as fully as possible into +all the details. I shall not pass judgment on you until I've heard +all of your story." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II + + + + + +Algernon Adonis Percival, civil and mining engineer, Cornell, had +gone through certain rather harsh stages of development in the +mines of Montana and later in the perilous districts of Northern +Mexico. A year or two prior to the breaking out of the great World +War, he was sent to South America to replace the general superintendent +of a new copper-mining enterprise in a remote section of the Andes, +on the Bolivian side of the mountains. Here he was in charge of +the heterogeneous horde of miners, labaurers, structural workers +and assayists who were engaged in the development and extension of +the vast concession controlled by his company. + +His description of the camp or town in which this motley assemblage +dwelt from one year's end to the other, far from civilization, +was illuminating to the two sea-faring men. It must be confessed, +however, that a sound reluctance to swallow the tale without +the proverbial grain of salt caused them to watch closely for the +slightest sign that might reveal to them the always-to-be expected +and seldom successful duplicity so common in those harrowing days +when all men were objects of suspicion. From time to time they +glanced inquiringly at each other, but the stranger's story was so +straightforward, so lacking in personal exploitation, so free from +unnecessary detail, that they were finally convinced that he was +all that he represented himself to be and that they had nothing to +fear from him. + +His long, hazardous journey by horse through the passes down into +the forests and jungles, out upon the endless, sparsely settled +pampas, and eventually into the remote village that witnessed the +passing every second day of a primitive and far from dependable railway +train, was presented with agreeable simplicity and conciseness. +He passed briefly over what might have been expanded into grave +experiences, and at last came, so to speak, to the gates of the +city, unharmed, resolute and full of the fire that knows no quenching. + +"By the way," observed the Captain, still wary, "has it occurred to +you we may be justified in suspecting that you deserted your post +up there in the hills, and that you have betrayed the confidence of +your employers?" Percival had completed what he evidently believed +to be a full and satisfactory account of himself. + +"I was in full charge up there, Captain Trigger. My contract had +but a month more to run. I appointed my own successor, and the +company will not be any the worse off for the change. My letter +to headquarters, announcing my decision not to renew the contract, +went forward two weeks before I left the camp. I merely anticipated +the actual termination of my contract by a month or so, and as I +handed my resignation at once to my own newly appointed superintendent, +I submit that I acted in absolute good faith. I may say that he +accepted it without a word of protest, sir. As a matter of fact, +I told him in advance that I wouldn't appoint him unless he agreed +to accept my resignation." + +The Captain smiled at this ingenuous explanation. + +"I daresay I ought to put you under guard, Mr. Percival," he said. +"My duty is very plain. A stowaway is a stowaway, no matter how you +look at him. The regulations do not leave me any choice. Maritime +justice is rarely tempered by mercy. However, under the circumstances, +I am inclined to accept your word of honour that you will not +violate your parole if I refrain from putting you in irons. Have I +your word of honour that you will not leave this ship until I hand +you over to the proper authorities in the United States?" + +"You have, sir." + +"You are a very head-strong, ambitious young man. You will not jump +overboard and try to beat us into port under your own steam?" + +"You may trust me, sir, never to give up the ship." + +"And you will kill as many Germans as possible?" + +"Yes, sir," said A. A. Percival submissively. + +Captain Trigger arose and extended his hand. + +"I've never done anything like this before in all my years as ship's +master. You ought to be flogged and stowed away in the brig until +you show a properly subdued spirit, young man. I suppose you've +heard of the cat-o'-nine-tails?" + +"My reading up to the age of fifteen was confined almost exclusively +to the genteel histories of pirates, buccaneers and privateersmen, +Captain Trigger," announced A. A. Percival, taking the master's +hand in a firm grip. "I wonder if you know what a black-snake whip +is, or a cattle-adder? Well, they're both painful and convincing. +As director of morals in the camp I have just left behind me, it +was my official duty on frequent occasions to see to it that current +offenders had from fifteen to fifty applications of the black-snake +in a public sort of way. The black-snake, I may explain, could be +wielded by a strong but unskilled arm. It was different, however, +with the cattle-adder. That had to be handled by an expert, one +who could stand off twenty paces, more or less, and crack the long +lash with such astonishing precision that the tip end of it barely +touched the back of the culprit, the result being a nobby assortment +of splotches that looked for all the world like hives after the +blood got back into them again. You see, I was chief magistrate, +executioner ex-officio, chief of police, jury commissioner--in fact, +an all-around potentate. Sort of Pooh-bah, you know. For serious +offences, such as wife beating, wife stealing, or having more +than one wife at a time, we were not so lenient. The offender, +on conviction, was strung up by the thumbs and used as a target +by amateurs who desired to become proficient in the use of the +cattle-adder. Murderers were attended to a trifle more expeditiously. +They were strung up by the neck." + +"Good God, man,--do you mean to say you hung men in that off-hand +fashion?" cried Captain Trigger, aghast. + +"Not without a fair trial, sir. No innocent man was ever hung. +There was no such thing as circumstantial evidence in that camp. +The guilty man was always taken red-handed. We had good laws and +they were rigidly enforced. There was no other way, sir. Short, +sharp and decisive. It's the best way. Men understand that sort of +thing and honest men approve of the method. You see, gentlemen, we +had a hard lot of characters to deal with. I wish to add, however, +that before I had been up there six months we had a singularly +law-abiding and self-respecting camp. Crime was not tolerated, not +even by the men who had once been criminals. If two men quarrelled, +they were allowed to fight it out fairly and squarely in any way +they could agree upon. Knives, hatchets and all other messy weapons +were barred. It was either fists, pistols or rifles at a fairly long +range, and under the strictest rules. Duels were fought according +to Hoyle, and were witnessed by practically every one in camp. You +will perceive that Copperhead Camp was no place for a coward or +a bluffer or a bully. It takes a brave man to fight a duel with a +chap who may be only half as big as he is, but who can shoot like +the devil. So you see, Captain Trigger, the cat-o'-nine-tails has +no terror for me." + +Mr. Mott regarded the young man with wide-open, somewhat incredulous +eyes. + +"You don't look like a fire-eating, swashbuckling party to me," he +said. + +"I am the most peaceable chap you've ever seen, Mr. Mott. You needn't +be alarmed. I'm not going to bite a hole in the ship and scuttle +her. Moreover, I am a very meek and lowly individual on board this +ship. There's a lot of difference between being in supreme command +with all kinds of authority to bolster you up and being a rat in +a trap as I am now. Up in Copperhead Camp I was a nabob, here I'm +a nobody. Up there I was the absolute boss of five or six hundred +men,--I won't say I could boss the women,--and I made 'em all walk +chalk without once losing step. There were murderers and crooks, +blacklegs and gunmen in my genial aggregation, men whose true names +we never knew, men who were wanted in every part of the civilized +world. The only place on earth, I suppose, where they could feel +reasonably at home was in that gosh-awful nowhere that we called +Copperhead Camp. You can't handle such men with mittens. And there +were good men there as well,--good, strong, righteous men. They +were the leaven that made the whole thing palatable. Without them +I could have had no authority. But I dare say I am boring you. The +present situation is the one we're interested in, not the lordly +past of your humble and, I trust, obedient servant." + +His smile was most engaging, but back of it the two seamen read +strength, decision, integrity. The gay, bantering, whilom attitude +of this unusual young man was not assumed. It was not a pose. He +was not a dare-devil, nor was he a care-free, unstable youth who +had matured abruptly in the exercise of power. On the contrary, he +was,--and Captain Trigger knew it,--the personification of confidence, +an optimist to whom victory and defeat are equally unavoidable +and therefore to be reckoned as one in the vast scheme of human +endeavour; a fighter who merely rests on his arms but never lays +them down; a spirit that absorbs the bitters and the sweets of life +with equal relish. + +Captain Trigger was not slow in making up his mind. This clean-minded, +clean-bodied American with the confident though respectful smile, +was a chap after his own heart. + +"I hardly know what to do with you, Percival," he said, a scowl of +genuine perplexity in his eyes. "You are not an ordinary transgressor. +You are a gentleman. You have exercised an authority perhaps somewhat +similar to my own,--possibly in some respects your position up +there was even more autocratic, if I may use the term. I am not +unconscious of all this, and yet I have no choice other than that +designated by law. The regulations are unalterable. It is a matter +of morale, pure and simple. We are compelled to treat all stowaways +alike. Of course, I shall not subject you to the ordinary--shall +we say methods of--" + +"Pardon me, Captain," broke in the young man, his smile no longer +in evidence; "I am asking no favours. I expect to be treated as an +ordinary stowaway. Set me to work at anything you like and I will +make as good a job of it as possible." + +"I was about to suggest that you serve as a sort of assistant to +Mr. Codge, the purser. I've no doubt he could find something for +you to do and--" + +"If that is your way of punishing me, Captain Trigger, of course +there is nothing for me to do but to submit." + +"Eh? I am sure you will not find Mr. Codge a hard taskmaster. He +is quite a good-natured man." + +"Extremely kind and considerate," hastily added Mr. Mott, reassuringly. + +"But I don't want to loaf my passage home," protested Percival. "I +want to be sentenced to the hardest sort of labour, if you don't +mind. I don't want to owe this steamship company a penny when I +step ashore. It is your duty, sir, as master of this ship, to put +me on the meanest job you've got." + +"My word!" exclaimed Captain Trigger. + +"I'm blessed!" said Mr. Mott. + +"Up where I've been running things and cock-walking like a foreman +in a shirt-waist factory, I made the rules and I enforced them. +I want to say to you that no favours were shown. If the Prince of +Wales had drifted in there, dead broke, and asked for something +to eat, he would have got it, but you bet your life he'd have had +to work for it. A tramp's a tramp, no matter how much purple he's +been used to, and you can say the same for a stowaway. What's the +matter with me taking the place of one of those deck-hands, or +whatever you call 'em, you lost last night?" + +"What's that?" + +"Swabbers, maybe you call 'em. Men that mop up the decks after +everybody else has turned in." + +"What are you talking about?" demanded the Captain, sitting up very +straight. Percival stared at him in astonishment. + +"I thought you knew about it, of course. Good Lord, sir, don't you +know that a couple of your men jumped overboard last night,--or +early this morning, rather? Just as the ship was rounding that big +headland--" + +"Good God, man, are you in earnest?" cried Mr. Mott, starting toward +the door. + +"I certainly am. I took them for deserters, of course,--not suicides, +because they didn't forget to put on life preservers before they +jumped. I haven't a doubt they were picked up, so there's no use +worrying. A minute or two after they went over,--from the bottom +deck or whatever you call it,--I heard a motor boat popping away +like a gatling-gun not far,--" + +But he was alone. Captain Trigger had dashed out of the cabin in +the wake of the First Officer. + +Algernon Adonis Percival stared blankly at the open door. + +"Good Lord, why all this excitement over a couple of bums?" he said, +addressing space. "If they were working for me, I'd thank the Lord +to be rid of 'em so cheaply. They--Hello!" + +The Second Officer popped into the room. + +"Come along with me," he snapped. "Lively, now. Just where and when +did you see a couple of men go overboard? Quietly, now. We don't +want to alarm the passengers." + +Within five minutes after Percival's disturbing report, the +officers of the Doraine, with set faces, were employed in a swift +but silent investigation. Before many more minutes had passed, at +least a portion of the stowaway's story had been verified. Two men +were found to be missing, although, strange to say, they had not +been missed up to the time that noses were counted. They were down +on the ship's roster as Norwegians, New York registry, and had come +down with the Doraine on her trip from the north. + +Percival repeated his story, but had little to add in the way of +detail. He had stolen on deck some time after midnight for a breath +of air, risking detection, and from the shelter of a secluded corner +well aft had heard the two men swabbing the deck below. Suddenly +they ceased work, and he prepared to creep back to a place of +safety, concluding that they were on their way to the upper deck. + +He went to the rail to listen. The two men were almost directly +below him, and he could see the upper portions of their figures +as they leaned far out over the rail, apparently looking into the +swirling waters below. Quite distinctly he heard one of them say, +in English: "We got to do it now or never." The other mumbled +something he could not distinguish. He was only mildly interested, +not anticipating what was to follow. For a few seconds he heard +them scrambling and puffing and then he saw them quite plainly on +the rail, their figures bulky with what he identified as life buoys, +a faint light from somewhere falling directly upon the grayish-white +objects in which they were swathed. + +One of them uttered the word "Now!" and to his amazement they shot +out, as one man, into the black-ness below. There was a single +splash. For a moment or two he stood spell-bound. Then he heard +some one running along the deck below. Convinced that the incident +had been witnessed by others, he darted into the companion-way and +made his way back to the stateroom of the sick passenger. Through +the lightless porthole he listened for the terrifying shout, "Man +overboard!" It did not come, but his ear caught the staccato beat +of a motor near by, striking up abruptly out of the swish of rushing +waters. In his ignorance, he decided that it was a boat from the +ship going to the rescue of the daring deserters, and calmly waited +for the engines of the mighty Doraine to cease their rhythmic +pulsing. He fell asleep. + +When he awoke, he concluded that he had dreamed the whole thing. +This conclusion was justified when he asked his wretched "bunkie" +if he had observed him leaving the room during the night. The answer +was a mournful negative, followed by the sufferer's more or less +positive declaration that he was staring wide awake the whole damned +night long. + +Percival, unconvinced, boldly made his way to the lower deck and +discovered that two life buoys were missing from their supports, +a circumstance that put an end to the hope that he had dreamed it +all. His own affairs however now loomed large, taking precedence +over the plight of the men who had deliberately abandoned the ship. +In any case, the ship's officers had done everything that could be +done in the matter. He was genuinely astonished to learn that the +act of the two men was unknown to the Captain. + +A hurried conference of the ship's officers and the commander +of the gun-crew resulted in a single but definite conclusion. The +desperate, even suicidal manner in which the men left the ship +signified but one thing: the absolute necessity of flight before +an even more sinister peril confronted them. Not a man on board +doubted for an instant that they had taken their chance in the +waters as a part of a preconceived plan, and they had taken it with +all the devilish hardihood of fanatics. + +The presence of the motor craft, so far out from port, lurking +with silent engine in the path of the steamship, could have but +one significance. It represented one of the carefully thought-out +details in a stupendous, far-reaching plot. + +If there were signals between the motor boat and the two men +aboard the steamship, they were not observed by the lookouts. In +all probability no signals were given. The little craft was to be +at a certain place at a certain hour,--and she was there! The men +who jumped knew that she would be there. A black, tiny speck on +the broad expanse of water, sheltered by a night of almost stygian +darkness, she lay outside the narrow radius to which visual +observation was confined, patiently waiting for the Doraine to pass +a designated point. There was to be no miscalculation on the part +of either the boat or the men who went over the side of the big +steamship into the seething waters. + +The closest inquiry among the members of the crew failed to reveal +any one who had witnessed the leap of the men. Percival was positive, +however, that some one ran along the lower deck, but whether toward +or away from the spot where the men went over he had no means of +knowing. He offered the suggestion that there were three persons +actually involved, and that one of them, more than likely the victim +of a coin-flipping decision, had remained on board to complete the +work the trio had been chosen to perform, even though death was to +be his lot. + +The Second Officer had been regarding Percival with ever-growing +suspicion. + +"Is there anything to prove, young man, that you are not the one +who stayed behind to complete the job?" he demanded at last. + +"Nothing," said Percival promptly, and somewhat scathingly, "nothing +at all, except the trifling fact that I am here talking it over with +you gentlemen instead of attending to my business, as any honest +conspirator should be doing. You may be quite sure of one thing: if +there is a man on board this ship whose business it is to finish the +job, he isn't idle. He's getting on with the job at this minute, +gentlemen. If you'll take my advice you will institute two +investigations. First, search the ship from stem to stern, from +keel to bridge, for bombs or infernal machines. Second, ask your +rich passengers if they have lost anything in the shape of pearls, +diamonds, coin of the realm, or anything else worth jumping into +the ocean for." + +Captain Trigger looked at him over the top of his eye-glasses. + +"You are not in Copperhead Camp at present, Mr. Percival," he said +stiffly. + +The young man flushed. "I beg your pardon, Captain Trigger," he +said simply. + +"All you have to do," said the Second Officer, fixing him with an +inimical eye, "is to answer questions and not to tell us how to +run this ship." + +Percival did his best to hold back the retort, but, failing, released +it with considerable sharpness: + +"Well, if I was running this ship I'd head her for shore pretty +damned quick." + +The American in command of the gun-crew was the only one who smiled, +and he did it openly. Captain Trigger's face darkened redly. + +"Take this man in charge, Mr. Shannon. He wants work. Give it him. +Under guard." + +"Am I suspected, Captain Trigger, of being in league--" + +"Every man, every woman on board this ship is suspected," said the +Captain with decision. "Every one, sir, from myself down. The rest +of us grasp that fact, even if you do not." + +And so it was that while Algernon Adonis Percival, under the watchful +eye of a burly seaman, fell to work scraping the scuppers on the +boat deck, the stern business of searching the ship went forward +with a thoroughness that left no room for doubt as to the fears and +apprehensions of the men who had her in charge. Despite the fact +that intensive, anxious hours of delving revealed no hidden, sinister +agent of destruction, there was no relaxation on the part of the +officers and crew. One by one the passengers were examined; their +rooms and their luggage were systematically overhauled. No one +resented these drastic operations, for by midday the whole ship's +company knew what had transpired during the night. Eagerly they +answered the questions, cheerfully they submitted to the examination +of their effects, and then fell silent and subdued, oppressed by the +suspense that hung over the ship like a cloud. Crew and passengers +alike underwent the most rigid questioning, the high and the low, +the rich and the poor, the young and the old. + +Early that morning, in fact some time prior to the time that Percival +told his story, the wireless operator reported that his transmitter +was out of order. While he was satisfied that the apparatus had +not been tampered with, he was plainly affected by the rather grim +coincidence. He was an old and trusted man in the service, competent, +efficient and loyal. + +His assistant, the night operator, however, had made less than half +a dozen voyages on the Doraine. He was an Englishman, a cripple; +twice he had been rescued after vessels on which he sailed were sent +to the bottom by German submarines. His credentials were flawless. +He was on duty during the night just past, and had picked up several +indistinct, incomplete radio messages. There was nothing wrong with +the receiving or transmitting apparatus when he went off duty at six +in the morning, and as his superior came on at the same hour,--they +exchanged greetings at the door of the wireless house,--it was +absolutely impossible for any one to have entered the well-guarded +room without attracting attention. Cruise, the chief radio-man, +had his assistant routed out of bed and together they worked like +beavers over the disabled mechanism. + +Hour after hour, the nervous, uneasy passengers paced the decks. +Few remained indoors, and few possessed the calmness to loll in +deck-chairs. + +Percival toiled cheerfully, but with eye and ear alert for the +first inkling of definite peril. With commendable thoughtfulness, +he had shed the clean white shirt and collar so generously supplied +by his fellow townsman, and had donned a commodious sea-jacket. + +He could not help observing the dark, suspicious glances cast upon +him by the deck-walkers, nor were his ears proof against audible +comments. Mothers nudged their children and said, in slightly +lowered but distinctly impressive tones: + +"That's the man. He's a stowaway." + +"See, Wilfred,--see the man? No, no! The one with the mop, dear. +Don't go near him." + +"What a dreadful looking creature he is." + +"The Captain captured him this morning away down in the bottom of +the ship. He was stealing a ride." + +"Poor fellow! He doesn't look like a bad man, does he?" + +And so on and so forth, as the day went along. + +Masculine strollers had very decided opinions about him. Mr. +Landover, the banker, stopped to discuss the toiling menial with +Mr. Nicklestick, Mr. Block and Mr. Fitts. + +"He ought to be in irons," said Mr. Landover, glowering at Percival. +"That's what I told the Captain a little while ago. He's a bad egg, +that fellow is. I'm a pretty good judge of men, gentlemen, and I +don't often make mistakes. That fellow is a fugitive from justice, +if he isn't something worse. Observe the cut of his mouth--ah! see +that? What did I tell you? Did you ever see a more evil grin?" + +"Take it from me," said Mr. Nicklestick, "that guy knows a good +deal more about what is going on aboard this ship than he lets on. +He ain't as simple as he looks. I told Captain Trigger just now +that he ought to give him a dose of the third degree. That's the +way to get to the bottom of this business. String him up by the +thumbs till he squeals. What say, Mr. Fitts?" + +Mr. Fitts, the architect, was a mild man. + +"He strikes me as a rather honest looking sort of chap," he said, +and was promptly glared at by his companions. "Of course," he +hastened to add, "I am not saying that he is all right. He may be +as crooked as the deuce. I'm only saying he's got a rather pleasing +sort of face." + +"The most innocent, open-faced young fellow we ever had in the +bank," said Mr. Landover, "turned out to be the damnedest rascal +I've ever encountered." + +"How did you happen to have him in the bank if you are such a good +judge of men?" inquired Mr. Fitts, utterly without malice. + +Mr. Landover reddened. "My dear sir, I do not come in contact with +every employe of the bank. You forget that it is quite an immense +institution." + +"It sure is," said Mr. Nicklestick. "I'm thinking of transferring +our account to your bank, Mr. Landover. We've been banking with--" + +"I vas telling my vife at lunch," broke in Mr. Block, twitching +his Hebraic nose emphatically,--"not that we could eat any lunch, +by gracious, no!--I vas telling her I bet my boots dere ain't enough +life-boats to get as much as half of us off safe in case something +happens. I counted up all the life-boats I could see, and ven I +estimate the number of peoples on board, w'y, by gracious, the loss +of life vould be frightful, gentlemen. The only chance we would haf +would be for approxi-madely fifty percent of the peoples on board +to be killed outright by the explosion." + +"I hear there is a detective from Chicago on board, with a prisoner," +ventured Mr. Fitts. "Why doesn't the Captain ask him to have a look +at this stowaway fellow?" + +"What would be the good of that?" demanded Mr. Landover. "I never +saw a detective in my life that knew what to do in an emergency. Soon +as you get one of them where he can't telephone in to headquarters +for instructions he's as helpless as a baby. Don't talk to me about +detectives. Why, this fellow would simply laugh in his face." + +"Just, as he is laughing in yours at this moment, Mr. Landover," +pursued Mr. Fitts pleasantly. + +"The damned rascal," said Mr. Landover, and stalked away. + +"There goes one of the biggest figures in the United States," said +Mr. Nicklestick, looking after the banker. His remark was addressed +to Mr. Fitts. "I wish I had his brains." + +"Dey vouldn't do you any good, Nicklestick," said Mr. Block, "unless +you had his money too also." + +"If I had his brains," said Mr. Nicklestick, "he wouldn't have his +money, so what's the difference?" + + + + + + +CHAPTER III + + + + + +Mr. Block looked uneasily out over the tumbling ocean, focusing his +gaze on a section of the horizon that for want of something more +definite than mere hope lay in a direct line with the City of New +York. + +"And ven you stop to think," said he wistfully, "that we are still +something like six thousand miles from home,--oh, veil! Vat's +the use? I bet you I never go so far avay from my business again. +Vat a fool I vas to make this trip ven the whole ocean is full +of submarines and German agents and plotters and--Yes, vat a fool +ven I had so many high-priced men vorking for me who vas crazy to +come. But my vife she vould do it. Paris and London every year it +used to be, so she must haf a little holiday or she vill die, she +say. Veil, here we are. And ven I think vat a long holiday it is +going to be maybe,--by gracious, I could kick myself for not giving +in to my brother-in-law ven he begged so hard to be allowed to make +the trip because he needed the change from not being avay from the +office for five years, and his vife and children too. His vife she +needed a change as much as he, vat with not being able to get into +any good hotels in the summer time and not being able to keep out +of them in the vinter time, she vas nearly distracted. No, I vas +selfish. My vife she vas selfish too,--and him her own brother. Vy +shouldn't he haf a vacation vonce in awhile?" + +He turned abruptly to the sailor who lounged near the perspiring +Percival. + +"How far is it to land, my frient?" he inquired. + +The sailor touched his cap. "Which way, sir?" he asked solemnly. +"Fore or aft?" + +(Percival said to himself: "By golly, I'll bet that man is an +American.") + +"Vat? Land,--you know vat I mean,--the end of the ocean. How far +avay is it?" + +The sailor calculated. "Well, the nearest land, sir, I should say, +is about three hundred miles away, to port." + +"How deep is it here?" asked Mr. Nicklestick, moving away from the +rail suddenly. + +The sailor glanced down at the water, squinted an eye, and then +spoke reassuringly. + +"It ain't half as deep here as it is a little furder on," he said. +"It's only a shade over three miles where we are now, sir. We're +comin' to the deepest part of the ocean,--ought to be there inside +of a couple of hours. Here, you! On the job, on the job!" + +"You ought to search that man carefully," advised Mr. Nicklestick. + +"I have," growled the sailor. "He says he never uses it in that +form. I guess he's tellin' the truth." + +"Never uses what?" + +"Tobacco, sir." + +"Oh!" said Mr. Nicklestick, and, catching a glimpse of Madame Obosky +emerging upon the deck, unceremoniously deserted his companions +and hurried off to join her, his speed being suddenly accelerated +by the spectacle of Mr. Shine, the motion picture magnate, who +approached the lady from an equi-distant station and with similar +haste. Mr. Block, being a trifle near-sighted and in some doubt +as to the whereabouts of his wife, peered here and there intently, +and then bore down upon the celebrated Russian dancer, who, it +would seem, was in dire need of consolation. + +Mr. Fitts followed them with a glance over his glasses and then +turned to the sailor man. + +"I suppose it's against orders for me to speak to this man," he +said. + +"Yes, sir." + +The architect sighed, and walked away. + +The parade became more interesting as the lack of news from the +investigators restored a sort of hopeful optimism to the breasts +of the anxious company. Those who had maintained a stubborn air +of bravado, now became almost offensively jaunty. Others, frankly +terrified at the outset, sauntered timidly away from the life-boats +to which they were assigned. Every one was glad that the Captain +had ordered a life-boat drill on the first afternoon out, and every +one was glad that he had ignored the demand of Mr. Landover that +the boats be lowered the instant he discovered that his passengers +were in peril. No news was good news, argued the majority, and +jesting was in order. + +Peter Snipe, the novelist, got out a pad of paper and began jotting +down impressions. Madam Careni-Amori and Signor Joseppi exchanged +the first friendly words they had spoken to each other in weeks, +and in full view of an entranced audience linked arms and strode +bravely to and fro, the former clasping a huge jewel case to her +ample bosom, the latter chafing perceptibly under the weight of +an invisible belt stuffed to its capacity with banknotes and gold. +Chilean ladies and Chilean gentlemen, dazzling Brazilian ladies and +pompous Brazilian gentlemen, smug Argentinians, lordly Castilians, +garrulous Portuguese, lofty English gentlemen and supercilious +English ladies, friendly and irrepressible Americans,--all of them +swinging their sea-legs with new-found abandon--clattered solidly +around the wind-swept circuit. New faces appeared in the procession, +new voices were raised with energy, new figures sprang into existence +with marvellous rapidity. It seemed to Percival that the population +doubled and tripled and quadrupled with every throb of the powerful +engines. He saw his "bunkie" of the night before,--the man who was +trying so hard to die and couldn't,--he saw him plunging along with +the throng, pale but valiant, ferociously glaring at every one who +smoked. + +A small group of American nurses, some young and pretty, others +young and homely, but all of them sprightly and clear-eyed,--nine +of them, in fact--tramped by in "columns of three." + +Percival's guardian jerked his head in their direction after they +had passed, and volunteered this bit of information: + +"Hornswoggled, them girls was. Come all the way down from New +York six months ago. Promised double pay and plenty of work in the +American colony. Sore as crabs, all of 'em. They got double pay all +right, all right, but there was some misunderstandin' as to what +single pay was to be to start off with. Single pay turned out to +be just whatever suited the people that employed 'em, seein's they +were nearly seven thousand miles away from God and up against it, +so they're beatin' it back home to volunteer for service in France. +I heard one of 'em say she could save more money workin' for nothin' +in France than she could earn in a year down here at double pay. +What'd you say your name was, young feller?" + +"Percival." + +"I mean your last name." + +"That's it." + +"Come off! Nobody ever had a last name like that." + +"You ought to hear what my first name is,--and my middle one, too. +You said a little while ago you'd never seen any one of my size +with bigger and harder muscles. Well, if you knew what my full name +is, old man, you'd understand why I began developing them,--I've +got a lot more too that you can't see,--when I first began going +to school." + +"What is your other names?" inquired the sailor curiously, + +"Algernon Adonis," said Percival. + +The sailor was silent for a moment, thinking of the proper thing +to say. Then he said: + +"You're dead right. It takes a heap of muscle to pertect a name +like that." + +Three women stopped in front of the two men. Percival kept his eyes +lowered. + +"Why,--why, Auntie,--I know him," fell from the lips of one of the +trio. There was not only surprise in her voice but a trace of awe +as well. + +The swabber looked up quickly. He found himself gazing straight +into the eyes of the speaker. Her lips were parted, her head was +bent slightly forward, her eyes expressed utter incredulity and +bewilderment. Her companion, an elderly lady, and a bespectacled +young woman who carried an arm-load of steamer-rugs, stared not at +him but at the girl who had delivered this startling announcement. + +"I mean I,--that is, I may be mistaken," stammered the latter, +suddenly averting her eyes. A wave of crimson swept over her face. + +"Undoubtedly," exclaimed the elderly lady with great positiveness. +Turning to inspect the object under discussion, she sustained a +shock that caused her to stiffen and draw in her breath quickly. + +Percival was smiling in a most friendly and encouraging manner. He +went farther, and lifted his disreputable white canvas hat. + +"Oh, goodness!" exclaimed the young lady in a sort of panic. "Are +you--is it really you, Mr. Percival?" + +Mr. Percival glanced inquiringly at his guard. + +"That's his name, Miss," said that worthy. "And that's one of the +three reasons why he's got them muscular arms you're lookin' at. +Sorry, though, but my orders are not to allow any one to speak to +him." + +"Are you crazy, Ruth?" cried the older lady, aghast. "It's the +stowaway every one is talking about. The one who tried to blow up +the ship." + +The young lady returned Percival's smile,--rather a diffident, +uncertain effort, to be sure, but still a smile,--and murmured +something about night before last at the Alcazar Grand. + +"What are you saying, Ruth? Do you mean to say you met this man at +the Alcazar Grand?" + +"Yes, Aunt Julia," said the other wrinkling her pretty forehead in +perplexity. "He--he danced with me." + +"He--you danced with him?" gasped the horrified Aunt Julia. + +"Don't you remember? Phil Morton introduced him to us. I--I can't +believe my eyes." + +"I can't believe mine," snapped the elder woman. "I never saw this +fellow before in my life. The idea! Phil Morton having a friend +like--You are mistaken. And people are staring at us." + +"Just the same," said her niece, stubbornly, "I did dance with him, +and, what's more, I danced more than once with him. Didn't I, Mr. +Percival?" + +Mr. Percival, still beaming, again looked at the sailor appealingly. + +"You can tell it to me," said the latter, furtively glancing to +the right and left before making the concession. + +Looking straight into the sailor's eyes, Percival said: + +"Yes, Miss Clinton. I had four dances with you,--and a lemon squash." + +"Wait a moment, Aunt Julia," protested the young lady, holding back. +"Would you mind telling me, Mr. Percival, how you happen to be here +and in this plight? You didn't mention sailing on the Doraine." + +Mr. Percival, to the sailor: "Neither did you, Miss Clinton. You +certainly are no more surprised than I am." + +"Why are you on board as a stowaway? Phil Morton told me you belong +to an old Baltimore family and had all kinds of--that is, you were +quite well-off." + +Mr. Percival, to the sailor: "Please don't blush, Miss Clinton. I'm +not the least bit sensitive. Money isn't everything. I seem to be +able to get along without it. Later on, I hope to have the opportunity +to explain just why--" + +"That'll do," interrupted the sailor. "Here comes the Captain." + +Captain Trigger hove in sight around the corner of the deck building, +with Chief Engineer Gray and the Second Officer. + +"I don't know what to make of you," said Miss Clinton, sorely +puzzled. Her aunt was clutching her arm. "You seemed so awfully +jolly the other night. And--and just look at you now." + +She moved away, followed by the bespectacled young woman and the +steamer-rugs, graceful despite the sudden yank with which her aunt +set her in motion. Percival managed to keep an eye on her till she +turned the corner. Then he sighed. + +The Captain halted in front of him. + +"Are you acquainted with Mrs. Spofford and her niece, Percival?" +he inquired. + +"Miss Clinton has done me the honour to remember meeting me night +before last at the Alcazar Grand, sir. Mrs. Spofford is not so +generous." + +"I see," said Captain Trigger reflectively. "You will report at +once to Mr. Gray. He will give you a less public job, as you call +it." A twinkle came into his eyes. "He doesn't like the hat you're +wearing. Nor the shirt. Nor the boots." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"And, by the way, Percival, as soon as you are slightly refurbished +I want you to stroll through the second cabin and if possible +identify the two stewards who came to No. 22. Let me see, was it +during the day or at night?" + +"Some time during the night, sir. Eleven or half-past, I should +say." + +"Very well." + +An hour later he reported to Captain Trigger. "I have seen all of +the stewards, sir, according to Mr. Codge, and I do not recognize +any of them as the men who came to No. 22. I had a fairly good +view of them, too, from beneath the lower berth. They spoke in a +language I did not understand--" + +"Do you understand German?" + +"No, sir. I know it when I hear it, however. They were not speaking +German. I may have been wrong, but I came to the conclusion that +they were transferring some one to No. 22. They brought in two +suitcases, and left them when they went out. I--" + +Captain Trigger brought his clenched fist down on the table with +a resounding, emphatic bang. + +"Now, we have it! That Chicago detective is right, by gad!" + +He turned to the small group of officers clustered behind him. Fresh +alarm,--real consternation,--had leaped into the eyes of every man +of them. + +"Then--then, that means our search isn't over?" cried Mr. Mott, +starting up. + +"It does! Every inch of this ship,--every damned inch of it, from +stem to stern. Overlook nothing, Mr. Mott. Don't delay a second." + +Percival was alone with the agitated Captain an instant later. +Trigger's eyes were rather wild and bloodshot. The younger man's +face blanched. He knew now that the danger was real. He waited for +the Captain to speak. + +"Percival, the two men you saw in 22 were not stewards. They were +the men who jumped overboard. You tell me they left two bags there +when they went out of the room. Well, they were not there this +morning when the regular steward went into the room. They have +disappeared. But the contents of those bags are still somewhere on +board this ship. And if they are not found in time, by gad, sir, +we will all be in Kingdom Come before we know it." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + + + +The first explosion occurred at eleven minutes past six. The +chart-house and part of the bridge were blown to pieces. Three dull, +splintering crashes ensued in rapid succession, proving beyond +question that the bombs were set to automatically explode at a given +time. One of them wrecked the engine-room; another blew a great +hole in the stern of the ship, above the water line; the third +destroyed the wireless house and carried away a portion of the deck +with it. + +There were eight in all of these devilish machines in the heart of +the Doraine. Some time prior to the first explosion, the feverish +searchers had uncovered four of them, cunningly planted in the +most vital parts of the ship. Two were taken from the lower hold, +one at each end of the vessel, and two more were found close to +the carefully protected section of the vessel in which a rather +insignificant but deadly shipment of high explosives was stored. + +The discovery of the four bombs and their immediate consignment to +the sea saved the ship from being blown to bits. With another hour +to spare, it is more than probable the remaining four would have +been found, notwithstanding the amazing cleverness with which they +were hidden, so thorough and so dogged was the search. Confusion, +terror, stupefaction and finally panic followed the successive +blasts. The decks were strewn with people prostrated by the violent +upheavals, and many there were who never got up again. Stunned, +dazed, bewildered, those who were able to do so scrambled to their +feet only to be hurled down again and again. Shrieks, groans, +prayers,--and curses,--filled the brief, ghastly silences between +the muffled detonations. The great vessel surged and rolled and +plunged like a tortured animal. + +The splintering of wood, the rending of plates, the shattering of +glass, and above all this horrid turmoil the mighty roaring and +hissing of steam!... And the wild, gurgling cries of the frantic +unfortunates who had leaped into the sea! + +Out of the chaos with incredible swiftness came the paralysis of +despair, and out of that slowly but surely groped the never-failing +courage of the men who go down to the sea in ships. Hoarse commands +lifted above the groans and prayers, and strong but shaken figures +sprang with mechanical precision to the posts allotted them. +Life-boat after life-boat went down into the sea that glistened +with the slanting rays of an untroubled sun, low-lying at the end +of day. + +Fire broke out in several places. Down into the bowels of the +ship plunged the resolute, undaunted heroes who remained behind, +the chosen complement reserved for just such an emergency by the +far-seeing master. + +Above the hissing of steam and the first feeble cracklings of flame, +rose the stentorian voice of the Captain from his post at the base +of the demolished bridge. + +"Fight, men! Fight! Fight! There are dying men below! Stand by! +Fight for them!" + +He was bloody and almost unrecognizable as he stood there clutching +a stanchion for support. His legs were rigid, his body swayed, +but his spirit was as staunch as the star that had guided him for +fifty years through the trackless waste. + +And while these doughty, desperate spirits fought the fire and +smoke with every means at their command, down in the suffocating +depths of the ship, braving not only the peril visible and at hand, +but the prospect of annihilation in the event that a belated bomb +projected its hideous force into the nest of high explosives,--while +these men fought, the smiling, placid sea was alive with small white +craft that bobbed in the gleaming sunlight, life-boats crowded to +the gunwales with shuddering, bleak-eyed men, women and children +waiting to pick up those who stayed behind, and who inevitably +would be driven overboard by the resistless, conquering flames. + +Cruising about at a safe distance from the menacing hull, these +boats managed to rescue a few of the beings who had leaped overboard +in the first mad panic of fear, but many there were who went down +never to be seen again. No boat was without its wounded--and its +dead; no boat was without its stricken, anxious-eyed survivors who +watched and prayed for the salvation of loved ones left behind. +With straining eyes they searched the surface of the sea, peered +at the occupants of near and distant boats, stared at the scurrying +figures on the decks of the smoking steamer, hoping,--always +hoping,--and always sobbing out the endless prayer. + +At last, as the sun sank below the blue-black horizon, exhausted, +red-eyed, gasping men struggled up from the drenched, smothering +interior of the ship, and hurled themselves, not into the sea, but +prone upon the decks! They had conquered! The scattered, vagrant +fires, attacked in their infancy, while still in the creeping stage, +had been subdued. + +Darkness fell. A chill night air stole out of the east, stealthily +trailing the sun. Will-o'-the-wisp lights bespecked the sea, +surrounding the black hulk that lay motionless in the center of the +circle. Lanterns in a score or more of small boats bobbed fitfully +in the gentle swell. Presently lights appeared on board the Doraine, +one here, one there, then others in twos and threes,--some of them +stationary, others moving slowly from place to place. The life-boats +crept closer, still closer. Then, out from the silent hulk, came +the voice of man. It was the voice of the First Officer, hoarse +and unrecognizable, but sharp with authority. Other voices repeated +the commands from various parts of the ship,--commands to the +encircling will-o'-the-wisps. + +The word came down to the scores who filled the boats that they +were to lie by until sunrise, keeping in close contact with each +other and at no great distance from the ship. The most thorough, +careful examination of the steamer was in progress. If it was found +that she was in no danger of foundering,--and the word was most +reassuring,--all of them would be taken aboard in the morning. +Nothing could be done at present. A few hours more would tell the +tale. + +And then, for the first time since the disaster, the note of +the croaker was heard. Each and every boat contained at least one +individual who knew exactly what ought to be done in a crisis like +this. + +Mr. Landover addressed the benumbed, unresisting occupants of the +boat into which he had climbed with commendable reluctance as one +of the last persons to leave the ship. + +"Why don't they begin sending out S. O. S. calls? What's the +wireless for, if not to be used at a time like this? Say, you! Yell +up there to some of those damned muddled-headed idiots and tell +them what to do. Tell them that I say for them to send out calls +for help. What's that? What did you say?" + +The steward in charge of the boat repeated his remark and Mr. +Landover at once said he would report him to Captain Trigger. + +"But it won't do any good," complained the banker despairingly. +"Captain Trigger hasn't got the backbone of a fishworm. He'd let +you tell him to go to hell and never think of jacking you up for +it. No wonder we're in the fix we're in now. If he'd had the sense +of a jelly-fish he'd have--Here! Sit still! You'll upset the boat, +you fool! What--What are you going to do with that oar?" + +"I'm going to crack you over the bean with it if you don't take +back what you said about Captain Trigger," said the steward, very +earnestly. "Take it back, do you hear me?" + +"My God, would you murder me for a little thing like that?" + +Mr. Nicklestick aroused himself from the torpor of despair. + +"Take it back, Mr. Landover,--please do. If he misses you, he'll +get me sure, it's so dark, and so help me God, I got nothing but +the deepest respect for Captain Trigger. He's a vonderful man, +steward. Don't make any mistake. You hear me say he is a vonderful +man? Veil,--" + +"Oh, shut up, Nicklestick," grated Landover, crouching down behind +the gentleman addressed. + +The steward sat down. "I'd do it in a minute if it wasn't for the +women an' children in this boat." + +"I intend to have every officer on that steamer arrested for criminal +negligence the instant I set foot in New York," boomed the banker. +"I call upon every one of you, my fellow-passengers, to testify +to the utter lack of precaution taken by the men in charge of that +ship. And what effort are they making to bring help to us now? By +gad, if I was in command of that vessel I'd be shooting wireless +calls to every--Great Scott! What's that?" + +"That's a rocket, you blamed old fool!" roared the steward. + +"Good God!" gasped the exasperated banker. "Are we having a +celebration with fireworks?" + +The dull, hapless occupants of the lifeboats watched with fascinated +eyes the first of the giant rockets that whizzed and roared its +way up from the deck of the ship, an endless arrow of fire piercing +the night. A loud report, the scattering of a hundred stars, and +then--denser blackness than before. + +Morning came. Up out of the east stole a sickly grey. It turned +slowly into pink, and then suddenly the sea once more was blue +and smiling. In the heart of the dancing cordon lay the weirdly +camouflaged Doraine, inert, sinister, as still and cold as death. +No smoke issued from her stacks to cheer the wretched watchers; no +foam, no spray leaped from her mighty bow. She was a great, lifeless +thing. Waves lapped gently against her sides and fell away only to +come back again in playful scorn for the vast object that had rent +and baffled them so long. On high fluttered the Stars and Stripes, +gay in the presence of death, a sprightly harbinger of hope flaunting +defiance in the face of despair. + +Men, stripped to the waist, grimy and shining with the sweat of +hours, moving about in knots of three and four--always in knots of +three or four as if afraid to disintegrate--leaned upon the rail +and watched the approach of the crowded boats, looked down into +pallid, anguished faces with their eager, hungry eyes, eyes that +devoured the groups along the rail. Now and then a glad shout of +joy went up from one of the boats, and a figure in the huddled mass +was transformed into a responsive thing of life. + +In each of the square, black openings in the hull of the ship stood +men with ropes and ladders. The great steel doors lay flat against +the sides, swung wide to admit this time a human cargo. From the +interior of the vessel came the brisk, incessant clatter of hammers +against wood and steel; from the decks broke the loud, commanding +voices of men calling out directions; from the gliding, slapping +boats went up the hearty shouts of understanding and obedience, +the rattling of boat-hooks, the grinding of oars in the locks, the +murmur of voices revived. + +"Vomen and children first!" was the shrill, oft-repeated exhortation +from one of the boats. + +And up in the centre of another sprang a fine, imposing figure, +from whose lips rolled these thrilling words: + +"By God, they're great! They're great, after all! God bless Captain +Trigger and every man-jack of them!" + +"Get down!" roared his still unpacified critic, the steward. "You'll +fall overboard, you dam' fool!" + +The gaunt, coatless Mr. Mott commanded the port side of the vessel; +Mr. Codge, the purser, the starboard. Fighting men in the breeches +and leggings of the American Navy; blackened and bandaged stokers, +sailors and landsmen comprised the motley company that stood ready +to drag the occupants of the boats up into the dank, smoke-scented +maw of the ship. + +One by one, in regular, systematic order, the lifeboats came +alongside. There was no confusion, no bungling. They bumped gently +against the towering rows of plates, and, made fast by ropes with +ample play, gave up in time their precious cargoes. No one lifted +up his voice in rejoicing, for there were dead and injured back +in the shadows; there were grief-stricken, anxious men and women +crouching out there in the sunshine; there were limp, unconscious +women and half-dead children; and over all still hung the ominous +cloud of catastrophe fat with prophecies of perils yet to come. + +They had gone out from a ship filled with a monstrous clangour and +confusion, they were returning to a tomblike hulk, a lonely mass +in which echoes would abound, a thing of sighs and silences, the +corpse of a mammoth that had throbbed yesterday,--but never more. + +Up in the curving triangle of the forward deck were two long, +canvas-covered rows. The dead! Forty-six twisted, silent forms lying +side by side, some calm in death, others charred and mutilated beyond +all possibility of identification. Every man in the engine-room at +the time of the explosion was now a mangled, unrecognizable thing. +Engineers, electricians, stokers,--all of them wiped out in the +flash of an eye,--burnt, boiled, shattered. Half a dozen women, as +many children, lay with the silent men. + +The injured had been placed in staterooms on the promenade deck, +regardless of previous occupancy or subsequent claim. There lay the +score and a half of seriously injured, and there toiled the ship's +surgeon and his volunteer helpers. Sailor and merchant, worker +and idler, scholar and dolt, steerage and first cabin, wealth and +poverty, shared alike in the disposition of quarters and shared +alike in attention. There was no discrimination. One life was as +good as another to the doctor and his men, the poor man's moan as +full of suffering as that of the rich man, the wail of the steerage +woman as piteous as that of her sister above. + +Captain Trigger was one of the injured. He swore a great deal when +the doctor ordered him to bed. Ribs and a broken arm? Why the devil +should he be put to bed for something a schoolboy would laugh at? +Mr. Shannon and two of the younger officers were killed by the +explosion that wrecked the bridge and chart house. Chief Engineer +Gray died in the engine-room. Cruise was blown to pieces in the +wireless house. His assistant, the cripple with the charmed life, +was dead. + +A few seconds before the first explosion took place he blew out his +brains with a big navy revolver. The last seen of Cruise was when +he appeared in the door of his station, an expression of mingled +rage and alarm on his face. Pointing frantically at the figure of +his assistant as it shot down the steps and across the deck, he +shouted: + +"Get that man! Get him! For God's sake, get him!" + +It all happened in a few seconds of time. The shrill laugh of +the fleeing assistant, the report of the revolver, an instant of +stupefaction,--and then the dull, grinding crash. + +It will never be known what Cruise had heard or seen in the last +moments of his life. No one on board the Doraine, however, doubted +for an instant that he had discovered, too late, the truth about his +misshapen assistant. They now knew with almost absolute certainty +the identity of the odd man in that devilish trio, the man whose +footsteps Percival had heard, the man who stayed behind to guarantee +the consummation of the hideous plot. Coward in the end, he shirked +the death he was pledged to accept. He knew what was coming. Unlike +his braver comrades, he took the simplest way. + +The count began. Late in the afternoon it was completed. There +were forty-six known dead on board the Doraine, the majority being +members of the crew. Seventeen persons were missing, chiefly from +the steerage. Twenty-nine seriously injured were under the doctor's +care. Some of them would not recover. A hundred or more persons +suffered from shock, bruises, cuts and exposure, but only a few of +them required or demanded attention. In spite of their injuries, +they fell to with the spirit that makes for true heroism and devoted +themselves to the care of the less fortunate, or to the assistance +of the sorely-tried officers and men who strove to bring order out +of chaos. + +Among the survivors were two American surgeons and a physician from +Rio Janeiro. They, with the nurses, all of whom had been saved, +immediately went to the relief of the ship's doctor, and in short +order an improvised hospital was established. There was a remarkable +unanimity of self-sacrifice among the passengers. High and low, +they fell to in a frenzy of comradeship, and worked side by side +in whatsoever capacity they were needed, whether fitted for it or +not. No man, no woman, who was able to lift a helping hand, failed +in this hour of need. The bereaved, as well as those who were +untouched by a personal grief, gave all that was in them, tearfully, +grimly, ardently. + +Menial labour fell to the lot of the lordly but uncomplaining +Landover, to Block and Nicklestick, Jones and Snipe, and even to +the precious Signor Joseppi, who, forgetting his Caruso-like throat, +toiled and sweated in the smoky saloon. + +Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate, the while he laboured +amidst the wreckage of the after deck, lamented not the cheerless +task but the evil fate that prevented the making of the most +spectacular film the world had ever known. + +Madame Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky and her dancers; bejewelled +Jewesses and half-clad emigrants; gentle women unused to toil and +women who were born to it; the old and the young--all of them, +without exception,--rose from the depths of despair and faced the +rigours of the day with unflinching courage, gave out of a limitless +store of tenderness all that their strength could spare. + +And through a neglected, abandoned field of pearls and gold and +precious stones, limped unchallenged the tireless figure of "Soapy" +Shay, diamond thief, a bloody bandage about his head, an exalted +light in his pain-stricken eyes. His one-time captor lay stark and +cold in the gruesome line in the bow of the boat. It was "Soapy" +Shay who staggered out of the rack and smoke with the burly, stricken +detective in his arms, and it was "Soapy" Shay who wept when the +last breath of life cased out through his tortured lips. For of all +the company on board the Doraine, there was but one whom "Soapy" +knew, but one who called him by name and shared tobacco with +him,--and that one was William Spinney, the man who was taking him +back to a place where mercy would not be shown. + +After the sun had set and the decks were dark and deserted except +for the men employed in the gruesome business, the dead were lowered +into the sea, swathed in canvas and weighted with things that were +made to kill,--shells from the gunners' hoard. Swiftly, methodically, +one after the other, they slid down to the black, greedy waters, +sank to the grave that is never still yet always silent, to the +vast, unexplored wilderness that stretches around the world. The +thin little missionary from the barren plateaus of Patagonia and the +plump priest from the heart of Buenos Aires monotonously commended +each and every one of them to the mercy of God! + +The sun came up again in the morning over a smiling, happy sea that +licked the sides of the Doraine with the tenderness of a dog. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V + + + + + +The plight of the hapless steamer could not be disguised. Even the +most ignorant passenger knew that the wrecked engines could not be +repaired or compounded. They knew that the Doraine was completely +paralysed. The power to move at will was for ever lost, the force +that had driven her resistlessly along the chosen path was still. +The powerful propellers were idle, the huge stern-post wrenched +so badly that the rudder was useless. She was adrift, helplessly +adrift. Of what avail the wheel and a patched-up rudder to the mass +that lay inert, motionless on the smiling sea? + +Every one on board realized, with sinking heart, that the Doraine +was to go on drifting, drifting no man knew whither, until she +crossed the path of a friendly stranger out there in the mighty +waste. No cry of distress, no call for help could go crackling into +the boundless reaches. That was the plight of the Doraine and her +people on the mocking day that followed the disaster, and unless +fate intervened that would be her plight for days without end. + +Mr. Mott, temporarily in command, addressed the passengers in the +main saloon, where they had congregated at his request. He did not +mince matters. He stated the situation plainly. It was best that +they should realize, that they should understand, that they should +know the truth, in order that they might adapt themselves to the +conditions he was now compelled of necessity to impose upon them. +They were, so to speak, occupying a derelict. Help might come before +nightfall, it might not come for days. He hoped for the best but +he intended to prepare for the worst. + +Without apology he laid down a rigid set of rules, and from these +rules, he made it perfectly clear, there could be no deviation. +The available supply of food was limited. It was his purpose to +conserve it with the greatest possible care. Down in the holds, of +course, was a vast store of consigned foodstuffs, but he had no +authority to draw upon it and would not do so unless the ship's +own stock was exhausted. Passengers and crew, therefore, would be +obliged to go on short rations. "Better to eat sparingly now," he +said, "than not to eat at all later on." He concluded his remarks +in this fashion: + +"Remember that we are all in the same boat. We don't know how long +we'll be drifting like this and we don't know where we're drifting +to. It's an everlastingly big ocean we're on. We ought to thank God +we're not at the bottom of it now. If we're lucky we'll be picked +up soon, if not,--well, it's up to us, every one of us, to make +the best of it. We're alive, and that's certainly something. We'll +all find it easier if we keep ourselves busy. That's why I'm asking +you, one and all, to do a good day's work regularly, one way or +another, from now until relief comes. We can't have any loafers or +quitters on board this ship. That means everybody, rich and poor. +You may think I'm putting a hardship on you, seeing as how you have +paid for your passage and all that, but what I'm ordering you to +do ain't a marker to what you'd be doing if you were out there in +lifeboats, eight hundred miles from shore, and--well, we won't go +into that. We've got to make the best of it, my friends. We're up +against it good and plenty, that's the plain facts of the case. +There's no use in me saying it's all going to turn out right in +a day or so, because I don't know a da--- blamed thing about it. +We're in God's hands. Maybe it will help to pray, but I doubt it. +All I've got to say is this: go down on your knees as much as you +like, but don't lick!" + +Signor Joseppi lifted his voice, but not in song. In very bad English +he wanted to know how long the Captain thought it would be before +they were rescued, and when he was informed that it might not be +for weeks or even months, he cried out in worse English that he +was ruined. He would have to violate his contract! No impressario +would think of engaging him again! His wonderful American tour! If +he was not rescued within a week--Oh, my God, the consequences! He +did not regret the paltry two thousand a week--for thirty weeks--but +to violate a contract! + +Mr. Mott looked rather helpless. He appreciated the fact that +Signor Joseppi was a very great personage, but what was he saying? +Was it--could it be mutiny? + +"I'm sorry, Mr. Joseppi," he broke in, "but if Madame Amori is +willing to take her regular turn at making up berths, I guess it +won't hurt you to help every now and then in the dining-room." + +Signor Joseppi did not understand a word of it. He turned to the +man at his elbow for enlightenment. + +"What did he say?" he whispered. + +"He says you have a perfectly marvellous voice and that he'd give +two thousand any time to hear you sing," replied his neighbour in +excellent Italian. + +Whereupon the Signor favoured the severe-looking Mr. Mott with +a beaming smile and as deep a bow as he could make in such close +quarters. + +"A most courteous officer," he said to his neighbour. "It will +be a joy to serve him, my friend. We should, one and all, do what +he asks of us, no matter how mean the task. I, Joseppi,--you have +heard of Joseppi, my friend?--I shall be the example for all of +you. Should he say, 'Wash the dishes, Joseppi,' then will I wash +the dishes. I, Joseppi, who never washed a dish in his life. Should +he say, 'Cook the meals, Joseppi,' then will Joseppi, who never +cooked a thing in his life, then will Joseppi cook the meals. Should +he say, 'Joseppi, scrub the floor,' then will I scrub the floor. +Should he say, 'Signor, steer the ship,' then will I do my best to +steer the ship. I who have never steered a ship. So let me be your +example, my friend." + +"That's fine," said his neighbour, as they moved off together. +"But supposing he asks you to sing occasionally to amuse the rest +of us,--what then?" + +"Amuse?" cried the Signor. "Amuse?" + +"Well, then, entertain." + +The great Joseppi pursed his lips. His brows grew dark with trouble. + +"Ah, but that would be violating my contract," he said. "My +contract specifically states that under no circumstances may I--" +Then suddenly, as if renouncing a sacred principle, his brow cleared, +and he cried out: "Damn the contract! Joseppi's voice is his own. +Joseppi will do as he pleases with it. Let him but make the request, +my friend,--and Joseppi will sing till he drops from exhaustion." +Lowering his voice to a confidential undertone, he went on: "And +that, my friend, is more than you will find Careni-Amori willing +to do. There is one cold-blooded, grasping woman for you. Money! +She thinks of nothing but money. And flattery! Ah, how she thrives +on flattery. That woman, my friend, beautiful as she is, has no +more heart than a--" + +"Excuse me, please," broke in his listener, in English. "I've got +to beat it." + +He had caught sight of a slim young figure at the head of the stairs,--a +girl in a rumpled blue serge tailor-suit and a tan-coloured sport +hat pulled well down over her dark hair. He made his way through +the crowd and caught her up as she passed out on the deck. + +"I've been terribly worried about you," he began without other +greeting, planting himself in front of her. "I thought maybe you +might have--but, thank the good Lord, you weren't." + +She looked momentarily bewildered. Then she recognized him and +held out her hand. Her face was serious, unsmiling, her voice low +and tired. + +"Isn't it dreadful, Mr. Percival? What a terrible experience it +has been. Oh--and I am glad you came through safely, too. But--" +as her eyes narrowed anxiously,-"you were hurt. Your hands?" + +"I can't very well shake hands with you, Miss Clinton," said he. +"Scorched a little, that's all. You'd think it was serious, the +way they're bandaged. One of the sailors fixed them up for me last +night. I can't tell you how glad I am that you are all right. And +your aunt? Is she--" He paused. + +"Auntie is all right, Mr. Percival. She's in bed. Shock and exposure. +We were out there all night. In one of the boats. Katherine,--" her +voice shook a little,--"Katherine is gone. She leaped overboard. +I--I saw her go. I shall never forget it,--never. Aunt Julia's maid. +For, oh, so many years, Mr. Percival." She spoke in sharp, broken +sentences, as if breathless. "You must have been terribly burned. +Your hair,--your eyes, how bloodshot they are." + +"Smoke," he said succinctly. "Singed on this side only. Really +nothing serious. I got off very lightly." + +"Some of the men were frightfully burned," she said with a shudder. +"I am trying to be a nurse. There are two men in my--in my--" + +"I know," he broke in hastily. "Don't talk about it, Miss Clinton. +It's corking of you to take hold like this. Corking!" + +"Tell me about yourself. Where were you when it happened?"' + +"I hate to admit it, but I was having a bite to eat down in the +galley. You see, they'd somehow forgotten to give me anything to +eat,--in the excitement, of course,--and I had been so busy myself +it didn't occur to me to be hungry till rather late in the day. I +managed to get on deck but not until after the bombs had all gone +off. My friend, Mr. Gray,--the Chief Engineer, you know,--was down +in the engine-room. That's how I got my hands burned. Not badly, +I assure you, but--well, they may be a little scarred. You may not +know it, but Mr. Gray and I came from the same place. Baltimore. +He belonged to a fine old family there--and he'd been very kind to +me. Poor fellow! Penned in. They never had a chance down there. He +was--well, he died a few minutes after he was dragged out here on +the deck. His clothes were on fire. But let's not talk about it. +Tell me, is there anything I can do to make you more comfort-able? +Or your aunt? I'm what you might call officer of the deck at present. +Mr. Mott--" + +"You ought to be in bed, Mr. Percival," she interrupted sharply. +"Your face is burned, too,--you must be suffering terribly. Wait! +Now don't tell me you are not. I know better. I've seen those other +men who were burned. I--" + +"It's nothing, I tell you," he interrupted, almost roughly. "There +are dozens of men worse off than I am, and are they in bed? Not much. +This is no time to lie down, Miss Clinton, if you've got a leg to +stand on. See that little chap over there with his head and hands +covered with bandages,--and barely able to drag his feet after +him? He's an American jockey. I don't know his name. He was blown +twenty or thirty feet across the after-deck. Brought up at the +bottom of a companion-way. He's nothing but cuts and bruises from +head to foot. But he's around on his wobbly little pins today, just +the same, trying to edge in on some sort of a job. Couldn't keep +him in bed." + +Miss Clinton's eyes were full of wonder and incredulity. "I cannot +understand it," she said. "My cousin was with the American Ambulance +in France. He says that the slightest flesh wound sends a soldier +to the hospital." + +"They haven't any choice in the matter. Besides, it isn't the same. +Poor devils, they may have been at it in the trenches for weeks and +months. A wound of any sort means a pleasant vacation. Still," he +went on after a moment, a faint derisive smile on his lips, "we had +a big husky up in Camp who insisted on going to bed every time he +had the nosebleed." + +She was looking into his blood-shot eyes, infinite pity and concern +in her own. + +"Will you let me dress your hands, Mr. Percival, whenever it is +necessary? I am getting used to it now." + +"It's good of you, Miss Clinton," he replied gratefully. "But I +think you'd better stick to the fellows who really need attention. +Don't add an extra ounce to your burden. You'll need all of your +strength and courage to face the demands of the next few days. +Those chaps have just begun to suffer. They're going to have a tight +squeeze getting through,--if they get through at all. You have not +answered my question. Is there anything I can do for you or your +aunt?" + +"No,--not a thing," she said. "We are quite all right. As Mr. Mott +said, we are all in the same boat, Mr. Percival. We've got to make +up our minds to that. We can't have the comforts and the luxuries +we had day before yesterday. Whatever is left of them, we must +share with others." + +"Even with stowaways," he ventured, but not fatuously. + +"No one is likely to forget how our only stowaway came by his wounds," +she said simply. "Despite your modesty, I am quite certain who it +was that carried the Chief Engineer on deck, Mr. Percival. While +his clothes were burning, too." + +Percival turned his face away and many seconds passed before he +spoke. + +"By the way," he said at last, a trifle unsteadily, "at regular +intervals the gun up there in the bow is to be fired. You must not +be alarmed when it goes off. There is a chance that some ship may +hear the report. The British have a few warships down here, you +know. They would investigate if they got word of big guns being +fired anywhere in these parts. Mr. Mott will give warning when the +gun is to be fired, so that every one will understand. I--I just +thought I'd tell you." + +"Thank you. Good-bye for the present. I must get back to my wounded." + +"Keep your spirits up," he said. "That's the principal job now, +Miss Clinton. Good-bye,--and thank you." + +He watched her as she moved off down the deck. He could not help +noticing that her figure drooped perceptibly. In his mind's eye he +saw her as she was but two days before, straight, graceful, full +of the joy of living, with a stride that was free and swinging. He +recalled her lovely, inquiring grey eyes as she stared at him on +that ignominious afternoon, the parted red lips and the smile that +came to them, the smartly dressed hair, the jaunty hat, the trim +sport suit of tan-coloured jersey--he recalled the alluring picture +she made that day, and sadly shook his head. + +"Poor girl," he said to himself, and walked slowly in the opposite +direction, favouring his left leg. + +He went down to see the Captain. The old seadog was stretched out +in his berth, a look of pain and utter despair in his eyes. One of +the Russian dancers, a rather pretty girl of a distinctly Slavic +type, was cleaning up the room. The ship's doctor had just left. + +"Feeling a bit more comfortable, sir?" inquired the young man. + +"I wish you'd get this girl out of here," growled Captain Trigger +with difficulty. "I want to swear." + +"I think it would be all right to go ahead with it, sir," said +Percival. "She doesn't understand a word of English." + +The Captain shook his head. "I'll let it wait." Then, looking at +his visitor's bandaged hands: "How are your hands, my lad?" + +"Fairly easy. The doctor says the burns are not deep. Mr. Mott +asked me to step in and see you, sir, and give you my opinion as to +the bombs. You see, I've had a great deal of experience with high +explosives. There isn't the slightest doubt in my mind that you +found and got rid of the worst of them. The officer in charge of +the gun-crew agrees with me. They planted the big ones, the ones +that were to destroy the ship, down in the hold, where there was less +chance of discovery. The others, I am convinced, were much smaller. +It would have been impossible to hide a bomb of any noticeable +size in any of the places where the explosions occurred. They went +about it very cunningly, very systematically. Of course, no one saw +the bombs that exploded, but judging by the actual results, they +could not have been very powerful." + +"And I also," said the Captain, "thank God we dug out the big ones." +He scowled forlornly. "Dr. Cullen says I am in for a week of this, +Percival. You don't think so, do you?" + +Percival smiled. "I am more or less of an expert on explosives, +sir," he replied. + +"Umph," grunted Captain Trigger. "I see. Just the same, I think +I'll be up and about by tomorrow. If I were your age, young man, +you can bet I wouldn't be lying here in this bed." + +"On the other hand, if I were your age, Captain Trigger," said +Percival, "I'd probably have sense enough to do exactly what the +doctor ordered." + +Captain Trigger's mouth fell open. + +"Well, of all the damned--" he began, and then swallowed hard. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + + + +For three days and nights the Doraine drifted lazily in a calm and +rippling sea, always to the southward. The days were bright and +warm, the nights black and chill. It was the spring of the year in +that zone. Without adequate navigation instruments, Mr. Mott was +forced to rely to a great extent on speculation. He was able to +make certain calculations with reasonable accuracy, but they were +of little real significance. It was, of course, possible to determine +the general direction in which they were drifting, and the speed. +They were slowly but surely edging into the strong west wind drift. +The Falkland Islands would soon be off to the right, with South +Georgia and the Sandwich group farther to the south and east, the +southernmost tip of Africa to the left. + +Not a sail had been sighted, not a sign of smoke appeared on the +spotless horizon. At regular intervals the gun on the forward deck +boomed thrice in quick succession, startling the lifeless hulk into +a sort of spasmodic vitality. Then she would sink back once more +into the old, irksome lethargy, incapable of resisting the gentlest +wave, submissive to the whim of the slightest breeze. The ship's +carpenter and his men were making slow headway in the well-nigh +impossible task of repairing the rudder. Attempts were being made to +rig up makeshift sails to replace those licked from the supplemental +spars by flames that had earned considerable progress along the +roof of the upper deck building before they were subdued. Blackened, +charred masts and yards, stripped of rigging, reared themselves like +pines at the edge of a fire-swept forest. Sail-makers and riggers +laboured stubbornly, but the work was slow and the means of +restoration limited. + +The occupants of the derelict had settled down to a dull, almost +dogged state of resignation. There were several deaths and burials, +incidents that made but little impression on the waiting, watchful +survivors. Each succeeding day brought forth additional watchers +to swell the anxious throng,--resolute and sometimes ungovernable +men who, defying their wounds and the nurses, refused to stay where +they could not have a hand in all that was going on. + +Back of all this pitiful courage, however, lurked the unholy fear +that they might be left to their fate in case the ship had to be +hurriedly abandoned. + +Mr. Mott watched the weather. Every seaman on board the Doraine +scanned the cloudless sky with searching, anxious eyes. They sniffed +the steady wind that blew them farther south. Always they scanned +the sky and sniffed the wind. + +"It's got to come sometime," repeated Captain Trigger, after each +report from Mr. Mott. + +"I've known weather like this to last for weeks," said the First +Officer. + +"In the South Pacific, yes," said the Captain grimly. "But we're +in the South Atlantic, Mott." + +On the sixth day the barometer began to fall. The breeze stiffened. +The sea became choppy, and white-caps danced fitfully over the +greenish stretches, growing wilder and wilder under the whip of +a flouting wind. The two patchwork sails on the lumbering Doraine +flapped noisily for awhile, as if shaking off their tor-por, +then suddenly grew taut and fat with prosperity. The twisted, +half-jammed rudder,--far from worthy despite the efforts of its +repairers,--whiningly obeyed the man at the wheel, and once more +the ship felt the caress of the deep on her cleaving bows. + +The horizon to the north and west seemed to draw nearer, the contrast +between the deepening blue of the water and the clear azure of +the contracting dome more sharply defined. The sky that had been +cloudless for days still remained barren, but the sailor knew what +lay beyond the clear-cut rim of the world. The man of the sea could +look far beyond the horizon. He could see the ugly clouds that were +even now speeding down from the north, invisible as yet but soon +to creep into view; he could see the mighty billows on the other +side of that distant line; he could hear the roar and shriek of the +tempest that was still hundreds of miles away. It was the matter +of but a few hours before the wind and the billows would rush up to +smite the Doraine with all their might under the cover of a black +and storm-rent sky. And what was to become of the vessel, floundering +in the path of the hurricane? + +Late afternoon brought the forerunner of the gale, a whistling, +howling squall that frantically strove, it would seem, to outrace +the baleful clouds. Then the Doraine was in the thick of the furious +revel of sea and sky, plunging, leaping, rolling like a monstrous +cork.... + +How she managed to weather the storm, God knows, and He alone. At +the mercy of wave and wind, she was tossed and hammered and racked +for two frightful days and nights, and yet she remained afloat, +battered, smashed, raked from stem to stern, stripped of everything +the tempest could wrench from her in its fury. And yet on the +third day, when the storm abated, the sturdy ship was still riding +the waves, flayed but un-conquered, and the baffled sea was licking +the sides of her once more with servile though deceitful tenderness. + +But there was water in the hold. The ship was leaking badly. + +Up from the stifling interior straggled the unhappy inmates. They +looked again upon the unbelievable: a smiling, dancing sea of blue +under a canopy clean and spotless. It was unbelievable. Even the +stouthearted Captain and the faithful mate, blear-eyed and haggard +from loss of sleep, were filled with wonder. + +"I can't understand it," muttered Mr. Mott a dozen times that day, +shaking his head in a bewildered sort of way. "I can't understand +how she did it. By right, she ought to be at the bottom of the +ocean, and here she is on top of it, same as ever." + +"Do you believe in God, Mr. Mott?" asked the Captain solemnly. + +"I do," said Mr. Mott emphatically. After a moment he added: "I've +been a long time coming to it, Captain Trigger, but I do. Nothing +short of an Almighty Being could have steered this ship for the +past two days." + +The Captain nodded his head slowly, his gaze fixed on something +above and far beyond the horizon. + +"I suppose it's too much to ask of Him, though," said he, audibly +completing a thought. + +Mr. Mott evidently had been thinking of the same thing, for he +said: + +"I'm sorry to say it's gained about two feet on the pumps since +last night." + +Captain Trigger's face was very grave. "That means a couple of days +more at the outside." His eyes rested speculatively on the three +lifeboats still hanging above the starboard rail. There was another +being repaired on the port side. "More than six hundred of us on +board, Andrew." His head dropped suddenly, his chin twitched. Mr. +Mott looked away. + +"I don't believe it will come to that," said he, an odd note +of confidence in his voice. "'Tain't likely, old friend, that God +would see us safely through all we've had to tackle and then desert +us in the end. Something's bound to turn up. I've a feeling,--a +queer feeling,--that we're going to pull out of this all right. I +know it looks mighty hopeless, but--" + +"Just the same, Mr. Mott," broke in the Captain, lifting his head +and setting his jaw, "you'd better set all available hands to work on +the rafts immediately. It's true God has helped us through a lot, +but it strikes me we'd better be on the safe side and help God +a little at this stage of the game. He is wonderful, Andrew, but +He isn't wonderful enough to keep man afloat very long unless man +himself builds the raft. So don't lose a minute." + +Anxious, inquiring eyes followed the Captain and his First Officer +wherever they went. On all sides were silent, beaten people who +asked no questions, for they were afraid of the answers. Sick, dazed, +haggard, they stared hopelessly, drearily out over the water; for +all that their faces revealed the end was near at hand and they +cared but little. They had been through one hell; death could bring +nothing worse. + +Here and there a stout-hearted optimist appeared among them, but +his very cheerfulness seemed to offend. They did not want to hear +his silly, stupid predictions that something was "sure to turn +up." They knew that water was coming into the hold; they knew that +there were but four lifeboats and seven hundred men and women; they +knew that the Doraine was going down in a very few hours; they knew +that the Captain had given up all hope of rescue. Nothing could +"turn up" now but death. + +Madame Obosky had taken a great fancy to Algernon Adonis Percival, and +for a most peculiar reason. He had, it appears, abused her roundly +on the first night of the storm for venturing on deck against +orders, compelling him to risk what he considered a very precious +life in a successful effort to drag her back to safety. As a +matter of fact, he did not drag her back to safety. That feat was +accomplished by two sailors who managed to reach both of them before +another devastating wave came up to tear his grip loose from the +broken rail to which he clung with one bandaged hand while he kept +her from sliding into the sea with the other. + +He was very angry. In the first place, his hands hurt him dreadfully, +and in the second place she had forced him to disobey orders by +going out to save her. He did not mutter his complaints. He told +her in plain and violent English what he thought of her, and if +she went out there again he'd be damned happy to let her drown. + +Now, it had been some time since any man had had the hardihood or +temerity to upbraid Madame Obosky. No male had cursed her since she +left Petrograd,--and that was four years ago. She had been cursed +often enough by her own sex,--professionally, of course,--but +the men she had encountered since leaving Russia were either too +chivalrous or too cowardly to abuse her, and she missed it terribly. + +She had gone through a very hard school in order to become one of +the principal dancers in her land. Teachers had cursed her, teachers +had beaten her,--and they always were men. + +When she was eighteen she married a lion-tamer. Who would have +thought that a man who trained lions could be gentle and mild, +and as tame as the beasts he had beaten for years? She was barely +nineteen when he died, quite suddenly. There was a dark rumour that +she had poisoned him. True or false, the rumour persisted, and she +soon became one of the most popular dancers in the Empire. For three +years she had a manager who treated her so vilely, so contemptuously +that she tried to kill his wife, whereupon the unnatural husband +refused to have anything more to do with her. + +She was dancing in Germany when the War broke out, but succeeded +in getting over into Holland within a week or two, thereby escaping +what she was pleased to describe as "something zat no woman could +endure, no matter how long she have live' in Russia." Paris and London +had treated her kindly, courteously, but that was to be expected, +she repined, because all of the real men were off at the front +fighting. Instead of being scowled at and ordered about by managers +and orchestra leaders, or brow-beaten by hotel-clerks and head-waiters, +she met with nothing but the most servile politeness,--due, she +was prone to argue, to the unquestioned decadence of the French +and English races. They were a bloodless lot, those Frenchmen and +Englishmen. + +It was the same in Rio Janeiro, Buenos Aires and Santiago,--and +it would be even worse in New York, Chicago and San Francisco. The +Americans, she had heard, were the worst of them all. They didn't +know the first thing about the majesty of sex. The Indian, she +understood, was an exception. From all accounts, he knew how to +treat his woman. + +She was homesick. Her heart leaped with joy when she discovered in +Percival what she believed to be a domineering, masterful man. He +had been neither servile, nor polite, nor afraid. He had treated +her,--at least for an illuminating, transcendent ten minutes,--as +if she were the dirt under his feet,--and he was an American at that. +True, he had apologized a little later on, and had blushed quite +becomingly in doing so, but nothing,--nothing in the world,--would +ever make her believe that he was not the sort of man who could be +depended upon to put a woman in her place and keep her there. He +might apologize until he was black in the face and still be unable +to take back the words he had uttered. Notwithstanding that he, +in his apology, professed to have mistaken her in the darkness for +one of the Portuguese immigrant women who didn't understand a word +of English, she forgave him quite humbly, and that was going pretty +far for Olga Obosky, whose identity ought not to have been a matter +of doubt, even on the darkest of nights. + +She was a lithe, perfectly formed young woman, beautiful in an +unusual way. Her body was as sinuous as that of a woodland nymph. +Indeed, in one of her most spectacular dances, she appeared as a +nymph, barefooted, bare-legged, and,--as Mrs. Spofford caustically +remarked,--bare-faced. She possessed the marvellously clear, +colourless complexion found only among the purely Slavic women. +Her lips were red and sensuous, her eyes darkly mysterious and +brooding, her hair as black as the raven's wing. + +When she smiled her face became strikingly alive, radiant, +transforming her into a jolly, good-natured, wholesome girl in whom +not the faintest trace of the carnal was left. Every move, every +thought, every impulse was feminine; her imagination was feminine; +she cast the spell of her femininity over all with whom she came in +contact. Primitively sensuous, she was also primitively wary,--and +so she was ineffably feminine. + +Prior to the time of her dramatic encounter with the American, she +had favoured him with no more than a glance or two of curiosity. +He was a stowaway; for a brief while he was suspected of being +involved in the plot to blow up the ship. That was enough for her. +Twice she had seen Miss Clinton talking with him, and once, just +before the storm set in, she had paused to watch the young American +girl renew the bandages on his hands after dressing the burns. Half +an hour after he had apologized for speaking so roughly to her, +she decided that it was her duty to hunt him up and minister to +him. The ship was rolling terribly, the din of the elements was +deafening, but Olga Obosky was not a faint-hearted person. She went +forth boldly, confidently. Terrified, clinging observers marvelled +at her sure-footedness, at the graceful way in which her sinuous +body bent itself to the perilous heavings of the vessel. + +She found him in the reading-room, seated in a corner. Miss Clinton +was readjusting the bandage on one of his hands. Half a dozen people +were in the room, manfully defying the turmoil that had sent nearly +every one else to bed in terror and distress. Without hesitation +the dancer joined the couple in the corner. Her smile was engaging; +a faint line between her eyebrows signified the concern she felt +for him. + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +Miss Clinton looked up from her work. Her smile was politely +accusative,--and brief. + +"It is all my fault," began Madame Obosky, standing before them, +her feet wide apart, her knees bent slightly to meet the varying +slants and lurches of the vessel. She spoke the English language +confidently and well. Her accent, which was scarcely noticeable, +betrayed the fact that she had mastered French long before attempting +English. There was a piquant boldness in the occasional misplacing +of words and in the haphazard construction of sentences. She was +unafraid. + +"I have subject him to much pain and discomfort," she went on, +addressing the girl. "Those poor hand! It is I who should kiss +them, Mademoiselle, not you." + +"Kiss them?" gasped Miss Clinton. + +"Of no doubt," said Madame Obosky readily. "Do they not pain because +of me? Should I not kiss the hand who snatch me from the horrible +death? From the Kingdom Come, as the doctor he say to me such a +little time ago. And you, Mademoiselle, who have not been save by +him from the Kingdom Come, you attend his hands and make him to be +greatly comfortable." + +"I am merely dressing the burns, Madame Obosky," said the other, +coldly. "I have done as much for the other poor fellows who--" + +"I know, I know," broke in the Russian, smiling. "You must not be +offend with me if I speak your language so badly." + +"It strikes me you speak it most acceptably," interposed Percival. + +"What is your name?" she asked abruptly. "I have heard you called +the stowaway. No one has speak your name to me." + +"My name is Percival," said he. + +"It is a pretty name," said she, dubiously. "But surelv you do +not approve of me to call you Percival so quick. What is the other +name, the name I am to--" + +"That's the trouble with a name like mine. It sounds so beastly +informal when you leave off the Mister, and it sounds as if you'd +been a servant in the family for at least one generation if you +stick it on. If you could only call me Monsieur Percival, or Senor +Percival, or even Herr Percival, it wouldn't seem so bad, but Mister +Percival,--well, it's pretty soft, isn't it, Miss Clinton?" + +"Please hold your hand still, Mr. Percival," ordered the girl. She +smiled up at the puzzled dancer. "His name is Mr. Percival, Madame +Obosky. That's the poor creature's last name." + +"Oh, I see. Then even you, Mademoiselle, may not call him Percival?" + +"No, I do not call him Percival." + +"You see, she's known me such a very short time," explained the +subject of these remarks. + +For a few moments Madame Obosky watched the bandaging process in +silence. When she spoke again it was to say: + +"You are so skilful, so gentle, Mademoiselle. I am taking a lesson +in gentleness from you." + +"It is quite simple, Madame. I am very awkward. I have had no +experience. But if we ever live to see home again, I shall prepare +myself at once for work in France. We are needed over there. We +will be needed more than ever, now that America has gone in. Our +own soldiers are over there, God bless them." + +Madame Obosky gave her a pitying look. + +"You may thank your God that you do not live in a land of soldiers, +Mademoiselle. If you did, you would not be so eager to nurse them +back to life. Do I shock you? Voila! When you train a boy to be a +soldier, as the boys are trained in my country and in Germany, you +make an animal of him,--and not a very nice animal at that. You +nurse him back to life and strength and in return for your kindness +he outrages you, and goes his way rejoicing. No, I do not like the +soldiers." + +Miss Clinton did not look up. Percival stared at the Russian for +a moment and then observed: + +"I don't think you can say that of the French or the English, +Madame." + +She shrugged her shoulders. "Quite true. But the French and +the English, Mr. Percival, are decadent races," she said coolly, +as if there were nothing more to be said on the subject. "Please, +Mademoiselle," she went on, briskly, "will you not let me see how +you have prepared his hands? I mean, how have you,--is it right to +say fixed them?" + +"Dressed them, you mean, Madame Obosky." + +"I see. First you undress them, then you dress them, is it not so?" + +Ruth Clinton laughed. The woman was quaint. + +"I am about to begin on the left hand. You may watch me, if you +care to do so." + +"Will it not make you embarrass?" + +"Why should I be embarrassed?" inquired Ruth, flushing. + +"I have said the wrong word," lamented the other. "Nervous,--zat,--that +is the word." + +"They're not very lovely things to look at," said Percival. "All +red and blistery and greasy. Miss Clinton is a regular heroine to +tackle 'em." + +"I have witnessed some very terrible sights, Mr. Percival," said the +Russian, her eyes narrowing. "Have you ever seen a little Jewish +girl,--but no, Mademoiselle, no! I have catch the look in your eyes. +I shall not tell you what I have seen. Go on! I shall be silent +and take my first lesson." + +Closely, intently she watched the process. When it was all over and +the bottle containing ointment had been restored to the patient's +pocket, she spread out her hands and exclaimed: + +"It is not difficult. May I inquire where the gauze bandages are +to be obtained, Miss Clinton? And do you always use the same safety +pins?" + +She arose early the next morning. Rousing her maid, she ordered +her to apply to the ship's surgeon for bandages and to fetch them +to her at once. + +"I know,--yes, I know. You are dying, but do as I tell you. This +instant! Why should you, a great hulking beast of a woman, be dying +every minute of the day while I, not half your size, am tingling +all over with life? Go!" + +"But, Madame," groaned the wretched woman, rolling her eyes, "I +shall be dashed to pieces against the walls. I cannot stand. My +legs will not hold me up. They--" + +"Enough! That is no excuse. My legs manage to hold me up." + +"But, Madame, it is my legs I am speaking of. My legs are not like +yours." + +"Any fool can see that," retorted her mistress, and the ungainly +maid staggered out on her mission. + +Later on, supplied with a roll of gauze, Madame Obosky set out in +quest of her preserver. Even the veterans among the seamen gazed +upon her in wondering admiration as she made her way about the ship. +She was a revelation to them. The increasing fury of the storm had +driven all save the hardiest sailors and a few of the non-praying +male passengers to their rooms. Now and then one or two of the +courageous, devoted nurses appeared in the corridors, reeling from +patient to patient, but except for them the ship seemed entirely +bereft of women. Small wonder then that the lithe, undaunted +Russian created a sensation among the sailors who themselves were +cold with dread. + +She discovered him at last, coming up the steps from the devastated +engine room. He was with Mr. Mott and several other half-dressed +men. Their faces were grave,--more serious than ever. They had been +down to investigate the leak. Percival was stripped to the waist. +The glare of the lanterns fell upon his broad shoulders and powerful +arms, bronzed and burnished by the sun of the high hills. + +"Come," she said, laying her hand on one of his brawny arms, "I +have with me the bandages." She sent a swift glance over him, and +smiled. "But I see you have not the bottle. Is it in your cabin, +Mr. Percivail?" + +He flushed darkly under his coat of tan. His companions stared for +a moment, and then went on. + +"I am busy," he said. "I haven't the time now, Madame Obosky. Thank +you, just the same." Then a sense of loyalty to the girl who had +been kind to him impelled him to add: "Besides, Miss Clinton has +been taking care of my hands. She has got used to dressing them, +so I--" + +"But it is my duty now," she protested. "She owes so little to +you and I so much. Come, let us procure the lotion. Where is your +cabin?" + +He held back. "You can't go to my cabin." + +"And why not?" she exclaimed, in surprise. "Does not Miss Clinton +go to your cabin?" + +"No, she does not!" + +"But she goes to the cabins of other men who are wounded. I have +see her with my own eyes." + +"That's different. They can't come to her." + +She looked searchingly into his eyes. + +"I see," she said after a moment. "You are in love with her." + +"Ridiculous," he exclaimed, scowling. + +"And so you prefer to have her fix your hands. I see, my friend. +Voila! If so is the case, I am outcast." + +"But, confound it, it isn't the case," he cried. "It's simply this: +I wouldn't for the world have her feel that I am not grateful, and +that's exactly what it would look like if I allowed you or any one +else to butt in, Madame Obosky." + +"Butt in?" she said, a puzzled look in her dark eyes. "What is +that?" + +"It's English for interfere," said he, shortly. + +She removed her hand from his arm. He was conscious of the abrupt +termination of an exquisite thrill. + +"Very well," she said, lifting her chin. "I shall not interfere." + +"Forgive me, please," he said. "It's mighty good of you. Please +don't think me ungracious. You understand, however,--don't you?" + +"No, I do not," she replied, shaking her head slowly. Suddenly her +eyes widened. "Is it because I dance in my bare feet, in my bare +legs, that you think so vilely of me?" + +He stared. "Good Lord! I don't think vilely of you, Madame Obosky. +I wasn't even aware that you danced in your bare feet and legs." + +"You have never seen Obosky dance?" she cried in astonishment. + +"Never." + +She frowned. "Then, my friend, I was wrong in what I say just now. +Most men who have seen me dance think I am a bad woman, and so they +either covet me or despise me. If you have not had ze pleasure of +seeing me, Mr. Percivail, you do not either covet me or despise +me. That is fine. It is good to know that you do not despise me." +Observing the expression in his eyes, she went on calmly. "Oh, yes, +I shall be very much please to have you covet me. Zat--that is all +right. But if you despise me,--no, no, zat would be terrible." + +For a moment he was dashed. He did not know how to take her remark. +She was a new, a strange type to him. After a sharp, quick look +into her eyes, however, he came to the conclusion that she was +absolutely sincere. So far as she was concerned, it was as if she +had said nothing more outrageous than: "I shall be please to consider +you one of my admirers." + +"My dear Madame," he said, smiling, "permit me to express the hope +that both of us may go on to the end of our days without having +our peace of mind disturbed." + +She looked puzzled for a moment, and then favoured him with her +broad, good-natured smile. + +WEST WIND DRIFT 85 + +"Spoken like a Frenchman," she cried, and added, "and with equal +sincerity, I fear. Go your way, Monsieur Percivail. I shall keep +my gauze. Some day when we are very old people and very old friends +I may then be permitted to bandage your hands. At present, however, +the risk is too great, eh? I am so inexperience. I might by accident +tie your hands in my clumsiness, and zat--that would make so much +trouble for Miss Clinton to untie zem,--yes?" + +Now there was mockery in her eyes. His face hardened. + +"I must be on my way," he said curtly. "We have been looking things +over down below. The Captain is waiting for our report." + +He bowed and started off. She swung along at his side. + +"What have you discover, Mr. Percivail?" she inquired anxiously. + +"That, Madame Obosky, is something that will have to come from +Captain Trigger." + +"I see. That means it is bad. I see." + +The lurching of the ship threw her body against his. She righted +herself promptly, but did not reveal the slightest confusion nor +utter a word of apology. + +"By Jove, you're a cool one!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe you +know the meaning of fear. Don't you realize, Madame Obosky, that +we are in the gravest peril? Don't you know this ship has but one +chance in a thousand to pull through?" + +"Ah, my friend, but it has the one chance, has it not? Surely I know +the meaning of fear. I am afraid of rats and snakes and thieves--and +drunken soldiers. I am afraid of death,--terribly afraid of death. +Oh, yes, I know what fear is, Mr. Percivail." + +"Then, why don't you show it now?" he cried. "Good Lord, I don't +mind confessing that I'm scared half to death. I don't want to die +like this,--like a rat in a trap." + +"But you are not going to die," she proclaimed. "I too would be +groaning and praying in my bed if I thought we were going down to +the bottom of zis dreadful ocean. But we are not. I have no fear. +We shall come out all right on top, and some day we will laugh +and tell funny stories about how everybody else was frightened but +us,--us apiece, I mean." + +"Well, you're a wonder! And how the deuce do you manage to keep +your feet with the ship rolling like this?" + +"Two things I have been taught, since I am ten years old. First, +to keep my head, and second to keep my feet. In my profession, one +must do both. You will always find me doing that. Good-bye,--we +part here. You will not forget zat--that I have retain the bandage +for you? And you will not ever despise me?" + +As she turned away a roll that must have caused the wallowing vessel +to list thirty-five degrees at the very least, sent her headlong +across the passage. She slipped down in a heap. The same lurch had +sent him reeling against the wall some distance away. She sat up but +did not at once attempt to arise. Instead she clutched frantically +at her skirt to draw it down over her shapely ankles and calves. +In the lantern light he saw the dismayed, shamed look in her eyes +and the vivid blush of embarrassment that suffused her pale cheeks. +As the ship rolled back, he moved forward to assist her, but she +sprang lightly to her feet and hurried on ahead of him, disappearing +around a corner. + +"Well, by gosh!" he muttered aloud in his surprise. "And she dances +half naked before thousands of people every night! Can you beat it! +The last person in the world you'd think would care a whoop, and +she turns out to be as finicky about her legs as your grandmother. +Women certainly are queer." + +With this profound comment on the inconsistency of the sex, he took +himself off in the direction of the Captain's quarters,--a forward +cabin which served in lieu of the dismantled bridge. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + + + + +He saw but little of her during the next forty-eight hours. She +seemed to avoid him. At any other time and in other circumstances +he undoubtedly would have resented her indifference,--a very common +and natural masculine failing,--but in these strenuous hours he +was too fully occupied with the affairs of life and death. Once +she stopped him to inquire if Miss Clinton was still able to dress +his wounds. + +"Once a day," he replied. "She's even pluckier than you are, Madame +Obosky." + +Her eyes narrowed. "Indeed?" + +"Yes, because she believes we are going to die--every one of us. +It takes pluck to keep going when you've got that sort of thing to +face, doesn't it?" + +Her gesture took in the dozen or more men within range of her +vision. "It should take no more pluck to keep a woman going than a +man, my friend. You do not call yourself plucky, do you? I do not +call myself plucky. On the contrary, I call myself a coward. I am +afraid to stay in my stateroom. I like to be out in the open like +zis. One has to be very, very brave, Mr. Percivail, to lie in +one's bed all alone and think that death is waiting just outside +the thin little walls. Miss Clinton is splendid, but she is not +plucky. She is as I am: afraid of the darkness, afraid to be alone, +afraid to be where she cannot know and see all zat is happening. +She has a woman's courage, just as I have it,--if you please. It +is the courage that depends so much on the courage of others. You +think I am brave. I am brave because I am with trained, efficient +men. But if the Captain were to come to me now as I stand here, and +say zat the ship is to sink in ten minutes and that we all must go +down with her, would I face it bravely? No! I would throw myself +down on the floor and scream and pray and tear my hair. Why? Because +the men had given up. I am kept up by the courage of others. That +is the courage of woman. She must be supported in her pain, in her +suffering, in her courage." + +"Well, if you put it that way, there are very few men who would +take such an announcement from the Captain calmly." + +"Perhaps not, my friend. But if there were room for but few in the +boats, who would stay behind and go down with the ship? Nine out +of every ten of the men. Why? Not because they are all courageous, +I grant you, but because of the horrible conceit that makes them +our masters. Pride and conceit constitute what stands for courage +in most men. The wild animal has no conceit, he has no pride. Does +the male lion rush out to be shot in place of his mate? He do not. +He sneaks off in the high reeds and leaves her to take care of +herself. The Captain of this steamer is so full of pride zat he +will stay on it till it goes under the wave. It is not courage, Mr. +Percivail. It is his pride in the power zat--that God has give to +his sex. These men here,--you, my friend,--face the danger now so +unflinching for why? Because for ages and ages you have believe +in and depend upon the man beside you, the men around you. Zat is +the difference between man and woman. Woman believes in and depends +on man. She has no faith in her own sex. So, you see, my friend, +when I say I am brave and you say Miss Clinton is plucky, it is +all because we have men about us who are so proud and conceited zat +they will die before they will admit that they are not as helpless +and as weak as we are in times like zis." + +"You may be right," he mused, struck by her argument. "It's usually +pride that makes a man stand up and fight another, even when he +knows he's sure to be beaten. It's neither confidence nor courage. +It's just plain fear of being a coward." + +"You will admit then that I understand the wonderful male animal +which struts on two legs and rules all the other animals of the +world, eh? It is the only animal in the whole big world zat--that +is completely satisfied with itself. So now, Mr. Percivail, you +have the secret of the so-called courage of the male of our species." + +"I hope all women haven't gone into the subject so deeply," he +said, with a rueful smile. "You make rather small potatoes of us." + +"Ah, do not say that," she cried, "for, alas, I am denied potatoes." + +"Well, then," he said, laughing, "if all women understood us as +well as you do, we wouldn't rule the world very much longer. They'd +yank us off the pedestal and revile us forevermore." + +"But you do not understand women, my friend. Did we not bring you +into the world? Are you not our sons, and therefore begotten to +be kings? We may despise our husbands, we may loathe our brothers +and our fathers, we women, but our sons are the gods we worship. +My dear Mr. Percivail, women will go on being ruled to the end of +time unless they cease populating the world with sons. The mother +of the man is the humblest subject of the son and yet the proudest. +The mothers of kings, of emperors, of presidents,--do they think +of them as kings, emperors, presidents? No. They think of them +as sons. That is why man is supreme. That is why he rules. To be +sure, we women are not always disposed to have our husbands rule, +we even go so far as to say they are not fit to rule, but alas, the +men we are permitted to know the best of all are always the sons +of some one else, and so there you have the endless chain. Sons! +Sons! Sons! Sons to create new sons,--sons without end, amen! God +bless our sons!" + +"And I say God bless our mothers!" + +"In that one little sentence, Mr. Percivail, spoke from the heart, +you have reveal the secret history of the world. You have account +for everything." + +"You are a million years old, Madame Obosky," he said, looking into +her deep, unfathomable eyes. + +She smiled. "So? And which of my sons, Mr. Percivail, do you think +I love the most? Cain or Abel?" + +"It would take a woman to answer that question. There's one thing +certain, however. You loved both of them more than you loved Adam." + +"True. But I followed Adam out of the Garden of Eden and I have +never left his heels from zat day to this. What more could any man +ask?" + +On the second morning after the storm, the lookout fixed his +straining eyes on a far-distant, shadowy line that had not been a +part of the boundless horizon the day before. Dawn was breaking, +night was lifting her sheet from the new-born day. He waited. +He could not be sure. Minutes that seemed like hours passed. Then +suddenly his hoarse shout rose out of the silence: + +"Land ho!" + +Down into the heart of the ship boomed the cry, taken from +the lookout's lips by one after another of the weary men below. +The sweating, exhausted toilers who manned the pumps paused for a +moment, then fell to work again revitalized. Out from the cabins, +up from every nook and corner of the ship scrambled the excited +horde, fully dressed, their faces haggard with doubt, their eyes aglow +with joy. Land! In every round little window gleamed a face,--for +a moment only along the portside. Nothing but the same endless +ocean on the port side of the ship. Water! Sick and wounded drew +themselves up to the portholes and peered out from their cells for +the first time. + +"Where?... Where?" ran the wild, eager cry of the scurrying throng, +and there was disappointment--bitter disappointment in their voices. +They had been tricked. There was no land in sight! The glasses of +the ship's officers, clustered far forward, were directed toward +some point off the starboard bow, but if there was land over there +it was not visible to the naked eye. A junior engineer saluted +Captain Trigger and left the group. + +"There is land ahead,--a long way off," he announced as he passed +through the throng in the saloon deck. + +Up above the clamour of questions shouted from all sides as the +crazed people flocked behind the messenger of hope, rose the voice +of Morris Shine. + +"Land ahoy! Ahoy-yoy-yoy!" he yelled over and over again, his chin +raised like that of a dog baying at the moon. + +Every person on deck was either carrying a life-belt or was already +encased in one. Grim orders of the night just past. Here and there +were to be seen men who clutched tightly the handles of suitcases +and kit bags! Evidently they were expecting to step ashore at once. +In any case, they belonged to the class of people who never fail +to crowd their way down the gang-plank ahead of every one else. +The fashionable ocean liners always have quite a number of these +on board, invariably in the first cabin. + +Percival ranged the decks in quest of Ruth Clinton. She was well +aft on the boat deck, where the rail was not so crowded as it was +forward. Her arm was about the drooping, pathetic figure of her +aunt. They were staring intently out over the water,--the girl's +figure erect, vibrant, alive with the spirit of youth, her companion's +sagging under the doubt and scepticism of age. He hesitated a +moment before accosting them. Nicklestick, the Jew, was excitedly +retailing the news to them. He went so far as to declare that he +could see land quite clearly,--and so could they if they would only +look exactly where he was pointing. He claimed to have been one of +the very first men on board to see the land. + +Ruth was hatless. Her braided brown hair had been coiled so hastily, +so thoughtlessly that stray strands fell loose about her neck and +ears to be blown gaily by the breeze across her cheek. Her blouse +was open at the neck, her blue serge jacket flared in the wind. +Every vestige of the warm, soft colour had left her face. She was +deathly pale with emotion. + +Percival was suddenly conscious of a mist bedimming his eyes. + +Several people were grouped near them at the rail, listening to +Nicklestick. The stowaway joined them. As if sensing his presence, +Ruth turned suddenly and saw him. + +"Oh!" she cried, tremulously. "Have--have you seen it, Mr. Percival?" + +"No," he replied. "It won't be visible for an hour or so longer. +It's off there all right, though. The lookout, Captain Trigger and +several others got a glimpse of it before the sun began to pull the +mist up to obscure it for a little while. That's mist over there," +he went on, turning to Nicklestick. "You couldn't see the Andes +Mountains if they were where that strip of land is hidden. It won't +be long, Miss Clinton, before we all can see it." + +"How far away is it?" she asked, controlling her voice with an +effort. "Do they know? Can they estimate?" + +"I'll tell you what let's do," he said abruptly. "Let's go up on +the sun deck. I've got Mr. Gray's glasses. We can see better up +there. Let me assist you, Mrs. Spofford. The sun deck is pretty +badly smashed up and littered with all sorts of wreckage, but we +can manage it all right." + +Mrs. Spofford looked at him intently for a moment. + +"I remember you now," she said. "Are you sure,--are you positive +there is land over there?" + +"I have Captain Trigger's word for it." + +"And mine, too," added Mr. Nicklestick. "You may rest assured, Mrs. +Spofford, that we will all be on dry land before many hours." + +Percival leaned close to the speaker and said in a very low but +emphatic tone: + +"You don't know a damn thing about it, so keep your trap closed. +If you're a man, you won't go on raising false hopes in the breasts +of these women." + +Nicklestick's jaw fell. He whispered: + +"My God,--ain't we--you don't mean to say there is a chance we +won't be able to--" + +But Percival had turned away with the two women. Mrs. Spofford took +his arm, leaning heavily against him. Her figure had straightened, +however. He had given her the needed confidence. + +They made their way up the steps leading to the topmost deck. Others +had already preceded them. A dozen men and women were looking out +over the sea through their binoculars. They recognized Landover, +Madame Careni-Amori (clutching her jewel case), Joseppi, Fitts and +one or two more. Olga Obosky was well forward, seated on the edge +of a partially wrecked skylight and ventilator. Her three dancing +girls were with her, closely grouped. + +Percival purposely remained near the steps. He knew full well that +the ship's hours were numbered. It was only a question of time +when she would founder. In the lee of one of the big stacks they +huddled close together and waited for the lifting of the veil. The +wind was soft but strong up there at the top of the vessel. He +took hope in the fact that it was blowing toward the shores of that +unseen land, and that slowly but surely the Doraine was drifting +thither. + +Suddenly, as if a curtain were being raised, a far-off line appeared +on the surface of the waters. Higher rose the curtain, and like +magic the line developed into an irregular ridge, the ends of which +sank below the horizon far to the right and left. + +Percival felt the girl's hand on his arm. He shot a swift glance +at her face. It was turned away. She staring at the mystic panorama +that was being unveiled off there on the rim of the world. Her eyes +were bright, her lips were parted in the ecstasy of hope revived, +she was breathing deeply. The pulse in her smooth white neck was +beating rapidly, rythmically. He could see it. He laid his bandaged +hand firmly upon hers and pressed it tightly to his arm. She did +not look around. Her every thought was centred upon the unfolding +vision. + +"There are trees," she murmured, enthralled. "Trees,--and hills! +See, Auntie,--but oh, how far away they are!" + +For many minutes they stood there without speaking. Then from all +sides came the clamour of voices,--shouts of joy, cheers,--laughter! +She looked down at the clumsy object that imprisoned her hand, then +swiftly up into his eyes. A warm flush spread over her face. + +"I--I couldn't help it," he muttered. "It--it looked so helpless." + +"It isn't half as helpless as yours, Mr. Percival," she said, and +smiled. She waited a moment before withdrawing her hand. "May I +have the glasses, please? Had you forgotten them?" + +"Completely," he replied. + +Later, while Mrs. Spofford was peering through the glasses, she +drew him aside. + +"Tell me about the water in the hold," she said in a low tone. "Is +it serious?" + +He looked grave. "Very. If you will take a peep over the side of +the ship, you'll see how low down she is in the water." + +"My aunt doesn't know the ship is leaking," she went on, hurriedly. +"I want to keep it from her as long as possible." He nodded his +head. + +"Mr. Mott figures we'll stay afloat for ten or twelve hours,--maybe +longer. I will see to it that you and Mrs. Spofford get into one +of the boats in case we--well, just in case, you know. We will be +given ample warning, Miss Clinton. Things don't look as hopeless +as they did last night." He pointed toward the land. "It looks like +heaven, doesn't it?" + +Her face clouded. "But only a very few of us may--" she stopped, +shuddering. + +"You poor little girl!" he cried brokenly. He steadied himself and +went on: "It wouldn't surprise me in the least if every blessed +one of us got safely ashore." + +"You do not believe that, Mr. Percival. I can tell by the look in +your eyes. I want you to promise me one thing. If we have to take +to the boats, you will come with us--" + +He drew himself up. "My dear Miss Clinton, there is quite +a difference between being a stowaway on an ocean liner and being +one in a lifeboat. I have no standing on this ship. I have no +right in one of her boats. I am the very last person on board to +be considered." + +She looked searchingly into his eyes, her own wide with comprehension. +"You mean you will make no effort to leave the ship until every +one else is--" + +He checked her with a gesture of his hand. "I may be one of the +first to leave. But I'll not rob any one else of his place in a +boat or his space on one of those rafts. I'll swim for it." + +Slowly the land crept down upon the Doraine. The illusion +was startling. The ship seemed to be lying absolutely motionless; +it was the land that approached instead of the other way round. A +thin white beach suddenly emerged from the green background to the +left, to the right an ugly mass of rocks took shape, stretching as +far as the eye could reach. Farther inland rose high, tree covered +hills, green as emeralds in the blazing sunlight. On a sea of +turquoise lolled the listless Doraine. + +Soundings were taken from time to time. Even the bottom of the ocean +was coming up to meet the Doraine. Its depth appreciably lessened +with each successive measurement. From fifty fathoms it had decreased +to ten since the first line was dropped. + +At four o'clock, Captain Trigger ordered a boat lowered and manned +by a picked crew in charge of the Second Engineer. The Doraine +was about five miles off shore at the time, and was drifting with +a noticeably increased speed directly toward the rock-bound coast. +He had hoped she would go aground in the shallow waters off the +sandy beach, but there was now no chance that such a piece of good +fortune was in store for her. She was going straight for the huge +black rocks. + +The boat's crew rowed in for observations. Even before they returned +to report, the anxious officers on board the vessel had made out +a narrow fissure in the rocky coast line. They assumed that it was +the mouth of a small river. The Second Engineer brought back the +astonishing information that this opening in the coast was the +gateway to a channel that in his judgment split the island into two +distinct sections. That it was not the mouth of a river was made +clear by the presence of a current so strong that his men had to +exert themselves to the utmost to prevent the boat being literally +sucked into the channel by the powerful tide, which apparently was +at its full. This opening,--the water rushed into it so swiftly +that he was satisfied it developed into a gorge farther back from +the coast,--was approximately two hundred yards wide, flanked on +either side by low lying, formidable bastions of rock. The water +was not more than fifty feet deep off the entrance to the channel. + +Gradually the prow of the Doraine swung around and pointed straight +for the cleft in the shore. The ship, two miles out, had responded +to the insidious pressure of the current and was being drawn toward +the rocks,--at first so slowly that there was scarcely a ripple +off her bows; then, as she lumbered onward, she began to turn over +the water as a ploughshare turns over the land. + +At precisely six o'clock she slid between the rocky portals and +entered a canal so straight and true that it might have been drilled +and blasted out of the earth under the direction of the most skilful +engineers in the world. + +Soundings were hastily taken. Discovering that the water was +not deep enough even at high tide to submerge the vessel when the +inevitable came to pass and she sank to the bottom, Captain Trigger +renewed his efforts to release the anchor chains, which had been +caught and jammed in the wreckage. He realized the vital necessity +for checking the Doraine in her flight before she accomplished the +miracle of passing unhindered through the channel and out into the +open sea beyond. The swiftness of the current indicated plainly +enough that this natural canal was of no great length. + +The ship slid on between the tree lined banks. The trees were of +the temperate zone, with spreading limbs, thick foliage and hardy +trunks. There were no palms visible, but in the rarely occurring +open spaces a large shrub abounded. This was instantly recognized +by Percival, who proclaimed it to be the algaroba, a plant commonly +found on the Gran Chaco in Argentina. While the woodland was thick +there was nothing about it to suggest the tropical jungle with its +impenetrable fastnesses. + +The keel of the half-sunken Doraine was scraping ominously on the +bed of the channel. She shivered and swerved from frequent contact +with submerged rocks, but held her course with uncanny steadiness, +while every soul on board gazed with stark, despairing eyes at +the land which mocked them as they passed. Far on ahead loomed the +lofty hills, and beyond them lay--What? The ocean? + +Gradually the passage widened. Its depth also increased. The ship +no longer scraped the bottom, she no longer caromed off the sunken +rocks. On the other hand, water poured into her interior with +increasing force and volume, indicating a disastrous rent forward. +She was sloshing along toward the centre of a basin which appeared +to be half a mile wide and not more than a mile long. Directly +ahead of her the hills came down to meet the water. A dark narrow +cut, with towering sides, indicated an outlet for the tiny, inland +sea. This gorge, toward which the Doraine was being resistlessly +drawn, appeared to be but little wider than the ship itself. + +Almost in the shadow of the hills, and within a dozen ship-lengths +of the sinister opening, the worn, exhausted, beaten Doraine came +to rest at the end of her final voyage. She shivered and groaned +under the jarring impact, forged onward half her length, heeled +over slightly--and died! She was anchored for ever in the tiny +landlocked sea, proud leviathan whose days had been spent in the +boundless reaches of the open deep. + +And here for the centuries to come would lie the proud Doraine, +guided to her journey's end by the pilot Chance, moored for all +time in the strangest haven ever put into by man. + +Behind the stranded vessel stretched centuries incalculable, and +in all these centuries no man had entered here. Screened from the +rest of the world, untended by chortling tugs, unheralded by raucous +sirens, welcomed only by primeval solitude, the Doraine had come +to rest. + +She settled down on her bed of rocks to sleep for evermore, a +mottled monster whose only covering was the night; indifferent to +storm and calm, to time and tide, to darkness and light, she sat +serene in her little sea. Her lofty walls towered high above the +waves that broke tremblingly against them, as if afraid of this +strange object from another world that could rest upon the bottom +of the ocean and yet be so far above them. + +Reported "Lost with all on board!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + + + + +Captain Trigger and a dozen men stood on the boat deck with guns +and revolvers, facing several hundred sullen, determined men and +women from the steerage. Night had not yet fallen; the shadow of +the hills, however, was reaching half way across the oval pool; +gloom impenetrable had settled on the wooded shores. + +With the striking of the Doraine, nearly every one on board was +hurled to the decks. As she heeled over five or six degrees in +settling herself among the rocks, a panic ensued among the ignorant +people of the steerage. They scrambled to their feet and made a +rush for the boats, shouting and screaming in their terror. Other +passengers were trampled under foot and sailors standing by the +davits were hurled aside. + +Captain Trigger, anticipating just such a stampede, rushed up +with members of the gun crew. The gaunt, broken old master of the +Doraine drove the horde back from the boats, but as he stood there +haranguing them in good maritime English he could see plainly +enough that they were not to be so easily subdued. The first panic +was over, but they were crazed by the fear that had gripped them +for days; they believed that the ship was soon to sink beneath +their feet; safety lay not more than a hundred yards away,--and it +was being denied them by this heartless, unfeeling despot. + +They were mainly low-caste Portuguese bound for Rio and Bahia, +and they had obeyed him through all those tortuous days out on the +deep where he was the shepherd and they the flock. But now,--now +they could well afford to turn upon and rend him, for he had brought +them safe to land and they no longer owed him anything! + +"My God, I don't want to shoot any of them," groaned the Captain, +steadying himself against the rail. "But they've got guns, and +they're crazy. I--" + +Some one touched his arm, and a firm, decisive voice spoke in his +ear. + +"I'm used to handling gangs like this, Captain Trigger. They don't +understand you, but they'll damn soon understand me, if you'll +turn the job over to me. I'm not trying to be officious, sir, and +I'm not even hinting that you can't bring 'em to their senses. I know +how to handle 'em and you don't, that's all. They're not sailors, +you see. And it isn't mutiny. They need a boss, sir,--that's what +they need. And they need him damned quick, so if you don't mind +saying the word,--they're ready to make a rush, and if--" + +"Go ahead, Percival,--if you can hold them--" + +"Say no more!" shouted Percival, and stepped resolutely forward. +His hands were bare,--swollen, red and ugly; his eyes were as cold +as steel, his voice as sharp as a keen-edged sword. He spoke in +Spanish to the wavering, threatening horde. + +"You damned, sneaking, low-lived cowards! What sort of swine are you? +Have you no thought for the women you've trampled upon and beaten +out of your path,--your own women, as well as the others,--think +of them andd ask yourselves if you are men. I'm in command of this +ship now, and, by God, I'm going to let you get into those boats +and start for shore. Don't cheer! You don't know what's coming to +you. I'm going to turn that cannon on you up there and blow every +one of you to hell and gone before you get fifty feet from the side +of this ship. You don't believe that, eh? Well, that's exactly what +I'm going to do. Lieutenant Platt!" He called over his shoulder +in English to the young commander of the gun's crew. "Get some of +your men up there and train that gun so as to blow these boats to +smithereens. Quick!" In a half-whisper to the Captain: "It's all +right. I know what I'm talking about." Then to the crowd: "We don't +want you on board this ship a minute longer than we can help. We've +got no room for dogs here among decent white men and women. Do you +understand that? We don't want to have anything more to do with you, +either here or on shore. I'm going to wipe you out, every damned +one of you,--men women and children. You're not fit to live. You're +going to climb into those boats now and get off this ship. You'll +never realize how safe you are here till you get down there in the +water and hear that gun go off. Come on! Get a move! We're through +with you, now and for ever. Nobody's going to stop you. I'm even +going to have the boats lowered for you, so as not to delay matters." +He shouted after Lieutenant Platt: "Be lively, please. You've got +your orders. We'll make short work of this pack of wolves." To Captain +Trigger, authoritatively: "Withdraw your men, sir. I am going to +let them leave the ship. At once, sir! Do you mean to disobey me, +sir?" He gave the captain a sly wink. + +Then as the bewildered master withdrew with his armed men, he turned +once more to the mob. "Come on! Step lively, now! No rushing! Take +your turn. Every blasted one of you, I mean. What the hell are you +hanging back for,--you? You were so darned eager to go a little +while ago, what's the matter with you now? No one's trying to stop +you. Here are the boats. Put up your guns and knives, and pile +in. You're absolutely free to go, you swine. We'll be damned good +and rid of you, and that's all we're asking. It's a pity to waste +powder and cannon-balls on you, when we may have use for all we've +got later on, killing the lions and tigers and anacondas up there +in the woods, but I'm going to do it." + +He stepped back. Not a man or woman moved. They stood transfixed, +packed in a huddled mass along the deck. Then a woman cried out +for mercy. The cry was taken up by other women. Percival halted +and faced them once more. + +"Get into those boats!" he roared savagely. "It won't do you a bit +of good to whine and pray and squeal. I'm through with you. You've +got to--Well?" + +Several of the men edged forward, some of them trying to smile. + +"Would you kill us when we are only trying to save our lives?" +called out one of them, finding his courage and voice. + +"I don't want to talk to you. Get in!" + +"We have as much right to remain on this ship as anybody else," shouted +another. "We paid for our passage. We are honest, hard-working--" + +"No use! I'll give you ten minutes to climb into those boats." + +There was a moment's silence. "And what will you do if we refuse +to leave the ship?" cried one of the men. + +"Be quiet!" he bawled at the whimpering women. "We cannot hear what +the gentleman has to say." + +"You'll soon find out what I'll do, if you don't obey me inside of +ten minutes," replied Percival. + +"But the ship is not going to sink any more," protested another, +looking over the rail timidly. "She is safe. We do not wish to +leave now." + +Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott joined Percival. In an undertone he +told them what he had said to the mob. + +"And now, gentlemen," he whispered in conclusion, "it's up to you +to intercede in their behalf. They're as tame as rabbits now. They +know the ship's all right, and they believe I intend to blow 'em +to pieces if they once put off in the boats. Start in now, Captain, +and argue with me. Plead for them. They know who I am. They know +I come from the hills and they think I'm a bloodthirsty devil. +They're like a lot of cattle. Most of them are simple, honest, +God-fearing people,--and if we handle them properly now we'll not +have much trouble with them in the future. And only the Good Lord +knows what the future is going to bring." + +So the three of them argued, two against one. Finally Percival +threw up his hands in a gesture of complete surrender. + +"All right, Captain. I give in. Perhaps you are right. I suppose +it would be butchery." + +There were a few in the crowd who understood English. These edged +forward eagerly, hopefully. They called out protestations against +the "slaughter." + +"Tell them you have reconsidered, Mr. Percival," said the Captain. +"They are to remain on board." + +Excited shouts went up from the few who understood, and then the +word went among the others that they were to be spared. There were +cries of relief, joy, gratitude, and not a few fell upon their +knees! + +Percival stood forth once more. Silence fell upon the throng. + +"The Captain has put in a plea for you, and I have decided to grant +it. You may remain on board. Now, listen to me! No one is to leave +this ship until tomorrow morning. We are safe here. We are stuck fast +on the bottom, and nothing can happen to us at present. Tomorrow +we will see what is best to be done. Every man and woman here is +to return to the task he was given by Mr. Mott at the beginning +of our troubles. We've got to eat, and sleep, and--Wait a minute! +Well, all right,--beat it, if you feel that way about it." + +He stood watching them as they excitedly withdrew toward the bow of +the ship, breaking up into clattering groups, all of them talking +at once. + +Captain Trigger laid his hand on the young man's shoulder. + +"If it had not been for you, Percival, this deck would now be red +with blood,--and some of us would be dead. You saved a very ticklish +situation. I take off my hat to you, and I say, with a full heart, +that I shall never again doubt your ability to handle men. No one +but an American could have tricked that mob as you did, my lad." + +From various points of vantage the foregoing scene had been +witnessed by uneasy, alarmed persons from upper cabins. Overwhelmed +and dismayed by the rush of the yelling mob, the elect had fled for +safety, urged by a greater fear than any that had gone before,--the +fear of rioting men. + +A few of them, more daring and inquisitive than the rest, had +ventured recklessly into the zone of danger. Among them were Ruth +Clinton and Madame Olga Obosky, who, disregarding the command of Mr. +Mott, were the only women to venture beyond the protecting corner +of the deck building. They stood side by side, bracing themselves +against the downward slope of the deck. Half-way forward were Trigger +and the armed gunners, and beyond them the dense, irresolute mass +of humanity. Percival, in rounding the corner to go to the assistance +of Captain Trigger, observed with dismay the exposed position in +which the two women had placed themselves. He paused to cry out to +them sharply: + +"What are you doing here? Get back to the other side. Can't you see +there is likely to be shooting? Don't stand there like a couple of +idiots! You're right in line if that gang begins to fire." + +"He is tearing off his bandages," cried Ruth, as Percival hurried +on. + +Madame Obosky was silent, her gaze fixed intently on the brisk, +aggressive figure of the man who had called them idiots. She understood +every word he uttered to the Portuguese. Her eyes glistened with +pride when he stepped forward to tackle the mob single-handed, and +as he went on with his astonishing speech she actually broke into +a soft giggle. Her companion looked at her in amazement. + +"Why do you laugh?" she demanded hotly. "Those dreadful creatures +may tear him to pieces. He is unarmed and defenceless. They could +sweep him--" + +"You would laugh also if you understood," inter-rupted Olga, +her eyes dancing. "Oh, what a grand--what do you call it?--bluff? +What a magnificent bluff he is doing! It is beautiful. See,--they +whisper among themselves,--they have back down completely. Wait! +I will presently tell you what he have said to them." + +"I never dreamed any man could be so fearless. Look at the odds +against him. There are scores of them,--and they--" + +"Pooh! Do you suppose he would stand up and fight them if they +rushed at him? Not he! He would turn and run as fast as he could. +He is no fool, my dear. He is a very intelligent man. So he would +run if they make a single move toward him." + +"I think this is rather a poor time to accuse him of cowardice, +Madame Obosky, in view of what he--" + +"Have I accused him of cowardice?" + +"I'd like to know what you call it. You say he would run if they--" + +"But that would not be cowardice. It would be the simplest kind of +common sense. He is so very sure of himself. It is not courage. It +is confidence. That is his strength. He would be a fool to stand in +front of them empty-handed if they were to charge upon him. Maybe +when you have known him as long as I have, you will realize he is +not a fool,--about himself or any one else." + +Ruth stared at her. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, Madame Obosky, +I have known Mr. Percival as long if not longer than you have." + +"You do not know him at all," rejoined the Russian brusquely. "Be +still, please! I must hear what he is saying to them now." A little +later she turned to the American girl and laid her hand on her arm. +"For-give me, if I was rude to you. I am so very much older than +you that I--how old are you, Miss Clinton?" + +"I am twenty-five," replied the other, surprised into replying. + +"And I am twenty-six," said Madame Obosky, as if she were at least +twice the age of her companion. "See! They are dispersing. It's +all over. Come! Let us go back to the other side." + +"I am not ready to go back to the other side," protested the American +girl, resisting the hand on her arm. "Why should we go back, now +that the danger is over?" + +"Because we must not let him catch us here," urged Olga in some +agitation. + +"And why not, pray?" + +The Russian looked at her in astonishment. "But surely you heard +him tell us to go back to the other side. You heard him call us +idiots, Miss Clinton?" + +And Ruth Clinton suffered herself to be hurried incontinently around +the corner of the deck building. + +"Once, in Moscow, I saw a Grand Duke confront a mob of students +who had gathered in the street near his house. They were armed and +they had come to destroy this man himself. There were hundreds of +them. He walked straight toward them, his head erect, his shoulders +squared, and when they stopped he spoke to them as if they were +dogs. When he had finished, he turned his back upon them and walked +away. They might have filled him with bullets,--but they did not +fire a shot. At the corner he entered his carriage and disappeared. +And then what did he do? He fainted, that Grand Duke, he did. Fainted +like a stupid, silly young girl. But while he was standing before +zat---that mob of terrorists he was the strongest man in Russia. +Nevertheless, he was afraid of them. You have therefore the curious +spectacle to perceive, Miss Clinton, of one man being afraid of +hundreds, and of hundreds of men at the same time being afraid of +one. Man, he is a queer animal, eh?" + +It was not long before the doubts and fears of all on board the +Doraine gave way to a strange, unnatural state of exhilaration. +It represented joy without happiness, relief without security, +exultation without conviction,--for, after all, there still remained +unanswered the question that robbed every sensation of its thrill. +While they were singing the hymns of thanksgiving in the saloon +that night, and listening to the fervent prayers; while they ate, +drank and were merry, their thoughts were not of the day but of the +morrow. What of the morrow? In the eyes of every one who laughed +and sang dwelt the unchanging shadow of anxiety; on every face was +stamped an expression that spoke more plainly than words the doubts +and misgivings that constituted the background of their jubilation. +They had escaped the sea, but would they ever escape the land? Had +God, in answer to their complaints and prayers, directed them to a +land from which the hand of man would never rescue them? Were they +isolated here in the untraversed southern seas, cast upon an island +unknown to the rest of the world? Or were they, on the other hand, +within reach of human agencies by which the world might be made +acquainted with their plight? + +Uppermost in every mind was the sickening recollection, however, +that for days they had ranged the sea without sighting a single +craft. They were far from the travelled lanes, they were out of +the worth-while world. Hope rested solely on the possibility that +the hills and forests hid from view the houses and wharves of a +desolate little sea-town set up by the far-reaching people of the +British Isles. + +The story of Percival's achievement was not long in going the rounds. +It went through the customary process of elaboration. By the time +it reached his ears,--through the instrumentality of Mr. Morris +Shine, the motion picture magnate,--it had assumed sufficient +magnitude to draw from that enterprising gentleman a bona fide offer +of quite a large sum for the film rights in case Mr. Percival would +agree to re-enact the thrilling scene later on. In fact, Mr. Shine, +having recovered his astuteness and his courage simultaneously, was +already working at the preliminary details of the most "stupendous" +picture ever conceived by man. His deepest lament now was that he +had neglected to bring a good camera man down from New York, so +that on the day of the explosion he could have "got" the people +actually jumping overboard, and drowning in plain sight--(although +he did not see them because of the trouble he was having to get +a seat in one of the life-boats),--and the wounded scattered over +the decks, the fire, the devastation, the departure and return +of the boats, the storm and all that followed, including himself +in certain judiciously preserved scenes, and the whole production +could have been made at practically no cost at all. There never had +been such an opportunity, complained Mr. Shine the moment he felt +absolutely certain that the opportunity was a thing of the past. + +"No wonder he got away with it," said Mr. Landover to a group of +rejuvenated satellites. "He is hand in glove with them, that fellow +is. I wouldn't trust him around the corner. Why, it's perfectly +plain to anybody with a grain of intelligence that he's the leader +of that gang of anarchists. All he had to do was to speak to +them,--in their own language, mind you,--and back they slunk to +their quarters. They obeyed him because he is their chosen leader, +and that's all there is to this--What say, Fitts?" + +Mr. Fitts, who was not a satellite but a very irritating Christian +gentleman, cleared his throat and said: + +"I didn't speak, Mr. Landover. I always make a noise like that +when I yawn. It's an awfully middle-class habit I've gotten into. +Still, don't you think one obtains a little more--shall we say +enjoyment?--a little more enjoyment out of a yawn if he lets go and +puts his whole soul into it? Of course, it isn't really necessary +to utter the 'hi-ho-hum!' quite so vociferously as I do,--in fact, +it might even be better to omit it altogether,--if possible,--when +some one else is speaking. There are, I grant you, other ways of +expressing one's complete mastery of the art of yawning, such as +a prolonged but audible sigh, or a sort of muffled howl, or even a +series of blissful little shrieks peculiar to the feminine of the +species,--any one of these, I admit, is a trifle more elegant and +up-to-date, but they all lack the splendid resonance,--you might +even say grandiloquence,--of the old-fashioned 'hi-ho-hum!' to +which I am addicted. Now, if you will consider--" + +"My God!" exclaimed the banker, with a positively venomous emphasis +on the name of the Deity. "Who wants to know anything about yawns?" + +Mr. Fitts looked hurt. "I am sorry. My mistake. I thought you were +trying to change the subject when you interrupted my yawn." + +"That fellow's a damn' fool," said the banker, as Fitts strolled +off to join another group. + +"Try one of these cigars, Mr. Landover," said Mr. Nicklestick +persuasively. "Of course, they're nothing like the kind you smoke, +but--" + +"Is mine out? So it is. No, thank you. I'll take a match, however, +if you have one about you." + +Four boxes were hastily thrust upon the great financier. + +"Haf you noticed how poor the matches are lately, Mr. Landover?" +complained Mr. Block. + +"As for this vagabond being superintendent of a mining concession +up in Bolivia," continued Landover, absentmindedly sticking Mr. +Nicklestick's precious, box of matches into his own pocket, "that's +all poppycock. He's an out-and-out adventurer. You can't fool me. +I've handled too many men in my time. I sized him up right from the +start. But the devil of it is, he's got all the officers on this +boat hypnotized. And most of the women too. I made it a point to +speak to Mrs. Spofford and her niece about him this morning,--and +the poor girl has been making quite a fool of herself over him, +you may have observed. Mrs. Spofford owns quite a block of stock +in our institution, so I considered it my duty to put a flea in +her ear, if you see what I mean." + +"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Nicklestick. + +"She should have been very grateful," said Mr. Block. + +Mr. Landover frowned. "I'm going to speak to her again as soon as +she has regained her strength and composure. Nerves all shot to +pieces, you understand. Everything distorted,--er--shot to pieces, +as I say. I dare say I should have had more sense than to--er +--ahem!--two or three days' rest, that's what she needs, poor +thing." + +"Absolutely," said Mr. Nicklestick. + +"You can't tell a woman anything when she's upset," said Mr. Block, +feelingly. + +"Miss Clinton is a very charming young lady," said Mr. Nicklestick, +giving his moustache a slight twist. "I should hate to see her lose +her head over a fellow like him." + +"She is a splendid girl," said Landover warmly. "One of the oldest +families in New York. She deserves nothing but the best." + +"That's right, that's right," assented Mr. Nicklestick. "I don't +know when I've met a more charming young lady, Mr. Landover." + +"I didn't know you had met her," observed the banker coldly. + +"Oh, yes," replied Mr. Nicklestick. "We were in the same lifeboat, +Mr. Landover, you know,--all night, you know, Mr. Landover." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + + + + +Early the next morning, Percival turned out long before there were +any sounds from the galley or dining-room. The sun had not yet +cleared the tree-tops to the east; the decks of the Doraine were +still wet with dew. A few sailors were abroad; a dull-eyed junior +officer moodily picked his way through the debris on the forward +deck. Birds were singing and chattering in the trees that lined +the shore; down at the water's edge, like sentinels on duty, with +an eye always upon the strange, gigantic intruder, strutted a number +of stately, bright-plumaged birds of the flamingo variety--(doubtless +they were flamingoes); the blue surface of the basin was sprinkled +with the myriad white, gleaming backs of winged fishermen, diving, +flapping, swirling; on high, far above the hills, soared two or +three huge birds with wings outspread and rigid, monarchs of all +that they surveyed. The stowaway leaned on the port rail and fixed +his gaze upon the crest of the severed hill, apparently the tallest +of the half dozen or so that were visible from his position. + +With powerful glasses he studied the wooded slope. This hill was +probably twelve or fourteen hundred feet high. He thought of it as +a hill, for he had lived long in the heart of the towering Andes. +Behind him lay the belt of woodland that separated the basin from +the open sea, a scant league away. The cleft through the hill lay +almost directly ahead. It's walls apparently were perpendicular; +a hundred feet or less from the pinnacle, the opening spread out +considerably, indicating landslides at some remote period, the +natural sloughing off of earth and stone in the formation of this +narrow, unnatural passage through the very centre of the little +mountain. For at least a thousand feet, however, the sides of the +passage rose as straight as a wall. That the mountain was of solid +rock could not be doubted after a single glance at those sturdy, +unflinching walls, black and sheer. + +"Well, what do you make of it?" inquired a voice at his elbow. He +turned to find Mr. Mott standing beside him. + +"Earthquake," he replied. "Thousands of years ago, of course. Split +the island completely in two." + +"Sounds plausible," mused the First Officer. "But if that is the +case, how do you account for the shallowness of the water in the +passage and out here in the basin? An earthquake violent enough to +split that hill would make a crack in the earth a thousand fathoms +deep." + +"I have an idea that if we took soundings in this basin we'd find +a section twenty or thirty feet wide in the centre of it where we +couldn't touch bottom. The same would be true of the passage if we +plumbed the middle. When we came through it the ship scraped bottom +time and again. As a matter of fact,--the way I figure it out,--she +was simply bumping against the upper edges of a crevice that reaches +down God knows how far. We took no soundings, you will remember, +until we swung out into this pool. I'll bet my head that that cut +through the hill yonder is a mile deep. Earthquake fissures seldom +go deeper than that, I've heard. Generally they are mere surface +cracks, a hundred feet deep at the outside. But this one,--My God, +it gives me the creeps, that crack in the earth does." + +"Umph!" said Mr. Mott, his elbows on the rail beside the young man, +his chin in his hands. He was looking down at the water. "Captain +Trigger is planning to send a couple of boats outside to survey +the coast. I dare say he'll be asking you to go out in one of them. +You're a civil engineer and so he feels--" + +"Excuse me, Mr. Mott, but what's the sense of sending boats out to +explore the coast before we find out how big the island is?" + +"What's the sense? Why, how are we to find out how big the island +is unless we make the circuit of it? And how in thunder are we to +find out that there isn't a village or some sort of trading port +on it--What are you pointing up there for?" + +Percival's finger was levelled at the top of the higher half of +the bisected mountain. + +"See that hill, Mr. Mott? Well, unless we're on a darned sight +bigger island than I think we are, we can see from one end of it +to the other from the top of that hill. It isn't much of a climb. +A few huskies with axes to cut a path through the underbrush, and +we might get up there in a few hours. I've been figuring it out. +That's why I got up so early. Had it on my mind all night. The +sensible thing to do is to send a gang of us up there to have a +look around. Strange Captain Trigger never thought of it. I suppose +it's because he's an old sea-dog and not a landlubber." + +Mr. Mott coughed. "I fancy he would have thought of it in good +time." + +"Well, in case he doesn't think of it in time, you might suggest +it to him, Mr. Mott." + +The result of this conversation was the formation of a party of +explorers to ascend the mountain. They were sent ashore soon after +breakfast, well-armed, equipped with axes and other implements, +boat-hooks, surveying instruments, and the most powerful glasses +on board. Percival was in command. The party was made up of a dozen +men, half of them from the gun crew, with an additional complement +of laborers from the steerage. + +Ruth Clinton, as soon as she learned of the proposed expedition, +sought out Percival and insisted upon re-bandaging his hands. + +"You must not go into all that tangle of brushwood with your hands +unprotected," she declared, obstinately shaking her head in response +to his objections. "Don't be foolish, Mr. Percival. It won't take +me five minutes to wrap them up. Sit down,--I insist. You are still +one of my patients. Hold out your hand!" + +"They are ever so much better," he protested, but he obeyed her. + +"Of course they are," she agreed, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You +did not give me a chance last night to tell you how splendid you +were in tackling that crazy mob. I witnessed it all, you know. +Madame Obosky and I." + +"Then, you didn't beat it when I told you to, eh?" + +"Certainly not. What are you going to do about it?" + +"What can I do? I can only say this: I'm glad Captain Trigger's +opinion of me is based on my ability to reason with an ignorant +mob and not on my power to intimidate a couple of very intelligent +young women." + +"I wouldn't have missed it for worlds," she said coolly. She looked +up into his eyes, a slight frown puckering her brow. "Do you know, +Madame Obosky had the impertinence to say that you would have turned +tail and fled if those people had shown fight." + +He grinned. "She's an amazing person, isn't she? Wonderful faculty +for sizing the most of us up." + +"You would have run?" + +"Like a rabbit," he answered, unabashed. "That's a little too tight, +I think, Miss Clinton. Would you mind loosening it up a bit?" + +"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that better? Now the other one, please." + +"Yes, I'm an awful coward," he said, after a long silence. + +She looked up quickly. Something in his eyes brought a faint flush +to her cheek. For a second or two she met his gaze steadily and +then her eyes fell, but not before he had caught the shy, wondering +expression that suddenly filled them. He experienced an almost +uncontrollable desire to lay his clumsy hand upon the soft, smooth +brown hair. Through his mind flashed a queer rush of comparison. He +recalled the dark, knowing eyes of the Russian dancer, mysterious +and seductive,--man-reading eyes from which nothing was concealed,--and +contrasted them with the clear, honest, blue-grey orbs that still +could fall in sweet confusion. His heart began to pound furiously, +he felt a queer tightening of the throat. He was afraid to trust +his voice. How white and soft and gentle were her hands,--and how +beautiful they were. + +Suddenly she stroked the bandaged hand,--as an amiable manicurist +might have done--and arose. + +"There!" she said, composedly. Her cheek was cool and unflushed, +her eyes serene and smiling. "Now you may go, Mr. Percival. Good +luck! Bring back good news to us. I dreamed last night that we were +marooned, that we would have to stay here for ever." + +"All of us?" he asked, a trifle thickly. + +"Certainly," she replied, after the moment required for comprehension. +Her eyes were suddenly cold and uncompromising. + +"If I never come back," he began, somewhat dashed, "I'd like you +to remember always, Miss Clinton, that I--well, that I am the most +grateful dog alive. You've been corking." + +"But it isn't possible you won't come back," she cried, and he +was happy to see a flicker of alarm in her eyes. "What--what could +happen to you? It isn't--" + +"Oh, all sorts of things," he broke in, much in the same spirit as +that which dominates the boy who wishes he could die in order to +punish his parents for correcting him. + +"Are--are you really in earnest?" + +"Would you care--very much?" + +She hesitated. "Haven't I wished you good luck, Mr. Percival?" + +"Would you mind answering my question?" + +"Of course I should care,--very much indeed," she replied calmly. +"I am sure that everybody would be terribly grieved if anything +were to happen to you out there." + +"Well,--good-bye, Miss Clinton. I guess they're waiting for me." + +"Good-bye! Oh, how I wish I were in your place! Just to put my +foot on the blessed, green earth once more. Good-bye! And--and good +luck, again." + +"If you will take a pair of glasses and watch the top of that +hill,--there is a bare knob up there, you see,--you will know +long before we come back whether this island is inhabited or not. +I am taking an American flag with me. If we do not see another flag +floating anywhere on this island, I intend to plant the Stars and +Stripes on that hill,--just for luck!" + +She walked a few steps at his side, their bodies aslant against +the slope of the deck. + +"And if you do not raise the flag, we shall know at once that--that +there are other people here?" she said, her voice eager with suppressed +excitement. "It will mean that ships--" Her voice failed her. + +"It will mean home,--some day," he returned solemnly. + +The one remaining port-side boat was lowered a few minutes later +and to the accompaniment of cheers from the throng that lined the +rails, the men pulled away, heading for a tiny cove on the far side +of the basin. The shore at that point was sloping and practically +clear of undergrowth. + +It was while Percival was waiting to take his place in the boat +that Olga Obosky hurried up to him. + +"I have brought my luck piece for you," she said, and revealed in +her open palm a small gold coin, worn smooth with age and handling. +"Carry it, my friend. Nothing will happen to you while it is in +your possession. It was given me by the son of a Grand Duke. It +was his lucky piece. It brought me luck, for he was killed zat very +same day, and so I was saved from him. Keep it in your pocket till +you come safely back and then--then you shall return it to me, +because I would not be without my luck, no." She slipped her hand +deep into his trousers pocket. "There is no hole. That is good. +I have place it there. It is safe. Au revoir! You will have good +luck, my friend." + +Withdrawing her warm hand from his pocket she turned and walked +swiftly away. + +The throng on board the Doraine watched the party land; hats and +handkerchiefs were waved as the adventurers turned for a last look +behind, before they disappeared into the forest. + +Hours passed,--long interminable hours for those who were not +engaged in the active preparations for the landing of people and +stores. Captain Trigger was making ready to transfer the passengers +from the ship at the earliest possible moment. He was far from certain +that the Doraine would maintain its rather precarious balance on +the rocks. With safety not much more than a stone's throw away, he +was determined to take no further risk. + +At last a shout went up from some one on the forecastle deck. It was +taken up by eager voices. Out upon the bald crest of the mountain +straggled the first of the explorers to reach the goal. They were +plainly visible. One after another the rest of the party appeared. +The illusion was startling. It was as if they had actually emerged +from the tree-tops. With straining eyes the observers below watched +the group of figures outlined against the sky. They spoke in subdued +tones. As time went on and the flag was not unfurled, they took +hope; eyes brightened, the hushed tones increased to a cheerful, +excited clatter, the tenseness that had held them rigid for so long +gave way before the growing conviction that another flag already +fluttered somewhere beyond the screening hills. + +And then, when hope was highest, the Stars and Stripes went up! + +Captain Trigger assembled the ship's company on the forward deck +later in the day. The landing party returned about three o'clock. +Acting on advance instructions, they made their report in private +to the Captain, denying all information to the clamorous passengers. +A brief conference of officers, to which a number of men from the +first cabin were invited, was held immediately after Percival's +return. A course of action was discussed and agreed upon, and then +all on board were summoned to the open deck to hear the result of +the expedition. + +Percival reported the following facts and conclusions: + +1. The island was approximately fifteen miles long and six or seven +miles wide in the centre. The basin in which the Doraine rested +was about midway between the extreme points, and about two miles +inland from the northern shore. The southern slope of the range +descended to a flat plain, or perhaps moor, some two miles across +at its broadest point and ran in varying width from one end of the +island to the other. It was green and almost entirely devoid of +timber. The central eminence from which the observations were taken +was the loftiest of a range of ten or twelve diminishing hills +that formed what might actually be described as the backbone of +the island. The eastern extremity tapered off to a long, level, +low-lying promontory that ended in a point so sharp and wedge-like +that it bore a singular resemblance to the forward deck and prow +of a huge ironclad. The hills, as they approached the plateau, +terminated altogether a couple of miles from the tip of land. The +western half of the island (strictly speaking, it was a separate +bit of land, cut off from its neighbour by the ribbon-like channel), +was of a more rugged character, the hills, in fact, extending to +the sea, forming, no doubt, steep and precipitous cliffs, rising +directly from the water's edge. + +(Since his return, Percival had painted on a large piece of canvas +a fairly accurate outline map of the bisected island as it had +appeared to him from the top of the mountain. This crude map was +hung up in full view of the spectators, and served him well in an +effort to make clear his deductions. His original sketch is reproduced +later on in this chronicle.) + +2. There was no visible sign of past or present human habitation. +Absolutely nothing appeared to indicate that man had ever attempted +to claim or occupy this virgin land. + +3. The channel through the mountain was less than one hundred feet +wide. The walls of this gorge at one point were fully seven hundred +feet high, absolutely perpendicular, and of solid rock. It was as +if the hill had been split wide open with one blow of a tremendous +broad-ax. Beyond the elevation the channel spread out fan-fashion, +creating a funnel-like bay or inlet from the sea. + +4. There was no other land in sight. As far as the eye could reach +with the aid of lenses there was nothing but water, a mighty waste +of water. + +5. The wind, which had veered around to the south, was cold and +dry. + +6. A curving beach of almost snowy whiteness extended for a mile +or so along the northern shore, about half way between the entrance +to the channel and the eastern point of land. Inside the fringe of +trees that lined this beach stretched what appeared to be a long +strip of rolling meadow-land, reaching far up the hillsides. + +7. Monkeys, parrots and snakes abounded in the forest. An occasional +gay-plumaged bird of the toucan variety, but larger than the +ordinary South American species, was seen, while large numbers of +plump birds of the tinamou family went drumming off through the +forest at the approach of the party. Penguins strutted in complete +"full dress" among the rocks of the southern shore. A dead armadillo +of extraordinary dimensions was found near the foot of the slope. +It was at least thrice the size of the common South American mammal. +The same could be said of the single iguana encountered. This large +lizard, which was alive, must have been fully ten feet from head +to tail, and gave rise to the belief that the supposedly extinct +iguanodon, described by the scientists as attaining a length +of thirty feet, might any day be discovered in the fastnesses of +this unexplored land. The mere existence of this rather amiable, +unfrightened monster was of the greatest significance. If it were +known to man, why had it never been reported in zoological or +natural history journals? + +8. The trees on the mountain-side were thick and stunted, with +interlocking limbs that created a sort of endless canopy which +the sun was unable to penetrate. The cool, dry wind that swept the +slope would account, however, for the surprising absence of moisture +in soil and vegetation in the dense shade of the trees. Oak, elm, +spruce, even walnut, and other trees of a sturdy character indigenous +to the temperate zone were identified. What appeared to be a clump of +cypress trees, fantastic, misshapen objects that seemed to, shrink +back in terror from the assaulting breakers, stood out in bold +relief upon a rocky point to the south and west of the observation +hill. Their gaunt, twisted trunks leaned backward from the sea; their +shorn limbs, racked by gales, were raised as if in supplication to +the sombre forest behind them. Trunks of enormous trees that had +fallen perhaps a century ago were found half-buried in the earth, +while scattered along the northern base of the range, overlooking the +downs, a few of their gigantic counterparts, alive and flourishing, +raised their lofty heads far above the surrounding forest, and +stood like sentinels, guarding the plain. + +9. A small river wound its devious way, with serpentine crooks and +curves, through the downs and across the meadow, emptying into the +ocean some distance east of the gleaming beach. That its source +was far up in the secretive hills was not a matter of conjecture, +however; the incessant hiss and roar of a cataract was plainly +heard by the investigators. + +Here is the crude, hastily sketched map of the island as made by +Percival: + +1. Position of stranded vessel in basin. + +2. Entrance to channel from the north. + +3. Entrance to channel from the south. + +4. Narrow strip of woodland from channel almost to river's mouth. + +5. Strip of meadow-land clear of trees. + +6. River. + +7. Stretch of lowland leading down to the water. + +8. Crest of hill from which observations were taken with range +extending east and west. + +9. Point of rocks with cypress trees. + +10. Buttress-like west end of island. + +11. Dense forest reaching to channel. + +12. Rocky cape. + +13. Level plateau, without trees. + +14. Beach. + +15. Penguins. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X + + + + + +After the second reading of the foregoing report, the first being +in English, Percival requested his fellow explorers to verify the +statements contained therein. This they did promptly. He then went +on: + +"I am delegated by Captain Trigger and the officers of this vessel, +after a conference just concluded,--and of which you are all well +aware,--to put before you as briefly and as clearly as possible +the decision that has been reached. I may as well confess in the +beginning that this decision is based on the recommendations of +the party who went to the top of the mountain. It is out of the +question for the people on board this vessel to go ashore until +further investigations have been made. For the present, we are all +safe here on board the ship. We don't know what perils exist in +the absolutely unexplored country that surrounds us. Additional +parties are to be sent out to explore the island, especially the +eastern section of it. There is no use mincing matters. We are +confronted by a very plain situation. It is possible, even probable, +that we are the first human beings ever to set foot on this land. +If that be true, we are now so far out of the path of the few ships +and steamers sailing these southern seas that there is small hope +or chance of a speedy rescue. As a matter of fact, it isn't likely +that we will be discovered until the island itself is discovered, +if you see what I mean. + +"There isn't the slightest chance that the ship we're now standing +on will ever float again. Even if the engines could be put +in order,--and that is possible, I am told,--the vessel cannot be +raised. If anybody has been nursing that sort of hope, he may as +well get rid of it. It's no good. We are here to stay, unless help +comes from the outside. There's the plain English of it. We may +have to live here on this island, like poor old Robinson Crusoe, +for years,--for a great many years. I'm going to stop just a few +seconds to let that soak into your brains. We've got to face it. +We've got to make the best of it. It is not for Captain Trigger or +me or any one else to say that we will not be taken off this island +some time--maybe sooner than we think. Whaling vessels must visit +these parts. That's neither here nor there. We've got our work +cut out for us, friends. We've got to think of the present and let +the future take care of itself. Now, here are the facts. We cannot +remain on board this wreck. We've got to go to work, every man, +woman and child of us. I don't know what can be cultivated on this +island, but we've got to find out, and when we find out we've got +to begin raising it. If we don't, my friends, we'll starve to death +in a very short time. And what's more, if we do not get out there +and put up houses to live in, we'll freeze to death when winter +comes along. + +"According to calculations, winter is still five or six months +away. We won't get it, I dare say, before next April or May. All +you have to do is to take a look at all these trees around here to +realize that we are a long way from the tropics. It gets as cold as +blazes here in the dead of winter, I can tell you that. We've got +to build homes. We've got to build a camp,--not a flimsy, half-way +sort of camp, but a good, solid, substantial one, my friends. There +is what you might call a minority report in regard to the situation. +Captain Trigger asked me to speak for him and others who look at +it as I do. Mr. Landover, who is, I understand, one of the leading +bankers in the United States of America, contends that we are well +enough off as we are, on board the Doraine, where we've got cabins +and beds and shelter from the elements. He may be right. All I +have to say to him is this,--I don't believe I mentioned it at this +conference, Mr. Landover, simply because I'm one of those unhappy +individuals who always think of the brilliant things I might have +said when it's too late to say them,--all I have to say is this: if +Mr. Landover and his supporters expect to sit snugly on this ship +while the rest of us build houses and plant crops, and then conclude +to come out and bone the rest of us for a square meal and a nice +warm place to sleep, they are going to be badly fooled. We're all +equal here. A couple of million dollars, more or less, doesn't +cut any ice on this little island. What counts here is muscle and +commonsense and a willingness to use both. + +"A little while ago I asked Mr. Landover how much money he has +with him. He informed me that while it wasn't any of my business, +he has about five hundred dollars in American money and a couple +of hundred pesos besides, but that his letter of credit is still +good for fifteen thousand. Mr. Nicklestick has about five hundred +dollars in money, and so has Mr. Block and one or two others. +They've all got letters of credit, express checks, and so forth, +and I suppose there is a wheelbarrow full of jewellery on board +this ship. Now, if money is to talk down here, I wish to state that +the men and women from the steerage have got more real dough than +all the first and second cabins put together. They haven't any +letters of credit or bank accounts in New York, but there are a +dozen men in the steerage who have as much as two or three thousand +pesos sewed up inside their clothes. So far as I can make out, +the only people who can afford to hire anybody to build a hut for +them, and pay for it in real money, are the plutocrats from the +steerage. + +"Mr. Landover's letter of credit is good for fifteen thousand if +he ever gets back to New York, but it isn't worth fifteen cents +here. His life is insured for one million dollars, I am told. I +don't know who the beneficiaries are, but, whoever they are, they +are going to put in a claim for the million if he doesn't show up +in New York pretty shortly. He is going to be declared officially +dead, and so are all the rest of us, after a reasonable time has +elapsed. Now, I don't say that we are never going to be rescued. +We may be found inside of a month. Some of us don't quite realize +the fix we are in. Mr. Codge, the purser, was saying a little while +ago that a lady from the first cabin nearly took his head off when +he told her it was impossible to send a cable message to her people +in Boston. A number of passengers have already demanded that their +passage money be refunded. + +"You have doubtless heard how I came to be on board this steamer. +I am a stowaway. I have no standing among you. I haven't a penny +in my pocket,--aside from a luck-piece that doesn't belong to me. +I wanted to get back to the States so that I could carry a gun +or something over in France. I wanted to fight for my country. +I wasn't thinking very much about my life when I started for home +and France, but I want to say that I'm thinking about it now. I +don't intend to starve or freeze to death if I can help it. I am +going to fight for my life, not for my country. + +"This is no time to be sentimental. It is no time to sit down and +pity ourselves or each other. God knows I am just as sorry for +myself as you are for yourselves, but that isn't going to get me +anywhere. We've got to work. That means all of us. It means the +women as well as the men. It means the women with soft, white hands +and the men who never did a stroke of manual labour in their lives, +just as much as it means the people who have never done anything +else but work. Something will be found for every one of us to do, +and, ladies and gentlemen, we will have to do it without whining. + +"Captain Trigger is accountable for the cargo on board this ship. +Naturally he is opposed to our confiscating anything that has +been entrusted to him for safe delivery. He takes a very sensible +attitude, however. He will officially protest against the removal +of anything from the hold of his vessel, but he will not employ +force to resist us when we begin to land stores, foodstuffs and +all that sort of thing. He understands the situation perfectly. + +"Now, here is what we will have to do. We must select a site for +our camp,--or town, you may well say,--and we must build upon it +without delay. That is to be our first step. Details will come later. +There are over six hundred of us here. We represent a fair-sized +village. We have mechanics, carpenters, farmers, surveyors, +masons,--and merchants, to say nothing of cooks, housekeepers, and +so on. The ship contains all sorts of tools to work with, canvas +for temporary quarters, beds and bedding, cooking utensils,--in +fact, we have everything that Robinson Crusoe didn't have, and +besides all that, we've got each other. We are not alone on a desert +island. We are, my friends, as well off as the Pilgrims who landed +on Plymouth Rock, and we are better off than the hardy colonists +who laid the foundation for the country that flies that flag up +there. Centuries ago bold adventurers set out to discover unknown +lands. They were few in number and poorly equipped. But they ventured +into the wilderness and built villages that grew to be cities. They +went through a thousand hardships that we will never know, and they +survived. + +"Captain Trigger and the others selected me to make this talk to +you because I have had some practical experience in establishing +and developing a camp, such as we will have to build. Experience +has taught me one thing above all others: work, hard work +of a constructive nature, is our only salvation. Unless we occupy +ourselves from one day's end to another in good, hard, honest toil, +we will all go mad. That's the long and the short of it. If we sat +still on this boat for thirty days, doing nothing, we'd lose our +minds. There isn't a man in this crowd, I am sure, who wouldn't +work his head off to spare the women an hour of hardship. But the +greatest hardship you women could possibly know would be idleness. +There will be work for every one to do, and we can thank God for +it, my friends. We will have to work for nothing. We will have to +help each other. There is but one class on this island at present, +and that is the working class. + +"We've all got people at home waiting for us. By this time the +whole world knows that the Doraine is three weeks overdue at Rio +Janeiro, and that no word has been had from her. The ocean is being +searched. Our friends, our relatives are doing everything in their +power to get trace of this lost ship. You may depend on that. In +a little while,--a few weeks, at best,--the ship will be given up +for lost. We will be counted as dead, all of us. That's a hard, +cruel thing for me to say, and I hate to say it,--but we've just +got to realize the position we're in. It's best that we should look +at it from the worst possible angle. I do not speak jestingly when +I say that we may as well consider ourselves dead and forgotten. I +am as full of hope and confidence as anybody and I am an optimist +if there ever was one, but I don't work on the theory that God +takes any better care of an optimist than He does of a pessimist. + +"It will require months, maybe years, for us to construct a ship, +and even then it will not be big enough to transport all of us. +The most we can hope for is a craft that will be stout enough to +go out and bring help to the rest of us. I am trying, at Captain +Trigger's suggestion, to convince you that we can't build a ship, +that we can't expect to get away from this island by our own +endeavours, unless we go about it in the proper and sensible way. +That means, first of all, that we must safeguard ourselves against +time. We've got to live and we've got to keep our strength. + +"Mr. Landover has made a very generous proposition. He agrees to +give a hundred thousand dollars to any boat's crew that will take +one of these lifeboats and make port somewhere. He fails to mention +the compensation they are to receive if they never make port. He +forgets that this big ship floundered around for a good many days +without sighting anything but water. He would have been perfectly +safe in offering a hundred million dollars, because he would never +be called upon to pay it. I understand, however, that his offer +still stands. + +"Tomorrow morning surveying parties will be sent ashore to look +for a possible site for our town. Volunteers will undertake this +work. As soon as possible thereafter a temporary camp will be set +up, and practically every one on board will be moved from this +ship. Captain Trigger and a few chosen men will remain on board. +It is his wish, ladies and gentlemen. He is the captain of the +Doraine. He will not leave her. We are all here today, and alive, +because Captain Trigger would not leave his ship. We owe our lives +to him. This is not the time to propose three cheers for the gallant +master of the Doraine. It is not the time to cheer for anybody +or for anything. We do not feel like cheering. We've done all the +praying that is necessary, we've offered up all the thanksgiving +that the situation calls for, so now we've got to roll up our +sleeves and go to work." + +He, stepped down from the gun-platform. There were no cheers. Every +voice was stilled, every face was set. Many seconds passed before +there was even the slightest stir among those who had listened so +intently. + +Then the few English-speaking people from the steerage began to +whisper hoarsely to their bewildered companions. + + + + + + +BOOK TWO + +CHAPTER I + + + + + +The warm, summer season was well-advanced in this far southern land +before the strenuous, tireless efforts of the marooned settlers +began to show definite results. + +Some six weeks after the stranding of the Doraine, staunch log +cabins were in course of completion along the base of the hills +overlooking the clear, rolling meadow-land to the north and east. +Down in the lowlands scores of men were employed in sowing and +planting. The soil was rich. Farmers and grain-raisers among the +passengers were unanimously of the opinion that almost any vegetable, +cereal or fruit indigenous to Argentina (or at the worst, Patagonia), +could be produced here. Uncertainty as to the duration of the warm +period, so vital to the growing and maturing of crops, was the +chief problem. No time was to be lost if there were to be harvests +before the cold and blighting weather set in. + +It was extremely doubtful if the spring and summer seasons combined +covered more than five months in this latitude. Assuming that the +climate in this open part of the world was anything like that of the +Falkland Islands, the rainy season was overdue. Midwinter usually +comes in July, with the temperature averaging between 35 deg. and 10 +deg. above zero over a period of four or five months. At the time +of the wreck, the thermometers were registering about 70 deg. during +the day, and dropping to 50 deg. or thereabouts after nightfall. +This would indicate that spring was fairly well-ad-vanced, and that +midsummer might be figured on as coming in January. It was now the +end of November. Warm weather probably would last until February +or March. Possibly they would be too late with their planting, but +they went about it speedily, determinedly, just the same. + +All of them had had crop failures before. All of them had seen the +labour of months go for naught in the blight of an evening's frost, +or the sweep of a prairie fire. So here on this virgin isle, in soil +whose sod had never been turned, they sowed from the bins of the +slumbering ship. Wheat and oats and flax, brought from the Argentina +plains; potatoes, squash and beet-root; even beans and peas were +tried, but with small hope. And there were women ready to till the +soil and work the gardens, women to draw the strangely fashioned +ploughshares as willing beasts of burden, to wield the hoe and +spade, and to watch for the cherished sprout that was to glorify +their deeds. + +The ring of the ax resounded in the forest; the clangour of hammer +and nail, the rasp of the saw, the clatter of timber went on from +dawn to dusk,--for there was no eight-hour law in this smiling land, +nor was there any other union save that of staunch endeavour, no +other Brotherhood except that of Man. There was never a question +of wage, never a dispute as to hours, never a thought of strike. +Every labourer was worthy of his hire,--and his hire was food! + +The Doraine was gradually being dismantled. She was being stripped +of every bit of material that could be used in constructing and +furnishing the huts. The new camp lay not more than a mile and a +half from the basin. A road had been cleared through the wood from +the small, hastily constructed dock and runway on the eastern side +of the basin to the open territory beyond. + +Material, supplies, equipment were carried through the densely shaded +avenue, and later on, after the warehouses and granaries had been +built, the leafy lane witnessed the transportation of ton upon ton +of stores, patiently borne in hundredweight lots, in bushel bags, +in clumsy parcels, by men whose work seemed endless; wheat, barley, +oats, sugar, coffee and other commodities entrusted to the steamship +company for delivery in the United States. Tobacco, canned and +refrigerated meats, olives, flour, figs and dates in large quantities +were included in the vast cargo, to say nothing of the enormous +supply of canned fruits and vegetables. Washed wool, tanned leather, +homespun cotton and woollen cloth, silks, hides, furs, rugs, laces, +linseed oil, blankets,--all these came ashore in course of time, +but of the sinister treasure that had inspired the destruction of +the ship, i.e., the manganese, the rubber, the nitrates, the copper +bars, and the stacks of high explosives, not a pound was moved. +All this was left for another and more leisurely day. + +In the end, the once luxurious liner was to be reduced to "skin +and bones," to employ a trite but eminently appropriate phrase. +Ultimately she became a black, unlovely skeleton, bereft of every +vestige of her former opulence. Her decks were torn up and the +timbers hauled away to make floors in the huts; the doors, mirrors, +stairways, windows, rails, carpets, pipes, bathtubs, toilets, lamps, +every foot of woodwork from stem to stern, berths, washbasins, +kitchen ranges, boilers,--in fact, everything that man could make +use of was taken from the ship, leaving nothing of her but a hollow, +echoing shell through which the wind howled or moaned a ghostly +requiem. + +Much of this material was carefully stacked or stored away against +the day when it could be utilized in the construction of a small +but sturdy ship, in which a chosen company of sailors were to fare +out to sea once more in search of the world they had lost. + +Tireless and indomitable engineers later on succeeded in transferring +portions of the damaged machinery, including dynamos, to the camp, +where in course of time their skill and ingenuity bade fair to +triumph over seemingly insurmountable difficulties in the matter +of restoration. + +Fully six weeks elapsed, however, before the women were allowed to +leave the ship for their new homes on the land, and even then they +came but a few at a time and only as huts were ready and fully +equipped to receive them. Each hut contained a combination kitchen +and living-room, with a single bedchamber. A substantial fireplace, +built of stone and mortar, with a tall chimney at the back, was a +feature in every house. The cracks between the logs, and all chinks, +were sealed with thick layers of mortar; the ceilings, made of +stout saplings, were treated in a similar manner, while the roof, +resting on a sturdy ridge-pole, and securely anchored, was of three +layers of poles, interstices mortared and the whole covered with a +vast quantity of seaweed, moss and reeds held in place by several +well-fastened sections of iron railing from the decks of the Doraine. + +While the huts were uniform in size, shape and construction, there +was nothing to prevent the occupant from subsequently enlarging +and improving his house. For the present, however, the interests +of all were best served by speed and compactness. + +The superintendent of construction was Algernon Adonis Percival. +As a matter of fact, the end of the first week found him occupying +the position of General Manager for the whole enterprise, an unsolicited +honour but one which he was resolved that no one, great or small, +should deride. He had one stormy "run-in," as he described it, with +Mr. Landover and his group of satellites. This occurred about the +middle of their first week on the island when practically every +able-bodied man from the Doraine was at work cutting a way through +the forest or in constructing the dock at the water's edge. As the +incident is entitled to a very definite place in this narrative, +a more or less extended account of it may be given here and now, +even at the risk of being classed as a digression, or a step backward +in the sequence of the history. + +Mr. Landover, Mr. Block, Mr. Nicklestick and two or three other +men were grouped on the after-deck early one morning decrying +the brainless scheme to build a camp out there in the open. Their +audience included several women, among them Mrs. Spofford, Ruth +Clinton, Madame Careni-Amori, Madame Obosky, Mrs. Block and a couple +of loquacious Rio Janeiro ladies. + +Percival bore down upon this group. He wasted no time in getting +to the point. + +"We've been at work for two days out there, gentlemen, and up to date +not one of you has turned to with the rest of us. The understanding +was that--" + +Mr. Landover whirled on him, white with anger. "That will do!" he +exclaimed. "Clear out! I do not intend to allow any such riff-raff +as you to order me to--Oh, pray do not be alarmed, ladies! This +rowdy is not likely to assault me. Nothing will happen, I assure +you. Clear out, you bum,--do you hear me?" + +Percival was smiling. "I wish you wouldn't interrupt me, Mr. Landover. +As I was saying, it was understood that every man on this ship who +is well enough to--" + +"Can't you see that there are ladies present? Haven't you an atom +of decency about you?" + +"--understood that every man on this ship was to do his share of +the work laid out. I owe these ladies an apology for reminding you +in their presence that the boats are leaving for shore and that if +you do not get off in the next relay you will be compelled to swim +to that landing over there,--and I doubt very much whether any of +you can make it." + +"Wha-what's that?" demanded Mr. Block. + +Mr. Landover was speechless. A hard glitter came to Percival's +eyes, the smile left his lips. + +"You heard what I said, Mr. Block. I'll make it plainer, however. +If you men don't get into the next boat leaving this ship, I'm +going to have you thrown overboard and made to swim to your work. +I regret exceedingly, ladies, that I have been obliged to resort +to harsh words in your presence, but time is so precious that I +can't afford to give them a private audience." + +"Oh, my goodness gracious!" cried Mrs. Block, twisting her fat hands +in an agony of alarm. "Maybe you better go, Moses. You vas nearly +drownded twice yet in pool at White Sulphur." + +"This is the most outrageous, high-handed,--" began Landover, +explosively, but stopped short as Percival levelled his unlovely +forefinger at him. + +"Cut it out, Mr. Landover,--cut it out," he snapped, inelegantly. +"Now, listen to me. For two days you and these boon companions of +yours have been loafing on the job. While the rest of us have been +working like dogs, you and your friends,--you needn't look insulted, +because by the looks of things they are your friends,--you've been +sitting up here talking to the ladies, smoking cigars, and telling +every one how successfully you conduct a bank in New York. Now, Mr. +Landover, you're not an old man. If you were, I'd be the first to +suggest the easiest sort of work for you. You are under fifty and +you're a strong, healthy man. You ride every morning in Central +Park, you play golf in winter and summer, and you're one of the +men who made Muldoon famous. + +"You are able to work as the rest of us are working. Your hands +are in a much better condition than mine. If we were in New York, +I would take off my hat to you and admit that you are one of the +greatest bankers in the world, and that you know your business. But +we're not in New York. We're down here on a lonely island. You know +how to build and conduct banks, I know how to build and conduct +camps. We have no use for scientific bankers here, but we have +considerable use for experienced camp builders. I have been put in +charge of this work. I'm going to see it through. Up in the hills +I got a full day's work out of my men,--and there were worse men +among them than you will ever be. There were gunmen, knife slingers, +cutthroats and bullies,--but they had to work, just the same. Just +a minute, if you please. I'm not through. I think I appreciate your +position, Mr. Landover. + +"You regard me as a four-flusher, a tramp,--maybe a thief or +worse. I am but little more than half your age and I am a person +of absolutely no importance. That's neither here nor there. I have +been selected to run this job because Captain Trigger, with Mr. Mott +and virtually every other man on this ship, believes that I know +how to handle it. But even that's neither here nor there. What I'm +coming to is this. As long as I am in charge of this job, every +man, woman and child has got to do something. Just at present there +isn't much that the women and children can do, but there is work +for every man who can stand on his feet. You needn't glare at me. +I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Landover. You say you are going to stay +on this ship. Well, I've come here to tell you that you are not +going to do anything of the sort. The women and children are to +remain on board until we've got houses built for them on shore, +or until the time comes when there is work for them to do. If they +choose to come ashore occasionally it will be to watch the men work +and to cheer them up with their presence. But no man is to stay on +this ship after we've once got the real job going out there. Now +you've heard my statement, sir. I am willing to listen for a few +minutes to your side of the question. Don't all speak at once,--and +please be careful, there are ladies present." + +While Percival did not take his eyes from Landover's face during +this speech, he was aware that Miss Clinton and her aunt had turned +abruptly away and were leaning against the rail a few yards distant, +their backs to him. Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori were regarding +him with shining, approving eyes, while Mrs. Block,--gulping +furiously,--clasped her husband's arm and kept up a constant +muttering. Something told him that Ruth Clinton and Mrs. Spofford +had turned against him. + +"I have nothing to say to you," said Landover, curtly. Turning +on his heel, he joined the two ladies at the rail. He spoke a few +words to them in a lowered tone, and then the three of them strode +off without so much as a glance at the young man. + +Percival flushed a dull red under his tan. His eyes followed them +until they disappeared around a corner. Down in his heart he hoped +that Ruth would not deny him a fleeting look of encouragement and +approval. + +Landover carried himself like a soldier. He was tall, well set-up, +and almost offensively erect. He was a handsome man of perhaps +forty-eight. His cleanshaven face was firm, aggressive, domineering. +There was not a trace of grey in his dark hair. He typified +strength, mentality, shrewdness and that most essential quality +in the standards of wealth and power,--arrogance. In a word, he +personified Finance. + +"Now, see here, Percival," began Nicklestick, in a most cavalier +manner, greatly encouraged by the lofty conduct of the Money King, +"you know you can't do this sort of thing. We won't stand for it, +not for a minute. We object to this high-handed business. You got +to realize that--" + +"Object and be hanged!" snapped Percival. "The next thing, you'll +be calling yourselves conscientious objectors. Well, it's no +use, Nicklestick. There's no such animal on board this Ark. I see +a couple of boats returning from shore. You've got about fifteen +minutes to shed that Stein & Bloch suit and jump into something +that will never need pressing again,--your working clothes. I'm +doing you a kindness. That gang out there won't stand for slackers. +If you're wise you'll take my word for it." + +He was turning away when Nicklestick intercepted him. + +"What do you think they would do, Mr. Percival?" he inquired in +some agitation. "We are gentlemen. We got a right to decide for +ourselves vat we shall do. We can pay for--" + +"You will find a lot of gentlemen out there who have already decided +for themselves,--and very cheerfully, too. You will not be lonely. +If you desire any further information as to the class of labourers +you will come in contact with, Mr. Nicklestick, I would suggest a +careful study of the first cabin list, the second cabin list, and +finally the third cabin list, if you can find such a thing. You +will also run up against some excellent material from the United +States Navy, to say nothing of a fine lot of able seamen. They've +adopted a common name. Do you know what they call each other?" + +"No," said Nicklestick, wiping his brow. "Vat--vat do they call +each other?" + +"Men," said Percival, and walked away. + +He was followed closely by Careni-Amori and Olga Obosky, and at some +distance by the whispering, gesticulating Jews. The great soprano +was profoundly agitated. Obosky, a pace or two behind her, was +tense and silent. Her head was slightly bent. There was a strange, +dog-like expression in her eyes as they regarded the back of +Percival's head. + +"But what will you do?" Careni-Amori was crying, as she clutched +his arm. "He is a great man. He is a millionaire. He owns part of +this steamship line,--so he have inform me. You will not throw him +into the water,--yes?" + +"As sure as you are a foot high, Madame Careni-Amori," said he, +grimly. + +"Oh, mon Dieu! You hear him, Obosky? He means what he have say." + +"Be careful, my friend," said Obosky, drawing alongside of Percival. +"Do you not see how the wind blows?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Have you count the cost of victory? You may lose more than you +will gain." + +Percival looked at her intently for a moment; then, in a flash, +the meaning of her words was revealed to him. + +"Even so, Madame Obosky," he returned, his jaw setting, "I am a +good loser." + +"The spoils do not always go to the victor," she warned him. + +"I still have your luck-piece," said he, smiling as he slapped his +trousers-leg. + +"It has always brought me luck," she said, looking straight into +his eyes. "It may continue to do so, who knows? Alas for you, my +friend, you may yet have to turn to me for consolation. It is the +ill-wind that blows nobody good. Am I not shocking, Mr. Per-civail?" + +They had lost Madame Careni-Amori, who was behind them, shrieking +a command through a port-hole to her maid. + +He looked at her in amazement. "I don't know what to think of you, +Madame Obosky." Then he grinned. "Good Lord! You--you can't be +making me an offer of marriage?" + +"Heaven forbid!" she cried. "I have had all I want of marriage, my +friend. You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that +again. No, no! I do not desire to marry you, Mr. Percivail. Nothing +so dreadful as that! Suppose we would be married,--what zen? Poof! +Because I am an honest woman I would have to tell you some time zat +I have had ze honour to be once the mistress of a Crown Prince,--and +then you would hold up your holy hands and cry out, 'My God, what +kind of a woman is this I have marry?' and--Oh, but I would not +tell you about zat Crown Prince until we have been married a year +or two, so do not look so pleased! In a year you would be hating me +so much zat you would rejoice to hear about the Crown Prince, and +I would be loathing you so much zat I would probably have to kill +you,--because I do not believe in divorce any more than I believe +in marriage. You see? Most women hate their husbands. They never +hate their lovers. It is so difficult to get rid of the one, and +so easy to keep the other,--zat is the explanation. So! Now you may +know zat love is the humblest thing in the world, and passion the +noblest, for love is for the weak while passion is for the strong. +Love is easily deceived, passion never. Love endures, passion +conquers. Love is blind, passion is sight itself. Love rules the +world, but passion rules love. Love consents, passion demands. Love +is law, passion is life. I could go on forever, but I see you do +not like my discourse. Zat is because you are already in love, my +friend. Poof! You will get over that!" She laughed. + +Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the +same time his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting +the honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There +was no denying the physical appeal of the lithe, sinuous Russian; +there was no gainsaying the call of the blood. On the other hand, +the American girl stood for everything his own mother exemplified +in flesh and spirit. + +As it is with all men, he was absolutely incapable of associating +passion with the mother who bore him, or with sisters who marry and +give them nieces and nephews to adore. It was impossible, utterly +impossible that they should have possessed the instincts of this +woman beside him. But even as the thought raced through his mind +he experienced the sudden, almost staggering realization that after +all the chief, probably the only difference between his women and +Olga Obosky was that they were good! + +"Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?" he inquired, his +eyes hardening. + +"Yes," she said calmly. "But not now. When you have more time, my +friend. I shall be very much interested to hear what you think of +me. In the meantime, I am troubled for you. You are in love with +her,--oh, yes, you are,--and I am very much afraid zat you will lose +her if you are not careful. I am your friend. Be warned in time, +Mr. Percivail. She is sorry for him. Landover. You have humiliated +him before all of us. He is the friend of her family. Go slow, my +friend, or she will turn against you and you will lose her. You +have still a good chance. She is more nearly in love with you than +she suspects. A little good judgment on your part, my friend, and +you will win. She will marry you, and when she have done so, zen +you may with impunity toss Mr. Landover in the sea,--but not now, +my friend, not now." + +"By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky," he exclaimed, +frankly puzzled. "I can't make you out at all." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very +wise, Mr. Percivail," she returned, with a smile. "Au revoir!" + +Percival went straight to Captain Trigger. + +"See here, Captain," he said at once, "I'm up against it +with Landover. He refuses to take orders from me. I don't want to +do anything drastic without consulting you. If you say I'm to let +him off, that's the end of it so far as I'm concerned. Of course, +I can't answer for the rest of the crowd. But if you say I am to +go ahead along the line originally laid out, I'll do it." + +Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with +anxiety, rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across +the basin. Then he turned to the young man. + +"Mr. Landover is one of the owners of this steamship line, Percival." + +"So I understand, sir." + +"He notified me this morning that he will see that I am dismissed +from the service if I continue to support this silly, suicidal plan +to build a camp on shore." + +"Yes, sir. And you?" + +"I promptly tendered my resignation as master of this vessel," +answered the Captain. + +"You did?" cried Percival, dismayed. + +"To take effect when I have tied her safely up to her pier in New +York," said the old man, striking the rail with his fist. + +"Great!" cried Percival. + +"He has just come to me with the complaint that you have threatened +to throw him overboard. Is that true, Percival?" + +"Yes, sir,--in a way. I mentioned an alternative." + +"Mr. Landover is no better than any of the rest of us. You will +proceed to throw him overboard, Percival, if he refuses to do his +share of the work." + +Percival gulped, and then saluted. + +"Orders, sir?" + +"Orders!" + +The young man started away, but the Captain called him back. + +"What are you going to do after you have had him thrown into the +water?" + +"Why, dammit all," exclaimed Percival, "what can I do but jump in +and save his life? You don't suppose I'd let him drown, do you? +And, God knows, nobody else would save it. They want to tar and +feather him, as it is, or lynch him, or make him walk the plank." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II + + + + + +The first of the two boats came alongside, and men began to go +clumsily, even fearfully down the ladders. Throughout the early +stages of activity on shore, the passengers and crew went out in +shifts, so to speak. Percival and others experienced in construction +work had learned that efficiency and accomplishment depend entirely +upon the concentration of force, and so, instead of piling hundreds +of futile men on shore to create confusion, they adopted the plan of +sending out daily detachments of fifty or sixty, to work in regular +rotation until all available man power had been broken in and +classified according to fitness and strength. For example, certain +men developed into capable wood-choppers, while others were useless +in that capacity. Each successive draft, therefore, had its choppers, +its strippers, its haulers, its "handy men,"--and its water-boys. +Moreover, this systematic replacement of toilers made it possible +for those who were not accustomed to hard, manual labour to recover +from the unusual tax on strength and endurance. + +It should be explained, however, that this system was not applied +to individuals selected for the purpose of exploration and research. +Four parties, well-armed and equipped, were sent out to explore both +sections of the island. These expeditions had numerous objects in +view: to determine, if possible, whether the island had ever been +visited or occupied by man; to determine the character of the fruits +and vegetables; extent and va-riety of animal life; the natural +food resources, etc. The groups were made up of men familiar with +nature in the rough. Lieutenant Platt headed one group, Professor +Flattner another, a Bolivian ranchman and an English horse buyer +the remaining two. + +Abel Landover was to have gone out with the first day's shift to +work on the road through the wood. He refused point-blank to leave +the ship. This state of affairs lasted through the next two days, +the banker stubbornly ignoring the advice and finally the commands +of Captain Trigger. In the meantime he had been joined in his +rebellion,--a word used here for want of a milder one,--by half a +dozen gentlemen who did a great deal of talking about how the Turks +were maltreating the Armenians, but, for fear of being suspected +of pro-Germanism, studiously avoided pre-war dissertations on the +conduct of the Russians. + +The first shift's turn had come around once more in the natural +order of things, and practically all of the men had been landed. +Landover had refused to go out with either of the other shifts. +He had stood his ground obstinately. Percival's ultimatum, sweeping +like wildfire throughout the ship's company, brought nearly +every one on board to the rails to see whether he would carry out +his threat. Would he dare throw the great capitalist, this mighty +Croesus, this autocrat, into the sea? + +The first boat carried off Nicklestick, Block, Shine and the other +objectors. Landover was in his stateroom. + +"Just a minute," called out Percival to the oarsmen, as they waited +for him to take his place in the last boat. "We're shy a man, +I see." His eye ranged the deck. His face was a sickly yellow. It +would have been white save for the tan. "Where is Landover?" he +demanded of the crowd. + +Some one answered: "He went to his cabin a couple of minutes ago," +and another volunteered: "It's Number 9 on the promenade deck." + +Half a minute later Percival rapped peremptorily on the door of +Number 9. + +"We're waiting for you, Mr. Landover," he called out. + +"Wait and be damned," came strongly from the stateroom. "The door +is unlocked. If you put a foot inside this room, I'll shoot you +like a dog." + +"You will have the satisfaction of killing a mighty good dog," +said Percival, and threw the door wide open. He did not enter the +room, however. Standing just outside the door, he faced the banker. +Landover stood in the centre of the luxurious cabin, a revolver in +his hand. + +"I mean exactly what I say, Percival. I will shoot the instant you +put a foot through that door." + +"I don't believe you would," said Percival, "but, just the same, +I'm not going to chance it. If I ever conclude to commit suicide, +I'll go off somewhere and blow my brains out with my own gun. +At present, I have no thought of committing suicide, so I'll stay +right where I am. I didn't come here to kill you, Mr. Landover. I +have no gun with me. I simply came to tell you that the last boat +is leaving, and we are waiting for you." + +For many seconds the two men looked straight into each other's +eyes. + +"Are you coming?" demanded the young man levelly. + +"Certainly not!" + +Percival's shoulders sagged. His face wore an expression of complete +surrender. + +"Well,--if you won't, I suppose you won't," he muttered. + +A triumphant sneer greeted this abject back-down on the part of +the would-be dictator. + +"I thought so," exclaimed Landover. "You're yellow. You can bully +these poor, ignorant--" + +He never finished the sentence. Percival cleared the eight or nine +feet of intervening space with the lunge of a panther. His solid, +compact body struck Landover with the force of a battering ram. +Before the larger and heavier man could fire a shot, his wrist was +caught in a grip of steel. As he staggered back under the impact, +Percival's right fore-arm was jammed up under his chin. In the +fraction of a second, Landover, unable to withstand this sudden, +savage onslaught, toppled over backwards and, with his assailant +clinging to him like a wildcat, found himself pinned down to the +spacious, inset washstand. + +The revolver was discharged, the bullet burying itself in the floor. +An instant later the weapon fell from his paralysed fingers. With +his free left hand he struck wildly, frantically at Percival, but +with no effect. The broad back and shoulders of his assailant proved +a barrier he could not drive past. And that rigid, merciless right +arm, as hard as a bar of steel, was pressing relentlessly against +his throat, crushing, choking the life out of him. He was a strong, +vigorous man, but he was helpless in the grasp of this tigerish +young fighter from the slopes of the Andes. He heard Percival's +voice, panting in his ear. + +"I can keep this up longer than you can. I don't want to break +your neck,--do you understand? I don't want to break your neck, +Landover, but if you don't give in, I'll--I'll--" The pressure +slackened perceptibly. "Say it! Now's your chance. Say you've--got +enough!" + +Landover managed to gasp out the word. He could still feel his +eyes starting from his head, his tongue seemed to fill his mouth +completely. + +Percival released him instantly and fell back a yard or so, ready, +however, to spring upon his man again at the first sign of treachery. +No more than sixty seconds elapsed between the beginning and the +end of the encounter. It was all over in the twinkling of an eye, +so to speak. In fact, it was over so quickly that the first man +to reach the door after the report of the revolver rang out, found +the two men facing each other, one coughing and clutching at his +throat, the other erect and menacing. For the first time, Percival +took his eyes from the purplish face of the banker. They fell +first upon a head and pair of shoulders that blocked one of the +two port-holes. He recognized the countenance of Soapy Shay, the +thief. To his amazement, Soapy grinned and then winked at him! + +"The boat is ready to leave, Landover," said the victor briskly. +"We have no more use for this thing at present," he went on, shoving +the revolver under the berth with the toe of his boot. The banker +stared past him at the agitated group in the corridor. The man was +trembling like a leaf, not so much from fear as from the effects +of the tremendous physical shock. + +Percival was a generous foe. He experienced a sudden pity,--a rush +of consideration for the other's feelings. He saw the tears of rage +and mortification well up in the eyes of the banker, he heard the +half-suppressed sob that broke from his lips. Whirling, he ordered +the crowd away from the door. "It's all right," he said. "Please +leave us." He addressed Soapy Shay. "Beat it, you!" + +Soapy saluted with mock servility. "Aye, aye, sir. I saw the +whole show. It was certainly worth the price of admission." Having +delivered himself of that graceful acknowledgment, he effaced +himself. + +"Just a word or two, Mr. Landover," said Percival as the crowd +shuffled away from the door. "I am sorry this had to happen. Even +now I am not sure that you fully understand the situation. You may +still be inclined to resist. You are not in the habit of submitting +to force, reason or justice. I am only asking you, however, +to recognize the last of these. You will be happier in the end. I +don't give a hang how much you hate me, nor how far you may go to +depose me. I don't want your friendship any more than I want your +enmity. I can get along very nicely without either. But that isn't +the point. At present I am in charge of a gang of workmen. Every +man on this ship belongs to that gang, you with the rest. I ask +you to look at the matter fairly, honestly, open-mindedly. You +accuse me of being high-handed. I return the charge. It's you who +are high-handed. You set yourself above your fellow-unfortunates. +You refuse to abide by the will of the majority. I represent the +majority. I am not acting for myself, but for them. God knows, I +am not looking for trouble. This job isn't one that I would have +chosen voluntarily. But now that it has been thrust upon me, I +have no other alternative than to see it through. You ought to be +man enough, you ought to be fair enough to see it in that light. If +con-ditions were reversed, Mr. Landover, and you were in my place, +I would be the last to oppose you, because I have learned in a very +tough school that it pays to live up to the regulations. Everywhere +else in the world it is a question of capital and labour. Here it +is a question of labour alone. There is no such thing as capital. +Socialism is forced upon us, the purest kind of socialism, for even +the socialist can't get rich at the expense of his neighbour. But +I'm beginning to lecture again. Let's get down to cases. Are you +prepared to go out peaceably,--I'll not say willingly,--and do your +share on the job as long as you are physically able?" + +"I submit to brute force. There is no other course left open to +me," said Landover hoarsely. + +"Very well, then. Come along,--we're wasting valuable time here." + +"I will follow you in a few minutes." + +"You will come now," said Percival levelly. "You and I, Mr. Landover, +are jointly concerned in the establishment of a very definite order +of discipline. We represent the two extremes." He stood aside. +"Precede me, if you please." + +After a moment's hesitation, the other lifted his chin and walked +past the young man. The corridors were clear. Percival followed +close behind. He kept up a glib, one-sided conversation. + +"You see, there was no other way to handle you. I was obliged to +resort to punitive measures. That's always the case when you are +dealing with sensible, intelligent, educated men. It is impossible +to reason with an intelligent, educated man. He invariably has +opinions, ideas, viewpoints of his own. He is mentally equipped to +resist any kind of an argument. Take our United States Senators, +our Congressmen, even our Presidents. You can't reason with them. +No doubt you've tried it a thousand times, you and the other +capitalists. We've all tried it. You've got to hit 'em on the head +with some sort of a club or big stick if you want to bring 'em to +time. You have to club them to death at the polls, so to speak. +Now, you take these wops. They can't argue. They haven't got that +sort of intelligence. They're considerably like the common or +garden variety of dog. No matter how much you beat them and scold +them, you can always get along with them if you feed them and let +them see that you're not afraid of them. If they once get an idea +that you are afraid of them,--well, it's all off. They begin to +be sensible right away, and then they form a labour union. And the +more sensible and intelligent they become, the easier it is for the +labour leaders, the walking delegates, and blood-sucking agitators +to make fools of 'em. It's all a matter of leadership, Mr. Landover, +as you will admit, any way you look at it. Well, here we are." + +Landover paused before starting down the ladder to the boat. He +turned to address Percival in a loud, clear voice. + +"You will not long be in a position to browbeat and bully the +rest of us, young man. Your reign will be short. I would like my +fellow-passengers to know that I have never refused to work with +them. I have merely declined to work under an outlaw. Life is +as dear to me as it is to any one else on this ship. I am taking +this step against my will, rather than subject myself to further +indignities and the cruelties you would inflict if I held out +against you. I am sorry to deprive you of the spectacular hit you +might have made by throwing me into the sea, a treat which you +doubtless led all of these people to expect." + +He climbed down the ladder and dropped into the boat. As he took +his seat, he ran his eye along the line of faces above. Finding +the persons he sought, he smiled, shook his head slowly to signify +a state of resignation, and then set his flushed, angry face toward +the land. + +Percival, following him, did not look up at the row of faces. + +Careni-Amori sang that evening in the main saloon. Signer Joseppi, +tired and sore after his hard day's work, wept, and after weeping +as publicly as possible created a profound sensation by kissing +the great prima-donna in full view of the applauding spectators. +Then, to cap the climax, he proclaimed in a voice charged with +emotion that Madame Careni-Amori never had sung better in all her +life! This to an artist who had the rare faculty for knowing when +she was off the key,--and who knew that she was very badly off on +this particular occasion. + +Percival was standing near the door as Ruth Clinton and her aunt +left the saloon on the way to their rooms. He joined them after +a moment's hesitation. The two ladies bowed coldly to him. He was +the essence of decision. As usual, he went straight to the point. + +"I can't take back what I did this morning, and I wouldn't if I +could," he said, falling in beside Mrs. Spofford. "I know you are +displeased with me. Can't we thresh it out now, Mrs. Spofford?" + +The elder woman raised her chin and stared at him coldly. He shot +a glance past her at the girl's face. There was no encouragement +to be found in the calm, unsmiling eyes. + +"I fail to see precisely why we should thresh anything out with +you, Mr. Percival," replied Mrs. Spofford. + +"It is barely possible that you are not quite clear as to my motives, +and therefore unable to gauge my actions." + +"I understand your motives perfectly,--and I approve of them. Your +actions are not so acceptable. Good-night, Mr. Percival." + +He smiled whimsically at Ruth. "My left hand is rather in need of +attention, Miss Clinton. I suppose I am so deeply in your bad graces +that I may not hope for--er--the same old kindness?" + +She stopped short. "Is this a request or a command? Mr. Percival, +I will be quite frank with you. Mr. Landover is our friend. I am +not, however, defending him in the position he has taken. There is +no reason why he should not do his share with the rest of the men. +But was it necessary to humiliate him, was it necessary to insult +him as you did this morning? He is a distinguished man. He--" + +"Are you coming, Ruth?" demanded Mrs. Spofford, sharply. + +"In just a moment, Aunt Julia." + +"You will oblige me by coming with me at once. We have nothing more +to say to this young man." + +"I have asked him a question. I shall wait for his answer." + +"I will answer it, Miss Clinton, by saying it was necessary," said +he steadily. "There are other distinguished men here who are further +distinguishing themselves by toeing the mark without complaint or +cavil. Mr. Landover was appealed to on three distinct occasions by +Captain Trigger and the committee. He ignored all private appeals--and +commands. The time had come for a show-down. It was either Landover +and his little band of sycophants, or me and the entire company +of men on this ship. It may interest you to know that you and Mrs. +Spofford are the only two people on board, outside of Mr. Landover's +retrievers, who blame me for what I did this morning." + +"You can hardly expect me to be interested in what other people +think of my position, Mr. Percival," she said, raising her eyebrows +slightly. + +"No more, I dare say, than Landover cares what they think of his," +was his retort. + +She lifted her chin. "I am beginning to appreciate Mr. Landover's +attitude toward you, Mr. Percival," she said icily. + +"And to justify it, I suppose," he said dejectedly. "I want your +friendship, Miss Clinton,--yes, I want a great deal more than your +friendship. You may as well know it. I'm not asking for it,--I'm +just telling you. Please don't go away. I promise not to make myself +ridiculous. You have been good to me, you have been wonderful. I--I +can't bear the thought of losing your friendship or your respect. +I just had to bring Landover to time. You may think there was some +other way, but I do not. At any rate, it isn't a matter that we +can discuss. Some day you may admit that I was right, but I don't +believe I will ever see the day when I will admit that I was wrong. +Won't--can't we be friends?" + +"I do not believe I can ever feel the same toward you after +witnessing what I did this morning," said she, shaking her head. "You +deliberately, intentionally degraded Mr. Landover in the presence +of others. Was that the act of a gentleman? No! It was the act of +an overbearing, arrogant bully who had nothing to fear. You took +advantage of your authority and of the fact that he is so rich +and powerful that he is practically without a friend or champion. +You knew only too well that ninety-nine per cent of the people on +board this ship were behind you in your attack on him because he +represents capital! You had nothing to fear. No, Mr. Percival, I +don't believe we can be friends. I am sorry." + +"You heard what Mr. Landover said to me this morning, Miss Clinton," +said he, paling. "You heard what he called me. Do you believe these +things of me?" + +She was silent for a moment. "No, I do not," she replied slowly. +"I believe that you are all you have represented yourself to be." + +"Thank you," he said, with gentle dignity. "I am sorry if I have +distressed you this evening. Please don't think too harshly of me +when I say that I just had to find out how we stand, you and I. +Now that I know, I can only promise not to bother you again, and +you may rely on my promises. I never break them. Good-night, Miss +Clinton." + +He bowed to Mrs. Spofford, who ignored him, and then to Ruth, a +wistful smile struggling to his lips and eyes as he did so. As he +turned away, she spoke to him. + +"You mentioned your hand being bad again. If you would like me to +dress it for you,--under the circumstances,--I will do so." + +"Ruth!" cried Mrs. Spofford in a shocked voice. + +He put his left hand behind his back. It was the one with which he +had gripped Landover's wrist that morning. The strain had reopened +the partially healed wounds. + +"I injured it this morning in an encounter with your friend, Miss +Clinton. I can hardly ask you to dress it. Thank you, just the +same." + +"I know all that happened in Mr. Landover's cabin, but even so, I +am ready and willing to do anything in my power to ease the pain you +are suffering." She spoke calmly, dispassionately, almost perfunctorily. + +He shook his head. "I shouldn't have spoken of it," he said. "It +isn't so bad that I can't fix it up myself. Good-night." + +She joined her aunt and they made their way in silence to the latter's +stateroom. It was not until after the door was safely locked that +Mrs. Spofford delivered herself of the thought that had been in +her mind the whole length of the slanting corridor. + +"I hope he will not take advantage of his position to--to bully +us--to bully you, dearest,--he might, you know. He has shown himself +to be perfectly capable of it. And we are so defenceless. No one +but Abel Landover to look to for help if he,--for, of course, no +one else would dare oppose this lawless young,--oh, you need not +smile! He has the power and it is quite plain now that he intends +to exercise it. He will brook no interference--" + +"I am not afraid of Mr. Percival, Aunt Julia," said the girl, +sitting down wearily on the edge of the berth. "He is a gentleman." + +"A--a gentleman?" gasped Mrs. Spofford. "Good gracious!" + +"He will not annoy me," said Ruth, absently study-ing the tips of +her slim, shapely shoes. "Possess your soul in peace. I think I +know him." + +"Are you defending the braggart?" + +"Not at all! I detest him," cried the girl, springing to her feet, +her face crimsoning. "He is perfectly abominable." + +"I--I wouldn't speak quite so loudly, my dear," cautioned her aunt, +glancing at the door uneasily--"It would be like him to listen +outside the door,--or at any rate, one of his men may have been +set to spy upon--" + +"Don't be silly, Aunt Julia. And don't be afraid. Mr. Percival +isn't going to make us walk the plank for mutiny, or put us in +chains,--or outrage us,--if that is what you are thinking. Now, go +to bed, you old dear, and--" + +"I insist on your staying in my room, Ruth. He is in love with +you." + +"He can be in love with me and still be a gentleman, can't he, +Aunt Julia? Don't worry! I shall sleep in my own room. I may even +go so far as to leave my door unlocked." + +"What! And if he should come to--" + +"Ah, I shan't send him word that it's unlocked, dear," scoffed Ruth, +finding a malicious enjoyment in her aunt's dismay. "Good-night. +Sleep tight! We must sleep while we have the opportunity, you know. +Our lazy days will soon be over. He says we've all got to work +like,--I think he said dogs." + +"Oh, dear me. I,--I wonder what is to become of us?" moaned the +wretched lady. "After what he tried to do to Abel Landover, there +is no telling to what lengths he may go in--By the way, has Mr. +Landover reported to Captain Trigger that the fellow attemped to +shoot him this morning?" + +"Of course not, Aunt Julia." + +"Well, I think it is his duty to do so. Captain Trigger should take +drastic means to curb this--" + +"You forget that Mr. Landover maintains that Captain Trigger and all +the other officers are like putty in the hands of Mr. Percival. I +am beginning to believe it myself. He--he has got them all hypnotized." + +"He hasn't got me hypnotized!" exclaimed Mrs. Spofford. + +"In any case, he is in the saddle," sighed Ruth. + +"He deliberately tried to kill Mr. Landover," said the other. "Is +nothing to be done about it? We heard the shot,--every one heard it. +And no one has the courage to say a word about it! What a lot of +cowards we are! I don't see why he refuses to let me take the matter +up with the Captain. Captain Trigger ought to know the truth." + +Ruth was silent for a moment or two. "It's hard for me to believe, +Aunt Julia, that he would attack a defenceless man with a revolver. +It--it doesn't seem like him." + +"But you have Abel Landover's word for it, Ruth. The bullet grazed +his head. The coward would have killed him most certainly if he had +not succeeded in knocking the pistol out of his hand and overpowering +him." + +"If I did not believe Mr. Landover to be an absolutely truthful, +honourable man, I--" began Ruth, a little furrow between her +eyebrows, "well, I might still believe a little in Mr. Percival." + +"And what chance had poor Landover with that highwayman, or +whatever he is, pointing a revolver at him through the porthole +and threatening to blow his brains out if he did not throw up his +hands and let Percival alone?" + +Olga Obosky bandaged Percival's hand. She intercepted him on his +way to Dr. Cullen's cabin. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III + + + + + +During the days and weeks that followed, Percival maintained an +attitude of rigid but courteous aloofness. Only on occasions when +it was necessary to consult with Ruth and her aunt on matters +pertaining to the "order of the day" did he relax in the slightest +degree from the position he had taken in regard to them. + +In time, the captious Mrs. Spofford began to resent this studied +indifference. She detested him more than ever for not running true +to the form she had predicted; her apprehensiveness gave way to +irritation. She resented his dignified, pleasant "good mornings"; +she complained acidly to Ruth about what she was now pleased to +describe as "disgusting superciliousness." + +The truth of the matter was, he failed to take any account +whatsoever of Mrs. Spofford in his calculations; he did not even +make a pretence of consulting her in matters relating to the common +good of the common people, and as she was in the habit of devoting +a considerable portion of her time, energy and executive ability +to the interests of the common or lower class people, the omission +was an insult. + +Nor was his cause benefited by the unnecessary and uncalled for +deference he seemed to feel was due her on account of her age. What +had her age to do with it? No one had ever deferred to her age in +New York? She was one to be reckoned with, she was accustomed to +the deference that hasn't anything at all to do with age. And here +she was, shunted to one side, ignored, disregarded,--she who had +been the brains and inspi-ration of a dozen charitable enterprises, +to say nothing of war-work and very important activities in opposition +to Woman Suffrage! + +She found little consolation in Landover's contention that the +upstart was bound to hang himself if they gave him rope enough, or +in Ruth's patient reminder that Percival was getting results,--and +getting them without bullying anybody. + +Ruth accepted the situation with a calmness that exasperated her +aunt. She announced her intention to obey any order the "boss" might +issue, without recrimination, without complaint. And so, when the +day came for her to go forth with other women to do her share of +the cooking, washing, cleaning, and later on the more interesting +task of putting the huts in order for occupancy, she went with a +full understanding of what was required of her and without a word +of protest. The women with whom she toiled from early morn till +sombre dusk draped the land were under the immediate direction of +a stewardess of many years experience, an Englishwoman whose husband, +an engineer, had been killed at the time of the explosions. + +Each night she returned to the ship tired and sore but uncomplaining. +Her strong young body stood the test with the hardiest; her spirit +was unflinching; her heart in the common cause. For she looked ahead +with a clear, far-seeing eye, and saw not one but many winters in +this vast, unguarded prison. And she wondered,--wondered day and +night,--what was ahead of her. + +She was young. The young do not dream of death. They dream of life, +and of its fullness. What did fate have in store for her? Sometimes +she crimsoned, sometimes she paled as she looked ahead. + +Bare-armed, her heavy sport skirt caught up with pins, her bonny +brown hair loosely coiled, thick golf stockings and sturdy shoes +covering her legs and feet, she presented a figure that caused more +than one heart to thump, more than one head to turn, more than one +pair of eyes to follow her as she went about her work. Her cheeks +and throat and breast and arms were browning under the fire of the +noonday sun, her eyes glowed with the fervour of enthusiasm; her +voice was ever cheerful and her smile, though touchd with the blight +that lay upon the soul of all these castaways, was unfailingly +bright. And when she returned "home" at night from her wageless +day of toil, she slept as she never had slept before. + +Her aunt worked in what was known as the salvage corps. She was +one of the clerks employed in checking out the cargo and other +materials seized by the committee of ten, as the leaders in this +singular enterprise were called. Captain Trigger having protested +against the dismantling of the vessel and the confiscation of its +cargo,--which was as far as he could go,--announced that he would +abide by any satisfactory plan to salvage the property. He required +an official, documentary report, however, in which every item +removed was accounted for, with its condition and value set down +and sworn to by responsible persons. The purser, Mr. Codge, and +First Officer Mott represented the Captain in this operation, while +the consignees were properly taken care of by Michael O'Malley +Malone, the lawyer, James K. Jones, the promoter, and Moses Block, +the rubber importer. It is unnecessary to deal further with this +feature of the situation. Suffice it to say, the transaction,--if +it may be so denoted,--was managed with the utmost regularity and +formal-ity. Elderly men and women were chosen for the clerical work +which this rather laborious undertaking entailed. + +On the crest of the loftiest hill there was established a permanent +observation and signal station. Near the top a sort of combination +dug-out and shanty was constructed by order of Captain Trigger, and +day and night, week in and week out, watches were kept similar to +those maintained on board ship. + +While the entire company, high and low, worked with a zeal that +eventually resulted in a state of good-natured though intense rivalry +in skill and accomplishment,--while they were generally cheerful +and courageous,--there was a profound lack of gaiety. In the eyes +of each and every one of them lay the never-vanishing shadow of +anxiety,--an eternal unspoken question. The hardest, fiercest faces +wore a wistful expression; the broadest smile revealed a touch of +sadness. Over all, however, the surpassing spirit of kindness and +generosity presided. + +Calamity had softened the hearts in the same crucible that hardened +the hands. The arrogance of the strong mellowed into consideration +for the weak; wisdom and culture went hand in hand with ignorance +and brawn; malice and rancour left the hearts of the lowly and +met half-way the departing insolence of the lofty; fellowship took +root and throve in a field rich with good deeds. The heart of man +was master here, the brain its humble servant. + +Landover worked hard, doggedly. To all outward appearances, he +had resigned himself to the inevitable. He affected a spirit of +camaraderie and good humour that deceived many. Down in his heart, +however, he was bitterly rebellious. He despised these people as +a class. In his estimation, all creatures who worked for a living +were branded with the obnoxious iron of socialism; he even went +so far as to believe that they were, after a fashion, anarchists! +His conception of anarchy was rather far-reaching; it took in everything +that was contrary to his notion of a satisfactory distribution of +wealth. He believed that every man who worked for a wage was at +heart an enemy to law and order. He regarded the wage-earner as one +whose hand is eternally against the employer, absolutely without +honour, justice or reason. The workingman was for self, always for +self,--and to Landover that was anarchy. + +The thought that people,--men and women,--of the lower classes +possessed physical and mental qualities similar to those possessed +by himself, even in a modified form, was not only repugnant to +him but incredible. They had none of the finer emotions,--such as +love, for instance. He could not conceive of a labouring man loving +his wife and children; it wasn't natural! He pictured the home-life +of the lower classes as nothing short of indecent; there couldn't +be anything fine or noble or enduring in the processes of birth, +existence and death as related to them. Nature took its course +with them, and society,--as represented by the class to which he +belonged,--provided for the litters they cast upon the world. In a +word, Abel Landover's father and grandfather and great-grandfather +had been rich men before him. + +He despised Captain Trigger for the simple reason that that +faithful, gallant sailor was an employee of the company in which he +was a director. It meant nothing to him that Captain Trigger came +of fine, hardy, valiant stock; it meant less to him that he was a law +unto himself aboard the Doraine. For, when all was said and done, +Captain Trigger worked for just so much money per month and doubtless +hated the men who paid him his wage. On board the Doraine,--as was +the case with all other vessels on which he chose to sail,--the +banker sat at the Captain's table. But he did not consider that to +be a distinction or an honour; it was his due. As a matter of fact, +he looked upon himself as the real head of the Captain's table! + +Half a dozen persons in all that company comprised Landover's +circle of desirables. Of the rest, most of them were impossible, +three-fourths of them were "anarchists," all of them were beneath +notice,--except as listeners. As for Percival, if that young man +was not literally and actually a bandit, at least he had all the +instincts of one. In any case, he was a "bum." Whenever Mr. Landover +was at a loss for a word to express contumely for his fellow-man,--and +he was seldom at a loss,--he called him a "bum." + +The women on board were divided into three classes in Landover's +worldly opinion: the kind you would marry (rare), the kind +you wouldn't marry (plentiful), and the kind you wouldn't have to +marry (common). He put Olga Obosky and Careni-Amori in this rather +extensive third class, and even went so far as to set what he +considered a fair value upon them as human commodities! + +He worked with the gang of "log-toters," a term supplied by Percival. +They were the men who carried or dragged the trimmed tree-trunks +from the forest to the camp site, where they were subsequently hewn +into shape for structural purposes by the more skilful handlers of +ax and wedge and saw. + +A certain man named Manuel Crust was the fore-man of this gang. +He was a swarthy, powerful "Portugee" who was on his way to Rio to +kill the pal who had run away with his wife. He was going up there +to kill Sebastian Cabral and live happily for ever afterward. His +idea of future happiness was to sit by the fireside in his declining +years and pleasantly ruminate over the variety of deaths he had +inflicted upon the loathsome Sebastian. In the first place, he was +going to strangle him with his huge, gnarled hands; then he was +going to cut off his ears and nose and stuff them into the vast +slit he had made in his throat; then he would dig his heart out +with a machete; then, one by one, he would expertly amputate his +legs, arms and tongue; afterwards he would go through the grisly +process of disemboweling him; and, then, in the end, he would +build a nice, roaring fire and destroy what remained of Sebastian. +Inasmuch as either of these sanguinary and successive measures might +reasonably be expected to produce the desired result, it will be +seen that Sebastian was doomed to experience at least six horrific +deaths before the avenger got through with him. At any rate, if one +could believe Manuel,--and there seemed to be no end of conviction +in the way he expressed himself,--the luckless home-wrecker, if he +lived long enough, was absolutely certain to die. + +Landover took a strange fancy to Manuel Crust. He was drawn to him +in the first place by the blasphemous things he said about Percival. +In the second place, he enjoyed Manuel's vituperative remarks about +cutting the liver out of the "boss." Notwithstanding the fact that +Manuel was more or less given to cutting the livers out of remote +and invisible persons,--including King Alfonso, the Kaiser, Queen +Victoria (he didn't know she was dead), King Manuel, the Czar of +Russia, the Presidents of all the South American republics, the +Sultan of Turkey, President Roosevelt, and Sebastian Cabral,--Mr. +Landover positively loved to hear him talk. He made a point of +getting him to talk about Percival a great deal of the time. He +also liked the way in which the prodigious Manuel deferred to him. +It inspired the philanthropic motives that led him to share his +very excellent cigars with the doughty foreman. Moreover, he had +something far back in his mind, had Mr. Abel Landover. + +Percival was indefatigable. He set the example for every one else, +and nothing daunted him. The sceptics,--and there were many of them +at the start,--no longer shook their heads as they went about what +once had loomed as a hopeless enterprise, for to their astonishment +and gratification the "camp" was actually becoming a substantial +reality. + +The small group of men who, for obvious reasons, had courted the +favour of Abel Landover at the outset, now went out of their way +to "stand in" with the amazingly popular man of the hour. + +He represented power, he stood for achievement, he rode on the crest +of the wave,--and so they believed in him! Landover may have been +a wizard in New York, but the wizard of Trigger Island was quite +another person altogether,--hence the very sensible defection. + +These gentlemen openly and ardently opposed him on one occasion, +however. It was when he proposed that the island should be named +for the beloved Captain. They insisted that it be called Percival +Island. Failing in this, they advocated with great enthusiasm, +but with no success, the application of Percival's name to almost +every noticeable peculiarity that the island possessed. They +objected fiercely to the adoption of such titles as these: Mott +Haven (the basin); Split Mountain; Gray Ridge (after the lamented +Chief Engineer); Penguin Rocks; The Gate of the Winds; Top o' the +Morning Peak; Dismal Forest (west of the channel); Peter Pan Wood +(east of the channel); Good Luck Channel; Cypress Point; Cape Sunrise +(the extreme easterly end of the island); Leap-frog River; Little +Sandy and Big Sandy (the beaches); Cracko-day Farm; New Gibraltar +(the western end of the island); St. Anthony Falls. Michael O'Malley +Malone christened the turbulent little waterfall up in the hills. +He liked the sound of the name, he claimed, and besides it was about +time the stigma of shame that had so long rested upon the poor old +saint was rewarded by complete though belated vindication. + +Strange to say, no name was ever proposed for the "camp." Back +in the mind of each and every member of the lost company lay the +unvoiced belief,--amounting to superstition,--that it would be +tempting fate to speak of this long row of cabins as anything more +enduring than "the camp." + +Notwithstanding his dominant personality and the remarkable capacity +he had for real leadership, Percival was a simple, sensitive soul. +He writhed under the lash of conspicuous adulation, and there was +a good deal of it going on. + +The satiric Randolph Fitts, notwithstanding his unquestioned admiration +for the younger man, took an active delight in denouncing what he +was prone to allude to as Percival's political aspirations. It is +only fair to state that Fitts confined his observations to a very +small coterie of friends, chief among whom was the subject himself. + +"You are the smartest politician I've ever encountered, and that's +saying a good deal," he remarked one evening as he sat smoking +with a half dozen companions in front of one of the completed huts. +They were ranged in a row, like so many birds, their tired backs +against the "facade" of the cabin, their legs stretched out in front +of them. "You're too deep for me. I don't see just what your game +is, A. A. If there was a chance to graft, I'd say that was it, but +you could graft here for centuries and have nothing to show for it +but fresh air. Even if you were to run for the office of king, or +sultan or shah, you wouldn't get anything but votes,--and you'd +get about all of 'em, I'll say that for you. To a man, the women +would vote for you,--especially if you were to run for sultan. What +is your game?" + +Percival smoked in silence, his gaze fixed on the moonlit line of +trees across the field. + +"And speaking of women, that reminds me," went on Fitts. "When does +my lord and master intend to transplant our crop of ladies?" + +"What's that, Fitts?" said Percival, called out of his dream. + +"Ladies,--what about 'em? When do they come ashore to occupy the +mansions we have prepared for them?" + +"Captain Trigger suggests next week." + +"What's he got to do with it? Ain't you king?" + +"He's got a lot to do with it, you blithering boob." + +"Besides," drawled Peter Snipe, the novelist, picking doggedly at +the calloused ridges on one of his palms, "some of the women object +to moving in the dark of the moon. They say it's sure to bring bad +luck." + +"There's quite a mixup about it," observed Flattner. "Part of 'em +claim it's good luck. Madame Obosky says she never had any good +luck moving by the light of the moon, and Careni-Amori says she +doesn't blame her for feeling that way. Sort of cattish way of +implying that the fair Olga could get along without any moon at +all. Professional jealousy, I suppose." + +"I was speaking to Miss Clinton about it today," remarked Michael +Malone. + +"What does she think about it?" from Percival. + +"I don't know. She asked me what I thought about it." + +"And what did you tell her?" + +"I told her I wasn't a woman, and that let me out. Being a man, +I'm not entitled to a vote or an opinion, and I'd be very much +obliged to her if she'd not try to drag me into it,--and to answer +my question if she could. Whereupon she said she was in favour of +moving by the light of the sun, and payin' no attention at all to +the moon. Which I thought was a very intelligent arrangement. You +see, if they move in the daytime the damned old moon won't know +anything about it till it's too late and--" + +"You're the first Irisher I've ever seen who wasn't superstitious, +Mike," broke in Fitts, with enthusiasm. "It takes a great load off +my mind. Now I can ask you why the devil you've never returned that +pocket-knife of mine. I thought you had some sort of superstition +about it. A good many people,--really bright and otherwise intelligent +people,--firmly believe it's bad luck to return anything that's +been borrowed. I suppose I've owned fifty umbrellas in my time. +The only man who ever returned one,--but you know what happened +without my telling you. He got caught in a sudden shower on his +way home from my apartment after making a special trip to return +it, and died some three years later of pneumonia. Sick two days, +I heard. So, as long as you're not a bit superstitious about it, +I'd thank you--" + +"I'd have you know that I never keep anything I borrow,--that is, +never more than a day. It's against my principles. Don't ask me +for your dommed old knife. I lent it weeks ago to Soapy Shay." + +"You did?" cried Fitts, incredulity and relief in his voice. "Much +obliged. I haven't been able to look Soapy in the face for a month. +Did he recognize it?" + +"I think he did. He kissed it." + +"Landover tried to borrow my lead pencil yesterday," remarked Flattner. +"Finally offered to put up his letter of credit as security. I gave +him the laugh. That lead pencil is worth more than all the letters +of credit lumped together. He wanted to write a note. So I agreed +to let him use it if he wouldn't take it out of my sight and on +condition that he didn't write more than five or six line's. But +when he made as if he was going to sharpen it, I threatened him +with an ax. Can you beat that for wastefulness? These low-down rich +don't know the meaning of frugality. Why, if I hadn't stopped him +he might have whittled off five thousand dollars' worth of lead, +just like that. I also had to caution him about bearing down too +hard while he was writing." + +"What was he wanting to write a note for?" demanded Malone. "Has +he lost his voice?" + +"It was a note of apology. He says he never fails to write a note +of apology when he's done something he's ashamed of, or words to +that effect. Lifelong practice, he says." + +"Who was he apologizin' to?" + +"That little nurse, Miss Lake,--the one with the coral earrings. You +know, Mike. I saw you carrying a bucket of water for her yesterday." + +"Her name isn't Lake," said Malone. "It's Hardwickley. And if you +had your eyes open, you'd have seen me carrying one for her every +day, so you would, my lad." + +"The damned villain!" exploded Flattner. "He told me her name was +Lake,--word with only four letters,--and she turns out to have--let's +see,--eleven! I call that pretty shifty work, I do. You can't trust +these wizards of Wall Street. They'll do you every crack, if you +don't keep your eye peeled. Hornswoggled me out of seven letters." + +"You've got to watch 'em," mused Fitts. "What was he apologizing +to her for?" + +"Something to do with his washing. I don't just remember what it was, +but I think she didn't iron and fold his handkerchiefs properly, +or maybe it was his collars. In any case, he panned her for it, and +afterwards repented. Told me in so many words that he felt like a +blooming cad about it, and couldn't rest till he had apologized." + +Fitts took several puffs at his pipe and then remarked: "That man +has the biggest wash of anybody in this camp. I don't see any real +reason why he should change collars three times a day while he's +hauling logs down from the hills. As a matter of fact, what's the +sense of wearing a collar at all? Most of us don't even wear shirts. +See here, your majesty,--begging your pardon for disturbing your +thoughts with my foot,--why don't you issue a manifesto or edict +or something prohibiting the use of collars except on holidays, or +at weddings, funerals and so forth?" + +Percival yawned. "If Landover didn't have a collar on he'd think +he was stark naked. Gosh, I'd like to go to bed." + +"Why don't you? We'll call you as soon as we get any news," said +Flattner. + +"No, I'll stick it out a while longer. I say, Flat, it begins to +look as if there's real wheat coming up over there after all. Old +Pedro was telling me today that it looks like a cinch unless we got +it sowed too late and cold weather comes along too soon. I never +dreamed we'd get results. Putting out spring wheat in virgin soil +like this is a new one on me. If it does thrive and deliver, by +gosh, a whole lot of agricultural dope will be knocked to pieces. +I thought spring wheat had to be sown in land that was ploughed +the fall before. What's the explanation?" + +"You can't explain nature, A. A.," said Percy Knapendyke. "Nature +does so darned many unnatural things that you can't pin your +faith to it at all. Of course, it was a pure experiment we made. +We happened to have a lot of hard spring wheat, and this alluvial +soil, deep and rich, was worth tackling. Old Pedro was as much +surprised as I was when it began to come up. Using that fertilizer +was an experiment, too. He swore it wouldn't help a bit. Now he +just scratches his head and says God did it. We've got fifty acres +out there as green as paint and you can almost see it grow. If +nothing happens we ought to harvest it by the middle of February, +and if God keeps on doing things for us, we may get as much as +twenty-five bushels to the acre. It's different with the oats. You +can plant oats on unploughed land, just as we did, and you can't +stop it growing. The oats field up there along the base of the +hills is a peach. Takes about ninety days for oats to ripen. That +means we'll harvest it in about two months, and we'll beat the cold +weather to it. Forty or fifty to the acre, if we have any luck at +all. Potatoes doing well and--Say, did I tell you what I've found +out about that stuff growing over there in the lowlands beyond the +river? Well, it's flax. It's the same sort of thing that grows in +New Zealand. Those plants I was pointing out to you last week,--the +ones with the long brownish leaves, like swords. There's no mistake +about it. I took those two Australian sailors over to look at 'em +a day or two ago and they swear it's the same plant, growing wild. +Same little capsule shaped fruit, with the little black seeds, and +everything. I've been reading up on it in the encyclopedia. You +cut those leaves off when they get to be full size, macerate 'em +in water for a few days, sun dry 'em, and then weave 'em some way +or another. We'll have to work that out. Strongest sort of fibre in +the leaves. Makes a very stout cloth, rope, twine,--all that sort +of thing. Opens up a new and important industry, boys,--particularly +obnoxious to married men. We'll be having dress-making establishments +in full blast before you know it, and model gowns till you can't +rest. I almost hate to spread the news among the women. We won't +have a cook, or a laundress, or a school-teacher on the Island if +this dressmaking craze gets started. Every hut along this row will +have a sign beside the door: 'Dressmaking Done Here.' On the other +hand, I doubt very much if we'll be able to get a single tailor-shop +going,--and God knows I'll soon need a new pair of pants, especially +if we're going to have regular church services every Sunday, as +Percival says." + +"Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie have finally got together +on it," said Malone gloomily. "For the first time in the history +of civilization we're going to have a combination Catholic and +Protestant Church. It's all arranged. Father Francisco is going to +conduct mass in the morning and Parson Mackenzie is going to talk +about hell-fire in the evening. I was wondering what the Jews are +going to do for a synagogue and a rabbi." + +"I can't answer that question," said Peter Snipe; "but Morris Shine +tackled me the other day to write a play for him, something with +music and dancing in it. He's got a great idea, he says. A stock +company to use the church building once a month. Expects to submit +his scheme to Fitts as soon as he gets it worked out, with the +idea of having our prize little architect provide for a stage with +ecclesiastical props in the shape of pulpits and chancels and so +forth, which can be removed on short notice. Suggests, as a matter +of thrift, that footlights be put in instead of altar candles. Free +show, free acting, no advertising bills, no royalties to authors, +free programs,--everything free, including supper." + +"Grand little idea, Pete," said Percival. "Are you going to write +the play?" + +"Sure. My faithful old typewriter is aching to be thumped once +more,--and I've got half-a-dozen extra ribbons, thank God. Good +for two long novels and an epitaph. Just as soon as we can get the +ship's printing press and dining-room type ashore, I'll be ready +to issue The Trigger Island Transcript, w.t.f.--if you know what +that means. I see you don't. Weekly till forbidden." + +"I've always wondered what those confounded letters meant down in +the corner of the half-inch advertisements," said Flattner. "It +will be a rotten-looking newspaper if it's anything like the sheet +the Doraine put out on the trip down. No two letters matched, and +some of 'em were always upside down. Why were they upside down, +Pete? You're an old newspaper man. Tell us." + +"Because it's impossible to set 'em sideways. If it was possible, +the blamed printers could do it, you bet. When I was writing leaders +on the Saxville Citizen years ago there was a ruffian up in the +composing-room who used to set whole paragraphs of my best editorials +in em quads, and when I kicked,--Hello, isn't that a lantern, A. +A.?" + +They all scrambled to their feet and peered intently in the +direction of the wooded strip that lined the channel. This whilom +conversation came to an abrupt end. Ghostly forms suddenly took +shape in front of other huts, figures of men that were until then +as logs in the shadows. Far off in the road through the wood, a +light bobbed, flashed and disappeared intermittently, and finally +emerged into the open and came steadily forward. Detached knots +of men down the line of huts, twos and threes and fours, swiftly +welded themselves into groups, and, hurrying forward, swelled the +crowd that congregated at the end of the "street." Two hundred +of them, tired but eager, awaited the arrival of the man with the +lantern. + +These were the men who slept on shore, the unmarried men, those +who had no "feminine hearth," as Snipe put it dolefully one dark +and windy night. Since supper-time these men had been waiting and +watching. But few of them had gone to bed. Gentleman and roustabout, +one and all, were linked together by a common anxiety. News of the +greatest import was expected during the night. + +A child was coming to the pathetic little widow of Cruise, the +radio-man. + +Two messengers had gone down to the landing to wait for the report +to be shouted from the afterdeck of the Doraine,--Soapy Shay and +Buck Chizler, the jockey. Now they were returning,--and it was +nearing midnight. + +They drew near, the lantern buffeting the legs of the one-time diamond +thief as he swung along in the rear of the more active jockey. + +"It's a girl," called out Buck to the silent mob. Not a sound, not +a word from the eager crowd. "Mother and kid both doing well," went +on the jockey, a thrilling note of triumph in his voice. + +And then a roar of voices went up to the moonlit sky. The shackles +of doubt and anxiety fell away, and every heart swelled with joy +and relief. Men began to dance and laugh. Out in front of the crowd +leaped Percival. + +"Come on now, fellows! Everybody up! Three cheers for the Trigger +Island baby! One--two--three!" + +And while the last wild cheer was echoing back from, the mountainside: +"Now, three good ones for the baby's mother, God bless her!" + +Thrice again the exultant yells echoed across the plain, and then +out leaped another excited figure. It was Nicklestick the Jew. + +"Come on! Come on! Ve got to light the bonfires! Come on! I got +the matches! Vait! Vait! Let's vait while we take off our hats a +minute, boys,--take them off to our baby's father, Jimmy Cruise. +No cheers!" + +A hush fell over the crowd. Every hat came off, and every head was +bent. To many of them James Cruise was no more than a name salvaged +from the shocking experiences of those first dreadful days. Few +of them had come in actual contact with him. The time had been too +short. But Betty Cruise, his widow, was known to all of them, high +and low. They had watched over her, and protected her, and slaved +for her, for besides pity there was in every man's soul the fiercest +desire that nothing,--absolutely nothing,--should be left undone to +insure the happy delivery of the babe they were counting so keenly +upon! + +She was a frail, delicate English girl whom Cruise had married in +Buenos Aires the year before. He was taking her up to his mother's +home in Connecticut. His death,--alas, his annihilation!--almost +killed her. There were those who said she would die of grief. But, +broken and frail as she was, she made the fight. And now came the +news that she had "pulled through." + +There were mothers on board with tiny babies,--three or four of them, +in fact,--peevish, squalling infants that innocently undertook to +inspire loathing in the souls of these self-same men. They had no +claim upon the imagination or the sympathy of the eager crowd,--no +such hold as this newcomer, the child born in their pockets, so to +speak,--an expression first employed by an ardent champion of the +impending infant in defending his righteous solicitude when it was +attacked by a sophisticated and at the same time exasperated nurse. + +Two bonfires were started in the open space known as "The Green." +The huge piles of twigs and branches had been thrown up earlier in +the evening. They were in plain view of the "lookout" at the top +of Split Mountain. It had been agreed that if it was a boy one fire +was to be the signal; if a girl, two. The "watch" was to share in +the glad tidings! + +The cheering awoke Abel Landover from a sound sleep. He turned in +his bunk and growled: + +"The damned idiots!" + +Mr. Landover did not like children. He declined to sit up half +the night to find out "how things were going." So he went to bed, +knowing perfectly well that his three bunkies would come piling in +at some outlandish hour and jabber about the "kid," and he wouldn't +be able to get back to sleep again for hours. + +He was what is commonly known as a "grass widower." His wife rather +too promptly married inside of a month after leaving Reno, and, +much to her own gratification and joy, proceeded to have three +very desirable children within a period of five years, causing him +a great deal of pain and annoyance for the reason that their father +had once been regarded as his best friend,--and now he couldn't +abide the sight of him. He hated children. Now you know the kind +of a man he was. + +Five tired and thoughtful men were going to bed a little later on +in one of the huts. + +"What shall we call her?" came from Randolph Fitts, as he threw +one of his clay-covered shoes into the corner. + +"There's only one name for her," said Percival firmly, from the +edge of his bunk. "We'll call her Doraine." + +"Good shot!" cried Peter Snipe. "I had two names in mind, but +Doraine's got 'em both beat. It may not be as pretty as Angelica, +but it's more appropriate. Mortimer was the other name I had in +mind." + +"Yep," was the smothered decision of Michael Malone. His shirt came +off, and then he spoke more distinctly. "We can't do better than +to name her after her birthplace. That's her name. Doraine Cruise. +It sounds Irish. Got music in it. All Irish names have,--leaving +out Michael and Patrick and Cornelius and others applied solely to +the creatures who don't take after their blessed mothers and who +grow up to be policemen and hod-carriers, with once in awhile a +lawyer or labour-leader to glorify the saints they were named for, +and--Yes, begorry, Doraine's her name." + +And so it was that, with an arbitrary quaintness, the babe was +named without so much as a thought of consulting the mother. They +assumed a proprietary interest in her, a sort of corporate ownership +that had as its basis a genuine affection for and pride in Cruise's +widow. It did not occur to one of them that she ought to have been +considered in the matter of naming her own child; they went to sleep +perfectly satisfied that when the question was put to a general vote +on the morrow there wouldn't be a single dissenting voice against +the name they had selected. + +And Mrs. Cruise herself would be very grateful to them for the +prompt assistance they had given her at a time when she was in no +condition to be bothered with minor details! + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + + + +The death of Betty Cruise occurred the second day after her baby +was born. In a way, this lamentable occurrence solved a knotty +problem and pacified two warring sexes, so to speak. For, be it known, +the women of the Doraine took a most determined stand against the +manner in which the men, viva voce, had arrogated unto themselves +the right to name the baby. Not that any one of the women objected +to the name they had given her; they were, in fact, pleased with +it. But, they protested, this was a matter over which but one person +had jurisdiction, and that person was Betty Cruise. If it was not +a mother's privilege to name her own child,--especially in a case +where the infant's father was in no position to decide the question +for her, whether she consented or no, then all they could say was +that things had come to a pretty pass. + +At any rate, they were going to see to it that the baby was not +named by a mob! + +Ruth Clinton went straight to Percival. + +"I hear you have named the baby, Mr. Percival," she said, prefacing +her remark by a curt "good morning." + +It was the first time she had spoken to him in many days. Their +ways not only lay apart but she had made a point of avoiding him. +She stopped him this morning as he was passing the hut in which +she and her aunt were to live with two of the American nurses. + +The three young women had spent several days in the making and +putting up of some very unusual and attractive window curtains +and portieres; painting the stones that framed the fireplace, the +crude window-casings and door jamb; and in draping certain corner +recesses which were to achieve dignity as clothes closets. They were +scrubbing the floor when Percival passed on his way to the "office." + +His "office," by the way, was a rude "lean-to" at the extreme +outer end of the street. It was characteristic of him to establish +headquarters at a point farthest removed from the approach to the +camp from the ship. Fitts was perhaps the only person who sensed +the real motive back of this selection. Every one else attributed +it to an amiable conclusion on Percival's part to sacrifice himself +for others by walking almost twice as far as any of them. As a +matter of fact, he had nothing of the sort in mind. He deliberately +arranged it so that all operations should be carried on between +headquarters and "home." It was his plan to drive inward instead of +outward, to push always in one direction. In other words, thought +Fitts quite correctly, he "never had to look behind him for trouble." + +To save his life, Percival could not subdue the eager, devouring +gleam that flashed into his eyes as he looked into hers. He could +have cursed himself. A swift warm flush raced from her throat +to her cheeks. Her direct, steady gaze faltered under fire, and +a confused, trapped expression flickered perceptibly for a moment +or two. He mistook it for dismay, or, on second thought, even +worse,--displeasure. + +"I--I can't help it," he stammered, surprised into voicing the +thought that was uppermost. "You know how I feel. I--I--" + +But she had recovered her self-possession. "Do you really think +you have the right to name Mrs. Cruise's baby?" she inquired coolly. + +He managed a wry, deprecatory smile. "Everybody seems to like the +name, Miss Clinton. The more I think of it myself, the better it +sounds. I tried it out last night in all sorts of combinations. It +fits nicely into almost any family tree--even Nicklestick's. Just +say it to yourself. Doraine Nicklestick. Try any name you like. +Doraine Smith, Doraine Humperdinck, Doraine Landover--even Doraine +Shay--and, I tried it out with Clinton. Doraine Clinton. Don't you +like it? I even tried Percival. It isn't quite so satisfying tacked +onto a name like mine,--and it's a poor beginning for Fitts,--but +with good, sensible surnames, it's fine." + +"It isn't a question of how it sounds, Mr. Percival." + +"Don't you like Doraine Clinton?" + +"I like almost anything better than Ruth. I suppose most people +loathe the names that other people have given them." + +"No one knows that better than I. I sometimes wonder what they +might have called me if I were a girl. Nothing as nice as Doraine, +or Ruth, I'll bet my soul on that. Something like Guinevere Aphrodite, +or Desdemona Venus, or--" + +"We are getting away from the subject," she interrupted crisply. +"Has it occurred to you that poor little Mrs. Cruise might like +to name her own baby? Why should you men take it upon yourselves +to choose a name for her child? Don't you think you were a trifle +high-handed in the matter?" + +"Of course, if Mrs. Cruise doesn't like Doraine, we will--" + +"You will suggest another, I suppose," she broke in scornfully. +"Well, I may as well inform you that you are about to strike a snag," +she went on, a trifle inelegantly in her desire to be emphatic. "We +intend to see to it that the mother of that baby gives it a name +of her own choosing." + +"May I inquire just who you mean by we?" he asked. + +"The women,--three hundred of us, Mr. Percival, that's who. I for +one happen to know that Betty Cruise chose a name long ago. Her +heart is set on naming the baby after her mother,--Judith, I think +it is. That's the name she wants, but do you imagine she will have +the hardihood or the courage, poor little scrap, to oppose you, +Mr. Percival? I mean you, personally. She thinks your word is law. +She would no more think of defying you than she would think of--" + +"Pardon me, Miss Clinton," he interrupted gently, "but don't you +think that's a trifle far-fetched? I am not a dictator, you know. +I fancy Mrs. Cruise knows that, even if you do not." + +"I have heard all about your meeting last night," she went on +ruthlessly, her eyes flashing. "How you suggested the name, how +you settled the question to suit yourself, and how you called the +men together this morning and told them that the child was to be +called Doraine before you asked them to vote on it. Vote on it! +What a travesty! And no one had the nerve to stand up and say a +word for that poor little woman. Oh, you've got them well-tamed, +Mr. Percival." + +By this time the two nurses had appeared in the doorway, and several +other women at work down the line, scenting the fray, were approaching. + +"I guess you'd better call off the vote, Mr. Percival," said one +of the nurses, eyeing him unflinchingly. + +"I can't call it off. The men adopted the name unanimously. I have +no right to set aside their decision, no matter how hastily it was +made," said he, beginning to bridle now that he tasted concerted +opposition. + +"I warn you that I intend to call the women,--and what few men +there are with minds of their own,--together this evening to see +that Betty Cruise gets fair play," said Ruth. "When she hears that +we are behind her, she'll have the backbone to tell you men to mind +your own business and--" + +"Have I a mind of my own or not, Miss Clinton?" he interrupted. + +"You certainly have," she declared with conviction. + +"Then you may expect me to be one of the men to attend your meeting. +Good morning." He lifted his hat, smiled and walked briskly away. + +"He'll crab the whole thing," observed one of the women, and despite +her vocal rancour there was an admiring expression in her eyes as +they followed him down the road. + +"If he wants to call that baby Andrew Jackson or George Washington, +he'll have his way," said another. "Sex won't make any difference +to him." + +"You just wait and see," said Ruth, quivering with indignation. + +"Mercy, how you must hate him, Miss Clinton," cried one of her +house-mates. + +"I only wish I were a man," cried the other, clenching her fists. + +"It would simplify matters tremendously," came in dry, masculine +tones from the outskirts of the group. They turned and discovered +Randolph Fitts. He was smiling sympathetically. + +"I don't quite see what you mean, Mr. Fitts," said Ruth, after a +moment. + +"Because if you were a man, Miss Clinton, you wouldn't even think +of hating him. You'd love him." + +Miss Clinton stared at him for a second or two and then, whirling, +entered the hut. Her cheeks were burning. Who shall say whether +the tears that sprang to her eyes as she fell to work scrubbing in +the corner were of anger or self-pity? + +Briefly, the situation became quite strained as the day wore on. +Women gathered in little knots to discuss the unprecedented "nerve" +of the men. By nightfall they were pretty thoroughly worked up over +a matter that had mildly amused them at the outset of the day. A +comparatively small proportion had cared one way or the other in the +beginning. Most of them did not care at all. Given time, however, +to digest the thought, aided by such seasoning as could be supplied +by a half dozen determined and more or less eloquent voices, they +came in the course of a few hours to the conclusion that they never +had heard of anything so outrageous, and, to a woman, were ready +to fight for little Mrs. Cruise's rights! + +Several of the stewardesses and two or three women from +the second cabin were avowed and bitter suffragettes. Indeed, two +of the stewardesses, being English, were of the hatchet-wielding, +brick-throwing element that made things so warm for the pained but +bull-headed male population of London shortly before the Great War +began. These ladies harangued their companions with great effect. + +To have heard or witnessed the little gatherings at noon and at +the close of work for the day, one might have been led to believe +that a grave, portentous ques-tion of state was involved. Trifling +and simple as all this may seem to the reader of this narrative, +it serves a definite purpose. It reveals to a no uncertain degree +the eagerness with which these castaways reached out hungrily +for the slightest morsel that would satisfy the craving of active +minds dulled by the constant, never-absent thought of self; minds +charged with thoughts that centred on something thousands of miles +away; minds that seldom if ever worked in harmony with hands that +toiled. + +The men took up the gauntlet. They considered themselves challenged. +Notwithstanding the secret conviction that the women were right, +they stood united in defence of their action. Nothing that Percival +could say or do moved them. He tramped from one group of toilers +to another, always meeting with the same grins and laughter when +he suggested that they wait until Mrs. Cruise was able to approve +or disapprove of the name they had chosen. + +"Good gosh!" cried one of the sailors. "Are you goin' to give in +to the women, boss?" + +"Well, I've been thinking it over, boys. I guess we were a little +too officious. We meant well, God knows, but after all, Betty Cruise +ought to be consulted,--now, oughtn't she?" + +"Sure," cried any number of them cheerfully. "It's her kid." + +"Well, there you are," he rejoined persuasively. + +"But how do we know she won't be tickled to death with our name? +She'd ought to be. It's purtier than any name I can think of," +argued Jack Wales, a sailor. "When she's well enough, we'll tell +her the kid's name is Doraine, and--" + +"She won't hold back a second, boss, when she finds out that you +picked it for her," broke in another. "Only a couple o' days ago +she was sayin' to one of the other women in my hearin' that if it +was a boy she was goin' to call him Percival,--and she didn't know +what on earth she'd do if it was a girl. Said she'd probably have +to call it after her mother and she didn't like her mother's name +a little bit." + +"I know, but after all, we did butt in a trifle too soon with our--" + +"For God's sake, don't let any of these here women hear you talk +like that, boss," groaned Jack Wales. "They'll think we're beginning +to hedge. We got to stand together in this thing. If we don't, +they'll rule this camp sure as you're a foot high. I don't give a +dern what the kid's name is, far as I'm concerned, but on principle, +boss, it's just got to be Doraine. Doraine she is an' Doraine she +stays." + +Every one of them was good-humoured about it. They were taking it +as a rare and unexpected bit of politics. The thrill of opposition +invested them. They scoffed at surrender. + +Buck Chizler, however, was seriously affected. He was courting one +of the nurses and he, for one, saw peril in preliminary defeat. + +"There won't be any living with 'em," he proclaimed, scowling +darkly. "I know what it is to have 'em get the bit in their teeth. +You just can't manage 'em, that's all. Upset all the dope. Likely +to throw you clear over the fence. Experience ain't a particle of +use. The gad don't do a bit of good. They just shut their jaws, +lay back their ears, and--" + +"We're not talking about race-horses, Buck," interrupted Percival, +smiling. + +"Neither am I," said Buck forcibly. + +Ruth went to Olga Obosky. She did so only after a rather prolonged +inward struggle. The Russian's interest in Percival was not moderated +by the reserve supposed to be inherent in women. She was an open +idolatress. One had only to watch the way she followed him with her +dark, heavy-lidded eyes to know what was in her mind. Ruth tried +not to despise her. She tried not to care, when she saw Percival +laughing and talking with this beguiling sensualist,--and it was +not an infrequent occurrence. + +The dancer was seated on the floor of her hut, tailor-fashion, +a cigarette between her lips, her bare arms resting limply on her +knees, her body bent forward in an attitude of extreme fatigue. The +three "coryphees" were busy at work about the place with Olga's +maid. Ruth stopped in the doorway. Olga lazily removed the cigarette +from her lips and smiled. + +"I once thought I was very strong and unbreakable," she said, "but +now I know I am not. See, I am all in, as we would say in America. +Suffering snakes,--how tired I am! That also comes from America. +Won't you sit down, Miss Clinton? We have three or four deck chairs, +you see, and some cushions." + +"Why do you sit there on the floor, all doubled up and--heavens, +it must be uncomfortable,--if you are so tired? How do you manage +your legs?" + +"My legs? Oh, my legs are never tired. It is my poor back." +Whereupon she slowly, gracefully straightened out one of her legs, +and without changing the position of her body, raised it, with toes +and instep on a perfect line, until the heel was some three feet +from the floor. Then she swung it slowly backward, twisting her +body sinuously to one side. A mo-ment later the foot was stretched +out behind her and she lifted herself steadily, without apparent +exertion, upon the other knee,--and then stood erect. Ruth watched +this remarkable feat in wonder and admiration. + +"How--how on earth do you do it?" she cried. "Why,--you must be as +strong as--as--a--" She was about to say horse, and floundered. + +"But I trust not as clumsy as one," said Madame Obosky, stretching +her body in luxurious abandon. "I sit on the floor like zat, my +friend, because my back is tired, not my legs. If I lie back in ze +deck chair when I am tired, I would relax,--and would make so much +more regret for myself when the time came to get up again. Besides, +it is a good way to rest, zis way. Have you never tried it? Do, +sometime. The whole body rests, it sags; the muscles have nothing +to do, so they become soft and grateful. The backbone, the shoulders, +the neck,--they all droop and oh, zey--they are so happy to be like +zat. It is the same as when I am asleep and they are not running +errands all the time for my brain. The Arab sits like zat when he +rests,--and the Hindoo,--and they are strong, oh, so very strong. +Try it, sometime, Miss Clinton, when you are very tired. It is the +best way to let go, all over." + +Ruth laughed. "I couldn't do it to save my soul." + +"Oh, I do not mean for you to get up as I did, or use your leg as +I did. You could not do zat. You are too old. That is one of the +fruits, one of the benefits of the cruelest kind of child labour. +I was a great many years in making myself able to do zat. See! Put +your hand on my leg. Now my back,--my arm. What you think, eh?" + +Ruth, in some embarrassment, had shyly obeyed her. The dancer's +thigh was like a column of warm iron; her waist, free as ever +from stays, was firm and somehow suggestive of actual resilience; +her shoulders and back possessed the hard, rippling muscles of a +well-developed boy; her shapely forearm was as hard as steel. Ruth +marvelled. + +"How strong you are!" she cried; "and yet you are slight. You are +not as big as I am, but oh, how much stronger you are!" + +"I have a perfect figure," said Olga calmly. "It is worth preserving. +No one admires my body so much as I do myself. I must not get fat. +When you are a fat old woman, I shall still be as I am now. You +will diet, and pray, and rave,--because you are growing old,--and +I shall do none of these things. I eat like a pig, I never pray, +and I do not believe in growing old. But you do not come to see me +about myself, Miss Clinton. You find me sitting idly with my legs +crossed, and you are surprise. I work as I dance,--very, oh, so very +hard while I am at ze task,--but with frequent periods of rest. So +I do not wear out myself too soon. It is the only way. Work for an +hour, rest for ten minutes,--relax and forget,--and you will see +how well it goes. Why do you come? Is it to talk about the baby?" + +"Yes, it is, Madame Obosky. I have come to ask you to use your +influence with Mr. Percival. You--" + +"But I have no influence with Mr. Percivail," interrupted the other, +staring. + +Ruth flushed. "You are his friend. You--" + +"Ah, yes,--but nothing more than zat. You too are his friend, Miss +Clinton." + +"I see little or nothing of Mr. Percival," said Ruth stiffly. "We +are not friends,--not really friends." + +"But you admire him, eh? Quite as much as I admire him,--and as +every one else does." + +"There are certain things about him that I admire, of course." + +"You admire him for the same reason that I admire him. Because he +has a most charming and agreeable way of telling me to go to the +devil. Is that not so?" + +"Madame Obosky!" + +"It comes to the same thing. If you would like me to put it in +another form, he has a very courteous way of resisting. He is most +aggravating, Miss Clinton. He is most disappointing. He should be +like soft clay in our hands, and he isn't. Is that not so?" + +"Is it not possible, Madame Obosky, that we,--you and I,--may +have an entirely different viewpoint so far as Mr. Percival is +concerned? Or any other man, for that matter?" Ruth spoke coldly, +almost insultingly. + +"I dare say," agreed Olga, composedly, not in the least offended +by the implication. "You want to marry him. I do not." + +"How dare you say that? I do not want to marry that man. I do not +want to marry him, I say." + +"How interesting. You surprise me, Miss Clinton. It appears, then, +that our viewpoint is in nowise different, after all." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"I leave it to your imagination,--and to reflection. Listen! We may +as well be friends. You do not wish to admit it, even to yourself, +but you are in love with him. So am I. The difference between us +is that I realize I can get along without him, and still be happy. +I am not jealous, my dear. If I were, I should hate you,--and I do +not. He is in love with you. You know it perfectly well, because +you are not a fool. He is not in love with me. No more am I a fool. +He--" + +"I am not in love with him!" + +"So be it," said Olga shortly. "Have your own way about it. It is +not my affair. You have come to me, however, because you know he +loves you and you know you do not love him. Why, therefore, are +you afraid of me?" + +"It is useless to continue this--" + +"Oh, I see! You do not wish my girls to hear our conversation." +Without more ado, she ordered the three girls out of the hut. +"Go out and play," she commanded. Then, as the girls imparted in +haste, she turned to Ruth. "I am very thoughtless. You are not in +the habit of discussing your love affairs quite so generously as +I. Poof! They do not care, those girls. Love affairs mean nothing +to my girls." + +"I have no love affair to discuss, Madame Obosky. You need not have +sent them away. Good-bye..There is nothing more to be said--" + +"Do not go away,--please. You do not know whether to like me or not. +You do not understand me. You have never encountered any woman as +honest as I am, zat is the trouble. Sit down, please. Let us talk. +We may be here together on this island all the rest of our lives, +Miss Clinton. It would not be right for us to hate each other. +When you are married to Mr. Percivail, you will have nothing to +fear from me. I give you my solemn oath on zat, Miss Clinton. Our +little world here is too small. If we were out in the great big +world,--well, it might be different then. But, how, I ask you, is +it possible for me to run away with your husband when there is no +place to run away to?" + +She spoke so quaintly that Ruth smiled in spite of herself. + +"You are a most extraordinary person, Madame Obosky. I--I can't +dislike you. No, thank you, I sha'n't sit down. I came to see you +about the naming of the baby. I suppose you know that we women have +decided to oppose the--" + +"Yes, yes,--I know," interrupted the other. "But why should we +oppose? It is a very small matter." + +"Do you really believe those men had--or have--the right to give +a name to Betty Cruise's baby? I don't believe it, Madame Obosky." + +"In the first place, can you blame Mr. Percivail for taking the +matter out of the mother's hands? Mothers are very, oh, so very +stupid sometime, you know. For example, my dear Miss Clinton, you +have but to see what Mr. Percivail's mother did to him when he was +an infant. She called him Algernon Adonis,--and why? Because she +thought he was the most wonderful child in all the world,--and +because she was silly. I can almost hear her arguing now with the +father, poor man. One day I asked Algernon Adonis what name his +father called him by,--I was so sure he would not call him Algernon. +He said that up to the day his father died he called him Bud. That's +a toy's name, you see. I am in favour of children being named by +outsiders, disinterested outsiders,--a committee or something,--men +preferably. I think this child should be called Doraine. Betty +Cruise she do not care what she call it now that it is not possible +to call it Jimmy Percivail or Percivail Jimmy. Has it occur to you +that if it had been a boy, all these men would have insisted on +Jimmy, without the Percivail?" + +"I like the name Doraine,--we all do. What we resent is Mr. Percival's +presumption in--" + +"Let me tell you one more thing. Do not permit Mr. Percivail to +address your indignation meeting tonight, for if you do, and he +smiles zat nice, good-humoured smile and tells the ladies zat he +is sorry to have displease them, and zat he is to blame entirely +for the blunder,--poof! Zat will be the end!" + +"I am not so sure of that," said Ruth. "There are some very determined +women among us, Madame Obosky." A faint line appeared between her +eyes, however,--a line acknowledging doubt and uncertainty. "And +you will not join us in the protest?" + +"No," said Olga, shaking her head. "I am content to let the men +have their way in small things, Miss Clinton. It makes zem--them +so much easier to manage when it comes to the big things. I speak +from experience. Once let a man think he is monarch of all he +surveys and he becomes the most humble of subjects. As I have said +before, we may all be here for a long, long time. No one can tell. +So, I say, we must pat our men on the back and tell zem what great, +wise, strong fellows they are,--and how good and gallant too. Then +they will fight for us like the lion, and zey--they will work for +us like the ass and the oxen, because man he enjoys to be applauded +greatly. A man likes to have his hair rubbed gently with the finger +tips. He will smile and close his eyes and if he knew how he would +purr like the cat. But, my dear, he do not like to have his hair +pulled. Zat is something for you to remember,--you and all your +determined women, as you call them." + +"Of course you understand, Madame Obosky, I--and the other women,--are +thinking only of Betty Cruise in this matter." + +"From what I have been told, all these men out here stayed awake +half the night thinking about her, Miss Clinton. They behave like +so many distracted fathers waiting for news from the bed-chamber. +Bless their hearts, you might think from their actions that the +whole two--three hundred of them consider themselves the consolidated +father of zat single infant." + +"I must be getting back to my work," said Ruth abruptly. Her eyes +were shining, her voice was soft and strangely thick. "But," she +went on bravely, after clearing her throat, "we intend to fight it +out with them, just the same, Madame Obosky." + +Olga went to the door with her. + +"You mean, you intend to fight it out with Mr. Percivail,--you +yourself, eh?" + +"It is not a personal matter with me, let me remind you once more. +He is their leader. He dominates them. He is the force that holds +them together. That's all." + +"And you would render that force impotent, eh? I see. How wise you +women are!" + +Ruth stopped short, struck by the remark. "Say that again, please." + +Olga repeated the words slowly, significantly, and added: "They +might have a worse leader, Miss Clinton." + +At another time, Ruth Clinton would have been deeply impressed by +the underlying significance of the Russian's words. But she was +at the mercy of a stubborn, rebellious pride. She chose to ignore +the warning that lay in Obosky's remark. She felt herself beaten, +and she was defiant. It was too late to hark now to the mild, +temperate voice of reason. + +Something rankled deep down in her soul, something she was ashamed +to acknowledge even to herself. It was the disagreeable conviction +that Percival ascribed her activities to nothing more stable than +feminine perversity,--in fact, she had the uncomfortable feeling +that he even went so far as to attribute them to spitefulness. +Something in his voice and manner, as he left her that morning, +suggested the kindly chiding of a wilful child. Well, he should +see! + +"I don't care what it all comes to, Madame Obosky," she said, a +red spot in each cheek. "He shall not name that baby." + +The Russian smiled. "Forgive me for saying that you will not feel +so bitterly toward him when the time comes for him to name your +baby." + +Ruth's lips fell apart. She stared for a moment in sheer astonishment. +Then she paled with anger. Drawing herself to her full height, she +asked: + +"Are you deliberately trying to make me despise you?" + +"By no means," replied the other, quite cheerfully. "I am merely +giving you something to think about, zat is all." + +"Rubbish!" was all that Ruth flung over her shoulder as she walked +away. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V + + + + + +It was the noon hour. Scores of men were resting in the shade of +the huts as she strode briskly past. They all smiled cheerily, but +there was good humoured mockery in their smiles. Here and there +were groups of women talking earnestly, excitedly. + +Abel Landover was leaning in his doorway, watching her approach. +His eyes gleamed. She was very beautiful, she was very desirable. +She had been in his mind for months,--this fine, strong, thoroughbred +daughter of a thoroughbred gentleman. His sleeves were rolled up, +his throat was bare; his strong, deeply lined face was as brown +as a berry; if anything, his cold grey eyes were harder and more +penetrating than in the days when they looked out from a whiter +countenance. He was a strong, dominant figure despite, the estate +to which he had fallen,--a silent, sinister figure that might well +have been described as "The Thinker." For he was always thinking. + +"I understand you tackled the 'boss' this morning, Ruth," he said +as she came up. + +"I daresay the news is all over the island by this time," she +replied, still angry. + +"Was it worth while?" he inquired, a trace of derision in his voice. + +She was on the point of replying rather emphatically in the +negative, when suddenly she recalled the look in Percival's eyes +and the first words he spoke to her. She caught her breath. Her +eyes sparkled, her lips parted in a rosy smile. + +"Yes, Mr. Landover, it was worth while," she said, and went on, +leaving him to reflections that were as perplexing as they were +unanticipated. + +She experienced a short spell of triumph. After all, Percival was +in love with her. She did not need Olga Obosky to tell her that. +She could see, she could feel for herself. A certain glee possessed +her,--indeed, as she afterwards succeeded in analysing the sensation, +it bordered decidedly on malice. She had it in her power to make +him miserable and unhappy. She would enjoy seeing him unhappy! + +The meanness of the woman who longs to injure the man who loves +her, whether loved or unloved, revealed itself for the moment in +this fair-minded, generous girl. (It is a common trait, admitted by +many fair-minded and generous women!) But even as she coddled and +encouraged the little sprout of vengeance, the chill of common-sense +rushed up and blighted it. + +She had a sickening impression that Percival would fail to play +the part according to her conception. In fact, he was quite capable +of not playing it at all. He would pursue the even tenor of his +way--(she actually made use of the time-honoured phrase in her +reflections),--and she would get small satisfaction out of that. + +Moreover, there was Olga Obosky to be reckoned with. She was conscious +of a hot, swiftly passing sense of suffocation as the thought of +Olga rushed unbidden into her brain,--for an instant only,--and +then came the reaction: a queer chill that raced over her body from +head to foot. What part would Olga Obosky play in the game? + +The women congregated on the forward deck of the Doraine after +supper that night. The evening repast was no longer dignified by +the word dinner. The sky was inky black; not a star flickered in +the vault above. There were low, far off mutterings of thunder. +The rail lanterns,--few and far between,--threw their pallid beams +down into the rippling basin in a sickly effort to penetrate the +gloom. + +Captain Trigger and Mr. Mott, smoking their pipes on the makeshift +bridge, studied the throng of women in dour silence. + +"I understand the farmers are praying for rain," remarked Mr. Mott, +sniffing the air with considerable satisfaction. + +"It would do no end of good," said Captain Trigger, without taking +his eyes from the chattering mass below. + +Mr. Codge, the purser, joined them. + +"What are they waiting for?" he asked. "Why don't they call the +meeting to order?" + +"They did that half an hour ago," said Mr. Mott. "Good Lord, man, +can't you hear them talking? Have you no ears at all?" + +"But they're all talking at once." + +"And why shouldn't they?" demanded the First Officer. "It's their +meeting, isn't it?" + +"I met Miss Clinton as I was coming up. She was going to her room. +I asked her how the meeting was getting along. I don't believe she +understood me, because all she said was 'good-night.'" + +"I guess she understood you, all right," said Mr. Mott, again +sniffing the air. "Seems to me it's getting a little nearer, Captain +Trigger. There's a little breeze coming up, too." + +"A good thunder-storm,--" began the Captain, musingly, but failed +to complete the sentence. + +"Would settle something besides the dust," said Mr. Codge, after +a deferential wait of a few seconds. + +A figure detached itself from the mass on the weirdly lighted deck +below and, approaching the perch of the three officers, came to a +halt almost directly below them. The light of a lantern fell fairly +on the upturned, smiling face of Olga Obosky. + +"What is the hour, Captain Trigger?" she inquired. + +"Almost nine, Madame Obosky. + +"That is nearly two bells, eh, yes? How peaceful you look up there, +you three old owls." + +"Come up!" invited the Captain cheerily. She joined them a moment +later. "Tell me, are they leaving a shred of Percival and his band +of outlaws?" + +Mr. Codge struck a match and held it for her to light a cigarette. +She inhaled deeply and then expelled the smoke in what seemed like +a prolonged sigh of satisfaction. + +"They are very funny, those women," she said, placing her elbows +on the rail and looking down at the crowd. "Do you know what the +trouble is now? It is this: they cannot think of a way to condemn +the action of those men as a body without also including Mr. +Percivail in the verdict." + +"How's that?" + +"Ninety-five per cent, of them want to exonerate Mr. Percivail, +but they don't know how to do it in view of the fact that he is the +guiltiest man of them all. That's why I say they are very funny, +those women. They approve of what he has done in naming the baby, +because whatever he does must be right, but they are almost unanimous +in charging that all the other men out there were wrong. So they +are in a great dilemma." + +Captain Trigger laughed. "I see. What was Miss Clinton's position +in the debate?" + +"Oh, she was one of those who insisted that Mr. Percivail alone be +held accountable, the other men not at all. She was the chairman, +you see, and they were oblige to listen to her at first. But zen, +presently, one of those Brazilian ladies said it was a shame to +put all the blame on dear Mr. Percivail, who is such a gentleman +and so splendid and all zat,--and zen--then zat Mrs. Block jump +up and say that if it was not for Mr. Percivail her husband would +have been killed last week when he fell off of the landing into ten +sousand feet of water. And the great Careni-Amori she get up and +say she would die for Mr. Percivail because he is such a gentleman, +and two of those nurses at the same time cry out that he ought +to be in the hospital because he is so worn-out working for other +people zat he can hardly drag his poor feet around. And so it goes. +Miss Clinton has departed, her chin in the air. But she does not +deceive me. She has gone to her room to have a good weeping." + +"Well, I wish they'd get together on something," growled the Captain; +"so's we can all go to bed and get a few hours' sleep." + +"Like as not they're keeping the baby awake with all this jabbering," +said Mr. Codge. "And that isn't good for babies, you know. They've +got to have plenty of sleep. Specially little ones." + +"Will you tell me, Captain Trigger, why Mr. Percivail did not come +aboard tonight?" asked Olga suddenly. "They were expecting him." + +"And they were disappointed, eh?" + +"I dare say. At any rate, a good many of them kept peering out over +the water most of the time, and listening for the sound of oars." +She laughed softly. + +The men chuckled. "Talk about strategy," said Mr. Mott, "he's a +bird at it. Keeps 'em guessing, he does. By glory, I wish I'd known +how to handle women as well as he does. I might have been married +fifteen or twenty times if I could have kept 'em anxious and +worried,--but I couldn't. I never did have any sense about women. +That's why I'm a bachelor instead of a grandfather." + +"He told Miss Clinton he was coming," said Olga, harking back to +the unanswered question. + +"I daresay he changed his mind," said the Captain, rather evasively. + +"I do not believe zat. There is some other reason. He is not a +woman, Captain Trigger." + +"Well, to tell you the truth--but don't let it go any farther, +Madame,--he came aboard just before supper to find out how Mrs. +Cruise is getting along. Dr. Cullen told him exactly what all these +women down there know,--that she's very low,--so he went ashore. +Said something about not wanting to take part in any racket that +might disturb her,--noisy talk, and all that,--and left a bunch of +wild flowers for her in case she was better by morning." + +There was a slight noise behind them. Turning, they saw the figure +of a woman in the shadow of the deck house. + +"Who's there?" demanded Mr. Mott. + +Ruth Clinton stepped forward into the light. + +"Did he--did he do that?" she asked huskily. + +"He did," said the Captain. + +"And is she so very ill? I did not know, Captain Trigger." + +"She's likely to die, Miss Clinton,--poor little woman." + +Ruth was silent for a moment. Then: "Do you think she--she can hear +all that hubbub down there?" + +"I am sure she cannot. But Percival was afraid she could, so he--well, +he thought it best not to make it any worse by adding his groans +of agony when you women tore him limb from limb out here on deck. +That's the way he put it, so don't look at me like that." + +Ruth suddenly hung her head and walked away. As she disappeared +down the steps, Mr. Codge remarked, sotto voce: + +"She isn't as rabid as she was, is she?" + +"She's got it in for Percival ever since he took that fall out of +Landover," said Mr. Mott. + +"Think she's--er--keen on Landover? He's a good bit older than she +is,--twenty years or so, I should say." + +"Don't ask me, Codge. As I was saying awhile ago, I don't know +anything whatsoever about women. They know all about me, but, gosh, +I'm worse than a baby goat where they're concerned. There's no law +against her being in love with Landover, and there's no law against +him marrying a woman fifty years younger'n himself if he feels like +it. Now you take that good looking Russian over there talking to +the Captain. Who knows what's in her mind? Nobody, sir,--nobody. +All I know is that Landover tried to--" + +"Sh! They've got ears like cats," cautioned Mr. Codge. + +"--And she put him in his place so quick it made his head swim. +That's why he's got it in for her so hard. He says she's not fit +for decent women to associate with. On the other hand, if she had +been willing to flirt a little with him, and so on, he would have +said all the other women were cats if they refused to take up with +her. That's a man all over for you, Codge. I hope Miss Clinton +ain't considering getting married to that man. He's one of these +here what-do-you-call-'ems? Er--" + +"Sybarites?" said Codge, who had picked up a good deal from +conversations with Peter Snipe. + +"That ain't the word," said Mr. Mott. "Now, I'll lay awake all +night trying to think of that word. Damn the luck!" + +He fell into a profound state of mental concentration, from which +he was aroused a few minutes later by the swift and almost unheralded +shower that rushed up ahead of the thunderstorm. The rumble of the +"apple carts" in the vault above had suddenly become ominous, and +there were fitful flares of light in the blackness. + +The indignation meeting broke up in a wild scurry of skirts. It is +worthy of mention that nothing definite had transpired. The speeches +of the ardent suffragettes from the wilds of London were all that +the most exacting could have demanded, for they covered all of +the known and a great many of the unsuspected iniquities that the +masculine flesh is heir to, but except for an introductory sentence +or two they failed to touch upon the object of the meeting. They all +began with something like "While I am frank to admit that Doraine +is a very pretty name," or "Notwithstanding the fact that Doraine +is a lovely name," or "If I had a child of my own, I should not in +the least object to calling her Doraine," and so on and so forth, +but they cruelly abandoned the baby in the next breath, leaving it +to be revived by the ensuing speaker. + +The rain came just in time to prevent a vote being taken on a motion +made by Miss Gladys Spotts. She moved that a committee of three be +appointed to serve notice on Captain Trigger, et al, that it was +the unanimous sense of the meeting that the women should not only +have voice and vote on all public questions, but also representation +in the official government. She had learned that there was talk of +electing a mayor, a town clerk, a treasurer, a sheriff and a board +of commissioners, and it ought to be understood in advance that-- + +The torrent came at that instant, but it requires a very slight +stretching of the imagination in order to understand precisely what +Miss Spotts insisted ought to be understood. + +It rained very hard all night, and thundered, and lightened, and +blew great guns. Not one, but all of the women, tucked away in +their bunks, wondered how those poor men were faring out there in +that black and lonely camp! + +The next morning it was still raining. (In fact, it rained steadily +for three days and nights.) Betty Cruise died shortly after daybreak, +and with her death ended the controversy over the naming of her +babe. + +She was the first to be laid to rest in the burying-ground on Cape +Sunrise. Services were conducted on the Doraine by the Reverend Mr. +Mackenzie, assisted by Father Francisco. All work was suspended on +the morning of the funeral. Shortly before noon the entire company +walked, in a long, straggling procession, from the landing to +the spot three miles distant where the lonely grave awaited its +occupant. Careni-Amori sang "Lead, Kindly Light" and "Nearer, my +God, to Thee," at the graveside. There were tears in a thousand +eyes, and every voice was husky. To most of these people, Betty +Cruise meant nothing, but she was to lie out there alone on the +wind-swept point, and they were deeply moved. They all went back +to work after the midday meal, a strangely silent, thoughtful +company,--even down to the lowliest "Portugee." + +Mr. Mott, the gaunt old cynic, surprised every one, including +himself, by adopting the infant! He announced his decision on the +day after the funeral. + +"That baby's got to have a father and a grandfather and a mother, +and all that," he declared to Captain Trigger, "and I'm going to be +all of them, Weatherby. It ain't legal, I know, and I reckon I'll +have to turn her over to her proper relatives if they make any +demand,--provided we ever get off this island,--but while she's +here she's mine, and that settles it, and as long afterward as God's +willing. Chances are that no one at home will want to be bothered +with an infant that don't actually belong to 'em, so I shouldn't +wonder but what I'll have her always. What are you laughing at?" + +"I was just thinking that you didn't mention anything about being +a grandmother to her." + +"Is that meant to be sarcastic?" + +"Not at all," said the Captain hastily, noting the look in Mr. +Mott's eyes. "But for fear you may think it was, I take it all +back, Andrew." + +"I laid awake all last night worrying about how lonely and useless +and unoccupied I'm going to be if we stick here on this island for +any considerable length of time, not to say, always, and I made +up my mind that if I had that kid to bring up, life would be sort +of worth while. I'll probably live a good deal longer if I have +something to live and work for. Ain't that so?" + +"It certainly is," agreed the Captain. "Do you mind my asking how +you're going to feed it?" + +"I've got that all attended to," said Mr. Mott calmly. "I've been +to see three of these women who've got tiny babies, and they've +promised between 'em to nurse this one. It's all fixed, Captain. +Of course, I don't know how it's going to work out, seeing as one +of 'em is Spanish, one of 'em Portugee and the other a full-blooded +Indian,--but they're all healthy." + +"It's very noble of you, Andrew," said the Captain, laying his hand +on the First Officer's shoulder. + +"Absolutely not," snapped Mr. Mott. "It's nothing but plain, rotten +selfishness on my part,--and I don't give a damn who knows it." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + + + +Inside of a fortnight after the events just chronicled, the women +came ashore to occupy the practically completed huts. + +The Doraine was deserted except for Captain Trigger and the half-dozen +sailors who remained with him. These sailors were ancient tars +whose lives had been spent at sea. They were grizzled, wizened old +chaps. One of them, Joe Sands, had been an able seaman for forty-six +years, and, despite a perpetual crick in the back, he insisted +that he was still an abler seaman than ninety-five per cent, of the +thirty-year-olds who followed the sea for a living. When Captain +Trigger announced his resolve to stay on board, where he belonged, +these vainglorious old seadogs elected to remain with him to the +end. + +The exodus of women was hastened somewhat by the further listing +of the Doraine. This was due primarily to the removal of thousands +of tons from the holds, the galley and the engine room. A more +sinister cause for alarm, however, was the action of the greatly +lightened vessel when a tidal wave swept into the basin from the +north. This came at the tag end of the storm,--on the third day, in +fact. The Doraine seemed actually to be afloat for a few seconds, +heaving, shuddering, groaning. Her bottom, after scraping and +grinding and giving up the most unearthly sounds, suddenly appeared +to have freed itself completely from the rocks on which it was jammed. +She seemed on the point of righting herself. Then she started to +roll over on her side! Almost as abruptly she stopped, shivered, +and then lay still again. But she was not in her old position. She +was lying over at least two degrees farther than before the upheaval. + +This same, tremendous tidal wave, driven up by the strong wind +that had blown steadily and viciously out of the north for three +days,--or perhaps created by some vast internal convulsion of the +earth,--completely inundated the low-lying point of land known +as Cape Sunrise, At least two miles of the island was temporarily +under water. The high ridge lining the shore alone prevented the +sea from hurtling over into the valley to destroy the fields and +gardens and even to imperil the row of huts along the opposite +slope. + +Out on Cape Sunrise the waters swept over the lonely grave of Betty +Cruise, but fell back baffled when they attacked the foothills +that protected the homes of the living. There were superstitious +persons who read meaning into this startling visitation of the sea. +They made ugly romance of it. For, said they, the lonely spirit of +Jimmy Cruise was trying to reach its mate,--aye, striving to drag +her body down to the bottom of the sea to lie beside his own. + +As the days went by,--long days that were not governed by any +daylight saving law,--the settlement took on the air and life of +a sequestered village. There was the general warehouse from which +stores were dispensed sparingly by agents selected for such duties. +Women and men went to market and carried home the provender. A fish +market was established; wood-yards, fruit and vegetable booths, a +dispensary, and a general store where leather, cloths of various +description, and furs were to be had by requisition. + +In speaking of the dispensary, Dr. Cullen compla-cently announced +that the supply of medicine was limited, but that it was nothing +to worry about. He declared bluntly,--and with a twinkle in his +eye,--that people took too much medicine anyhow. + +"Medicine is a luxury," he said. "The more we stuff into people +the more they want, and the less they take the sooner they forget +they're sick. As your doctor, from this time on, I shall be delighted +to set your broken bones, sew up your gashes, and all that sort +of thing, but it is precious little medicine I'll give to you. So +don't get sick. The only epidemic we can have here, according to +my judgment, is an epidemic of good health. Am I right, gentlemen?" + +The two young American doctors put aside their dignity and grinned. + +The wines and liquors from the Doraine were brought ashore and +locked away in the cellar beneath the warehouse. It could be had +only on the doctor's orders. + +"It won't hurt any of us to drink nothing but water for awhile," +said Percival in discussing the matter; "and the chances are we'll +be less likely to hurt each other if we let the grog alone. There'll +be no drinking on this island if I can help it. I understand some +of you men are planning to put the pulp of the alga-robo through +a process of fermentation and make chica by the barrel. Well, if +I have anything to say about it, you'll do nothing of the sort. I +know that stuff. It's got more murder in it than anything I've ever +tackled. We can make flour out of that pulp, as some of you know, +and that's all we are going to make out of it. Besides, we can be +decent longer on flour than we can on chica. + +"We'll find it harder to do without tobacco than without booze, and +unless we discover something to take its place we'll be smokeless +in a few weeks. Professor Knapendyke is experimenting with a shrub +he has discovered here. He says it may be a fairly good substitute +if properly cured. But it won't be tobacco, so I guess we may as +well make up our minds to swear off smoking as well as drinking. I +hope there's nothing in the saying that the good die young. Because +if there is, we're in for an epidemic that will wipe out four-fifths +of our population in no time at all. We're going to be so good +we'll die like flies." + +The weeks wore on and the fields of grain were harvested. The yield +was not a heavy one, but it was sufficient to justify the rather +hap-hazard experiments. The fifty-odd acres of wheat produced +a little over a thousand bushels. The twenty-acre oat-field had +averaged forty bushels. A few acres of barley, sown broadcast in +the calcareous loam along the coast, amounted to nothing. + +Primitive means for grinding the grain had been devised. This first +crop was being laboriously crushed between roughly made mill-stones, +but before another harvest came along, a mill would be in operation +on the banks of Leap Frog River. + +The exploration of the island had long since been completed. +In certain parts of the dense forest covering the western section +there were magnificent specimens of the Norfolk Island pine. Fruits +of the citrous family were found in abundance; wild cherries, wild +grapes, figs, and an apple of amazing proportions and exceeding +sweetness. Pigeons in great numbers were found, a fact that puzzled +Professor Knapendyke not a little. + +He finally arrived at an astonishing conclusion. He connected the +presence of these birds with the remark-able exodus of wild pigeons +from their haunts in the United States in the eighties. Millions +of pigeons at that time took their annual flight southward from +Michigan, Indiana and other states in that region, and were never +seen again. What became of this prodigious cloud of birds still +remains a mystery. Knapendyke now advanced the theory that in +skirting the Gulf of Mexico on their way to the winter roosts in +Central America they were caught by a hurricane and blown out to +sea. By various stages the bewildered survivors of the gale made +their way down the east coast of South America, only to be caught +up again by another storm that carried them out into the Atlantic. +A few reached this island, hundreds of miles from the mainland, +and here they remained to propagate. At any rate, the naturalist +was preparing to put his impressions and deductions into the form +of a paper which he intended to submit to the National Geographic +Magazine as soon as he returned to the United States. + +The more practical Mr. Fitts decided to start a squab farm. + +A few of the giant iguanas were seen, and many smaller ones. The +meat of the iguana is a great delicacy. There were no beasts of +prey, no herbaceous animals. + +Lookouts on Top o' the Morning Peak reported the presence of +monstrous birds at rare intervals. Where they came from and whither +they went no one could tell. There were unscalable cliffs and crags +at the western end of the island, and it is possible that they had +their nests among them. + +Lieutenant Platt described the first of these huge birds as being +at least thirty feet from tip to tip. It flew low above the top of +Split Mountain and disap-peared beyond the hills to the west. When +first descried by one of the lookouts, this bird was far out over +the ocean, approaching the island from the east. As it soared over +the heads of the men, several hundred feet above them, its wings +full spread, it was more like a small monoplane than a bird. In +colour it was a dirty yellow, with a black belly and head. Before +any one could procure a gun from the hut it was out of range, flying +at an incredible speed. A few days later another was seen, coming +from the same direction. It was flying much higher, and a few futile +shots were fired at it. Then, after a week or ten days without +a single one of the monsters being seen, five of them appeared in +the west and flew eastward over the island and out to sea. + +"What was the name of that passenger-carrying bird they were always +talking about in the 'Arabian Nights'?" inquired Platt. + +"You mean the roc," replied Knapendyke. "If it ever really existed +outside of the fairy tales, it is now extinct. The nearest thing +to it in size is the condor, I suppose." + +"I've seen some whopping big condors up in the Andes," said Percival, +"but twelve feet from tip to tip was what the natives called a +full-grown specimen. What do you make of these birds, Flattner?" + +"After seeing an iguana eighteen feet long, I'm ready to believe +anything. A protracted and an enforced spell of sobriety is the +only thing that keeps me from diagnosing my own case as delirium +tremens. There's one thing sure. Birds as big as these, and iguanas +as huge as the three we've seen,--to say nothing of the enormous +flying fish Morris Shine claims to have seen,--take me back to the +Dark Ages. I daresay we're seeing the tag end of the giants. God +knows how old these birds and reptiles are,--hundreds of years, +at least. I'd give almost anything to get one of those birds and +stuff him. There was once a flying animal known as the pteranodon. +It has been extinct for millions of years. Belonged to the class +called pterodactyls. Who knows? If you fellows could shoot for sour +apples, I'd have one of 'em." + +Christmas and New Year's day, long since past, had been celebrated +in a mild, half-hearted way on board the Doraine. Easter was drawing +near, and Ruth Clinton took upon herself the task of arranging +special services for the children. She was going ahead with her +plans when her aunt, with some bitterness, advised her to consult +the "King of Babylon"--(a title surreptitiously accorded Percival +by the unforgiving lady)--before committing herself too deeply to +the enterprise. + +"It would be just like him to cut Easter out of the calendar +altogether," said she. + +"He cannot possibly have any objection to an Easter service," +protested Ruth, her brow puckering. + +"There's no telling what he will object to," said Mrs. Spofford. + +"He is really quite tenderhearted, and awfully fond of children, +you know. I am sure he will be very much pleased with the--Besides," +she broke off to say with considerable heat, "Mr. Percival is not +as high and mighty as he imagines himself to be. Other people have +something to say about the management of this camp. You forget,--and +so does he perhaps,--that we have a council of ten. I rather fancy--" + +"Pooh!" sniffed her aunt. "He is worse than all the Tammany bosses +put together. The other men on the council of ten eat out of his +hand, as Abel Landover says. His word is law,--or, I should have +said, his smile is law. All he has to do is to grin and the argument +is over. I've never seen anything like the way people give in when +he smiles. It is disgusting." + +"Please don't forget, Auntie, that he did not smile on Saturday +when Manuel Crust stopped him in front of the meeting-house and +said he was going to take Sunday off from work up in the woods. He +didn't smile then, did he? And there were a dozen men planning to +take the day off with Manuel Crust, too." + +"I confess I was frightened," admitted Mrs. Spofford, with a slight +shudder. "That Manuel Crust is a--a dangerous man. He carries a +knife. I saw it." + +"Were your sympathies with Manuel Crust or Mr. Percival? Answer, +please." + +"Naturally, my dear, I--why, of course, they were with Percival. +He was one man against a dozen. Besides, he does represent law and +order. I have never questioned that, have I?" + +"Weren't you a weeny, teeny bit proud of him yesterday, Aunt Julia?" + +"Weren't you?" countered the other. + +"I could have hugged him," exclaimed Ruth, her eyes sparkling. "I +hate him,--mind you,--but I could have hugged him, just the same." + +Mrs. Spofford looked searchingly into the girls clear, shining +eyes. + +"I wish I knew just how much you hate him, Ruth." + +"Be honest, Auntie. What you mean is, how little I hate him; isn't +that so?" + +"I don't believe you hate him at all." + +"Well, the first chance you get, ask him how much I hate him. He +will tell you. Now let's talk about Easter Sunday. I don't in the +least see why I should go down on my knees to Mr. Percival in order +to--" + +"Manuel Crust went down on his knees, didn't he?" + +"Don't be silly! Manuel Crust was leading a strike. I am arranging +a sacred entertainment." + +"Still, if I were you, my dear, I would ask him what he thinks +about it." + +"All right," cried Ruth, "I'll ask him. And what's more, I shall +ask him to sing in the choir. He will love it." + +Not only did Percival promise to sing in the choir, but he eagerly +offered to help her with the decorations. But when she announced +that she was going up into the hills in quest of the little red +winter berries that grew in profusion, he flatly put his foot down +on the project. + +"I don't feel any too sure of Manuel Crust and his gang," said he. +"They're in an ugly mood and they are brutes, Miss Clinton. Don't +be alarmed. They're not likely to molest you or any one else, but +I don't believe in taking chances. Just at present they're pretty +sore at me and they're doing all they can to stir up discord. It +will work out all right in the end, of course. They may be beasts +but they're not fools." + +"Is it true that Manuel Crust claims that every man should have +his woman?" she asked steadily. + +He was surprised by the frank, unembarrassed question. "Crust is +about as vile as they make them, Miss Clinton. Most of these fellows +are decent, however." + +"But you have not answered my question." + +"I will answer it by saying that if he has any such notion as that +in his mind he will have it taken out of him in short order if he +attempts to put it into practice. The women on this island will be +protected, Miss Clinton, if we have to kill Manuel Crust and his +fol-lowers. It is true he has been preaching that sort of gospel +among the vicious and ignorant Portugees and half-casts, but it's +all talk. Don't pay any attention to it." + +"We can't help being worried. Suppose his following is much larger +than you think. They are a rough, lawless crowd, and--" + +"Ninety-five per cent, of the men here are decent. That's the only +comfort I can give you." He smiled his whimsical smile. "I think +you will find that you will be courted in the regular, old-fashioned +way, and proposed to with as much solemnity and uncertainty as if +you were back at home, and it will be left for you to choose your +own husband. We have two ministers of the gospel here, you know. I +predict some rather violent courtships, and perhaps a few ill-advised +marriages, but you may rest assured that no man is going to claim +you until you claim him." + +He was looking straight into her eyes. She felt the blood mounting +to her cheek,--and was conscious of a strange, delicious sensation +as of peril stealing over her. + +"You are most reassuring," she managed to say, scarcely above a +whisper, and then paused expectant. + +Afterwards she was shamed by the exquisite pain of anticipation +that had coursed through her in that moment of waiting. She never +could quite account for the temporary weakness that assailed her +and left her mute and helpless under the spell of his eyes. She +only knew that she waited expectant,--for something that never came! +What she might have said in response, what she might have done if +he had uttered the words she was prepared to hear, she did not care +to contemplate, even in the privacy of her own thoughts. She only +knew that she was ashamed of the thrill that went over her and +strangely bitter toward him for being the cause of it. She would +not admit to herself that disappointment had anything to do with +it,--for she found herself arguing, nothing could have been more +distressing than to rebuff him when he seemed so eager to help her +in her plans for Easter Sunday. + +The fact remains, however, that Percival held his tongue, and she +never quite understood why he did. + +The time and the place of this encounter invited confession. There +was a full moon in the heavens, the night was still, the air crisp +with the tang of October in the north,--and they were alone in the +shadow of the "tabernacle." Lights gleamed in the little windows +that stretched to the right and left of them. Far off somewhere +in the dark, an unseen musician was gently thrumming a fandango on +his Spanish guitar. She had been on her way home from Careni-Amori's +cabin, where she had gained the prima-donna's promise to sing, +when she saw him, walking slowly across the "Green." His hands +were clasped behind his back, his head was bent. She experienced +a sudden rush of pity for him,--she knew not why, except that he +looked lonely and forgotten. It was she who turned aside from her +course and went out across the Green to join him. + +"You are most reassuring," she had said. The dusky light of the +moon fell full upon her upturned face; her shadowy, limpid eyes +were looking straight into his; enchantment charged the air with +its soft and languorous breath,--and yet he looked away! + +After a moment he spoke. His voice was steady and,--to her,--almost +sardonic. + +"The day of the cave-man is past. Likewise the cannibal. I think +I can promise that you will neither be beaten nor eaten,--but you +do run a little risk in being abroad on such a night as this,--and +alone." + +She stiffened. "I don't think there is the slightest danger, Mr. +Percival." + +"I wasn't thinking of danger," he said. "There is a lot of difference +between danger and consequences. You see, you might have been +mistaken in your man. I might have turned out to be Manuel Crust." + +"I--I--I was sure it was you," she stammered, and wished she had +not said it. It was a confession that she knew his figure so well +that she could recognize it in the gloom of the night and at a +distance that should have rendered him almost invisible. + +"Even so, I am Manuel's brother under the skin," he said. "Like +Judy O'Grady and the Colonel's lady, you know. However, all's well +that ends well, so what's the use of magnifying the peril that +stalks through the land." + +"You were brought up on the good, old-fashioned novels, I see. +That's the language of heroes,--and heroes live only in novels, +where they are perfectly safe from harm, thanks to the benevolent +author." + +"You're right. I was brought up among the old-fashioned heroes. +I lived through every adventure they had, I longed for every girl +they loved, I envied everything they did, and I dreamed the most +beautiful dreams about prowess and virtue and love. I rather fancy +I'm a better man for having been a swashbuckling boy. I acquired +the generous habit of falling in love with every heroine I read +about, and in my thoughts I performed even more prodigious deeds of +valour in her behalf than the hero to whom she inevitably plighted +her troth in the final chapter. In real life, however, I've never +been in a position to do anything more heroic than give up my seat +in trolley-cars to ladies of all ages,--By the way, have you never +longed desperately to be a heroine?" + +"Of course, I have," she cried, smiling in spite of herself. Her +eyes were sparkling again, for the danger was past. "And I have +loved a hundred heroes,--madly." She hesitated and then went on +impulsively: "We haven't been very friendly, Mr. Percival. Perhaps +I am to blame. In any case, you have been very generous and +forbearing. That is more than I have been. I never thought I could +bring myself to the point of saying this to you. Can't we be friends +again?" + +He was silent for a moment. + +"Do you mean to go back to where we were before--Well, before we +clashed?" + +"Yes,--if you will put it in that way." + +"I can't go back to that stage," he said, shaking his head. "You +may have stood still, Miss Clinton, but I have progressed." + +"I don't know what you mean." + +"You will, after you reflect awhile," he said. + +She drew back, in a sudden panic. She spoke hurriedly, her composure +wrecked. + +"I--at least, Mr. Percival, I have done my part. If you do not care +to be friends, I--I have nothing more to say. We must go on just +as we were,--and I am sorry. I have done my part." + +"I do not want to distress you," he said huskily. "If I were to +tell you why it is best for us to go on as we are, you would lose +what little faith you may still have in me. I have not always been +able to conceal my feelings. You do not care as I do,--and I have +been pretty much of a rotter in showing you just how I feel from time +to time,--an ordinary bounder, and God knows I hate the word,--so +there's nothing more I can say without distressing and offending +you. I want you to feel perfectly secure so far as I am concerned. +We are out here alone in the night. If I were to let go of myself +now and say what I want to say to you,--well, you would be frightened +and hurt and,--God knows I wouldn't hurt you for the world. I hope +you understand, Miss Clinton." + +She had had time to fortify herself. + +"Yes,--I understand," she said, but not without a strange wonder +filling her mind. + +He was fair,--and yet he was baffling. She had not expected this +rare trait in him. Men she had known were not like this. The men who +loved her,--and they had been many,--were impetuous and insistent, +demanding much and offering everything,--vain-glorious warriors +who counted confidently on easy conquest. She had come in contact +with but one class of men: the spoiled, cocksure sons of the rich +who love in haste and have it over with while there is yet time +to love again. She caught herself guiltily wondering how many men +of her acquaintance would have allowed this engaging opportunity +to pass without making the most of it! And why should this +man be different from the others? She experienced a sharp feeling +of irritation, and out of that sprang the wilful desire to hurt +him because he was different. So she lifted her chin, and looking +straight into his eyes, said: "I understand perfectly. You prefer +that I should not put you in the class with Manuel Crust." + +"I'm not quite certain that Manuel's way of handling women isn't +the best after all," he said musingly. "Ride over 'em rough-shod, +trample them under foot, kick them to one side and then ask them +whether they love you or not. If they say they don't, all you have +to do is to behave like a gentleman and leave them alone." + +She laughed. "But suppose they were to say they did love you,--what +then?" + +"That, I understand, is what they generally do say,--and it causes +a great deal of trouble for the unfortunate gentleman." + +"Are you never in earnest, Mr. Percival?" + +"I was very much in earnest a moment ago. You knew how much +in earnest I was or you wouldn't have said that nasty thing about +Manuel Crust." + +"I am sorry I said it," she cried. "It was uncalled for,--and I +was deliberately trying to be mean." + +"I knew it," he said quietly. "I don't think any the worse of you +for it. A woman plays fair until you get her into a corner,--and +then she plays fairer than ever to make up for what she did when +cornered. Am I not right?" + +She did not reply. She was staring past him, down the line of huts. +The door of Olga Obosky's cabin had opened and closed, projecting +for an instant an oblong block of light into the darkness. The +figure of a woman, emerging into the full light of the moon, had +caught Ruth's attention. Percival turned quickly. Together they +watched the figure move swiftly across the Green toward them. +Suddenly it stopped, and then, after a moment, whirled and made +off down the line of cabins, soon to be swallowed up by the gloom. + +"Were you expecting some one?" inquired Ruth, icily. + +He was still looking intently into the far-reaching gloom. Neither +had spoken for many seconds. He started, and looked searchingly +into her eyes. + +"That was Madame Obosky," he said. + +"I know. I recognized her," said she evenly. + +"And you believe she was coming out here to meet me,--isn't that +so?" + +She drew herself up. "I shall have to say good night, Mr. Percival. +No! It is not necessary for you to walk home with me." + +He placed himself in front of her. "Would you mind answering my +question?" + +"Yes," she flashed, "I think she was coming out here to meet you. +Permit me to pass, please." + +He stood aside. "Good night, Miss Clinton." + +He watched her until the door of her cabin swung open,--and he +smiled as she stood revealed for an instant in the square of light, +for she had obeyed the impulse to glance over her shoulder. + +She was angry, hurt, disgusted as she slammed the door behind her. + +"Where have you been?" cried out an accusing voice, and Ruth's gaze +fell upon the figure in one of the deck chairs beside the fire. "I +have been waiting for you for--" + +"How long have you been here?" cried the girl, stock-still and +staring. + +"If Mrs. Spofford had not been so entertaining, I should say for +hours and hours," said Madame Obosky. + +"As a matter of fact," said Mrs. Spofford from her side of the +fireplace, "it hasn't been more than an hour. Madame Obosky came +soon after you went out, dear." + +"But--but I saw you just now coming out of your cabin," cried +Ruth blankly. She had a queer sensation as of the floor giving way +beneath her. + +"You saw--Oh, now I understand!" cried the Russian, with a laugh. +"Zose girls of mine! Zey--they are like so many grandmothers. They +will not go to bed until zey know I am safely tucked in myself. Alas, +Mrs. Spofford, zose girls do not trust me, I fear. If I go out at +night alone, zey instantly put their heads together and shake zem +all at the same time. So that is what has happen, Miss Clinton. One +of them,--Alma, I suspect, because she had a sister who,--Yes, it +would be Alma, I am sure,--in any case, one of zem comes out to get +me, so like a policeman. But still I do not understand something. +I have told them I was coming here to see you. If it was one of my +girls, why has she not come?" + +Ruth had turned away, ostensibly to pull down the little window +shade but really to send a swift searching glance out across the +Green. + +"She went the other way," she replied, rather breathlessly. + +Olga sprang to her feet. "Now, what is zat little fool up to?" she +cried, angrily. "If I catch her running out to meet men at zis hour +of--" + +Ruth interrupted her. "She started in this direction but when she +saw us, she turned and went the other way. I was talking to Mr. +Percival out near the meeting-house. About the Easter services, +Auntie," she made haste to say as Mrs. Spofford looked up in +surprise. + +Olga was looking at her fixedly, an odd expression in her eyes, +her lips slightly parted. + +"He has promised to help me. He is delighted to sing in the choir. +Madame Careni-Amori will sing two solos. She promises to make +Joseppi sing one or two. I--I was discussing the arrangements with +Mr. Perci-val." + +"Now I understand," said Olga, gaily, but with the odd, inquiring +look still in her eyes. "Alma thought it was I. I have zem very +well-trained, those girls. She sees me with a man,--zip! She runs +the other way as fast as she can! That is the height of propriety,--is +it not, Mrs. Spofford?" + +"I do not quite understand what you mean, Madame Obosky." + +"Why did he say it was you?" cried Ruth, hot with chagrin. + +Olga shrugged her shoulders. "He is so very amiable," said she. "I +dare say he thought it would please you." + +Ruth bit her lip. There was no mistaking the challenge in the +Russian's remark, however careless it may have sounded. + +"I came to see you about Mr. Percivail's birthday," said Olga, +abruptly changing the subject. "Some one has suggested zat we +all join in giving him a grand great big celebration. Bonfires, +fire-works, a banquet with speeches, and all zat kind of thing. +What do you think, eh?" + +"He wouldn't like it at all," said Ruth promptly. "Moreover, why +should we celebrate his birthday? He doesn't deserve it any more +than scores of other--" + +"Oh, then we must drop it altogether," broke in Olga, rather +plaintively. "I thought every one would be in favour of it. But, +of course, if there is the slightest opposition--" + +"I do not oppose it," said Ruth coldly. "Pray do not let me upset +your plans." + +"It is not my plan. Zat nice, sarcastic Mr. Fitts, and Mr. Malone, +and Captain Trigger, they have proposed it, Miss Clinton, not I. But +men never quite get over being boys. They do not stop to question +whether a thing is right or wrong. I dare say after they have +thought a little longer over it, zey will agree with you that it +is foolish to be so enthusiastic about this fellow Percivail,--and +the whole project will dissolve into thin air." + +Her hand was on the latch. She met Ruth's harassed, unhappy gaze +with her indolent, almost insolent, smile. Suddenly the American +girl snatched up her jacket and the little fur collar she had thrown +across a chair in the corner. + +"If you don't mind, I will walk part of the way home with you," +she said. + +Olga opened the door and looked out. "Thank you,--I am not afraid. +Pray do not think of it,--I cannot permit you to come. It is +late,--and the moon is under the clouds. Good night,--good night, +Mrs. Spofford." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + + + + +She quickly closed the door behind her and sped off down the line +of now lightless cabins. A man stepped out of the black shadow +beyond the second cabin and stood in her path. She did not pause, +but walked swiftly, fearlessly up to him, her heart quickening +under the thrill of exultation. He was waiting for her! He had been +waiting for her all the long evening. The time had come! + +The night was dark now; a strong wind had sprung up to drive the +black and storm-laden clouds across the moonlit sky. She held out +her hands with a little moan of ecstasy,--and then she was in his +strong, crushing arms, pressed fiercely to his breast. + +"God, can I believe,--is it true? You have come,--you have come of +your own free will,--you are here in my arms!" His hot lips found +hers in a wild, passionate kiss. "Speak to me! Tell me it is all +real,--that I am not dreaming. Oh, Ruth, Ruth,--darling!" + +Her body stiffened. A convulsive shudder raced over her, and then, +for an instant, she was limp and heavy in his embrace. Then suddenly +she threw her arms about his neck and kissed him furiously, savagely, +again and again,--breaking away at last with a low, suffocating +laugh. + +"Now,--now,-" she cried, "now, what are you going to do with me?" + +He lifted his head with a jerk, peering into her face, slow to +realize the incredible mistake he had made. He was still under the +spell of the riotous passion that her lustful response had aroused. +It had rushed over him like a great, resistless wave,--hot, delicious, +tingling. He had been amazed, bewildered by the unbelievable +craving,--furious and uncontrolled,--which she revealed in her +momentary surrender to the elemental. The truth began to dawn upon +him even before she spoke. Could this be Ruth,--could this unbridled, +voluptuous wanton who clung to him and smothered him with kisses +be the pure, high-minded girl he had grown to love and revere? She +spoke, and then he knew that the consuming fire in his blood was +unholy,--as unholy as the spark that set it ablaze. + +"Damn you!" he whispered hoarsely,--but he did not put her away +from him. The lure of the flesh was upon him. It was stronger than +his will, stronger than his love. + +For months this woman had beguiled him. There had been times when +he was compelled to fight himself,--times when he asked: "Why not?" + +She was alluring, she was frankly a sensualist; but she was +patient, she was crafty. She knew that he was honourably in love +with another, but she was not deterred by that nor by the conviction +that her conquest, if she prevailed, would be transitory. She had +a code of her own. It included an uncertain element of honour, +fixed rather rigidly upon what she would have called constancy. +Singleness of purpose was her notion of morality. She would not +have believed herself to be a bad woman any more than she would +have looked upon her lover as a bad man. To her, morality in its +accepted sense signified no more than the suppression of human +emotions and human sensations. As a matter of fact, she considered +herself a good woman if for no other reason than that she steadfastly +had repelled the munificent appeals of countless infatuated men. +Treasure had been laid at her feet, only to be kicked aside. She +calmly spoke of herself as a pearl without price. She was content +to possess, but not to be possessed. That was what she called +self-respect. She was a pagan, but she was her own idol. She +worshipped herself. She would never permit her idol to be desecrated. + +All this Percival knew,--or rather sensed. He was not above feeling +a queer sort of respect and admiration for her. She was not without +integrity. + +He had reached the pinnacle of happiness in believing that the girl +he loved was in his arms. He was blind and deaf with ecstasy. The +awakening was a shock. His senses reeled for an instant,--and then +Ruth Clinton went out of his thoughts entirely! + +"Damn you!" he cried again, and drew her close. "She hates me,--she +will always hate me," he was mumbling. "Why should I care? Why +should I refuse to take--" Her lips were on his again, warm, firm, +voluptuous, drawing his heart's blood with the resistless power of +a magnet. + +They did not hear the rapid approach of footsteps--heavy, swift as +of one running. A dark, panting figure raced past them, and then +another but a few paces behind. + +Percival's senses were released. They cast off the bewitching bonds. +His head went up again. In a flash his brain was clear. His arms +were still about her, she was still lying close against him,--but +the current of passion that consumed both of them was checked. + +"What was that?" she gasped, as if coming out of a dream. + +He released her, and sprang out into the path to peer fruitlessly +after the unseen runners. The sound of footsteps was rapidly +diminishing. + +They were suddenly aware of women's voices far away to the right. +They were indistinct but there was a sinister significance in the +ever-increasing volume. + +"There's trouble out there," said Percival. "Something wrong. +Come,--come along! You must get indoors at once." He grasped her +arm and started rapidly off in the direction of her cabin. She +stumbled at first, but quickly fell into stride with him. Men's +shouts were now added to the clamour. + +"I know,--I know," she cried in his ear. "It has happened, just as +I said it would. Some of these men are beasts." + +"Then, there's hell to pay," he grated. + +They reached her cabin just as the door was thrown open. The three +startled coryphees filled the entrance. Recognition was followed +by a clatter of agitated voices. Olga was fairly dragged into the +cabin. + +"Bolt your door," was Percival's command as he turned away. + +She stood in the door for a moment, looking after him. He passed +out of the radius of light. The chorus of voices grew louder down +the way,--like the make-believe mob in the theatre. + +Then she closed the door slowly, reluctantly. The three girls watched +her in silence as she stood for many seconds with her hand on the +knob, her eyes tightly shut. + +She turned and faced them. There was a wry smile on her lips as +she shrugged her shoulders and spread out her hands in a gesture +of resignation. + +"Yes,--bolt the door," she said. As Alma hesitated, her eyes grew +hard, her voice imperative. "Do you know of any reason why you +should not do as both Mr. Percivail and I have commanded?" + +"No,--no, Madame," cried Alma hastily. + +As the heavy wooden bolt fell into place, Olga again shrugged her +shoulders and threw herself into a chair in front of the fireplace. + +"Put on your clothes," she ordered. + +"What is happening, Madame? What is all the noise about?" questioned +one of the girls. + +But there was no answer. Olga was staring into the fire. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + + + + +Percival's blood was still in a tumult as he ran down the line of +cabins. From every doorway men were now stumbling, half-dressed, +half-asleep. Behind them, in many cabins, alarmed, agitated women +appeared. Farther on there were lanterns and a chaotic mass of +moving objects. Above the increasing clamour rose the horrible, +uncanny wail of a woman. Percival's blood cooled, his brain cleared. +Men shouted questions as he passed, and obeyed his command to +follow. + +The ugly story is soon told. Philippa, the fifteen-year-old daughter +of Pedro, the head-farmer, had gone out from her father's cabin +at dusk to fetch water from the little reservoir that had been +constructed alongside Leap Frog River a short distance above the +cabins. The pool was a scant two hundred yards from her home. It +was a five minutes' walk there and back. Half-an-hour passed, and +she had not returned. Her mother became uneasy. Pedro reassured +her. He laughed at her fears. + +"She could not have fallen into the pool," he said. "You forget +the fence we have built around it." + +"I am not thinking of the pool, Pedro," she argued. "Go you at once +and search for her. She is no laggard. She has not stopped in to +see one of the girls." + +And Pedro went grumpily forth to search for his daughter. An hour +later he came staggering down from the woods above the pool to meet +the dozen or more friends and neighbours who had set out some-time +earlier to look for the two of them, father and daughter. + +He bore in his arms the limp, apparently lifeless form of Philippa. +He was covered with blood, he was chattering like a madman. Out +of his incoherent babble the horrified searchers were able to put +together the cruel story. It seems he had heard a faint cry far back +in the dense wood,--another and yet another. Then utter silence. +Even the night-birds were still. Swift, paralysing fear choked him. +He tried to call out as he rushed blindly up from the pool into the +forest, but only hoarse, unnatural gasps left his lips. He fell +often, he crashed into the trunks of trees, but always he went +onward, gasping out his futile cries. He knew not how long he beat +through the forest. He was not even sure that it was Philippa's +cry he had heard, but his soul was filled with a great, convincing +dread. He knew that his beloved Philippa, the idol of his heart, +the sunshine of his life, was up there in the woods. Frequently he +stopped to listen. He could hear nothing save the pounding of his +own heart, and the wheezing of his breath, thick and laboured. + +Then, at last, during one of those silences, he heard something +moving in the darkness near at hand. Something--some one was +coming toward him through the underbrush. He called out hoarsely: +"Philippa!" The sound ceased instantly, and then he heard a whispered +execration. Wild rage possessed him. He plunged forward into the +brush. Something crashed down upon his head, and he felt himself +falling forward. The next he knew, he was trying vainly to rise to +his feet. Something hot was running into his eyes,--hot and sticky. +He lifted his hand to his head; it came away wet. He put his fingers +into his mouth,-and tasted blood! It was enough. His strength came +back. He sprang to his feet and rushed onward, shouting, cursing, +calling upon God! He had no recollection of finding his girl. +Apparently everything was a blank to him until long afterwards +he saw lights moving among the trees, and voices were calling his +name. + +Percival and other cool-headed men were hard put to check the +fury of the mob. Men and women, bent on vengeance, made the night +hideous with their curses, howls and shrieks. In their senseless +fury they prepared to kill. They had heard the stories about Manuel +Crust and his disciples. Only the determined stand taken by the +small group that rallied to Percival's support kept the maddened +crowd from seeking out these men and rending them limb from limb. +The sailors from the Doraine were the first to listen to the pleas +of the level-headed,--just as they had been the first to demand the +lives of Manuel Crust and his gang. Individually they were rough +men and lawless, collectively they were the slaves of discipline. +It was to their vanity that Percival and the others appealed,--only +they called it honour instead of vanity. The mob spirit was--quelled +for the time being, at least. No one was so foolish as to believe +that it was dead, however. Unless the man guilty of the shocking +crime was found and delivered up for punishment, the inevitable +would happen. + +"We'll get the right man," said the voice of universal fury, "if +we have to cut the heart out of every one of Manuel Crust's gang." + +The women were the worst. They fought like wildcats to reach the +cabins occupied by the known followers of Manuel Crust. With knives +and axes and burn-ing faggots they tried again and again to force +their way through the stubborn wall of men that had been raised +against them. + +As for Manuel Crust and his little group of radicals, they had +vanished. They had mingled with the mob at the outset. There were +many who recalled seeing this one and that one, remembered speaking +to him, remembered hearing him curse the ravisher. But as their own +names began to run from lip to lip, they silently, swiftly disappeared. + +Dawn found the camp awake, but grimly silent. No one had gone to +bed. With the first streak of day, the man-hunt began in earnest. +All night long the camp had been patrolled. Every cabin had been +searched, even those occupied solely by women. This search had been +conducted in an orderly, business-like way under the supervision +of men chosen by Percival. The folly of beating the woods during +the night was recognized even by the most impatient; there was time +enough for that when the blackness of night had lifted. + +Throughout the long night, the restless crowd, with but one thought +in mind, hung about the cabin of Pedro the farmer. The doctors +and several of the nurses were in there. Down at the meeting-house +a bonfire had been started, and here were grouped the men to whom +the leaders had intrusted firearms and other weapons,--men of the +gun crew, under officers from the Doraine, the committee of ten +and others. + +It was accepted as a fact that two men were involved in the heinous +deed. Percival's account of the mysterious runners seemed definitely +to establish this. He called upon Olga Obosky to verify his statement. +If she was surprised by his admission that he was in her company +when the men rushed past them in the darkness, she did not betray +the fact. She indulged in a derisive smile when he went on to +explain that it was so dark he had failed to recognize her until +she spoke to him. She agreed with him that the two men must have +come into the open a very short distance above them, having sneaked +out between the cabins before suddenly breaking into a run. Avoiding +the beaten roadway, they had laid their course twenty or thirty +feet to the right of it, keeping to the soft, springy turf. + +Percival had issued orders for the entire camp to congregate on the +Green at the first sign of day. The cold grey light of dawn fell +upon vague, unreal forms moving across the open spaces from all +directions. There was no shouting, no turmoil, scarcely the sound +of a voice. The silent, ghostly figures merged into a compact, +motionless mass in front of the meetinghouse. It was not necessary +for Percival to call for order when he appeared on the steps and +began to speak. The only sounds were the shuffling of feet, the +rustling of garments, the deep, restrained breathing of the mass. + +He spoke partly in English and partly in Spanish, and he was brief. + +"You know what we are here for and what is ahead of us. I don't +have to tell you the story of last night. You know it as well as I. +You will be glad to hear the latest word from Dr. Cullen. Philippa +is conscious. He thinks she will recover. She is having the best +of care and attention. I will explain why we are all here now. The +first thing for us to do is to count noses. We will go about it +as rapidly as possible. After that, we will get down to business. +Mr. Landover and Mr. Malone will check off the name of every man, +woman and child. As your names are called, come forward, answer, +and then move over beyond the corner of the building. We've got to +find out just who is missing,--if any one is missing at all." + +He raised his voice. "I want you all to keep cool. Don't forget that +we are after the men who committed this crime. We have no right to +say that Manuel Crust or any of his crowd did this thing until we +have positive proof of the fact. It may not have been any of Manuel's +gang, don't forget that, people. We must make no mistakes. I am +saying this to you now because I see Manuel Crust and some of his +friends standing over there at the edge of the clearing. Stop! Don't +make a move in their direction. We've all had time to think,--we've +all had time to get ourselves in hand. There is a right and a wrong +way to handle this thing,--and we've got to be sure we're right. +The guilty cannot escape. They haven't a chance, and you know it. +So, let's be sure,--let's be dead sure before we accuse any man. We +have no right to charge Manuel's gang with this crime. The guilty +men may be here among us,--absolutely unsuspected. Chizler! You and +Soapy Shay go over and tell those men that we are taking a count +of all the people in this camp. Tell them to come and answer to +their names. They will be safe." + +The count was never completed. Manuel Crust did not wait for his +name to be called. He pushed his way through the crowd, leaving +his followers behind. Advancing to the foot of the steps he cried +out hoarsely to Percival: + +"If you want your men, I--I, Manuel Crust, will lead you to one of +them. He is up there in the wood. Three men are guarding him. He +is Sancho Mendez, the blacksmith. Listen, I will tell you. It is +the God's truth I tell. There were seven of us hiding out there +in the wood. We were scared. We heard our names called out. We +had heard the threats to burn us alive. We ran away. We were not +cowards,--but still we ran away. We would wait till the crowd cooled +off. That was my advice. Then we would return,--then we would help +to find the men who did it,--and we would help to burn them alive. +An hour ago Sancho Mendez crawled out of the brush up there above +the landing and begged us to protect him. His leg was broken. He +had fallen over a log. You all know Sancho Mendez. He was a good +boy. He was the friend of Boss Percival. He was no friend to me. +But he swears he will be my slave for ever if I will save him. Then +he tells us everything. When I ask him why the hell he run away, +he says he lose his mind or something. He just go crazy, he says. +He say everybody was chasing him,--he could hear them in the bushes, +he could hear that girl screaming out his name,--and all that. He +was going to jump in the water and drown, because he say people +tell him always it is the easy way to die. But he falls down and +breaks his leg,--here below the knee. He cannot run no more. It +is all up. He is afraid to breathe. People are all around him with +knives and axes and clubs. He can hear them in the brush. Then the +daylight comes, and he sees us down below in the wood, and he says +he thanks God. I will be his friend,--I will save him because I +am an angel from heaven! Bah! I spit in his face. We tie him to a +tree with our belts, and then I come down to tell Boss Percival we +have his man,--his good and loyal friend." + +"Stop!" yelled Percival, as the crowd began to show symptoms of +breaking away. "Listen to me! I give you fair warning. I don't want +to do it, but, by God, I'll order these men to shoot the first who +tries to start anything. We're going to have law and order here. +This man Sancho is going to have a fair trial. What's more, he had +a companion. What does he say of the other man, Manuel Crust?" + +"Sancho Mendez says he was alone. There was no other man." + +Percival looked hard into Manuel Crust's bloodshot eyes. An appalling +thought had suddenly flashed into his mind. Many seconds passed +before he dared to open his lips. As if by divine revelation the +situation lay bare before him,--the whole Machiavelian scheme as +conceived by Manuel. Sancho Mendez was to be sacrificed! + +Even as he stood there speechless, the plan began to work toward +its well-calculated end. Manuel's friends started to harangue the +crowd. They were growling hoarse invectives, shaking their fists +in the direction of the wood, fanning the pent-up fury of the mob +into a whirlwind that would sweep everything before it. Once the +tide turned there would be no stopping it until Sancho Mendez was +torn to pieces. He would shriek his innocence into deaf ears. And +that was Manuel's game. + +Percival's heart leaped with joy as he saw the armed force under +Lieutenant Platt move swiftly into a position barring the way to the +woods. He thrilled with a mighty pride in the shrewd intelligence +and resourcefulness of this trained fighting-man from the far-off +homeland. + +Manuel Crust was turning away to mingle with the crowd. Quick as +a flash, Percival was down from the steps and at the "Portugee's" +side. He grasped the man's arm. + +"I've got a gun against your back," he cried in fierce suppressed +tones. "Stand still and keep your mouth shut, or I'll drill a hole +through you. You're safe if you do as I tell you, Crust. I'm onto +your little game. I'm not saying you are the guilty man, but you +know who he is,--and it won't work." + +Manuel Crust was as rigid as a block of stone. He did not even turn +his head to look into the face of the man who held him. + +Michael Malone and Landover were at Percival's side in an instant. +From their position on the steps they could see what was not visible +to the crowd beyond,--the revolver that was pressed against the +small of Crust's back. + +"Cover this man," whispered Percival to Malone. "Shoot if he opens +his mouth." + +Malone's revolver was jammed against the "Portugee's" back, and +Percival sprang back up the steps. + +Manuel Crust shot a look of surprise at Abel Landover. + +"What the hell--" he began, but choked off the words at a command +from Malone. While Percival was rapidly calling out orders from +above, he broke out recklessly again, addressing the stern-faced +banker. + +"Are you my friend or not?" he snarled. "What kind of a man are +you? Speak up! Tell them I'm all right." + +"Keep quiet," warned Malone. + +Landover's eyes met the searching, questioning gaze of the Portuguese. +Manuel Crust apparently was satisfied with what he read in them, +for a quick gleam of confidence leaped into his own. His chest +swelled with a tremendous intake of breath. + +The remarkable personality,--or perhaps the magnetism,--of the +"boss," again asserted itself. He made no allusion to the thing +uppermost in his mind as he spoke hurriedly, emphatically to the +tense throng. When he directed Randolph Fitts to take a few picked +men with him up into the woods to bring down the captive, there +were mutterings but no move on the part of the crowd either to +anticipate or to follow the detachment. A few terse words to Buck +Chizler sent that active young man after Fitts, the bearer of +instructions. Sancho Mendez was to be brought in alive. His guards +were not to be given a chance to kill him when they realized that +the scheme had failed and he would be allowed to tell his own story. + +With the departure of Fitts and his men, Percival ordered the people +to return to their cabins. He promised them that Sancho Mendez +should have his just deserts. Slowly, reluctantly the crowd broke +up and shuffled away in small groups across the dewy Green. Manuel +Crust was free to go. The few words that passed between Landover +and Percival, although unheard by the man, sufficed to put courage +back into his heart. He had come to look upon the banker as his +"pal"! And his "pal" had not failed him! + +This is what Landover said to Percival: + +"Whatever may be in your mind, Percival, I want to say this to you. +I was in Manuel Crust's cabin when the thing happened. There were +eight of us there. I can point out to you the other six. I must +beg you to overlook the fact that we are not friends, and believe +what I am saying. It is the absolute truth." + +"I will take your word for it, Mr. Landover," said Percival, after +a moment. "I am aware of your dealings with Crust and his crowd. +I don't know what the game is, but I do know that you have been +fostering discontent,--it may even amount to revolt,--among; these +men. If you say you were with Crust and that he was not out of +your sight all evening, I will believe you. You may be a misguided, +domineering fool, Mr. Landover, but you are honest. You have failed +to appreciate what you were stirring up,--what you were letting +yourself and all the rest of us in for, that's all." + +Landover flushed. He compressed his lips for a second or two before +speaking. + +"My opposition to you as a dictator, Percival, hardly warrants +the implication that I am in a sense responsible for the devilish +thing that happened last night." + +"I grant you that," said Percival. "Nevertheless, it is your purpose +to down me, no matter what it costs,--isn't that true?" + +"No, it is not true. There is an honest, sincere belief on the part +of some of us that you are not the man to rule this camp. You may +call it politics, if you like,--or revolt, if you prefer." + +"We'll call it politics, Mr. Landover. It was not politics that made +me the superintendent of construction here, however. I've looked +after the job to the best of my ability. I am ready to retire whenever +the people decide they've found a better man. You may be right in +supposing that Manuel Crust is the right man for the job,--but I +don't agree with you." + +Landover started. "Nothing is farther from my thoughts than to turn +the affairs of this camp over to Crust," he said. + +"Once more I agree with you. But that is what you will be doing, +just the same. If you think that Manuel Crust is going to play +second fiddle to you, Mr. Landover, you'll suddenly wake up to find +yourself mistaken. You know what Crust is advocating, don't you? +Well, I guess there's nothing more to be said on the subject." + +"We will drop it, then," said Landover curtly. "I merely want you +to understand that Crust had no hand in last night's affair. I can +vouch for that." + +"Can you vouch for each and every member of his gang?" + +"I know nothing about his gang, as you call it. If I am not +mistaken, this fellow Mendez is one of your pet supporters. He may +be double-crossing you." + +"We'll see. For the present, your friend Crust is safe. As long as +he lives within the law, he is all right. We're going to have law +and order here, Mr. Landover. I want you to understand that. The +best evidence that most of us want law and order is the incredible +manner in which these people have curbed their natural instincts." + +"No one wants law and order more than I," said Landover. + +"And I suppose Manuel Crust is of the same mind, eh?" + +"So far as I know, he is," replied the other firmly. + +Percival looked at him in blank astonishment. "Well, I'm damned!" +he said, after a moment. "Do you really believe that?" + +"It does not follow that he is an advocate of lawlessness and disorder +because he happens to be opposed to some of your pet schemes, does +it, Mr. Percival?" inquired Landover ironically. + +"One of my pet schemes happens to conflict seriously with Manuel's +pet scheme, if that will strengthen your argument any, Mr. Landover." + +"I don't believe Crust ever had any such thought," said the other +flatly. + +"We're not getting anywhere by arguing the point," said Percival. +He turned to walk away. + +"Just a moment," called out Landover, after the younger man had taken +a few steps. "See here, Percival, I don't want you to misunderstand +me. If there is anything in this talk about Crust,--you know what +I mean,--and if it should come to the point where stern measures +are required, I will be with you, heart and soul. You know that, +don't you?" + +Percival studied the banker's face for a moment. "I've never doubted +it for an instant, Landover. We may yet shake hands and be friends +in spite of ourselves." + +Landover turned on his heel and walked away, and Percival, with a +shrug of his shoulders, set about making preparations to safe-guard +Sancho Mendez when he was brought in from the wood. He posted +a number of reliable, cool-headed men around the "meetinghouse," +many of them being armed. Arrangements were made for barricading +the door and the few windows. The prisoner was to be confined in +the building, a long, low structure, and there he was to tell his +story and stand trial. There was to be no delay in the matter of +a trial. + +"You will sit as judge, Mike," said the "boss," addressing Malone. +"There will not be any legal technicalities, old man, and there +won't be any appeal,--so all you've got to do is to act like a judge +and not like a lawyer. We've got to do this thing in the regular +way. Try to forget that you have practiced in the New York City +courts. Remember that there is such a thing as justice and pay +absolutely no attention to what you are in the habit of calling +the law. The law is a beautiful thing if you don't take it too +seriously. Ninety-nine out of every hundred judges in the courts +of the U. S. A. sit through a trial worrying their heads off trying +to remember the law so that they can keep out of the record things +that might make them look like jackasses when the case is carried +up to a higher court,--and while they are thinking so hard about +the law they forget all about the poor little trifle called justice. +I guess you know that as well as I do, so there's no use talking +about it." + +"I guess I do," said Michael Malone. "I live on technicalities when +I'm in New York. If it were not for technicalities, I'd starve to +death. And, my God, man, if we had to stop and think about justice +every time we go into court, we'd be a disgrace to the profession." + +Percival, Peter Snipe, Flattner and several others strode out from +the meeting-house and swept the long line of huts with serious, +apprehensive eyes. They had expected to find the people congregated +at some nearby point, ready to swoop down upon the prisoner the +instant he appeared with his captors at the edge of the wood. To +their amazement and relief, the people had taken Percival's command +literally. They had retired to their huts, and but few of them were +to be seen, even on their doorsteps. + +"Can you beat it?" cried Snipe. "By golly, boys, they've put it +squarely up to us. It's the greatest ex-hibition of restraint and +confidence I've ever known. This couldn't have happened at home. +Hello!" + +The gaze of all was centred upon two persons who walked rapidly +in the direction taken by Fitts and his party. No one spoke for a +few seconds. Flattner, after a quick look at Percival's set, scowling +face, was the first to speak. To a certain degree, he understood +the situation. It was out of pure consideration for his friend's +feelings that he said: + +"I'll go and head 'em off, A. A." + +"Thanks, old chap,--but there's no sense in getting yourself disliked. +I'll do it. I'm in bad already,--and besides I'm the one who gave +the order." + +Near the end of the row of huts, he drew alongside of Ruth Clinton +and Landover. + +"The order was meant for every one, Miss Clinton," he said levelly. +"Am I to understand that you have decided to ignore it?" + +She stopped short and drew herself up haughtily. Their eyes met. +There was defiance in hers. She did not speak. Landover confronted +Percival, white with fury. + +"I am capable of looking after Miss Clinton," he exclaimed. "Your +beastly officiousness--" + +"You will go back to your cabin at once, Miss Clinton," said +Percival, ignoring Landover. + +She did not move. + +"Miss Clinton came out here at my suggestion," said Landover. "If +you have any more bullying to do, confine yourself to me, Percival." + +"I am not doing this because I enjoy it, Miss Clinton," went on the +young man, still looking into her unwavering eyes. "I am sorry it +is necessary to remind you that there are no privileged classes +here. You will have to obey orders the same as every one else." + +"Very well," she said, suddenly lowering her eyes. "Take me back +to the cabin, Mr. Landover. There is nothing more to say." + +Percival stood aside. They walked past him without so much as a +glance at his set, unsmiling face. Landover slipped an arm through +hers. She did not resist when he drew her up close to his side. +Percival saw him lean over and speak to her after they had gone +a few paces. His lips were close to her ear, but though his voice +was low and repressed, the words were distinctly audible to the +young man. + +"Ruth darling, I am sorry,--I can't tell you how sorry I am for +having subjected you to this insult. God, if I could only help +matters by resenting it, I--" + +She broke in, her voice as clear as a bell. + +"Oh, if I were only a man,--if I were only a man!" + +They were well out of hearing before Percival looked despairingly +up at the pink and grey sky and muttered with heartfelt earnestness: + +"I wish to God you were. I'd like nothing better than to be soundly +threshed by you." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + + + + +Just before sunset that evening, Sancho Mendez was publicly hanged. +Confessing the crime, he was carried to the rude gibbet at the far +edge of the wheat field and paid the price in full. He had been +tried by a jury of twelve; and there was absolutely no question as +to his guilt. His companion, a lad named Dominic, callously betrayed +by the older man, fled to the forest and it was not until the second +day after the hanging that he was found by a party of man-hunters, +half-starved and half-demented. He was hanged at sunrise on the +following day. + +Manuel Crust considered himself glorified. After a fashion, he posed +as a martyr. Some sort of cunning, as insidious as it was unexpected, +caused him to assume an air of humility. He went about shaking his +head sorrowfully, as if cut to the quick by the unjust suspicions +that had been heaped upon him by the ignorant, easily-persuaded +populace. + +Sentiment began to swing toward him. He and his so-called followers +were vindicated. It was his gloomy, dejected contention that if +Providence had not intervened he and his honest fellows undoubtedly +would have been placed in the most direful position, so strong +and so bitter was the prejudice that conspired against him. +He was constantly thanking Providence. And presently other people +undertook to thank Providence too. They began to regard Manuel as +a much-abused man. + +The burly "Portugee" haunted the cabin of Pedro the farmer. +He was the most solicitous and the most active of all who strove +to befriend and encourage the unhappy father, and no one was more +devoted than he to the slowly-recovering girl. He carried flowers +to Pedro's hut; he did many chores for Pedro's wife; he went out +into the woods and killed the plumpest birds he could find and +cooked them himself for Pedro's daughter. + +Presently he began to assert a more or less proprietary interest +in the family. It was no uncommon thing for him to issue orders +to the nurses; he hectored the Doctor; and on several occasions he +went so far as to offend such well-meaning ladies as Mrs. Spofford, +Madame Careni-Amori, Mrs. Block and others when they appeared at +Pedro's cabin with delicacies for the girl. And finally the people +in that end of the camp began to speak of Manuel Crust as a good +fellow and a gentleman! + +On Easter Sunday he stood guard over Pedro's cabin while that +worthy and his family went to the "Tabernacle" to attend the special +services. Two of the nurses were inside with the girl, but outside +sat Manuel, a grim watch-dog that growled when any one approached. + +The horror of that black night and the days that witnessed the +wiping out of Sancho Mendez and Dominic hung like a pall over the +camp. Both executions had been witnessed by practically all of the +inhabitants. Captain Trigger came ashore. + +With set, relentless faces the people watched two men go to their +doom. The women were as stony-faced, as repressed, as the men. +Save for the involuntary groans, and the queer hissing sound of +long-pent breath as the black-capped figures swung off into space, +the tremulous hush of intense restraint rested upon the staring +crowd. + +Twice they came out to see men they had known and respected "hanged +by the neck until dead," and on neither occasion was there the +slightest manifestation of pity, nor was there a single word of +gloating. They watched and then they went away, leaving the victims +to be disposed of by the men selected for the purpose. No shouts, +no execrations, no hysterical cries or sobs,--nothing save the +grim silence of awe. For these people, even to the tiniest child, +had ceased to live in the light of other days. + +Peter Snipe, in his journal, wrote of that silent, subdued throng +as other historians have written of the rock-hearted people of Salem, +and of the soulful Puritans who grew heartless in the service of +the Lord. + +They stood afar-off and watched the small detachment of sailors +carry the bodies down to the basin, and every one knew that Sancho +Mendez and Dominic, heavily weighted, were rowed out to the middle +and dumped into a bottomless grave. Some there were who declared that +their bodies would sink for ages before reaching the bottom,--and +no one thought of Sancho Mendez and Dominic without picturing them +as gliding deeper and deeper into the endless abyss of water. + +Michael Malone's speech to the multitude on the shorn edge of the +wheat field was brief. He spoke from the scaffold on which Sancho +Mendez, the blacksmith, sat with a noose around his neck. + +"This man has been fairly tried and he is being fairly punished. +There is no way to circumvent the laws of God or the laws of man on +this island, my friends. The guilty cannot escape. If we transgress +the law, we must pay in proportion to our transgres-sion. This man +is to die. The laws of our homeland would not have demanded the +life of such as he,--but they should, my friends, they should. This +island is small. It will be easy for us to keep it clean,--and we +must keep it clean. We must not live in fear of each other. The +lion and the lamb lie down together here; the thief and the honest +man walk hand in hand. Our sins will find us out. We cannot hide +them. Remember that. In this little land of ours there is nothing +to stand in the way of the soundest principle ever laid down for +man. 'Do unto others as ye would have others do unto you.' That is +the Golden Rule. All we have to do is to observe that rule and there +will be no use for the Ten Commandments, nor the laws of Moses, nor +all the laws that man has made. We don't even have to be Christians. +'Do unto others as ye would have others do unto you.' That, my +friends, is the law of laws. It is the religion of religions." + +"Soapy" Shay, sitting before the fire in his cabin a few nights +after the executions, held forth at some length and with peculiar +emphasis on what he called an exploded theory. + +"As I said before, and as I've always said,--not being a drinking +man myself,--it's all bunk about booze being responsible for all +the crimes that are committed. Now here were these two guys, Sancho +and Dominic. Look at what they did,--and they hadn't touched a drop +for months. I'm not saying that licker is a soothin' syrup for a +man's morals, but what I am saying is that if a feller has got it +in him to be ornery, he'll be ornery, drunk or sober. I was tellin' +Parson Mackenzie only this morning that him and me both have good +reason for not touchin' the stuff,--for differ-ent reasons, of +course,--but I didn't see why other people oughtn't to have it if +they want it. + +"With me, in my former profession, it would have been criminal to +touch the stuff. The worst crime a burglar can commit is to get +drunk. No decent, bang-up burglar ever does it. I don't suppose +there is a more self-respectin' sort of man in the world than +a high-grade burglar. And it's the same with a preacher. He can't +any more preach a good sermon when he is lit up than a burglar +can crack a safe or jimmy a window if he tanks up beforehand. The +parson seemed surprised when I put it right up to him like that. +He said he'd never thought of it in that light before. Of course, +says he, a minister of the gospel ain't even supposed to know what +licker tastes like, and I says to him that's where we have the +advantage of him. We know what it tastes like, and we like it, and +we leave it alone because it cramps our style. He leaves it alone +because it's the style for preachers to leave it alone, and because +they'd go to hell if they drank like ordinary men. The only place +a burglar goes to if he boozes is jail. + +"Well, as I was sayin', this here Sancho wasn't soused when he +committed that crime, and it all goes to prove that these temperance +cranks are off their base. Most of the crime that's committed +in this world is committed because the feller wants to commit it. +When I was up in Sing Sing once,--sort of by accident, you might +say,--there was a lot of talk about prison reform, and pattin' the +crooks on the back, and tellin' them they could be just as good as +anybody else if they had a chance. The only chance them guys want, +and keep lookin' for night and day, is a chance to lift something +when nobody's lookin'. That's all they're thinkin' about while +they're in the pen, and God knows they're as sober as judges all +the time they're there. Crime is crime and you can't always lay it +to booze. It's human nature with some people. I'm not sayin' the +world wouldn't be better off if there wasn't any licker to drink. +It stands to reason that there wouldn't be half so much bunglin' +if people kept sober, 'specially when it comes to crime. Now, if +this guy Sancho had had a couple of pints in him, everybody would +be going around preachin' about the horrible effects of booze, +and--What say?" + +"I said you make me tired," said Buck Chizler, repeating his remark. +"I never did anything wrong in my life except when I was half-soused." + +"Sure," agreed Soapy. "But you'd have done it right if you'd been +sober, my boy. That's the principal trouble with booze. It never +gives a feeler a chance to do anything right." Whereupon, with a +slow wink for the other members of the group, he arose and passed +out into the night. + +"I can't make that feller out," grumbled Buck, uncomfortably. + +Easter Sunday was bright and clear, following a fortnight of cold, +penetrating winds and rain. The sun smiled, but it was a cold smile +that mocked rather than cheered. The sky was the colour of thin, +transparent ice; the vast white dome was unspotted by a single +cloud; the rose tints of early morn, frightened away at birth by the +chill, unfeeling glare, took with them every promise of tenderness +that dawned with the new day. But, though the sky was hard, the +air was soft; the tang of the salt-sea spice lay over everything. + +Percival had no active part in the exercises arranged by Ruth. The +song service was held in the open. A platform had been erected in +front of the "tabernacle" (the meeting-house on occasion) for the +choir and musicians. There were no seats for the congregation. Every +one stood, bareheaded, in a wide semi-circle facing the platform. +The "boss" took his place inconspicuously among those who formed +the outer fringe of the assemblage. His gaze seldom left the face +of the girl he loved. Once her eyes met his. She was on the platform +discussing arrangements with the two clergymen when her roving, +unsettled gaze chanced to fall upon him. For many seconds she stared +at him fixedly,--so fixedly, in fact, that Father Francisco, after +a moment, shot a look in the same direction. Even from his far-off +post, Percival saw the colour mount to her cheeks as she hastily +turned away to resume the conversation that had been so incontinently +broken off. She was bare-headed. He had been watching the sun at +play among the coils of her soft, dark hair,--a glint here as of +bronze, a gleam there as of gold, ever changing under the caresses +of that flaming lover a hundred million miles away. + +The affable Mr. Nicklestick was standing beside Percival, carrying +on a more or less one-sided conversation. + +"You see, it's this way," he was saying, contriving to reduce his +far-reaching voice to a moderate undertone; "I'm not in the habit +of attending Easter services. I'm not opposed to them, believe me, +A. A.,--not in the slightest. Now at home in New York, I make it a +habit to walk from the Metropolitan Museum down to the Waldorf-Astoria +regularly every Easter. Between eleven and twelve-thirty. You get +them going into certain churches and you get them coming out of +others, don't you see? Oh, vat would I give to be on Fif' Avenue +at this minute, A. A.! A hundred thousand dollars,--gladly, +villingly,--yes, two hundred thousand! I vonder vat things are +like on Fif Avenue now,--at this minute, I mean. I vonder what the +vimmin are wearing this season. My God, don't you vish you were on +Fif Avenue, A. A.?" + +"What?" + +"I say don't you vish you were on Fif Avenue now?" + +"No, I don't," gruffly. + +"You--you don't?" gasped Nicklestick. "My God, where do you wish +you were?" + +"Over in France,--or better still, in Germany,--that's where I'd +like to be. Keep still! Can't you see Careni-Amori is singing?" + +Nicklestick was silent for two minutes. Then he volunteered: "Do +you know what that song vould cost if she vas to give it in the +Metropolitan Opera House, A. A.? A thousand dollars, von thousand +si-moleons. And we get it for nothing. It ain't possible to realize +that you can get something for nothing in these days, is it? I vas +saying to Morrie Shine only this morning that--" + +"Sh!" hissed an exasperated Brazilian in front of them. + +"I guess we better not talk any more, A. A.," said Nicklestick, +deprecatingly. Presently he leaned close to Percival's ear and +whispered: "Miss Clinton is looking very fine today, isn't she?" +Receiving no reply, he waited a moment and then went on: "Landover +is a very lucky dog, eh?" Failing again, he was silent for some +time. His next effort was along a totally different line. "I've +been feeling some of the people out in regard to the election next +week. I think it's a great idea. You got a cinch, A. A. Nobody +vants anybody but you for governor. What seems to be--" + +"Sh!" + +"Oh, you go to the devil!" addressed the exasperated Mr. Nicklestick +to the Brazilian. "Ain't we got freedom of speech here on this +island? Veil, then! What seems to be troubling most every one, A. +A., is who is the best man for clerk. Nobody vants to be treasurer, +for why? Because there ain't anything to be treasurer about. Say, +where are you going?" + +"Nowhere," replied Percival, as he strode away. + +Over against the line of trees on the opposite side of the wheat +field still loomed the gibbet from which Sancho Mendez and Dominic +had stepped blindfolded into another and darker world. While Pastor +Mackenzie, leading up to the glorious resurrection, was repeating +the story of the Crucifixion, Ruth Clinton, sitting behind him on +the platform, stared wide-eyed at this gaunt object, and she saw +not Christ on the Cross but the spectre of Sancho Mendez falling +off into darkness. Percival's gaze followed hers, and his heart +smote him,--for it was he who had demanded that the gruesome reminder +be left standing as a warning to carrion. And he had laughed when +Peter Snipe christened it "the scarecrow!" + +"Leave it standing, A. A.," Peter had said, "and you can bet your +boots no jailbird will ever roost on it if he thinks twice. And +it's just that sort of thing that makes a man think twice." + +But the look of dread in the eyes of this girl who could do no +wrong, and yet was to be everlastingly tortured by the sight of +the thing that stood as a silent accuser of all who looked, was +more than Percival could stand. Easter Sunday,--and that gibbet +pointing its long arm toward the little flock in the shadow of +sanctuary,--mocking the good as it beckoned to the bad,--Easter +Sunday and that! + +He stole quietly away, circling the edge of the crowd, his head +bent, his teeth set. Just as he was about to pass from view around +the corner of the "tabernacle," he cast a quick glance at the girl +on the platform. Their eyes met again. She turned her head quickly, +but he was certain that she had followed his movements from the +beginning. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X + + + + + +Toward the close of the exercises, the congregation was startled by +the sound of an ax smiting wood. The blows were rapid and vigorous. +The surprised people looked at each other first in wonder and then +in consternation. Who was guilty of this unseemly sacrilege? + +Finally those on the edge of the multitude discovered the wielder +of the ax. Some one, not easily recognizable, was chopping away the +supports of the scaffold. The crowd grew restless; angry mutterings +were to be heard on all sides. Every eye was turned from the platform +to glare at the lone chopper across the fallow field. + +Madame Careni-Amori, who was about to begin her second song, looked +helplessly at Ruth Clinton. + +Ruth had recognized the man at once. At first she was annoyed, then +there surged over her a great, uplifting thrill of exaltation. She +stepped quickly to the front and, raising her clear young voice, +reclaimed the wandering attention of the throng. + +"Please be quiet. Madame Careni-Amori is to sing for us once more. +Mr. Percival is knocking down that horrible thing over there. It +is right that he should. We do not need it there as a warning. Mr. +Percival has had a change of heart. He has been moved,--tremendously +moved,--by what he has seen in your faces today. That is why he is +over there now hacking down that dreadful thing. It is the skeleton +at our feast. We were conscious of its presence all the time. He +is over there all by himself cutting it down so that our hearts +may be lighter, so that this glad hour may end without its curse. +Please remain where you are. He requires no assistance. He prefers +to do it all alone. And now, if you will all give attention, Madame +Careni-Amori will sing for us." + +Careni-Amori lifted up her glorious voice in song. The rhythmic beat +of the ax went on unceasingly; the powerful arms and shoulders of +the destroyer were behind every frenzied blow. As the last notes +of the song died away, there came the sound of splintering wood, +then a dull crash, and the gibbet lay flat upon the ground. Some +one uttered an involuntary shout. As Percival turned from his +completed work and wiped the sweat from his brow with his bare +forearm, he found the gaze of the entire company fastened upon him. +Then there came to his ears the clapping of hands, then the shrill +clamour of voices raised in approbation. Swinging the ax on high, +he buried its blade deep in the fallen timber and left it imbedded +there. Snatching up his coat from a nearby stump, he waved his hand +to the crowd and then, whirling, was quickly lost among the trees +that lined the shore. + +Landover walked beside the thoughtful Ruth as she crossed the Green +on her way home. He studied her lovely profile out of the corner +of his eye. As they drew away from the dispersing throng, he spoke +to her. + +"If money were of any value here in this Godforsaken spot, I would +offer considerably more than a penny for your thoughts, Ruth." + +She started slightly. "You couldn't buy them, Mr. Landover. They +are not for sale at any price." + +"I suppose there is no harm in venturing a guess, however. You will +give me one guess, won't you?" + +"All the guesses you like,--free of charge," she rejoined airily. + +"You are trying to decide whether or not it was all done for effect." + +She smiled mysteriously, looking straight ahead. Her eyes were very +bright. + +"You are wrong. I was thinking about hats, Mr. Landover. Don't you +know that every woman's thoughts run to hats on Easter?" + +"I confess I had a better opinion of him," he said, disregarding +her flippancy. "I don't like him, but I've never suspected him of +being a stupid ass before." + +"Of whom are you speaking?" she inquired, suddenly looking him full +in the eye. + +"Our mutual friend, the enemy," he replied. + +"Mr. Percival?" + +"Certainly." + +"But I thought he was beneath our notice." + +"We can't very well help noticing him when he goes to such extreme +lengths to attract attention." + +"You think he did it to attract attention?" + +"Not so much that, perhaps, as to get back into the lime-light. +You see, he was rather out of it for as much as half an hour, and +he simply couldn't stand it. So he went off and staged a little +sideshow of his own." + +She walked on in silence for a few moments, torn by doubts and +misgivings. Landover's sarcastic analysis was like a douche of cold +water. Perhaps he was right. It had been a spectacular, not to say +diverting, exhibition. Her eyes darkened. An expression of pain +lurked in them. + +"I can't believe it of him, Mr. Landover," she said at last, in a +slightly muffled voice. + +"I thought it was understood you were to call me Abel, my dear." + +"If he did it deliberately,--and with that motive,--it was unspeakable," +she went on, a faint furrow appearing between her eyes. + +"Of course, I may be wrong," said he magnanimously. "It may have +been the result of an honest, uncontrollable impulse. But I doubt +it." + +"Men do queer, strange things when under the influence of a strong +emotion," she said, a hopeful note in her voice. + +"True. They are also capable of doing very base things. You don't +for an instant suspect Percival of being a religious fanatic, do +you?" + +"Please don't sneer. And what, pray, has religion to do with it?" + +"I dare say Morris Shine is again lamenting the absence of a motion +picture camera. He is always complaining about the chances he has +missed to--" + +"Stop!" + +"Why, Ruth dear, I--" + +"We have no right to judge him, Mr. Landover." + +"Are you defending him?" + +"I don't believe he had the faintest notion that he was +being--theatrical, as you call it. I am sure he did it because he +was moved by an overpowering desire to make all of us happy. He +couldn't bear the thought of that evil thing out there, pointing +at us while we worshipped and tried to sing with gladness in our +hearts. No! He did it for you, and for me, and for all the rest of +us,--and he made every heart lighter when that thing toppled over +and fell. Did you not see the change that came over every one when +they realized that it was destroyed? There were smiles on every +face, and every voice was cheerful. The look of uneasy dread was +gone--Oh, you must have seen." + +"I can only say that it ought to have been done before, Ruth,--not +during the exercises." + +"It was his way of publicly admitting he was wrong in insisting +that it should remain." + +"He had his way with that weak-kneed committee, as usual. The +tactics of that Copperhead Camp he talks so much about are hardly +applicable to conditions here. We are not law-defying ruffians, +you know,--and these are women of quite another order." + +"No one,--not even you, Mr. Landover,--can say that he has been +anything but kind and considerate and sympathetic," she flashed. +"He is firm,--but isn't that what we want? And the people worship +him,--they will do anything for him. Even Manuel Crust respects +him,--and obeys him. And you, down in your heart, respect him. He +is your kind of a man, Mr. Landover. He does things. He is like +Theodore Roosevelt. He does things." + +Landover smiled grimly. "Perhaps that is why I dislike him." + +"Because he is like Roosevelt?" + +"My dear, let's not start an argument about Roosevelt." + +"Just the same, I've heard you say over and over again that you +wish Roosevelt were President now," she persisted. "Why do you say +that if you are so down on him?" + +Landover shrugged his shoulders expressively. + +"I can wish that, my dear, and still not be an admirer of Mr. +Roosevelt," he replied. "But to return to Percival, isn't it quite +plain to you that he was pouting like a school-boy because he had +not been asked to take part in today's exercises?" + +"He was asked to take part in them. I asked him myself." + +He glanced at her sharply. "You never told me you had asked him, +Ruth." + +"The night the crime was committed," she said briefly. "He was very +nice about it. He promised to sing in the choir and--and to help +me with the decorations. After our unpleasant experience the next +day, he had the--shall we say tact or kindness?--to reconsider his +promise." + +"Openly advertising the fact that he preferred to have no part in +any entertainment you were arranging," was Landover's comment. "I +don't believe it was because of any particular delicacy of feeling +on his part, my dear. In any case, the fact remains that he let +you go ahead with the affair, and then, bang! right in the middle +of it he stages his cheap, melodramatic, moving-picture act. Bosh!" + +She turned on him with blazing eyes. + +"You will not see anything good in him, will you? You can't be fair, +can you? Well, I can be,--and I am. He has been fair with both of +us,--and I am ashamed of the way I have treated him. We deserved +his rebuke that morning, and he did not hesitate to turn us +back,--although he realized what it would mean. He loves me, Abel +Landover,--he loves me a thousand times more than you do, in spite +of all your protestations. He--" + +"Why, Ruth,--I--I--" + +"Yes,--I know,--I know you are shocked. And I don't care,--do you +understand? I don't care that! You want your answer, Mr. Landover. +Well, you shall have it now. I cannot marry you. This is final." + +The blood left his face. "You don't know what you are saying, Ruth," +he exclaimed. "You are angry. When you have had time to--" + +"I've had all the time I need," she interrupted shortly. "I don't +want to be disagreeable,--but it's no use, Mr. Landover. I do not +love you. I am sorry if I have misled you into hoping. There is +nothing more to be said." + +"You have misled me," he cried out bitterly. + +"I am to blame, I suppose, for not giving you your answer before +this. I have temporized. It is a woman's trick,--and a horrid one, +I'll admit. I have never even thought of marrying you." + +"Are you in love with Percival?" he demanded. + +"Yes,--I think I am," she replied, looking him straight in the eye. +She spoke with a sort of gasp, as if releasing a confession that +surprised even herself. + +"My God, Ruth,--I can't believe it," he groaned. + +"I have denied it to myself--oh, a thousand times,--I've fought +against it. I've tried to hate him. I've done everything in my power +to make him believe that I despise him. But it's no use,--it's no +use. I--I can't think of anything else. I can't think of any one +else. Oh, I know I am quite mad to say this, but I sometimes find +myself praying that we may never be rescued. It might mean--well, +you can see what it might mean. Thank God, you have driven me to +this confession. It is the first time I have been really honest +with myself. I have lied to myself over and over again about my +feeling toward him. I have lain awake for hours at night lying to +myself--telling myself that I hate him and always will hate him. +Now, it's out,--the truth is out. I have never hated him,--I have +cared for him from the very beginning." + +She spoke rapidly, the words rushing forth like a flood suddenly +released after breaking through the dam, sweeping everything before +it,--resistless, devastating, cruelly rapturous. She thought nothing +of the hurt she was inflicting upon the man beside her; he was an +atom in the path of the torrent, a thing that went down and was +left behind as the flood swept over and by him. As suddenly as it +began the torrent was checked. A hot flush seared her neck, her +cheeks, her brow. + +"What a fool you must think me!" she cried in dire chagrin. "What +a stupid fool!" + +He had not taken his eyes from her transfigured face. He had +listened with his jaw set, his lips tightly pressed, his brow dark +with anger. + +"I don't think that," he said shortly. "You have merely lost your +head, as any woman might, over a picturesque, good-looking soldier +of fortune. Perhaps I should not be surprised, nor even shocked +by what you've just told me. He is the sort that women do fall in +love with,--and I suppose they are not to be blamed for it. No, I +do not think you are a fool. When one reflects that such experienced +heads as those possessed by the irreproachable Obosky, the immaculate +Amori,--to say nothing of the estimable lady we are pleased to +call the 'Empress of Brazil,'--when such heads as theirs are turned +by a man it is high time to admit that he has something more than +personal magnetism. I am wondering how far the contagion has really +spread. There is a difference between contagion and infection, you +know. Infection is the result of personal contact,--contagion is +something in the air. This epidemic of infatuation very plainly +is in two forms. It appears to be both infectious and contagious. +I rather fancy the amiable Obosky has selected the former type of +the prevailing malady. Percivalitis, I believe, is the name it goes +by." + +There was no mistaking the significance of his words. The implication +was clear, even though veiled in the heaviest sarcasm. He had the +satisfaction of seeing the colour ebb from her cheek. Her face +being averted, he missed the swift flicker of pain that rushed +to her eyes and, departing, took away with it the soft light that +had glowed in them the instant before. He had touched a concealed +canker,--the sensitive spot that had been the real cause of her +sleepless, troubled nights,--the thing she had refused in her pride +to accept as the real source of discomfort. + +Down in her soul lay the poison of jealousy, a cruel and malignant +influence that until now had been subdued by a mind stubbornly +unwilling to recognize its existence. + +In the eagerness to supply herself with additional reasons for +hating Percival, she had given her imagination a rather free rein +in regard to his relations with Olga Obosky. While she was without +actual proof, she nevertheless tortured herself with suspicions that +came almost to the same thing; in any case, they had the desired +effect in that they created a very positive sense of irritation, +and nothing seemed to please her more in the dead hour of night +than the feeling that she had a right to be disgusted with him. + +And now, Landover, in his sly arraignment, prodded a very live, raw +spot, and she knew that it was bleak unhappiness and not rancour +that had kept her awake. + +"Is it necessary to beat about the bush, Mr. Land-over? If you have +anything definite to tell me about Mr. Percival and Madame Obosky, +I grant you permission to say all you have to say in the plainest +language. Call a spade a spade. I am quite old enough to hear things +called by their right names." + +"Since you have been so quick to get my meaning, I don't consider +it necessary to go into details. I daresay you have ears and eyes +of your own. You can see and hear as well as I,--unless you are +resolved to be both blind and deaf." + +"Did you not hear me say that I know he loves me?" + +"Yes,--I heard you quite distinctly." + +"As a rule, do men love two women at the same time?" she inquired, +patiently. + +"I have never said that he loves Obosky. It is barely possible, +however, that he may not choose to resist her,--if that conveys +anything to your intelligence." + +"It does and it does not," she replied steadily. "You see, I believe +in him. I trust him." + +"And I suppose you trust Olga Obosky," he said, with a sneer. + +"I understand Olga Obosky far better than you do, Mr. Landover." + +"I doubt it," said he drily. + +"She is my friend." + +"Ah! That measurably simplifies the situation. She will no doubt +prove her friendship by delivering Mr. Percival to you, slightly +damaged but guaranteed to--" + +"Please be good enough to remember, Mr. Land-over, that you are +not speaking to Manuel Crust," she exclaimed haughtily, and, with +flaming cheeks, swept past him. + +He hesitated a moment, and then started to follow her. She stopped +short and, facing him, cried out: "Don't follow me! I do not want +to hear another word. Stop! I can see by your eyes that you are +ashamed,--you want to apologize. I do not want to hear it. I am +hurt,--terribly hurt. Nothing you can say will help matters now, +Mr. Landover." + +"Just a second, Ruth," he cried, now thoroughly dismayed. "Give me +a chance to explain. It was my mad, unreasoning love that--" + +But, with an exclamation of sheer disgust, she put her fingers to +her ears and sped rapidly down the walk. He stood still, watching +her until she entered the cabin door and closed it behind her. Then +he completed the broken sentence, but not in the voice of humility +nor with the words that he had intended to utter. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + + + + +Shay, coming up the walk, distinctly heard what he said. + +"What's the matter, Bill?" he inquired, pausing. "Did she throw +the hooks into you?" + +Landover glared at him balefully. "You go to hell, damn you," he +snarled, and walked away. + +"Soapy" rubbed his chin dubiously as he watched the retreating figure. +Pursing his thin lips, he turned his attention to an unoffending +stump six or eight feet away and scowled at it vindictively. He +was turning something over in his mind, and he was manifestly in +a state of indecision. Ruminating, he spoke aloud, perhaps for the +benefit of a Portuguese farm-hand who happened to be approaching +from the opposite direction, but who still had some rods to cover +before he was within hearing distance. + +"Gee, he's getting to be as decent and democratic as any of us. +Shows what association will do for a man. Two months ago he would +have been too high and mighty to tell me to go to hell. If he keeps +on at this rate, he'll be worth payin' attention to in a couple of +months more. Won't he, Bill?" This to the farmhand, who obligingly +halted. + +Mr. Shay made constant and impartial use of the name Bill. Except +in a very few instances, he applied it to all males over the age of +two, and he did it so genially that resentment was rare. Americans, +Britons, Irishmen, Portuguese, Spaniards, Indians, Swedes,--all races, +in fact, except the Hebrew,--came under the sweeping appellation. +His Hebrew acquaintances were addressed by the name of Ike. + +It so happened that this particular "Bill" was lamentably slow in +picking up the English language. It was even said that he prided himself +on being halfwitted. However, being an exceedingly dull creature, +he was quite naturally a polite one. He was a good listener. You +could speak English to him by the hour and never be annoyed by +verbal interruptions. At regular intervals he would insert a shrug +of the shoulders, or nod his head, or lift an eye-brow, or spread +out his hands, or purse his lips,--and he never smiled unless you +did. + +Perceiving that some sort of an answer was expected, "Bill" +wisely shrugged his shoulders. "Soapy" interpreted the shrug as +affirmative,--having a distinct advantage over "Bill," who hadn't +the faintest idea which it was,--and proceeded to go a little deeper +into the matter. + +"Now, as I was saying, this Landover guy is up against something, +Bill. She handed him something he didn't like. Right on the nose, +too, if I'm any judge. What do you suppose it was, Bill?" + +"Bill" nodded his head very earnestly. + +"That's what I think," said "Soapy," fixing his hearer with a moody, +speculative frown. "Now, I know something about this Landover guy +that she don't know. I suppose A. A. will give me an awful panning +if I up and tell her what I saw that day. He seems to think it's +a secret." + +There was a slight pause, suggesting to "Bill" that he ought to +frown as if also in doubt. + +"At the same time, I think she ought to be told, don't you, Bill?" + +This called for something definite. So Bill scratched his left ear. + +"In the first place, she's too nice a girl to be hitched up with a +Priscilla like him. Now, I don't know what happened here a couple +of minutes ago, but it looks to me as if she needs a little moral +support. It strikes me that this would be a good time to tell her. +What do you think about it, Bill?" + +Always on the lookout for rising inflections, "Bill" was ever in +a position to give prompt replies. He could dispose of the most +profound questions almost before they were out of the speaker's +mouth. His answer to "Soapy's" query was a broad grin,--for he had +detected a sly twinkle in the speaker's eye. He also shrugged his +shoulders and spread out his hands,--and, to clinch the matter, he +winked. + +"Now, I don't want to take this important step without being +backed-up by some clever, intelligent feller like you, Bill," went +on "Soapy." "It's all for her good,--and A. A.'s, too, although he +won't see it in that light. If you say you think she ought to be +told, that's enough for me. If you say she oughtn't,--why, nothing +doing. It's up to you, Bill." + +"Bill" was plainly at sea. You can't decide a question that lacks +an interrogation point. So all that "Bill" could do was to stare +blankly at "Soapy" and wait for something tangible to turn up. Mr. +Shay suddenly appreciated the poor fellow's dilemma and supplied +the necessary relief. + +"What say, Bill?" + +Whereupon "Bill" started to shake his head, but, catching the scowl +of disapproval on "Soapy's" brow, hastily changed his reply to a +vigorous nod. + +"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Shay. "That completely clears my conscience. +So long, Bill." + +And half a minute later he presented himself at Ruth Clinton's +cabin. + +"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Spofford, as she opened the door. She +also opened her eyes very wide, and sent a startled, apprehensive +glance over her shoulder into the warm, fire-lit interior. "What +do you want?" she demanded querulously of the unexpected visitor. + +Mr. Shay took off his hat. "I'd like a few words with Miss Clinton," +he said. "I saw her come in, so she's not out. It's important, +ma'am. She will hear something to her advantage, as they say in +the personals." + +"Will you please return at three o'clock, Mr. Shay? My niece is +resting after the arduous labours of the--" + +"I dassent wait," said "Soapy," with a furtive glance over his +shoulder. "If he sees me, I'll probably have to change my mind." + +"Who is it, Auntie?" called out a clear voice from within. + +"'Soapy' Shay," replied the visitor himself. + +"Mr. Landover will be here presently, Mr. Shay,--" began the obstacle +in the doorway. + +"I guess not," broke in "Soapy," forgetting himself so far as to +wink. "I expect you haven't heard the news, ma'am. He's had his +nose put out of joint." + +"Good heavens! His nose out of--" + +"Come in, Soapy," cried Ruth. + +"Ruth, my dear,--do you know who--do you know what--" + +"Sure she knows," again interrupted "Soapy," unembarrassed. "I'm +not after anybody's jewels, Mrs. Spofford,--and besides which I +am the principal candidate for Sheriff of this bailiwick. You don't +suppose a man who's running for the office of sheriff on Mr. A. +A. Percival's ticket is going to lift anything before election, +do you? Besides which I've made up my mind to be straight as long +as I'm on this island, and if I'm elected,--which I will be,--I'm +going to see that nobody else does anything crooked. Mr. A.A. +Percival is a wise guy,--a mighty wise guy. Says he to me, 'Soapy, +you are one of the most expert--'" + +"Come inside, Soapy," called out Ruth. + +Mr. Shay entered. "You better shut the door, Mrs. Spofford," he +said coolly. "What I got to say is private. As I was saying, A. A. +says to me, 'Soapy, you are one of the craftiest and slipperiest +crooks on this side of the Atlantic Ocean. What you don't know +about crime would fill a book about as thick as a postage stamp. +There's nobody on this island more fittin' to be an officer of the +law. You know everything that an officer of the law ought to know, +and besides which you know everything that a thief has to know. So +you're going to be elected Sheriff of Trigger Island.' That's what +A. A. says to me, and, as usual, he's dead right. Why, ma'am, there +ain't a thief in the universe that can fool me. I don't have to +have any evidence,--not a grain of it. All I got to do is to just +ask 'em why they done it. But what I dropped in to see you about, +Miss Ruth, is--Say, you ain't by any chance expecting A. A. to drop +in, are you? I wouldn't have him ketch me here for--" + +"I am not expecting Mr. Percival, Soapy," she said, her gaze fixed +expectantly on the man's face. + +"Well, then," said he, "I got a little story to tell you. It's the +gospel truth. Just try to forget that I used to be a crook and that +in ordinary times I am one of the most gosh-awful liars on earth. +But there's absolutely no pleasure in lying nowadays, and as for +working at my regular trade, Mrs. Spofford, you needn't be the least +bit nervous. It ain't necessary for you to set on that trunk. Take +this chair, please. Now, you remember some time back that A. A. +and your friend Landover had a mix-up in the last named gentleman's +stateroom, and you also must remember that Mr. Landover told you +about it and that Mr. Percival never told you anything about it. +Well, I was a witness to that fracas. I just happened to be walking +along the deck when something caught my eye and I went up close to +see what it was. You'd never guess what it was. After looking at +it very carefully I discovered it was a port-hole." + +Forsaking his whimsical manner, he related tersely in as few words +as possible the story of the encounter. + +"Now, it's my guess that Mr. Abel Landover didn't speak the whole +truth and nothing but the truth when he furnished you with his +version of the affair. Am I right, or am I wrong?" he asked, in +conclusion. + +"I prefer to believe Mr. Landover's story," said Mrs. Spofford +stiffly. "Will you be good enough to go now, Mr. Shay?" + +"Sure," said "Soapy," rising. "I'm not asking anybody to take my +word against his. I'm just telling you, that's all. Good afternoon, +ladies." + +"It was not Mr. Percival who fired the shot? You are sure of that, +Soapy?" Ruth was standing now. Her eyes were very dark and tempestuous. + +"Sure as my right name ain't Soapy Shay," returned the witness, +holding up his right hand. + +"Ruth, it isn't possible that you place any credence in--" + +"Thank you for coming, Soapy," interrupted Ruth. "It was very good +of you." + +"Soapy" lingered at the door, fumbling his dilapidated hat. Mrs. +Spofford was staring speechlessly at her niece. + +"I'd a little sooner you wouldn't say anything to A. A. about me +peaching on him," said "Soapy," somewhat nervously. + +"I shall not 'peach' on you, Soapy," said the girl, a joyous smile +suddenly illuminating her face. + +"Soapy" went out. As he closed the door, he said to himself: "Next +time you tell me to go to hell, Abe Landover, I guess you'd better +furnish a guide that knows the way." + +As soon as the door was closed, Mrs. Spofford turned upon her +radiant niece. + +"You are not such a fool as to believe that rascal's story, Ruth?" + +"I believe every word of it!" cried the girl. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + + + + +Sailors, sniffing the gale that night, shook their heads and said +there was snow on the tail of it. Morning found the ground mottled +with splashes of white and a fine, frost-like sleet blowing fitfully +across the plain. The ridge of trees over against the shore became +vague and shapeless beneath the filmy veil, while the sea out beyond +the breakers was clothed in a grey shroud, bleak and impenetrable. + +Knapendyke was positive and reassuring in his contention that no +great amount of snow ever fell upon the island. While much of the +vegetation was of a character indigenous to the temperate zone, +there was, he pointed out, another type peculiar to tropical +climates,--and although the latter was of a singularly hardy nature, +it was not calculated to survive the rigours of a harsh, protracted +winter. + +"We'll have spells like this, off and on, just as they occasionally +do in Florida or Southern California, is the way I figure it out," +he said to the group of uneasy men who contemplated the embryonic +blizzard with alarm and misgiving. "Moreover, I believe the wet, +cold season is a short one here. The birds are content to stick +it out. The fact there is no migration is proof enough for me that +the winter is never severe. As the weather prognosticators say, +look out for squalls, unsettled weather, frost tonight, rising +temperature tomorrow, rain the next day, doctors' bills the end +of the month. Avoid crowded street-cars, passenger elevators and +places of amusement. Take plenty of out-door exercise and don't +eat too many strawberries." + +Children, on their way to school in the town hall, shouted with +glee as they romped in the snow-laden gale. It had no terrors for +them. They were not concerned with the dour prospect that brought +anxiety to the hearts of their elders. + +"It's fine to be a kid," said Percival, watching the antics of a +crowd of boys. "Why do we have to grow up?" + +"So that we can appreciate what it was to be a kid," said Randolph +Fitts. + +Ruth Clinton was one of the teachers. There were, all told, about +thirty children in the school, their ages ranging from five to +fourteen. Most of them were youngsters from the steerage, bright-eyed +little Latins who had picked up with lively avidity no small store +of English. They were being taught in English. + +The council, spurred by the far-seeing Percival, recognized the +perils of a period of inactivity following the harvest and the +flailing days. The majority of the men and women would be comparatively +idle. Preparations for the building of a small ship occupied the +time and interest of a few engineers and ship-carpenters, but as +some weeks were bound to pass before the work could be begun in +earnest, an interim of impatience would have to be bridged. Work, +and plenty of it, was the only prescription for despair. + +Already symptoms of increasing moodiness marked the mien of the +less resourceful among the castaways. While it was not generally +known, two men had attempted suicide, and one of the Brazilian +ladies,--a beautiful young married woman,--was in a pitiful state +of collapse. She had a husband and two small children in Rio Janeiro. +The separation was driving her mad. There were others,--both men +and women,--whose minds were never free from the thought of loved +ones far across the waters and whose hearts ached with a great pain +that could not be subdued by philosophy, but they were strong and +they were cheerful. In their souls burnt an unquenchable fire, the +fire of hope; they stirred it night and day with the song of the +unvanquished. + +Improvements in the hastily constructed cabins provided not only +occupation but interest for the able-bodied men and women. There +was no little rivalry in the matter of interior embellishments; +those skilled in the use of implements took great pride in hewing +out and adding more or less elaborate ornamentation to the facades +of their habitations,--such as casements, door-posts and capitals, +awnings, porches, and so forth. A shell road was in process of +construction from one end of the village to the other, while over +in Dismal Forest woodsmen were even now cutting down the towering +Norfolk pines and hewing out the staunch timbers for the ship that +was to sail out one day in quest of the world they had left behind +them. But these enterprises provided work for men only. The women, +in the main, were without occupation. With the approach of winter +the men in active control of the camp's affairs realized that +something would have to be done to relieve the strain,--at least, +to lighten it until spring came to the rescue with toil in the +fields and gardens. + +A system of exchange was being worked out. As has been mentioned +before in this chronicle, the people of the steerage were the +plutocrats. Their hoardings represented real money, the savings of +years. When it came to an actual "show-down,"--to use Percival's +expression,--these people who were poor in the accepted sense, now +were rich. They could "buy and sell" the "plutocrats" of another +day and another world. + +The theory that one good turn deserves another was an insufficient +foundation upon which to construct a substantial system of exchange. +It is all very well to talk about brotherly love, said Percival. The +trouble is that certain brothers are for ever imposing upon other +brothers, and the good turn does not always find its recompense. +Socialism, he argued, is a fine thing until you discover that you +are not alone in the world. Brotherly love began with Cain and Abel, +and socialism is best exemplified by a parlour aquarium. Nothing +happens to disturb the serene existence of the goldfish until somebody +forgets to feed them, and then they begin nibbling at each other. + +"You mend my fence, I'll mend yours," is an ideal arrangement until +you find it is "our fence" and doesn't need mending. + +To Landover, Block and other financial experts was delegated the +power and authority to perfect a fair, impartial monetary system. +First of all, they arbitrarily declared the dollar, the peso and +the shilling to be without value. "Time" script was to be issued +by the governing board, and as this substitute would automatically +become useless on the day the castaways, were discovered and taken +off the island, no citizen was to be allowed to reduce or dissipate +his hoard of real money. + +Landover's proposal that a central depository be established for +the purpose of holding and safe-guarding the possessions of each and +every person was primarily intended to prevent the surreptitious use +of real money. This project met with almost universal opposition. +The "rich" preferred to hang onto their money, thereby running +true to form. While professing the utmost confidence in the present +integrity of the banker and his friends they ingenuously wanted to +know what chance they would have of getting their money back when +these masters of finance were ready to leave the island! So they +elected to hide their gold and silver where it would be safe from +unscrupulous financiers! And nothing could shake them in this +resolve. + +"Time" was the basic principle on which the value of the script +was to be determined, and as "time," in this instance, meant hours +and nothing else, a citizen's income depended entirely on his +readiness to work. Ten hours represented a full day's work. The +hand-press on board the Doraine was used to print the "hours," +as the little slips made from the stock of menu card-board were +called. They were divided into five denominations, viz.: One Hour, +Three Hours, Five Hours, Seven Hours and Ten Hours. Each of these +checks bore the signature of Abel T. Landover and a seal devised +by Peter Snipe, who besides being an author was something of a +draughtsman,--indeed, his enemies said he was a far better artist +than he was an author, which annoyed him tremendously in view of +the fact that he had stopped drawing when he was fifteen because +eminent cartoonists and illustrators had told him he had no talent +at all. The printing and stamping was done on board the Doraine +and the script was shortly to be put into circulation. Landover was +slated to become treasurer of Trigger Island at the general election. + +As an illustration, this sort of dialogue was soon to become more +or less common: + +"What's the price of this hat, Madame Obosky?" + +"Twenty-seven hours, Mrs. Block." + +Or: + +"Gimme an hour's worth of 'smoke,' Andy," meaning, of course, the +substitute for tobacco. + +Or: + +"You blamed robber, what do you mean charging six hours for +half-soling them shoes? If you was any good, you could ha' done it +in half the time." + +Every individual in camp over the age of thirteen was obliged to have +an occupation. To a certain extent, this occupation was selective, +but in the main it was to be determined by a board whose business +it was to see that the man-power was directed to the best advantage +for all concerned. A camp tax was ordered. At the end of the week, +every citizen was required to pay into the common treasury two +"hours." He could not "work out" this tax. It had to be paid in +"cash." Out of the taxes so received, the school, the church, the +"hospital" and the "government" were to be supported. + +The "governor" of Trigger Island and the humblest workingman were +to receive exactly the same pay: "hour" for hour. Thirty thousand +"hours" represented the total issue, or, approximately fifty units +for each individual over the age of thirteen. + +As no man's hours was worth more than another's, and as every +transaction was to be based on time, rather than on money, there +was no small likelihood that any one man or group of men could ever +obtain a commanding grip on the finances of the Island. + +And so it came to pass that all manner of enterprises sprang into +existence. Competition was not allowed. There could be but one +millinery shop, one dress-making establishment, one shoe and sandal +factory, and so on. Everything was conducted on a strictly cash +basis; there were no "charge accounts." + +Olga Obosky, as the proprietress of the millinery shop, earned +no more than any one of her half-dozen assistants,--and they were +all paid by the "government." The same could be said of Madame +Careni-Amori, who conducted a school of music, and the great Joseppi +who graciously,--even gladly,--went into the tailoring business. +Andrew Mott, one time First Officer on the Doraine, opened a "smoke" +store and dispensed cured weed that Flattner authorized him to call +"tobacco." The austere Mrs. Spofford decided to open a dress-making +shop! + +It was all very simple, this man-to-man system of traffic, but no +one took it lightly or in the spirit of jest. They were serious, +they were sober-minded. Interest, incentive, grim determination +centred in the seemingly childish arrangement. Greed was lacking, +for there was no chance to hoard; confidence was paramount, for +there was no chance to lose. + +The "hours" travelled in a circle, from the "government" to people, +from people to "government"; when all was said and done, it was +the product of soil and sea that formed the backbone of the system. + +With the adoption of the plan, it was to become a punishable +offence,--indeed, it was to be classified as treason,--for any +resident of Trigger Island to "forage" for necessities. He could +do what he pleased in respect to the non-essentials, but when it +came to foodstuffs of any kind or description, he was guilty of a +felony if he failed to turn all that he produced or secured into +the general stores. + +"Strikes me," said Randolph Fitts in council meet-ing, "that we +are arriving at the most exquisite state of socialism. This comes +pretty close to being the essence of that historic American dream, +'of the people, by the people, for the people.' Up to date, that +has been the rarest socialistic doctrine ever promulgated, but we +are going it a long sight better. 'From the people, by the people, +to the people.' What do you call that but socialism?" + +"Are you speaking to me?" demanded Percival. + +"In a general way, yes." + +"Well, it's not my idea of socialism. So far as I've been able to +discover, socialism is a game in which you are supposed to take +something out of your pocket and put it into the other fellow's +whether he wants it or not. This scheme of ours is quite another +thing. We're not planning to split even on what we've got in our +pockets so much as we're planning to divide what we've got in our +hands, and there's a lot of difference between a hand and a pocket, +old top. You can see what's in one and you can't see what's in the +other. And, by the way, Fitts, if we let the socialists in this camp +suspect that we're trying to introduce socialism here, there'll be +a revolution before you can say Jack Robinson. They won't stand for +it. They'd let out the blamedest roar on record if they thought we +were trying to deprive them of the right to feel sorry for themselves." + +Ruth hurried over to the town-hall bright and early on this snowy, +gusty morning. The forenoon session of the school began punctually +at 8:30 o'clock. She was there half an hour ahead of time to see +that there was a roaring fire in the huge fire-place, and that +the benches for the scholars were drawn up close to it. There were +two teachers besides herself,--and both of them were experienced +"school marms." She taught the "infant class," comprising about +a dozen tots. The three teachers took turns about in building the +fires, arranging the benches and cleaning the crude blackboard. + +There had been church-services the night before, and the benches +were all in use, arranged so that they faced the combination +pulpit-rostrum-stage at the far end of the room. Tonight there +was to be a general committee meeting to discuss the prospective +financial scheme and the general election that was to take place +the following week. + +The structure was not blessed with a paucity of names. If there +was to be a council-meeting or a camp assembly, it was called the +"Meeting-house." On Sundays it became the "tabernacle." Week-days it +was known as the "schoolhouse," and at odd times it was spoken of as +the "theatre," the "concert-hall," and the "Trigger Island court-house." +In one corner stood the grand piano from the Doraine, regularly and +laboriously tuned by the great Joseppi. Madame Careni-Amori gave +vocal and instrumental lessons here every afternoon in the week, +from three to six. Among the older children there were a number +who had voices that seemed worth developing, and the famous soprano +put her heart and soul into the bewildering task of stuffing the +rudiments of music down their throats. + +Ruth stopped just inside the door and looked about her in astonishment. +The benches had been drawn up in an orderly semi-circle about the +fire-place. Beyond them she observed the figure of a man kneeling +before the fire, using a bellows with great effect. The big logs +were snapping, and cracking, and spitting before the furious blasts. + +She closed the door and started across the room in his direction. +Suddenly she recognized the broad back and the familiar but very +unseasonable panama hat. Panic seized her. She turned quickly, bent +on making her escape. Her heart was beating like a triphammer,--she +felt strangely weak in the knees. As abruptly, she checked the +impulse to flee. Why should she run away, now that the moment she +had wished for so ardently the night before was at hand? Chance +had answered her call with amazing swiftness. She was alone with +him,--she could go to him and lay her weapons at his feet and +say,--as she had said a hundred times in the night,--"I can fight +no more. I am beaten." + +But now that the time had come for bravery, she found herself +sorely afraid. A chill swept through her,--a weakening chill that +took away her strength and left her trembling from head to foot. +The crisis was at hand,--the great, surpassing crisis. She found +herself hazily, tremulously wondering what the next minute in her +life would be like? What would be said in it, what would happen to +her? Would she be in his arms, would his lips be upon hers,--all +in the minute to come? Was the whole of her life to be altered in +the brief space of a minute's time? + +A warm glow suddenly drove off the chill. It came with the realization +that he was building the fire for her,--that his thoughts were +of her,--that he had stolen into the building to make it warm and +comfortable long before she was due to arrive,--and that he would +steal away again as soon as the "chores" were done. + +He arose to his feet and stood over the fire for a moment or +two, watching its lively progress. Appar-ently satisfied with his +efforts, he turned and started toward the door. She was standing +in his path, a shy, wavering smile on her lips. + +He halted, and after an instant's hesitation, stammered: + +"I--I never dreamed you'd be around so early. I thought I'd run +in as I was passing and build a fire for--for the kiddies. Get the +place warmed up a bit before--" + +"Will you let me say something, Mr. Percival?" she broke in, hurrying +the words. + +He fumbled for his hat. "I am sorry if you are annoyed, Miss Clinton. +Please believe me when I tell you I hoped to get out before you +came. I came early so that you would not find me--" + +"You are not letting me say what I want to say." + +She came toward him, her hand extended. "Oh, I don't want to thank +you for lighting the fire and putting the room in order. I want to +tell you that I surrender." + +"Surrender?" he exclaimed, staring. + +"I cannot fight you any longer," she said breathlessly. + +He looked dumbly first at her hand and then into her eyes. She was +an arm's length away. + +"Fight me?" he mumbled, uncomprehending. + +"You--you said we could not be friends. I knew what you meant. +If--if you love me,--oh, if you do love me, we need not be friends. +But I know you love me. If I did not know it I could not have come +to you like this and--" + +"Do I love you?" he cried out. "My God, I--I worship you." + +She held out both arms to him. "Then, we will try no more to be +friends," she murmured very softly. "Here are my arms. I surrender." + +A long time after he said to her as they sat before the jubilant, +applauding fire,--the only witness to their ecstasy: + +"Now I understand why we have never really been friends. It wasn't +what God intended. Even in the beginning we were not friends. We +thought we were,--but we weren't. We were lovers, Ruth,--from the +start." + +"I tried very hard to hate you," she sighed, drawing a little closer +in the crook of his encircled arm. "How wonderful it all is,--how +wonderful!" + +"I never believed it could come true. I hoped, God, how I hoped,--but +it didn't seem possible that this could ever happen. I've wanted +to hold you in my arms, to kiss your dear lips, to kiss your eyes, +to touch your hair, to press you tight against my heart. And here +I am awake, not dreaming, not longing,--and I have done all these +things. Lord! I wonder if I can possibly be dreaming all this for +the thousandth time." + +"I was thinking of you when I came into this room,--not ten minutes +ago,--and suddenly I saw you. I was terrified. I knew then that +my dreams were coming true,--I knew it, and I don't know why I did +not run away. Any self-respecting, modest girl would have done so. +But what did I do? I, a supposedly sensible, well-brought-up--" + +"You caught me trying to run away," he broke in. "I give you my +word, my heart was in my throat all the time I was working over +that fire,--scared stiff with the fear that you would come in and +bayonet me with one of those icicle looks of yours. And see what +really happened!" + +They were silent for some time, staring into the fire. Suddenly +his arm tightened; he drew a sharp breath. She looked up quickly. + +"Why are you frowning?" + +"I was just thinking," he replied after a moment's hesitation. + +He gave a queer little jerk of his head, as if casting off something +that bothered him. Into his paradise had slipped the memory of +a night not long since when he held the yielding, responsive form +of another woman in his arms, and felt the thrill of an ignoble +passion surging through his veins. The kiss of the sensualist had +burned on his lips for days; even to this hour it had clung to them; +he was never free from the fire it had started in his imagination. +And always on Olga's red, alluring lips lurked the reminder that +she had not forgotten; in her eyes lay the light of expectancy. + +"Of whom?" asked Ruth, not coyly, but with a directness that startled +him. She seemed to have divined that his thoughts were not of her +in that brief, flitting instant. + +"Of myself," he answered, quite truthfully. + +She laid her hand on his. "I forbid you to think of any one but +me," she said. + +He was silent for a moment. "I shall never think of any one but +you, Ruth Clinton," he said earnestly. "You have nothing to fear." + +"I believe you," she said, and pressed his hand tightly. After a +slight pause, she went on, looking straight into his eyes: "I might +have lost you, dear,--and I could have blamed no one but myself. +She--she is very alluring." + +He shook his head. "I've always been of the opinion that Samson's +hair needed trimming. His mother probably brought him up with +Fauntleroy curls, poor chap. If he'd had his hair cut regularly, +he wouldn't have looked such an ass when Delilah got through with +him." + +"I don't quite follow the parable." + +"In other words, it's what a man's got in his head and not so much +what he's got on it that makes him strong," he explained, still +more or less cryptically. + +"I am beginning to see. You made good use of what you have in your +head, is that it?" + +"I made use of what you put into it a good many months ago, dear +heart. You have been in my head and in my heart all these months, +and so it was you who made me strong. Without you in there, I +might have been as weak as Samson was before he had his hair cut. +No sensible man blames Delilah. In fact, men are rather strong for +her. When you stop to think how long old Samson got away with it, +and what a shock it must have been to her after she trimmed him and +found there wasn't anything left to speak of, you've just got to +feel sorry for her. She took one good look at his head and understood +why he let his hair grow. He was like the fellow who wears long +whiskers to develop his chin. If Samson had had room enough in his +head for a thought of anything except himself, Delilah wouldn't +have been able to catch him napping." + +She could not help laughing. "You take a most original way of +evading the point. Still, I am satisfied. You did not have room +in your head for any one else but me,--and that's all there is to +it. I can't help feeling tremendously complimented, however. She +is quite capable of turning any man's head." + +"She plays fair, Ruth," he said seriously. "She keeps the danger +signal up all the time. That's more than you can say for most +women." + +"Yes," said she; "she plays fair. She is a strange woman. She has +given me a lot of advice,--and I am just beginning to take it." + +"If I had believed what she told me three months ago," said he, +"this glorious hour would have been advanced just that length of +time." + +Ruth stiffened. "What did she tell you?" + +"She told me I was a fool and a coward; that all I had to do was +to walk up to you and say 'Here, I want you,' and that would have +been the end of my suspense. She told me something I didn't know +and couldn't believe." + +"Indeed! I like her impudence! She--" + +"She told me you were as much in love with me as I was with you. +Honest,--was she right?" + +Ruth sighed. "I suppose she was right." + +"And would you have come to me if I had said 'I want you '?" + +"If you had said it as you say it now, I--listen! Good gracious! +There are the children!" + +She sprang to her feet, blushing furiously. The door opened and +three small children were fairly blown into the room,--three swarthy, +black-eyed urchins who stared in some doubt at the "boss" and the +adored "teacher." + +"Good morning, children," she cried out jerkily, and then glanced +at each of the windows in quick suc-cession. "You don't suppose,--" +she began under her breath, turning to Percival with a distressed +look in her eyes. + +"I wouldn't put it above 'em," said he, cheerfully. + +"We should have thought of the windows." + +"Thank God, we didn't," he cried. + +He went out into the storm with the song of the lark in his heart. + +"God, what a beautiful place the world is!" he was saying to himself, +and all the while the sleet was stinging his radiant face with the +relentlessness of angry bees. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + + + + +As he swung jauntily down the road in the direction of his "office," +all the world might have seen that it was a beautiful place for +him. He passed children hurrying to school, and shouted envious +"hurry-ups" to them. Men and women, going about the morning's +business, felt better for the cheery greetings he gave them. Even +Manuel Crust, pushing a crude barrow laden with fire-wood, paused +to look after the strutting figure, resuming his progress with an +annoyed scowl on his brow, for he had been guilty of a pleasant +response to Percival's genial "good-morning." Manuel went his way +wondering what the devil had got into both of them. + +Olga Obosky was peering from a window as he passed her hut. He waved +his hand at her,--and then shook his head. He had passed her three +dancing-girls some distance down the road, romping like children +in the snow. + +Buck Chizler was waiting for him outside the "office." The little +jockey had something on his mind,--something that caused him to grin +sheepishly and at the same time look furtively over his shoulder. + +"Can I see you for a coupla minutes, A. A.?" he inquired, following +the other to the door. + +"Certainly, Buck,--as many minutes as you like." + +Buck discovered Randolph Fitts and Michael Malone seated before +the fire. He drew back. + +"I'd like to see you outside," he said nervously. + +"Well, what is it?" asked Percival, stepping outside and closing +the door. + +Buck led him around the corner of the hut. + +"It ain't so windy here," he explained. "Awful weather, ain't it?" + +"What's troubling you, Buck? Put on your cap, you idiot. You'll +take cold." + +"Plumb nervousness," said Buck. "Same as if I was pulling up to the +start with fifty thousand on the nag. I want to ask your advice, +A. A. Just a little private matter. Oh, nothing serious. Nothing +like that, you know. I just thought maybe you'd--Gosh, I never saw +it snow like this up home, did you? Funny, too, when you think how +tropical we ought to be. There was a bad blizzard a coupla years +ago in Buenos Aires, but--" + +"Come to the point, Buck. What's up?" + +Buck lowered his voice. "Well, you see it's this way. I'm thinking +of getting married. Tomorrow, if possible. Don't laugh! I don't +see anything to laugh at in--" + +"I beg your pardon, old chap. I couldn't help laughing. It's because +I'm happy. Don't mind me. Go ahead. You're thinking of getting +married, eh? Well, what's to prevent?" + +"Do you approve of it? That's what I want to know." + +"Sure. Of course, I approve of it." + +"I just thought I'd make sure. You see, nobody's ever got married +here before, and I didn't know what you'd think of me--er--sort of +breaking the ice, don't you see." + +"She's finally said 'yes,' has she? Good girl! Congratulations, +old chap,--thousands of 'em'--millions." + +"Well, that takes some of the load off my mind," said Buck, as they +shook hands. "Now, there's one or two things more. First, she says +she won't come and live in a hut where five men besides myself are +bunking. I don't blame her, do you? Second, she says if we ever +get rescued from this island, she won't let me go to the war,--not +a step, she swears. I put up a holler right away. I says to her I +was on my way to the war before I ever met her, and then she says +I ain't got anything on her. She was going over to nurse. But she +says if she gets married she's going to claim exemption, or whatever +they call it, and she says I got to do the same,--'cause we'll both +have dependents then. Then I says the chances are the war's over +by this time anyhow, and she says a feller in the Argentine told +her on his word of honour it wouldn't be over for five years or +more. But that's a minor point. What's rusting me is this: how am +I going to get rid of them five guys in my cabin?" + +"Have you told them you're going to be married?" + +"Oh, hell, they're the ones that told me." + +"It's pretty rough weather to turn men out into the cold, unfeeling +world, Buck." + +Buck scratched his ear in deep perplexity. "Well, it's got me +guessing." He slumped into an attitude of profound dejection. "What +we'd ought to have done, A. A., was to build a hotel or something +like that. If we had a hotel here, there'd be so blamed many weddings +you couldn't keep track of 'em. That's the only thing that's holding +people back. Why, half the unmarried fellers here are thinking +about getting married. They're thinking, and thinking, and thinking, +morning, noon and night. And they've got the girls thinking, too,--and +most of the widders and old maids besides. I don't see how a smart +feller like you, A. A., happened to overlook the possibility of +just this kind of thing happening." + +"Good Lord, what have I got to do with it?" + +"Why, darn it all, you'd ought to have put up a few huts with 'For +Rent' signs on 'em, or else--" + +"By George, Buck! I've got it," cried Percival excitedly. "Have +you thought of a wedding journey?" + +"A what?" + +"Wedding trip,--honeymoon." + +"Well, we might walk up and down the main street here a coupla +times," said Buck sarcastically. "Or take a stroll along the beach +or something like that." + +"What's the matter with a nice long sea voyage?" + +"Say, I'm not kidding about this thing," exclaimed Mr. Chizler, +bristling. "I'm in dead earnest." + +"Has it occured to you that the Doraine is lying out there in the +harbour--Here! Look out! I don't like being hugged by--" + +"My gosh, A. A! Oh, my gosh!" barked the ecstatic bridegroom-apparent. +"How did you happen to think of such a beautiful, wonderful--" + +"How did I happen to think of it?" shouted Percival, just as +ecstatically. "Why, darn your eyes, why shouldn't I think of it? +Why did old Noah think of the Ark? Why, I ask you?" + +"He didn't," said Buck succinctly. "The feller that wrote the Bible +thought of it." + +"What time is it? Oh, Lord, nearly three hours yet before school +is out." + +"Say, are you off your base,--lemme smell your breath. You act +like--Wait a second! There's something else I want to speak to you +about. Is it--is it all right for me to get married? She says I'll +have to get your O. K. before she'll move an inch. She says nobody +can do anything around here without you say so. So I--" + +"You tell her I give my consent gladly, Buck, my boy. Give her a good +kiss for me, and say I'll speak to Captain Trigger this afternoon +about passage on the Doraine. By George, I--I think I'll go and +speak to him about it now." + +"Much obliged, boss. By gosh, you are a brick. There ain't anything +you won't do for a friend, is there?" + +Percival blushed and stammered. "I--I've got to see him anyhow, +Buck,--so don't thank me. By the way, while I'm about it, I suppose +I might as well speak to Parson Mackenzie, eh? Or is it to be Father +Francisco? And that reminds me, I'll have to see Malone and find +out about the legality,--got to have the law on our side, you see, +Buck. Something in the form of a license,--United States of America +and all that,--and also see about fixing up desirable quarters on +board the Doraine. I may have to transfer quite a lot of--er--furniture +and so forth from my hut to the ship, and--" + +"Gee whiz, A. A., you mustn't go to so blamed much trouble for me," +gasped the delighted Buck. + +"Eh? What? Oh, the devil take you! Beat it now. I'm going to be +mighty busy this morning." + +"I'll do as much for you, A. A., if you ever get married," cried +Buck, once more wringing the other's hand. Then he was off up the +road like a schoolboy. + +Shortly before the noon recess, Percival returned from the Doraine. +By this time, the news had spread through the camp that there was to +be a wedding. Every one he met hailed him with the excited question: + +"Say, have you heard the news?" + +"What news?" + +"There's going to be a wedding." + +"Good Lord!" said Percival to himself. "They must have been peeping +through those windows after all." + +Finding that he had ten minutes to spare before school was out, +he decided to call upon Mrs. Spofford. That lady received him with +icy politeness. + +"I have been expecting you," she said. "Your friend Mr. Shay honoured +us with a visit yesterday. My niece is at the school. Will you sit +down and wait for her, or--" + +"I beg your pardon. What was that you said about Shay?" + +"I said he came to see us." + +Percival stared, "He did?" + +"Please sit down, Mr. Percival. Do not ask me to tell you anything +more about Mr. Shay," she went on hurriedly, and in some confusion. +"I don't believe he would like it,--and as he is a dangerous +character, I beg of you not to--" + +"If Soapy Shay dared to intrude--" + +"I implore you, do not think anything more about it. He was most +courteous and polite and all that." + +He remained standing, his gaze fixed upon her face. Somehow, he +guessed the nature of Soapy's visit. + +"I suppose he came as a tale-bearer." + +"I must decline to discuss the matter, Mr. Percival." + +"Mrs. Spofford," he began, with all the dignity of a courtier, "I +have come to request the hand of your niece in marriage. I have +loved her from the very--" + +"Oh, God!" groaned the trembling lady. "It has come at last! It +has come,--just as I feared. For pity's sake, Mr. Percival, spare +her! She is--" + +"I beg your pardon," he broke in, flushing. "I think you misunderstand +me. I am asking your consent to marry her. I believe it is still +customary among gentlemen to consult the--" + +"Permit me to interrupt you, Mr. Percival," said she, regaining her +composure and her austerity. "What you ask is quite impossible. My +niece is,--ah,--I may say tentatively engaged. I am sorry for you. +Perhaps it would be just as well if you did not wait for her to +come in. She will be--" + +"Mrs. Spofford, I am obliged to confess to you that I have already +spoken to Miss Clinton, and I may add that she is not tentatively +engaged. She has promised to be my wife." + +She drew back as if struck. She was silent for many seconds. + +"It would appear that my consent is not necessary, Mr. Percival," +she said at last, "Why do you come to me?" + +"Because, while you may not suspect it, I was born a gentleman," +said he stiffly. + +She received this with a slight nod of the head and no more. + +"My niece, no doubt in her excitement, has neglected to ask you +one or two very important questions," she said levelly. "First of +all, have you any means of convincing us that you do not already +possess a wife?" + +He started. "You are right," he said. "That is an important question, +and she has not asked it. I have no means of convincing you that +I have never been married, Mrs. Spofford. My word of honour is the +only thing I can offer." + +She regarded him narrowly. "Do you consider that sufficient, Mr. +Percival?" + +"I do," said he simply. She waited for him to go on, and was +distinctly impressed by his failure to do so. So far as he was +concerned, there was nothing more to be added. + +"How are we to know what your past life contains? You may have left +your homeland in disgrace, you may even have been a fugitive from +justice. We have no means of knowing. You were a stowaway on board +the Doraine. That much, at least, we do know. We know nothing +more. You are smart, you are clever. Surely you must see yourself +that under other circumstances, under normal conditions, my niece +would not have condescended to notice you, Mr. Percival. We are on +an undiscovered island, remote from the environment, the society, +the--" + +"Permit me to remind you, Mrs. Spofford," he interrupted, a trifle +coldly, "that you just remarked that you know nothing whatever about +me. Isn't it barely possible that my life may contain something +desirable in the shape of family, position and environment?" + +"I recall that Mr. Gray did speak of knowing the Percival family. +My niece never allows me to forget it." + +"Mr. Gray did not know my family. He knew of my family, Mrs. +Spofford, if that conveys anything to you. Not that they would not +have been proud to have known him, for he was a gentleman. As for +my own case, I can only say that I am not a fugitive from justice, +nor have I done anything more disgraceful than the average young man +who has been through college and who, ignoring the counsel of his +father, proceeds to find out for himself the same things that his +father had found out a great many years before,--and his father before +him, and so on back to the beginning of man. My great-great-grandfather +on my mother's side was a comparatively recent settler in America. +He didn't come over from Scotland until about 1750. My father's +people came over in the days of Lord Baltimore. Most of my remote +ancestors were very wicked men. You will find that one of them was +executed in the Tower of London the same week that Lady Jane Grey +went to her death, and another was openly in love with Mistress Nell +Gwyn, thereby falling into disgrace with a monarch named Charles. +I admit that I come of very bad stock." + +A fleeting twinkle lurked in her eyes. + +"You are very adroit, Mr. Percival." + +"Which is as much as to say that I have an agreeable and interesting +way of lying. Is that what you wish to imply, Mrs. Spofford?" + +"Not at all. I say you are adroit because you place me in an +embarrassing position. If I believe your confession that you come +of bad stock, I must also believe that you come of an exceedingly +good old Maryland family." He bowed very low. "My niece, Mr. +Percival, is an orphan. I am and have been her protector since she +was fourteen years of age. She is the possessor of a large fortune +in her own right. Her father,--who was my brother,--gave her into +my care when he was on his death-bed. I leave you to surmise just +what were his dying words to me. She was his idol. I have not failed +him in any respect. You ask me to give my consent to your marriage. +I cannot do so. No doubt you will be married, just as you have +planned. She loves you. I have known it for months. I have seen +this day and hour coming,--yes, I have seen it even more clearly +than she, for while she struggled desperately to deceive herself +she has never been able to deceive me. You are a strong, attractive +man. The glamour of mystery rests upon you. You have done prodigious +deeds here, Mr. Percival. All of this I recognize, and I should be +unfair to my own sense of honour were I to deny you my respect and +gratitude. I must be fair. Fear has been the cause of my attitude +toward you,--not fear of you, sir, but fear for my niece. Now +I am confronted by the inevitable. The thing I have tried so hard +to avoid has come to pass. In these circumstances, I am forced to +confess that I have not been without a real, true admiration for +you. I admit that I have felt a great security with you in command +of our camp. But, even so, you are not the man I would have chosen +to be Ruth's husband. The time is surely coming when we will be +delivered from this island prison, when we will return to the life +and the people and the conditions we knew before catastrophe made +a new world for us. I am thinking of that time, Mr. Percival, and +not of the present. I fear my niece is thinking only of the present +and not of the future." + +He had listened with grave deference. "Forgive me if I appear +impertinent, Mrs. Spofford, but is it not, after all, the past you +are thinking about?" + +She did not answer at once. His question had startled her. + +"Youth does not live in the past," he went on quietly. "It deals +only with the present. I love Ruth Clinton,--I love her with the +cleanest love a man can feel for a woman. It will not alter when we +leave this island. If we are fated to spend the rest of our lives +here, it will endure to the end." + +"You are speaking for yourself," she said. "Can you speak for Ruth?" + +"No, I cannot," he admitted. "Nor can you," he added boldly. "That +is what I meant when I asked if you were not thinking chiefly of +the past. I cannot say that Ruth will love me always, but I can +say this: she loves me now, as I love her, and in her heart she +has said just what I said to you a moment ago,--that her love will +endure." + +"I daresay I do think more of the past than of the present, Mr. +Percival. You are right about the future. It is a blank page, to +be glorified or soiled by what is set down upon it. Fate has thrown +you two together. Perhaps it was so written in the past that you +despise. A single turn of the mysterious wheel of fortune brought +you into her life. Half a turn,--the matter of minutes,--and you +would never have seen each other, and you would have gone your +separate ways to the end of time without even knowing that the other +existed. No doubt you both contend that you cannot live without +each other. It is the usual wail of lovers. But are you quite as +certain in your minds that you would have perished if you had never +seen each other?" + +The note of irony did not escape him. He smiled. "In that case, +Mrs. Spofford, we should not have existed at all." + +She shook her head despairingly. "You are too clever for me," she +said. "I warn you, however, that I shall do everything in my power +to persuade Ruth to reconsider her promise to you." + +"Nothing could be fairer than that," said he, without rancor. "If +she comes to me this afternoon and says she has changed her mind +and cannot marry me, I shall not ask her again. Will you be kind +enough, Mrs. Spofford, to include that in your argument? It may +spare her a lot of worry and anxiety." + +He bowed ceremoniously and took his departure. She went to the window +and, drawing aside the curtain, watched him until he disappeared +down the road. Then, as the curtain fell into place, she said to +herself: + +"Their children will be strong and beautiful." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + + + + +A fortnight later, Ruth and Percival were married. He was now +governor of Trigger Island. + +The ceremony took place at noon on the Green in front of the Government +Building,--(an imposing name added to the already extensive list +by which the "meeting-house" was known),--and was attended by the +whole population of the island. His desire for a simple wedding +had been vigorously, almost violently opposed by the people. Led +by Randolph Fitts and the eloquent Malone, they demanded the pomp +and ceremony of a state wedding. As governor of Trigger Island, +they clamoured, it was his duty to be married in the presence of +a multitude! A general holiday was declared, a great "barbecue" +was arranged--(minus the roasted ox),--and when it was all over, +the joyous throng escorted the governor and his lady to the gaily +decorated "barge" that was to transport them from the landing to +the Doraine. + +Olga Obosky made the bride's bonnet and veil, and draped the latter +on the morning of the wedding day. Like the fabled merchants of +the Arabian Nights she appeared to the bride-elect and displayed +her wares. From the depths of her theatre trunks she produced a +bewildering assortment of laces, chiffon, silks, and the filmiest +of gauzes. + +"You must not be afraid zat they will contaminate you," she explained, +noting the look of dismay in Ruth's eyes. "Zey have never adorned +my body, zey have never been expose to the speculating eye of the +public, zey have not hid from view these charms of mine. No, these +are fair and virtuous fabrics. It is you who will be the first +to wear them, my friend. Take your choice. See! Zis piece, is it +not wonderful? It comes from Buda Pesth. One day it would perhaps +have caressed my flesh in the Dance of the Sultan's Dream,--but, +alas,--zat is not to be. Feel, my friend,--take it in your hand. +See? You could hide it in the palm of one of them,--and presto! +Throw it outspread,--and it is like a blanket of mist filling the +room. It is priceless. It is unobtainable. None except Obosky can +afford to dance in such imperial stuff as this. Take it,--it is +yours. It is my pleasure that you should have it. Better far it +should be your bridal veil than to drape these abandoned legs of +mine." + +And so it was that the scant costume of the Sultan's Dream became +the bridal veil of the governor's lady. + +If Olga Obosky was sore at heart, she gave no sign. On the contrary, +she revealed the sprightliest interest in the coming nuptials. +Percival himself had told her the news within the hour after his +interview with Mrs. Spofford. In his blind happiness, he had failed +to notice the momentary stiffening of her body as if resisting a +shock; he did not see the hurt, baffled look that darkened her eyes +for a few seconds, and the swiftly passing pallor that stole into +her face and vanished almost instantly. He saw only the challenging +smile that followed close upon these fleeting signs, and the mocking +gleam in her eyes. + +"So?" she had said. "So the citadel is yours, my friend. Hail to +the chief! I salute you. But con-sider, O conqueror, what it is +you are about to do. You are setting a woeful example. There will +be a stampede, a panic. People will trample each other under foot +in ze mad rush for captivity. The wedding bell will crack under ze +strain of so much ringing. Everybody will be getting married, now +zat they find it is so easy and so simple. I congratulate you, my +friend. You have been very slow,--I have said she was yours for +the asking, you will remember. She is good, she is beautiful, she +is pure gold, my friend. I am her friend. Do not ever forget, my +Percivail, I am her friend." + +He flushed warmly. He could not misinterpret her meaning. She spoke +slowly, deliberately. It was renunciation on her part. + +"I understand, Olga," he said. + +She smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. + +"Oh, but you do not understand!" she cried. "You are so very much +perplexed. It is enough for me that you are perplexed. I am content. +I am the puzzle you will never solve. So! La la! You will never +cease to wonder. Look!" + +She pointed her finger at a man who was crossing the Green below +them. + +"I am a puzzle to zat man also. He thought that he understood." + +"Landover? What do you mean?" + +A spasm of fury transformed her features. She hissed out the words: + +"I did spit in his face last night,--zat is all." + +The thirteenth of April, 1918, came on Saturday. Defying superstition, +Ruth selected it as her wedding day. It was a bright, warm autumn +day, bestowed by a gallant sun, and there was great rejoicing over +this evidence of God's approval. It came as a winter's whim, for +that night the skies were black and thunderous; the winds roared +savagely between the lofty walls of Split Mountain and whined across +the decks of the slanting Doraine, snug in the little basin, while +out on the boundless deep the turmoil of hell was raging. + +And so began the honeymoon of the stowaway and the lady fair, even +as the "voyage" of the jockey and his bride had begun a fortnight +before. They sat at the Captain's table in the ghostly, dismantled +saloon. Above them hung two brightly burnished lanterns, shedding +a mellow light upon the festal board. Outside, the whistling wind, +the swish of the darkened waters, the rattle of davits and the +creak of the straining timbers. + +Up from his place at the head of the table rose the gray and gallant +skipper. + +"Up, gentlemen," said he, his face aglow. "I give you the health, +the happiness and the never diminishing glory of the governor's +lady." + +"May she never be less," added the gaunt First Officer, who spent +his days ashore watching the growth of a new Doraine and his nights +on board with the failing master of the older one. + +And in the rare old port from the Captain's locker they pledged +the radiant bride. + +"A long voyage and a merry one!" cried Mr. Codge, the purser, as +he drained his goblet dry. + +Mr. Furman Nicholas Chizler bowed very gravely to the lady on the +Captain's right, and then to the one at his left. + +"What care we which way we sail so long as the wind's behind us?" +quoth he. + + + + + + +BOOK THREE + +CHAPTER I + + + + + +In the far-off Northland it is winter again,--the winter of 1919-20. +Trigger Island is bright and clean with the furbishings of summer. +It is January,--January without its coat of white,--January as +green as the tender gourd. + +There are a dozen graves or more on Cape Sunrise; Betty Cruise no +longer lies alone out on the windswept point. Crudely chiseled on +the rough headstones are names that have not been mentioned in this +chronicle, still not the less enduring. One name is there, however, +chipped in a great black slab from the face of Split Mountain, +that will never be forgotten as long as Trigger Island exists: it +is that of Captain Weatherby Trigger. + +The master of the Doraine died aboard-ship in the second winter. +After his death the ship was abandoned. Mr. Codge and the half-dozen +old mariners who had made their home in the dismal hulk came ashore. + +Grim and ugly and as silent as the grave, save for the winds that +moan through her portholes and corridors, she lies rusting in sun +and storm, a gloomy presence that fills the soul with awe. Even the +birds of the air shun her barren decks; less fastidious bats have +taken up their abode in the heart of her, and spiders great and +small are at work on a sickly shroud. + +Twenty months have passed. Christmas and New Year's day have twice +been celebrated and another Easter Sunday has found its way into +the faithful journal of Peter Snipe, and with them two amazing +Fourths of July when there was coasting on the long slopes and +winter sports on the plains. There has been one bountiful harvest +and seed has been sown for yet another. The full length of the sunny +plain is under cultivation. The bins in the granaries are well-filled +with the treasures of the soil; the gardens have increased and +flourished; the warehouse is stacked with fresh and dried fruits, +vegetables, honey, and row upon row of preserves! Great earthen +jars, modeled with all the severity of the primitive cave-dweller, +serve as receptacles. The grist-mill on Leap Frog River is busy +from dawn till dusk; the forge rings with the music of hammer and +anvil; a saw-mill in the heart of Dismal Forest hums its whining tune +all day long. A noisy, determined engine, fashioned by mechanics +out of material taken from the engine and boiler room of the Doraine +provides the motive power for the saws and the means to produce +ponderous, far-reaching blasts on the transferred "fog-horn." + +New and more commodious huts have gone up, roads have been blazed +through the forests, a logging ferry plies between the opposite +shores of Mott Haven, and a ship is on the ways above the landing +"stage." + +At the top of Split Mountain stands a lofty wireless tower. For +months it has been spitting vain messages to the four winds. Out of +the great silences at rare intervals come faint flickers of radio +calls, jumbled, indistinct, undecipherable,--but, for all that, +definite pulse beats of a far-off life. + +Trigger Island went mad with joy when the first of these aerial +mutterings was reported down from the mountain-top. "Only a question +of time now," they cried in their delirium. But weeks went by before +another sound was heard. Now the report of feeble, long-separated +manifestations, like vague spirit-rappings, no longer caused +excitement or enthusiasm,--only a rueful shaking of heads. + +Lieutenant Platt's station at the top of the mountain is a rude, +elementary affair, notwithstanding the many weary, puzzling, +disheartening months spent in its construction. The damaged, almost +useless dynamo from the Doraine had to be repaired and conveyed to +the crest of the eminence; what seemed to be fruitless ages were +consumed in devising an engine with power sufficient to produce even +the feeble results that followed. And when the task of installing +the plant was completed, the effective radius was far short of a +hundred miles. Constant efforts were being made to develop greater +sending power, but the means at hand were inadequate, the material +unobtainable. + +The firing of the Doraine's gun had long since been discontinued. +The supply of shells being greatly reduced, Lieutenant Platt decided +to waste no more of them, but to wait for some visible evidence +that a vessel was within signalling distance: a shadowy plume of +smoke on the far horizon or the white tip of a sail peeping over +the rim of the world. + +Frugality is the watchword. The days of plenty are sternly guarded +so that their substance may not be squandered; always there is the +thought of the lean year that may come, the year when the harvests +fail and famine stalks naked through the land. + +The first law, therefore, is thrift. Not thrift in its common, +accepted sense, based on the self-denial of the individual, but a +systematic shoulder-to-shoulder stand for the general welfare of +the community. There is no such thing as waste on Trigger Island. +The grim spectre of want and privation treads softly behind every +mortal there, and there is none who treats its invisible presence +with disdain. Even the wood-ashes from stoves and fireplaces are +carefully hoarded in hoppers, for the alkaline solution obtained +by treating them with water is lye. This lye is being used chiefly +in the production of a soap not unlike that made by thrifty farmers' +wives in the Argentine, experimentation with the pulpy fruit of a +tree belonging to the variety known as Sapindus marginatus bringing +about rather astonishing results. + +For many months of the year the people wear sandals on their bare +feet. Only those who toil in the forests don the uncouth boots +turned out by the firm of cobblers known as Block & Nicklestick. +Shoes, boots and slippers of another day are zealously guarded by +their owners, in anticipation of still another day,--the day of +deliverance. "Waste not, want not," is the motto of Trigger Island. + +The second winter brought a double catastrophe, and for days +thereafter deepest gloom prevailed. Even the stout-hearted Percival +drooped under the weight of it. + +Fire wiped out the work of months in the space of a few bleak, +bitter hours. The sturdy little ship that was so well along toward +completion was destroyed. + +Months of faithful, patient, dogged toil had resulted in the +construction of a stout hull which stood proudly on the ways to +be admired and glorified by the eager, confident supporters of the +determined little band of builders. Six weeks more would have seen +the vessel off the ways and floating gaily on the surface of the +snug little basin, ready for the final touches, the provisioning +and the ultimate departure of the hardy company that was to take +her out into the open stretches in quest of the helping hand. +For weeks a devoted, one-minded community had been preparing food, +raiment and comforts for the men who were to go forth in the +new Doraine. The masts and spars were in place, the forecastle +and cabin were almost ready for occupancy, the galley was nearing +completion,--and then came swift, relentless disaster. + +The night was cold and windy. Down at the water's edge, almost +under the bulging side of the ship, two men had their quarters at +one end of the low, rambling carpenter shop. At the other end was +located the forge. The very thing they were there to guard against +happened on this miserable night. Fire broke out in the forge. + +The man on watch had fallen asleep. His name was Smiley. It is +mentioned here for the only time in this narrative. + +Shortly before midnight, his companion was awakened by the smell of +smoke. He scrambled out of his blankets on the floor,--and cursed +the man who still slept in his chair beside the smoke-befogged +lantern on the end of a carpenter's bench. Flames were creeping +along the wooden partition separating the forge from the shop. Half +a mile away three hundred men were sleeping,--but half a mile is +half a mile. Before the watchmen could sound the alarm, after their +first courageous efforts to subdue the blaze, the building was a +roaring mass of flames and a gleeful wind had carried tongues of +fire to the side of the vessel where they licked shapeless black +patterns at first and then swiftly turned them to red. + +Stark-eyed, shivering people stood far back among the trees throughout +the rest of the night and watched the work of months go up in flame +and smoke. Noth-ing could be done to save the ship. Hewn from the +hardiest trees in the forest, caulked and fortified to defy the +most violent assaults of water, she was like paper in the clutch of +flames. In the grey of early morn the stricken people slunk back +to their cabins and gave up hope. For not only was their ship +destroyed but the priceless tools and implements with which she had +been built were gone as well. It was the double catastrophe that +took the life, the spirit, out of them. + +And while the day was still breaking, the man who had slept at his +post, stole off into the forest and cut his throat from ear to ear. + +But now, months afterward, another ship is on the ways. Indomitable, +undaunted, the builders rose above disaster and set to work again. +New tools were fashioned from steel and iron and wood,--saws, +chisels, sledges, planes and hammers--in fact, everything except +the baffling augurs. Resolute, unbeaten hands toiled anew, and this +time the humble craft was not to be given a luckless name. + +Superstition was rife. All save Andrew Mott saw ill-omen in the +name "Doraine." Steadfastly he maintained that as the Doraine had +brought them safely to the island, guided by a divine Providence, +a Doraine could be trusted to take them as miraculously away. And +as for changing the name of his prattling ward, he fairly roared his +objection; though an uncommonly mild man for a sailor, he uttered +such blasphemous things to a group of well-meaning women that even +Sheriff Soapy Shay was aghast. + +After the dreary period that followed the disaster, there came +a sharp awakening as from a dream filled with horrors. Something +lying dormant in the com-mon breast had stirred. It was the +unbeaten spirit that would not die. These men and women lifted up +their heads and beheld the star of hope undimmed. In a flash, the +aspect changed. + +"We must start all over again," was the cry that awoke them, and +from that time on there was no such word as fail in the lexicon of +Trigger Island. + +Slowly, laboriously out of the ashes rose a new hull, a stauncher +one than its ill-fated predecessor. The year wasted in the building +of the first ship was lamented but not mourned. Cheerfulness, even +optimism, prevailed throughout the village. No man, no woman lifted +the voice of complaint. Resignation took the form of stoicism. A sort +of dogged taciturnity was measurably relieved by the never-failing +spirit of camaraderie. There was even a touch of bravado in the +attitude of these people toward each other,--as of courage kept up +by scoffing. Even Death, on his sombre visits, was regarded with a +strange derision by those who continued to spin. They had cheated +him not once but many times, and they mocked him in their souls. + +"I'm not afraid of Death," was Buck Chizler's contribution. "I've +just discovered that Death is the rottenest coward in the world. +He either waits till you get too blamed old to fight, or else he +jumps on you when you ain't looking, or when you're so weak from +sickness you don't care what happens. I used to be afraid of Death. +And why? Because I wasn't onto the old bum; Why, look at what +he does. He jumps onto weeny little babies and feeble old women +and--and horses. Now, I'm onto him, and I ain't got any use for a +cheap sport,--not me." + +The little community had taken to religion. As is invariably the +case, adversity seeks surcease in some form of piety. Men who had +not entered a church since the days of their childhood, men who had +scoffed at the sentimentality of religion, now found consolation in +the thing they had once despised. They were abashed and bewildered +at first, as one after another they fell into the habit of attending +services. They were surprised to find something that they needed, +something that made life simpler and gentler for them, something +uplifting. + +"We're a queer mess of Puritans," reflected Randolph Fitts. "You +know that parrot of old Bob Carr's? Well, he took it out and wrung +its neck last night,--after all the time, and trouble, and patience +he spent in giving her a swell private education. There never was +a bird that could swear so copiously as that bird of Bob's. He +taught her every thing she knew. He worked day and night to provide +her with an up-to-date vocabulary. He used to lie awake nights +thinking up new words for old Polly to conquer. Now he says the +blamed old rip was deceiving him all the time. She began springing +expletives on him that he'd never heard of before in all his forty +years before the mast. She first began using them a couple of months +ago when he undertook to reform her. He started in to teach her to +say 'good gracious' and 'goodness me' and 'hoity-toity' and all +such stuff, and she cursed so loud and so long that he had to throw +a bucket of water on her. + +"Every time he came home from church, that redheaded harridan +would open up on him with such a string of vituperation that he had +to hold his ears so's not to forget himself and backslide. Well, +it got so that Bob couldn't live with her any longer. She simply +wouldn't puritanize. The nearest he ever got her to saying 'good' +was when she said it with only one 'o,' and then as prefix to +'dammit.' So he decided the only way to reform her was to murder +her. She managed to nip a piece out of his hand while he was doing +it, however, and he's had the hump all day because he fell from +grace and said something he'd oughtn't to. Yes, sir; we're a queer +mess of Puritans. Look at us. Catholics, Presbyterians, Baptists, +Methodists, Jews, infidels, Theosophists,--even Christian +Scientists,--all rolled up into one big bundle labeled: 'Handle +with Prayer.' We know nearly all the Ten Commandments by heart, and +the Beatitudes flow from us in torrents. My wife was saying only +the other night that if Sheriff Shay didn't arrest that bird for +using profane language, she'd start a petition to have--Hello, +Soapy! I didn't know you were present." + +"What was she going to do?" demanded the Sheriff of Trigger Island. + +"There's no use telling you now. It's too late. Polly has gone to +a place I don't dare mention, so what's the use talking about it?" + +"I can't go 'round pinchin' fallen parrots," growled Soapy. +"Besides, I'm the feller that learned her most of the cuss-words +old Bob never heard before. I never saw a bird that was so anxious +to improve. She used to set there with her ear cocked, just simply +crazy to learn something new. Every time she'd see me coming she'd +begin to hop up and down on her perch and call me names, figurin' +I'd lose my temper and give her a tongue lashin'. Gosh, I'm glad +she's dead. It was gettin' to be an awful nuisance chasing parrots +out of the trees back of Bob's house. They got so's they'd come down +there and set around all day pickin' up things she said. Somebody +told me the other day he heard a parrot 'way up in the woods swearin' +like a sailor. He fired a club at it, and what do you think it said +to him?" + +"If you weren't such an ungodly liar, Soapy, I'd ask you," said +Chief Justice Malone. + +Soapy regarded him sorrowfully. + +"If you keep on sayin' things like that, Judge, I'll have to tell +your wife you ain't true to her," said he. + +"And that would be the most prodigious lie you ever told," exclaimed +Mr. Malone. + +"Sure. You and me know it's a lie, but you'd ketch hell, just the +same." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II + + + + + +The population of Trigger Island has increased. Following the example +of Buck Chizler and the Governor himself, scores of dubious lovers +took heart. They succeeded in dispelling certain misgivings--and doubts +lurking in the hearts,--not to say consciences,--of approximately +three-fourths of the unmarried women on the island, with the result +that Father Francisco and Parson Mackenzie were kept exceedingly +busy for a number of weeks. + +The "state," guided by the newly elected Chief Justice, extracted +vows even more severe than those incorporated in the marriage +service. And yet, despite the emphatic declarations of certain +candidates,--principally male,--there remained in the minds +of all,--including brides,--a lingering doubt. On the other hand, +several ardent and undoubtedly honest gentlemen were unable to marry +the objects of their affection for the simple reason that too many +people were able to recall the lamentations of the ladies themselves, +in the early days when it was customary to suffer because of the +suspense and agony their poor husbands were enduring at home. + +The case of Joe Hooker and Matilda Larson was particularly distressing, +and ultimately led to the passage of a rather drastic law by the +Council. Judge Malone was the father of this law. It provided for +the automatic annulment of all previous marriages at the expiration +of two years,--provided, however, the absent husband or wife didn't +turn up to contest the matter. This law also granted absolute +freedom to the absent husband or wife, who was thereby authorized +to remarry without further notice,--or words to that effect. It +was, declared Randolph Fitts, a perfectly just and equable law, +and would no doubt ease the minds of quite a number of people in +far-off lands,--if they ever heard of it. + +Joe and Matilda had been married nearly two months when, in the +thick of a connubial row, he demanded her passport. He even went so +far as to threaten her with his if she didn't produce it at once. +Matilda's temper was no milder than Joe's. She not only dug up her +passport but a marriage certificate as well, while all he could show +was a passport. It was a very unfortunate contretemps, in view of +the fact that they shortly afterwards kissed and "made up." It so +happened that there were quite a number of witnesses to the flaunting +of these damaging documents, and as Trigger Island was then in the +first stages of a religious upheaval, it was impossible to overlook +this definite instance of iniquity. Despite the recantations of +the chagrined couple,--and, it must be added, the surreptitious +disappearance of the incriminating papers,--the matter was brought +before the tribunal of justice. Chief Justice Malone was equal +to the emergency. Indeed, he had been expecting something of the +sort, and was prepared. He ordered both of the interested parties +to bring suit for divorce from their legal spouses, one for "failure +to provide," the other for "desertion," and promptly granted decrees, +service by publication having been obtained through the medium of +the Trigger Island Pioneer, printed monthly by Peter Snipe, editor +and publisher, limited to an edition of one, owing to the scarcity +of paper, and posted conspicuously for all subscribers on the +bulletin board in front of the "government building." Additional +spice was lent to the affair by the surprising reluctance of Joe and +Matilda to re-enter the paradise from which they had been ejected. +Apparently they had had enough of each other. Moreover, they had +both "got religion" and insisted on repenting at leisure, separately +and alone. But people took a very decided stand in the matter. +They could repent in any manner they liked after Matilda's baby +was born, but not before. And so they were married once more, and, +strange to relate, lived happily and contentedly thereafter. + +Now, while all this may strike the reader as footless and trivial, +it really has a distinct place in the chronicles of Trigger Island. +If, perforce, the writer has succeeded in treating the situation +facetiously, it should not be assumed that the people of Trigger +Island had any desire or inclination to be funny about it. On the +contrary, they took it very seriously, and quite naturally so, +if one stops to consider the narrow confines by which their very +existence was bounded. There were no such things as "trifles" in +the daily life of Trigger Island. The smallest incident took on the +importance of an event, the slightest departure from the ordinary +at once became significant. In other circumstances, these people would +have been vastly amused by the quixotic settlement of the affairs +of Joe and Matilda; they would have grinned over the extraordinary +decree of Justice Malone, and they would have taken it all with +an indulgent wink. As a matter of fact, they were stern-faced and +intense. They had made laws of their own, they had established a +code. The violation of either was not to be countenanced. It was +of no consequence to them that Judge Malone's methods were without +precedent, that they were not even a travesty in the true light of +the law. + +No one was more soberly in earnest than Michael Malone himself. The +proceedings were carried out with the utmost dignity and formality. +There were no smiles, no jocose comments. + +Nothing will serve more clearly to illustrate the sense of isolation +to which the people of Trigger Island had resigned themselves than +the fact that they accepted the Judge's decision and the subsequent +marriage as absolutely unassailable, either from a legal or an +ethical point of view. + +The town itself was flourishing. Traffic and commerce were carried +on in the most systematic, organized manner. Everybody was busy. +The utter impossibility for one man or set of men to profit at the +expense of others naturally put a curb upon ambitions, but it did +not subdue the spirit of enterprise. + +There is a baby in the Governor's Mansion,--a lusty boy with blue +eyes and an engaging smile. He is four months old, and his name +is already a household word on Trigger Island. It is not Algernon, +nor is it Adonis. It is John;--John Clinton Percival. + +The Governor's Mansion is a pretentious structure. It has four rooms +and a bath! A wide porch extends along the full front of the house, +with a steeply pitched awning protecting it from the rain and sun. +At one end of the porch is a very cosy arrangement of hand-wrought +chairs and a commodious swinging seat. The other end, just +off the parental bed-chamber, has been converted into an out-door +sleeping-room for John C. Percival. The Governor's lady has no +nursemaid. She does her own housework, her own washing and ironing, +and she takes care of her own baby. (There is no such thing on +Trigger Island as a servant. More than one woman who reads this +tale will sigh and murmur something about Paradise.) Ruth still +teaches in the little school. Though she is the first lady of the +land, she supports herself, she earns her daily bread. It is the +law irrevocable. There are no distinctions. Nor would she have it +otherwise. + +The "Mansion," as it was universally called, stands alone at the +upper end of the Green, facing the meeting-house. The nearest hut +is at least two hundred yards away. Work on its construction was +begun the day after the wedding. For weeks men had toiled eagerly, +enthusiastically, voluntarily, and in the first gay days of spring +it was completed. Since then, the same hands, the same thoughts, +the same interests were constantly employed in improvements,--not +only to the house itself but to the grounds about it. The Governor's +"Mansion" became the plaything of the people. Percival's protests +were received with amiable grins. + +"It's our house, boss,--not yours," explained Buck Chizler, whose +spare time was largely expended in the development,--you might +almost say, the financing,--of a flower-bed on the lawn. It was to +be the finest flower-bed of them all, he swore. "This is government +property and we, the people, are going to do what we please with +it." + +"That's all very fine, Buck, but don't you think you ought to +be spending your spare hours with your wife, instead of puttering +around here?" + +"Do you know who the boss of this job is? My wife. I'm nothing but +an ordinary day-laborer, a plain Mick, a sort of a Wop, obeying +orders. Good gosh, you don't think I've got brains enough to design +this flower-bed, do you? No, sirree! It takes an artist to think up +a design like this. When I get all these rocks in place according +to plans you'll see what I mean. It'll be a hum-dinger, A. A. This +here thing running off this way is the tail. Come over here and look +at it from this side,--it's upside down from where you're standin'." + +"Tail? Tail of what?" + +"Tail of a horse. This is going to be a horse when it's finished." + +"My God!" + +Buck was not above being irritated by the dismay in Percival's +voice. + +"Minnie's got her heart set on it, A. A.," he explained. "It's +going to be a sorrel horse, you see,--with a blue tail and a red +head. Mustard, hollyhocks and geraniums is what she's going to plant +here when I get the bed fixed. Socrates,--he was the best horse I +ever straddled,--he was a sorrel. I took him down the--" + +"As far as you've got, Buck, it looks more like a dachshund than +a horse," observed Percival. + +Buck eyed his work deprecatingly. "That's because there ain't space +enough. I had to either saw his legs off or else have him layin' +down. Minnie had him kneelin' in her first sketch, but gosh, it was +the funniest thing you ever saw. It ain't possible for a, horse to +kneel with his hind legs, but she had him doin' it all right,--kneeling +forward, at that, with his tail stickin' straight up so's it +wouldn't be in the way of his heels. It's all Jack Wales's fault. +He simply would put that blamed sun-dial of his right in the middle +of this plot,--and these doggoned gravel-walks running every which +way give me the blind-staggers. Why, A. A., you got more gravel +walks here than they've got in Central Park. And all these scrubby +hedges, stone walls, fountains, flower-beds, cedar freaks,--my God, +Perce, I'd hate to come home a little squiffed if I lived in that +house of yours, 'specially at night. Look at old Pedro and Philippa +over there, setting out that stuff that looks like sparrowgrass. +And that prize job of Ed Keller's,--my God, A. A., what good is +a dog kennel on this island? There ain't a dog inside a thousand +miles. The only one we ever had was that poodle old Mrs. Velasco +had, and it died before--" + +"That isn't a kennel, Buck." + +"It ain't? Well, what is it?" + +"It's a Swiss chalet." + +"What does Ed Keller know about Swiss chalets?" + +"Nothing,--absolutely nothing, Buck," admitted Percival forcibly. + +A tall, perfectly straight flagpole graced the extensive "front-yard," +and from its peak floated the flag of Trigger Island,--a great white +pennon with a red heart in the centre, symbolic of love, courage, +fidelity. But on the tip of Split Mountain the Stars and Stripes +still waves from sunrise to sunset. + +The new cabins are farther up the slope of the mountains, overlooking +what is now called the "old" town. There is something fairy-like +in the picture one sees at night from the Green below. Dozens +of lighted windows gleam softly through the foliage, for all the +world like witches' lamps. The day reveals thin, blue plumes of +smoke stealing out of the tops of the trees to be wafted off into +nothingness; they come from invisible chimneys far down in the +leafy fastnesses. Up here are the huts of the newly married. Almost +without exception, they are tiny affairs, scarcely larger than the +metaphorical bandbox. Each contains two rooms. + +During the very hot weather in January and February, the long, +curving beach is alive with oddly dressed bathers and idlers. This +is at midday only, when the sun is so hot and fierce that all work +ceases for two hours or more. Though the sun is hot, the water is +never warm. A dip in the surf is all that any one save the hardiest +cares to take. They loll on the cool white sands, under improvised +shelters made of boughs, or indulge in spirited games on the long +level stretches. This is the play-hour of the people throughout +the hot months of summer. They "knock off" work of all sorts, and +seek relief from the stifling heat of the woodland in the cool wet +sands along the shore. + +The costumes are strange and varied; some are pretty, others almost +ludicrous. Small children appear in a scant breech-cloth; women of +all ages and proportions wear a sort of one-piece "jumper," arms +bare and legs uncovered up to the knees. The men affect nothing +except trunks made from coffee sacks. The few real bathing-suits +belong to such experienced travellers as Nicklestick, Shine and the +Blocks,--regular and persistent patrons of the hotels at Atlantic +City, Palm Beach and Rockaway. They never travel without a full +and complete equipment. Mr. Nicklestick, very superior in his red +two piece "costume," goes so far as to contend that a man never +should be without a bathing-suit, because, says he, "it takes up +no room in your trunk, and if you leave it at home some one else +is sure to stretch it so's you can't use it yourself again." + +Olga Obosky and her three dancing-girls, Careni-Amori, and several +of the Brazilian ladies possess Ostend costumes in which they +disport themselves with complacent disregard for public opinion, +favourable or otherwise. + +"She's got 'em all skinned a mile," was Morris Shine's comment upon +Olga's lithe, graceful figure. "Ain't that so, Abey?" + +The remark was addressed to Abel Landover. + +"Even so," returned that gentleman, glaring at the offender, "it +doesn't give you the right to call me Abey. You've got to cut it +out, Shine. Understand?" + +"Sure," said the affable Morris. "Only I've got a brother named +Abraham, and that was my father's name too. It comes natural to me +to--Why, by gracious, she's got the Venus Belvedere lashed to the +mast. Did you ever see--" + +"I've never had the pleasure of seeing the Venus Belvedere," +interrupted Landover coldly. + +"You haven't?" exclaimed Morris, amazed. "The armless wonder? You +ain't seen her? Why, she's supposed to have the most perfect figger +in the world. Maybe you've seen her without knowing what her name +is. They never put the name on it, simply because every school boy +and girl is supposed to know who it is without being told. Funny +you don't know--Oh, she ain't alive, you know,--she ain't real. +She's a statue,--thousands of 'em turned out every year. Gee, the +feller that designed that statue must have cleaned up a pile. But, +as I was saying, our little old Olga has got her--Say, did you ever +see a figger like that?" + +"Yes," broke in Landover shortly, "thousands of them." + +Mr. Shine looked sceptical. "Well," he said after a moment's +reflection, and with studied politeness,--having already offended +at the outset, "all I got to say is, you talk like a woman, that's +all I got to say." + +Landover was a greatly changed man in these days. There had come +a crisis in the affairs of Trigger Island, not many weeks before +the second annual election in April, when he was obliged to show +his true colours. The banker suddenly realized with a shock that +he was actually involved in a well-organized, though secret plot +to overthrow the so-called "government." He had been completely +deceived by the wily Manuel Crust and several of his equally wily +friends. They professed to be organizing an opposition party to +oust the dictatorial Percival and his clique from office at the +ensuing election,--a feat, they admitted, that could be accomplished +only by the most adroit and covert "educational" campaign, "under +the rose" perforce, but justifiable in the circumstances. They had +led Landover to believe that he was their choice for governor. They +went among the people, insidiously sowing the seeds of discontent, +hinting at the advantages to be obtained by the election of an entirely +new set of officers, mostly from among the people themselves, but +headed by the ablest man on the island,--Abel T. Landover. They +argued that as treasurer and comptroller of currency he had shown +himself to be the only man qualified to direct the affairs of the +people. + +And Landover believed them. Despite his superior intelligence and +his vaunted ability to size up his fellow man, he was as blind +and unsuspecting as a child when it came to penetrating the real +motives of the conspirators. Vain, self-important, possessed of +an abnormal conceit, men of his type go ahead ruthlessly, ignoring +the details, bent only on achieving the ultimate. In Landover's +case, he made the fatal error of underestimating the craftiness of +Manuel Crust; he looked upon him as a blatant, ignorant ruffian of +the stripe best known to him as a "beer saloon politician,"--and +known only by hearsay, at that. He regarded himself as the +master-politician and Crust as a contemptible necessity. + +As a matter of fact, Crust was using him to very materially advance +his own ends. The big Portuguese had a very definite purpose in +mind. He had no more intention of making Landover the chief man of +the island than he had of flying to the moon. He,--Manuel Crust,--was +to have that distinction! He despised Landover and all that he +represented. He hated him because he was rich, educated, favoured +by fortune,--and given to washing himself with unnecessary frequency +and thoroughness. Manuel was foul of body as well as foul at heart. +He bitterly resented the sanitary rules set up and enforced by the +Council because those rules interfered with what he was pleased +to call his personal liberty. Why should he be required to wash +himself if he didn't want to do so? And why should he do a great +many silly things that Dr. Cullen ordered, just because a lot of +aristocrats were in the habit of doing them? + +His hatred of Landover, however, was impersonal. The banker merely +represented a class. On the other hand, he hated Percival as an +individual; he hated him with every drop of blood in his black, +venomous heart. He had a certain grudging regard,--it might even +be called respect,--for the class to which Landover belonged; he +was sometimes conscious of a strange but quite positive sense of +his own inferiority. But he did not for an instant put Percival +in the class with Landover. He looked upon the young American as +being no better than himself, and yet the people from the Doraine had +showered honours upon him, had made him their chief, had suffered +him,--a vagabond without a penny to his name,--to marry the fairest +and rarest woman of them all. What right had this interloper to +everything that was worth having, while he, an honest fellow who +always had paid his way, was denied even the smallest place in +the councils of the land? What right had he, a tramp, to sit upon +a throne? + +Landover was an unwitting, but thoroughly self-satisfied dupe. He +fitted in very nicely with Manuel's plan to gain control of the +island. There were certain people who regarded the great banker as +an apostle, a man to follow, to be imitated,--such men as Block, +Nicklestick and a few others. Was he not one of the great financial +geniuses of the day? Was he not a power, a tremendous power, in the +banking world? Was he not a man who understood how to transform a +dollar into a business block almost over-night? For a time, sentiment +had played tricks with their boasted astuteness. Swept along by +the current, they had failed to appreciate the true conditions. +They began to realize that it had been a mistake to keep such men +as Percival in power; behind the hand they went about convincing +each other that it was high time to rectify the original error. +These, in addition to the ignorant, easily persuaded rabble from +the steerage,--who, by the way, could give ample testimony as to +Percival's ability to "bluff,"--provided Crust with a decidedly +formidable following. The steerage people had but to be reminded +of the time when Percival tricked them so successfully. + +Crust contended that if the American could fool them once, he would +do so again,--in fact, he went so far as to say that he had been +doing it all the time. + +There was nothing open and above board about the methods of Manuel +Crust. He proceeded about the business of fomenting dissatisfaction +and strife with an artfulness surprising in one of his type. At no +time did he openly denounce the "government." He was very careful +about that. A jesting word here, a derisive smile there, a shrug of +the shoulders,--and in good time others less politic than himself +began to do the talking. Others began to complain of the high-handed, +dictatorial manner in which Percival and his friends ruled the +community. + +The secret, stealthy opposition grew apace; it assumed sinister +proportions,--all the more sinister because it was masked by every +outward sign of submission. Crust had won friends right and left +among the very people who would have killed him not so many months +before but for the very man he was planning to destroy. + +Outwardly he had changed,--not subtly, it is true,--from a sullen, +threatening bully into a hearty, smiling, sympathetic comrade who +laid himself out to be obliging. Even Percival was puzzled, if not +deceived, by this surprising transformation. + + + + + + +CHAPTER III + + + + + +It was Olga Obosky who discovered and exposed the plot. A young +Spaniard had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with her. He was a +good-looking, hard-eyed boy from the pampas,--a herder who was on +his way to visit his mother in from Rio. He was a "gun-slinger" +bearing close relationship to the type of cowboy that existed in the +old days of the Far West but who is now extinct save for pictorial +perpetuation on the moving-picture screens. + +Down in his wild young heart smouldered a furious jealousy of +Percival. Crust played upon this jealousy to fine effect. He did +not hesitate to feed the flame with sly speculations, innuendos +and even tales concerning Percival and Olga. + +One day the Spaniard, in the midst of his violent protestations and +pleadings, became reckless with promises to Olga. He swore that if +she would have him he would make her the first lady of the land in +place of the stupid American girl who now held the honour. Then, +having loosed his tongue, he poured out the whole of the ugly scheme +which was to alter every existing condition on the island. The wiping +out of the dictator and his swell-headed gang of "intellectuals"; +the seizure of all firearms, ammunition and stores; the complete +subjugation of the people, even to the point of slavery; the +elevation of Manuel Crust and his followers to a state of absolute +power; the confiscation of all property,--including women! He +naively advised her to jump at the chance offered her,--the chance +to avoid the most unpleasant feature of the new regime. + +"As my woman," he said, "you will be safe. It is understood. It is +all arranged. If you belong to me, nothing can happen to you. We +shall be of the elect. I am to be of the council. I am to be one +of the masters, the--" + +"But," she cried, scarcely able to believe her ears, "how is all +this to be accomplished? How will the few overcome the many? You +say there are scarcely more than a dozen of you, my friend. What +can a dozen men do to--" + +"It will be simple," cried he, his eyes flaming. "How is it that +Percival and his little gang hold all of us in bondage? It is +because they have the guns, the revolvers, the bullets. Well, we +shall have the guns, and everything. When the time comes, when the +people have voted in the election and a new party is in control, +then we will have our chance. We will have the upper hand. To hell +with the people, Olga. They will count for nothing once we have +charge of the guns and stores. This Percival he has ordered the +election. He insists that the people be given a chance to vote once +a year, to elect some one to take his place if they feel like it. +He says it is only fair. Faugh! He laughs in his sleeve. Come! Your +promise! I love you. I must have you for my woman. I cannot live +without you. I will give you power to spit in the face of that woman +down there--that American aristocrat! We will be rich, we will be +happy, we will have everything. Diamonds and pearls and rubies and +all the gold there is on this island. We will be the ones to go +away in the ship, and we will have jewels to shame the richest of +them." + +"We--you and Manuel and the rest--are to go away in the ship?" she +cried, cold to the marrow of her bones. + +"Sure. Why not? Are we not to be the owners of that ship? It is your +chance to go back to the world again,--with me! Oh, and I agree to +this also: If you do not want me any longer after you are in Rio +or Buenos Aires or anywhere out there,--if you would rather be free +again,--I promise to release you. What could be fairer than that? +Nothing! I shall kill myself, of course, when you leave me,--but +still I promise, and I never break a promise. But I shall love you +so much that you will never leave me. You are my queen. Hell, how +I love you--how I love you!" His face darkened, then slowly paled. +He realized that he had gone too far. Leaning close to her, his +frightened eyes not a foot from hers, he said: "You cannot deny me +now. I have told you everything. I do not know why I have told you. +I must be crazy with love of you. Ah,--the look in your beautiful +eyes! God, how it takes the weight off my mind. You will love +me,--you will be mine,--I see it in your eyes. When? When?" + +She affected a bantering smile. She knew how to play with such +fools as he. + +"Do you think I am a fool? How do I know you are not lying to me +about all this? It may be a trick to influence me. No, no! I am +not such a simpleton. You promise me diamonds, and gold, and much +love. You promise to take me away from this dreadful place on +a ship, back to the world I worship. But you may be lying. I must +have something better than your word, my friend." + +"But I am telling you the truth. I swear it!" he cried eagerly. + +"Keep your hands off of me,--do you hear! Don't touch me! Not yet, +not yet. I must have some proof that you can give me all these +things you offer. Will you have Manuel Crust guarantee that--" + +"My God,--Manuel,--he must not know I have spoken to you. He must +never know," he gasped. "Take my word,--believe me, beloved one. +It is the God's truth I tell you. Within the month I will lay +diamonds, pearls,--everything,--at your feet. I--" + +"Leave me now. Come again,--tomorrow. I must think. I must--" + +"But you will love me? You will come to me? You--" + +"You are a very handsome boy," she said softly, "and I should like +to believe you." + +He followed her for a few steps, trouble in his eyes. + +"It is not enough. I must have your promise," he said. + +She looked at him coldly. "You will have it when I am ready to give +it," she said, and his face lightened for a moment, only to darken +again. + +"I will cut your heart out if you breathe a word of this to any +one," he whispered hoarsely. + +"Is that the way for a lover to speak?" she returned. + +"Yes," he said without hesitation. "It is the way,--with me." + +"Come to me tomorrow and tell me exactly what my share of the +treasure is to be,--and then I will let you know whether it is to +be you--or Manuel Crust, my friend. Oh, you see, I am greedy,--and +I can love Manuel quite as easily as I can love--" + +"I will cut his heart out if you--" + +"There--there! It will not be necessary. Come tomorrow." + +That same afternoon she went to Percival with the Spaniard's story. + +"Well, we'll nip that in the bud," said he, setting his jaw. "The +first thing to do is to warn Landover." + +"Warn Landover!" cried the Russian. "He is all mix up in it,--he +is one of ze ringleaders." + +"No, he isn't. He's not that kind of a man. He doesn't know a thing +about all this, I'll stake my life on it." + +"But, Olga," cried Ruth, white-faced and troubled; "Fernandez will +kill you. He will,--Good heaven, girl, did he not swear to cut your +heart out if you--" + +"Poof!" cried the other, snapping her fingers. "He will not do zat, +my dear. I am not afraid. Do you know what happens to informers in +my country? They vanish. No one ever sees them again, and no one +ever asks where they have gone. They are here today--tomorrow they +are not. It is the same the world over." + +"You mean,--Manuel's men will make way with him? How horrible!" + +"Do not waste your sympathy on zat Fernandez. He is no good. You +would see what kind of man he is if this plot should succeed." + +"But you will have to give him your answer tomorrow," cried Ruth. + +Olga shot a keen glance at Percival's face. + +"It is for you to say, Percivail, what my answer shall be," said +she, after, a slight pause. A queer pallor spread over her face. + +"For me to say?" he exclaimed. + +"Are you not the governor? If it suits your plans for me to give +myself to zat man--" + +"My God, Olga! What the devil are you driving at?" + +"--to satisfy him until you are prepared to nip zis revolution in +the bud, as you say,--I shall--" + +"Thunderation!" he gasped. "You mean you would sacrifice yourself--Great +Scot! What do you think I'm expecting to do? Go to sleep for a month +or so? Bless your heart, my dear Olga, if you are even thinking of +getting married to Fernandez, you'll have to be pretty spry about +it. Because I'm going to nip the business in the bud before tomorrow +morning." + +"Zat is what I thought," said she, the colour rushing back to her +face. + +That evening Percival called a meeting of the "cabinet,"--as the +council was now called. They were asked to come to his home, instead +of to the meetinghouse. This, of itself, was surprising. Landover +had never set foot inside the "governor's mansion." While his +attitude toward the "governor's lady" was studiedly courteous, he +made no effort to resume the intimate and friendly relationship +that existed before her marriage to his enemy. Contact with Percival +was unavoidable. They met frequently in "cabinet" conferences, but +avoided each other at all other times. + +He came to this hastily called meeting, however, and Percival +was the only man present who was not dumbfounded. Sheriff Shay, +in summoning the members to this secret meeting, had delivered a +message that Landover could not well afford to ignore. + +Seventeen men were crowded into the little sitting-room of the house. +Each one of them bore a high-sounding title. There were present, +besides Percival, State Treasurer Landover, Chief Justice Malone, +Minister of War Platt, Minister of Marine Mott, Minister of Agriculture +Pedro Drom, State Clerk Flattner, Surgeon General Cullen, Lord High +Sheriff Shay, and the following members of the Executive Council: +Snipe, Block, Jones, Fitts, Knapendyke, Calkins, Ruiz' and Alvara. +Ruiz was a Chilean merchant and Alvara a Brazilian coffee grower. +Calkins was an English cattle buyer. + +Percival, with his customary abruptness, announced that there was +a plot on foot to destroy the present government and turn the island +over to the mercy of a gang of desperadoes headed by Manuel Crust. + +Landover was on his feet in an instant. + +"I am in a position, gentlemen, to declare that there is not a word +of truth in that statement. It is true there is a very definite +movement on foot to organize a new party to contest the election +of many of us who are gathered here tonight. The people want a +change. They are dissatisfied. They have a right to vote as they +please, to choose their own--" + +"We are not here to discuss the election, Mr. Landover," broke in +Percival. "Before we go any farther, however, I wish to state that +if you are chosen Governor of Trigger Island, you will find no one +more willing and ready to serve you than I. But, that is beside the +question. If you will listen to me, I will tell you exactly what it +is that confronts us. The election next month is to be the signal +for all kinds of hell. You may be elected governor, Mr. Landover,--but +you will not be allowed to serve. Now, here is the story that came +to me today,--and I can vouch for it. I am authorized,--in fact I +am commanded to reveal to you the name of my informant. You may be +sure I did my best to prevail upon her to remain unknown, for the +present, at least, but she threatened to go forth and shout her +story from the housetops if I did not do as she wished." + +The conference ended an hour later, and Abel Landover had shown +his true colours at last. He stood up, his face drawn and haggard, +his eyes ablaze, his voice husky, and addressed the group. + +"Gentlemen, I have been wrong. I am grateful to Mr. Percival for +his generosity in warning me of the danger into which I was rushing. +We have not been friends. He could have left me to my fate. I +would not have blamed him. He has played fair,--and I have not. I +ask you all to bear witness to that humiliating admission. I have +argued here tonight against all of you,--when down in my heart +I had the sickening fear that this damnable story is true. I now +believe it to be true. I now see through the whole devilish game. + +"I give you my word of honour as a gentleman and an American, I +did not realize the true conditions until tonight. Perhaps I might +have found out in time to upset their plans,--but that is doubtful. +These men are smart. They are natural born plotters. They are dark +men with dark souls. This fellow Fernandez has fooled me completely. +He is a gay, smiling boy, but now that I have heard Madame Obosky's +account of him, I recall many little traits in his make-up that go +far to substantiate my new opinion of him. I never quite understood +till now why he hated you, Percival. Frankly, I knew that he had +it in his heart to kill you. Crust has told me of his difficulty +in keeping him from running a knife into you. I thought it was all +talk, boyish bravado,--but now I know he meant it." + +He lifted his head and set his jaw. "Gentlemen, I have a shameful +confession to make. Ever since I can remember, my sole thought +has been to rule. I did not know what it was to take orders from +another man until I came to this island. My whole being has been +in revolt. The thought uppermost in my mind for two years has been +to re-establish myself as a dominating force. To that end, I have +played pretty bad politics. I have worked upon the credulity and +cupidity of these men, promising them positions of authority if I +were chosen by vote to govern the affairs of this island. But, I +am sure you all will believe me when I say that it was my purpose +to administer those affairs honestly, fairly and as capably as I +knew how. I was not only deceived by these men, but by myself as +well. I have played, like a blundering fool, into their hands. My +chagrin is beyond words. I can only say to you now that you may +count upon my unfailing support in any action you may decide to +take. My forebears were honest, loyal, law-abiding Americans. I--I +think I may say without fear of contradiction that it is impossible +for me to run otherwise than true to form. + +"I lied, Percival, to Ruth Clinton about the encounter in my stateroom +on the Doraine. Believe me or not as you see fit, but I think that +was the only deliberate lie I have ever told in my life. I have +done a great many high-handed things, I have been inconsiderate +of others, I have crushed opposition in my own way, I have never +allowed myself to acknowledge defeat. My hand has been against you +since the day you appeared on the decks of the Doraine. It was not +in my nature to see good in you. To me, you were a good-for-nothing--Well, +I'm glad to see you smile! That is the devil with you,--your confounded +smile. I ask you to overlook what I have said, and done--and been, +Percival,--and shake hands. You have nothing to apologize for. There +never has been a time in all these months that I have not felt you +to be a real man, an honest one, and a gentleman. I think I know +an honest man when I see one,--indeed, it is my business to read +men,--and I rarely make a mistake." + +As the two men shook hands, Randolph Fitts remarked drily: + +"Seems to me I remember your saying something of the sort the first +day you ever laid eyes on A. A., Abel." + +"The trouble is," put in Soapy Shay sarcastically, "you don't know +a dishonest one when you see him, Bill." + +"Veil, let's get down to business," said Moses Block nervously. +"Ve must go slow and careful-like. If we show our hands too soon, +they will uprise and--veil, I don't know vat!" + +"Mr. Mott, what would you do if you got wind of a plot like this +aboard ship?" inquired Percival, his eyes narrowing. + +"I would have the whole gang in chains before morning. Then I'd give +'em a taste of the 'cat' at daybreak, and before noon I'd have the +ringleaders hanging from a yard-arm," said Andrew Mott, succinctly. + +"Oh, my gracious!" gulped Mr. Block. + +"Now, I'll tell you what would happen up in Copperhead Camp," said +Percival, darkly. "They would get a beautiful cow-hiding and then +sentenced to wear a ball and chain, day and night, for anywhere +from six months to two years,--depending largely on the process of +regeneration. My experience has been that six months is enough." + +"We wouldn't dare do that, A. A.," said Fitts. "You must not forget +public sentiment,--and public pity. I've got a better plan. How +far out is that little island off New Gibraltar, Platt?" + +"A quarter of a mile, I should say." + +"Well, if they're not satisfied with life and conditions here, let's +make 'em a present of a nice little island of their own. That's +what I've always advocated as the proper way to treat anarchists. +Stick 'em away on an island completely surrounded by sharks and +let 'em run it to suit themselves." + +"But there are no sharks in these waters," said Flattner. "They'd +swim over here some night and slit all our throats." + +"Not a chance. They hate water too much to have ever learned how +to swim. Now, here's the scheme. Round up as many of them as we're +dead sure about, row 'em out to the island, dump 'em with enough +food and water to last a week, supply them with tents and beds and +tools, and let 'em build their own penitentiary. They'll have to +do it or freeze next winter. Once a week send food and drink out +to them. The water is a hundred fathoms deep between Trigger Island +and that little green wart out there on the face of the ocean. It +will look like a million miles to them. How does it strike you, +gentlemen?" + +Off the precipitous western extremity of Trigger Island lies a tiny +scrap of tree-covered land. It is perhaps one hundred yards wide +and thrice as long. An exploring party had visited it shortly after +the wreck of the Doraine, but since then no one had set foot upon +its shores. Its steep slopes, densely wooded, viewed from afar, +suggested a mountain top sticking up out of the sea. By boat, +skirting the coast, it was a good ten miles distant from the town. + +Three men were seized that night and put through a rigid examination. +Early the next morning twelve more were taken, Manuel Crust among +them. Half of them, in their terror, "squealed." Crust himself was +one of these. Almost before the people of the town knew what was +afoot, the fifteen had been tried, convicted, and were on their +way to the landing where boats were waiting to take them and their +belongings off into exile. As for the conspirators themselves, the +blow was so swift, so sudden, that they were dazed. It was like a +bolt out of a clear sky. + +Judge Malone sent them to "the Island" for indeterminate periods. +At stated intervals they were to be released, one by one, and +restored to citizenship. The shortest term of exile, however, was +one year. The releases were to be decided by lot, except in the +case of three men: Crust, Fernandez and an Irish sailor named Clark. +They were the ringleaders and they were to remain on "the Island" +until the time came for them to go aboard the relief ship with all +the other citizens of Trigger. At the end of the first year, and +once a month thereafter for twelve months, drawings were to be +held, and the man whose name was drawn would be released. + +"You are prisoners of state," said Judge Malone, in passing sentence. +"The state is obliged to feed you, and clothe you, and sustain you +if you fall ill, no matter how bitterly it goes against the grain. +You will not be obliged to work, or wash, or observe a single law. +You may rob each other to your hearts' content, you may murder +each other with perfect impunity, you may do just as you like. We +started out to conduct the affairs of this island along lines laid +down by the Golden Rule. I have come to the conclusion that the +Golden Rule would be all right if it were not for the human race. +I am beginning to believe that the Rule of Iron is the only one +for the people of this earth to live under,--and that is a pretty +hard thing for an Irishman to say. You men ought to be lined up +against a wall and shot. We do not feel that we have the right to +take your lives. It is not in our hearts to destroy you, as you +would have destroyed us. But you may not dwell among us." + +Fernandez, wild with fury, shrieked vengeance upon the head of Olga +Obosky. Out of his ravings, the unsavoury crew gleaned enough to +convince them that he was responsible for their present unhappy +plight. + +"You will pay for this, you snake!" he yelled, foaming at the mouth +and shaking his fist at her. "I will drink your heart's blood! +Remember what Joe Fernandez says. I will come back here and get +you,--Oh, I will get you,--and when I am through with you your dog +of a lover may have what is left. I will cut you to pieces! I swear +it--I swear it! Hear my oath! You double-crossed me! You squealed +on me! I will come back, and I will drink your heart's blood! I +swear it!" + +He spat in her direction as he was dragged away with the rest of +the gang. Through his glittering, bloodshot eyes he saw the cool, +derisive sneer on her red lips. He had failed, however, to note +the keen, appraising look with which she searched the faces of his +baffled, glowering companions. In that long, tense look she had +seen dawning comprehension change to convic-tion; she had read his +doom, so she could, in perfect security, give him that scoffing, +heartless smile to take with him on the journey from which he was +never to return. + +Fifteen men went out to "the Island" that afternoon. From that day, +the authorities provided weekly rations for that number of men. To +this day they are ignorant of the fact that there are but fourteen +mouths to feed. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + + + +In the cool of a balmy January evening, following what had been the +hottest day the castaways had experienced since coming to Trigger +Island, a group of men and women sat upon the Governor's porch. +There was no moon, but the sky was speckled with millions of stars. + +Olga Obosky, sitting on the squared log that served as a step, leaned +back against the awning post, her legs stretched out in luxurious +abandon. She was fanning herself, and her breath came rapidly, +pantingly. Now and then she patted her moist face with a handkerchief. + +"How warm you are, Olga," said Ruth, who sat beside her. "And you +must be dreadfully tired." + +"I am hot, but I am not tired," replied the other. "I could dance +all night, my dear, without tiring. Did you really like the children, +Ruth?" + +"They were lovely. You have done wonders with them." + +"Regular Isadora Duncan stuff," sighed Peter Snipe, drawing lazily +at his pipe. "Woodland nymphs, phantom pixies floating on the wind, +zephyrs in the guise of fairies, dreams come true,--my dear Olga, +you are a sorceress. You change clods into moonbeams, you turn +human beings into vapours, you cast the mantle of enchantment over +the midsummer night, and we see Oberon, Titania and all the rest +of them disporting on the breeze. And to think that only this +afternoon I saw all of those gawky girls working in the fields, +their legs the colour of tan bark, with sandals that looked like +canal-boats, skirts made of hemp,--just regular kids. And you +transform them tonight into gleaming cloudlets to float upon the +ambient atmosphere--" + +"For heaven's sake, Pete, stop being an author and talk like a +real man," interrupted Fitts. "Can't you say, 'Gee, they was great, +Olger'?" + +It was "Twelfth Night," and Olga's pupils had given a fairy dance +on the Green. To conclude the almost mystic entertainment, the +great Obosky herself had appeared in one of her most marvellous +creations,--the "Dance of the Caliph's Dream,"--the sensational, +never-to-be-forgotten dance that had been the talk of three +continents. There was no spotlight to follow her sinuous, scantily +clad figure as it spun and leaped and glided about the dim, starlit +Green; there was no blare of brass and cymbals, nor the haunting +wail of flageolets,--only the tinkle of mandolins and Spanish +guitars to guide her bewildering feet,--and yet she had never been +so alluring. + +When it was all over,--when the charmed circle of faces had vanished +into the byways of the night,--she came and flung herself down +upon the steps of the Governor's mansion. She had wrapped her warm +body in a sheath of yellow velvet; the tips of her bare feet were +exposed to the grateful night air. Her uplifted eyes shone like the +stars that looked down into them; her lips were parted in a smile; +her flesh quivered with the physical ecstasy that comes only with +supreme lassitude. + +"You never danced so beautifully in your life, Olga," said Careni-Amori. +"And after two years, too. I cannot understand. I shall never sing +again as I sang two years ago. But you,--ah, you dance even better. +I take courage from you. Perhaps my voice has not gone to seed +as Joseppi's has,--poor man. Not that it had very far to go,--but +still it was second only to Caruso's, and that is something. How +can it be that you improve with idleness, while I--while we go the +other way?" + +"I shall never dance like zat again," replied Olga, her eyes +clouding. + +"You speak as if it were your swan dance," cried Michael Malone. + +"Oh, I shall dance for ever," said she, "but never again like zat. +You would ask why not. I cannot tell you. I do not know. Only can +I say I shail never dance like zat again,--never." + +Ruth turned her head quickly to look at the woman beside her. Olga's +face gleamed white in the starlight. Her eyes were still searching +the speckled dome, and the smile had left her lips. + +"Don't say that, Olga," she whispered softly. "You will delight +great audiences again,--you will charm--" + +"Possibly," interrupted the other, lowering her voice, turning +her eyes upon Ruth, and smiling mysteriously. "Great audiences, +yes,--but what are they? I appeared tonight before an audience of +one. I danced as I have never danced before,--all for zat audience +of one. Your husband, my dear. He one time informs me he has never +seen me dance. Well,--tonight I dance for him. Now, he can say he +have seen Obosky dance. He will never forget zat he have seen Obosky +dance." + +Ruth laughed, but it was a strained effort. "He was positively +enchanted, Olga," she said. Then she added: "But for goodness' +sake, don't ever let him know that you did it all for him. He will +be so proud and important that--" + +"Oh, he knows I danced for him," broke in the Russian calmly, in +a most matter-of-fact tone. + +"You--you told him?" + +"I did not have to tell him. He knew, without being told. La la, my +dear! Do not look so shocked. It is a habit I have. Always I dance +for one person in my audience. I pick him out,--sometimes it is a +she,--and zen I try only to please zat one person. I make him to +feel he is the one I am dancing for, zat he is all alone in the +great big hall,--all alone with me. Maybe he is in the gallery, +looking down; maybe he is in a box, or standing up at the back of +the house,--no matter where he is, I pick him out and so I think +of no one else all ze time I dance." + +"And, by the same token, he is powerless to think of any one else. +I see. No wonder you charm them out of their boots." + +"And all the rest of his life he will remember that I danced for +him alone, zat man. As for me,--poof! I would not recognize him +again if he came to see me a thousand nights in succession. Once +I saw a very tiny boy in the stalls. He was with his mother and +father. I danced for zat child of six. When he is a very, very old +man he will look back over the years and see me dancing still,--always +the same whirling, dazzling thing that filled his little eyes and +soul with wonder. So! Percivail has seen me at my best. He will tell +his grandchildren how wonderful Obosky was,--and he will think of +her to his dying day as something beautiful, not something vile." + +"Oh, Olga!" + +"You see, my dear," said the other, composedly, "I wanted to make +a good impression on zat virtuous husband of jours. Now he will +think of me as the artist, not as the woman. It is much better so, +is it not?" + +"Sometimes you say things that cause me to wonder why I don't hate +you, Olga Obosky," cried Ruth under her breath. + +Olga laughed softly. "I repeat zat Golden Rule to myself every night +and every morning, Ruthkin," said she, somewhat cryptically. Then +they were silent. + +Conversation on the porch behind them lagged and finally ceased +altogether. The soft swish of fans was the only sound to disturb +the tranquil stillness. + +"Nineteen-twenty," fell dreamily from the lips of Randolph Fitts's +wife. "I used to think of Nineteen-twenty as being so far in the +future that I would be an old, old woman when I came to it. And +here it is,--I am living in it,--and I am not old." + +"Presidential year," said Michael Malone, as he struck a match to +relight the pipe that had gone out. "Doesn't take them long to slip +around, does it? Seems only last week that I voted for Wilson. I +wonder if he'll be running again." + +"Sure! And if he can keep us in the war as long as he kept us out +of it," said Peter Snipe, "we'll have to elect him again." + +"I'd give a lot to know whether we've got the Germans licked or +not," mused Fitts. "We've had nearly three years to do it in." + +"Depends entirely on the navy," said Platt, Minister of Marine, +late of the U. S. Navy. + +"What can the navy do if the Germans will not come out?" demanded +Landover. + +"Why, confound it all, the navy can go in, can't it?" + +"The British Navy hasn't," was Landover's reply. + +"What's the use of speculating about the war?" said Percival, as +he threw himself on the grass at Ruth's feet. "Either it's over +or it isn't, and here we sit absolutely in the dark. They might +as well be fighting on Mars as over in Europe, so far as we are +concerned. For God's sake, let's not even think about the war. +We'll all go crazy if we do." + +"You're right," said Fitts, gloomily. + +"In any case," said Malone, "Trigger Island has done all that any +self-respecting government can do. She has declared war on Germany. +We have nothing to be ashamed of. Still, I'd feel better if we +could fire a few shots at the dirty blackguards." + +"The war is over," said Olga, staring up at the stars. "The Germans +are beaten. I have said so for many months, have I not?" + +"You have," agreed Malone. "But I don't see that you have anything +on the Kaiser. He said it was over in 1914." + +"'Don't argue with him, Olga," said young Mrs. Malone. "He's Irish." + +"Like all Irishers he's longing for something he'll never get," +said Fitts, drily. + +"And what is that?" inquired Mrs. Malone. + +"Home-rule," said Fitts. + +Olga Obosky yawned luxuriously. "I am so sleepy. My sandals, Governor +Percivail. I am going home." + +He picked up the sandals lying on the grass beside him and held +them out to her. She coolly extended one of her feet. + +"It cannot bite you. Put zem on for me, your Excellency." + +WEST WIND DRIFT + +He knelt and, slipping the sandals on one after the other, fastened +the straps over her bare insteps. + +"So," she sighed. "Thank you. Good night, Ruthkin. No! I shall go +home alone. There is nothing to be afraid of now on zis island, my +dear. The ardent Fernandez is playing--what you call it?--pea-knuckles?--he +is playing pea-knuckles away off yonder on zat prison island, as +he has been playing for nearly a year." + +Little she knew of Fernandez! + +Ruth and Percival walked around the corner of the porch with her, +out of sight of the others. + +"It was a perfectly ravishing dance, Olga," said he. "If I live a +thousand years I shall never forget how beautiful it was." + +"You see?" cried Olga softly, pressing Ruth's hand. "Was I not +right?" + +"Men are very queer things," said Ruth, with a curious sidelong +glance at her husband. Then she squeezed his arm tightly and went +on with a little thrill in her voice: "Good night, Olga. Thank you +for the lesson." + +"What's all this?" inquired Percival. + +"Nothing you would be interested in, my friend," said Olga, with a +little laugh. She waved her hand airily as she moved swiftly away +in the gloom. + +They watched her yellow figure fade into the starlit shadows. As +they turned to rejoin the others, Ruth said: + +"I think you might have told her how beautiful she was, dear." +So much for the native perversity of woman, even when she is most +content. + +He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon the soft, +warm palm. It was a habit of his,--and she never failed to shiver +in response to the exquisite thrill. She drew a deep breath, and +leaned a little closer to him. + +"Look up yonder, sweetheart," he whispered. "Do you see the one +star in all the heavens that shines the brightest? It is the only +one I see when I raise my eyes. The big, full star in the Southern +Cross. The others are dim, feeble little things preening themselves +in reflected glory. That great, beautiful star at the foot of the +Cross is all that I can see. It's no use for me to look elsewhere. +That star fills my vision. Its splendour fascinates me." + +She waited for him to go on. Her eyes were shining. But the analogy +was complete. She laid her cheek against his and sighed tremulously. +After a moment, they turned their heads and their lips met in a +long, passionate kiss. + +"I should be content to stay on this dear little island for ever, +sweetheart," she murmured. "My whole world is here." + +He stroked her hair lovingly, and was silent for a long time. Then +he smiled his whimsical smile. + +"It's all right for you and me, dear,--but how about the future +President of the United States sleeping up there in his crib?" + +She smiled up into his eyes. "It's a nuisance, isn't it?--having +to stop and consider that we are parents as well as lovers." + +They rejoined the group on the porch. + +"I had a horrible dream last night," said Peter Snipe, getting up +and stretching himself. "That's why I'm staying up so late tonight. +I hate to go to bed." + +"What was your dream, Peter?" asked Ruth. + +"Do you believe in 'em?" + +"Only in day-dreams." + +"Well, I dreamed our little old ship was finished and had sailed at +last and for once our wireless plant up there began to get messages +from the sea. I dreamed I was sitting up there with the operator. It +was a dark, stormy night. The wireless began to crackle. He jumped +up to see what was coming. He was getting messages from our own +ship, away out there on the ocean. She was calling for help. 'Sinking +fast,--sinking fast,--sinking fast.' Over and over again,--just +those two words. 'Gad,--it was so real, so terribly real, that +the first thing I did this morning was to walk down to see if the +boat was still on the stocks. She was there, a long way from being +finished, and--and, by gad, I had hard work to keep from blubbering, +I was so relieved." + +"It will take more than a dream to knock that ship to pieces," +said Percival. "When she's ready for the water, there will not be +a sturdier craft afloat. Andrew Mott says she'll weather anything +outside of the China Sea. Don't look so distressed, Amy. Pete's a +novelist. They never do anything but dream horrible dreams. Generally +they go so far as to put them into print, and people read 'em and +say they are wildly improbable,--especially if they have a happy +ending. It's always the happy ending that makes them improbable,--but +popular. Isn't that so, Pete?" + +"If we didn't give them a happy ending, they would refuse to +recognize us the next time they saw us on a bookseller's counter," +said Peter. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way. I've got a busy day +tomorrow, setting up the Trigger Island Pioneer,--and as I belong +to that almost extinct species known as the bachelor, I am forced +to be my own alarm clock. Going my way, Abel?" + +"Good night, Ruth," said Landover. "Give the Lieutenant Governor +a good smack for me,--and tell him he is still in my will." + +"Umph!" grunted Fitts. "I'd like to know what you've got to leave +the little beggar. Your letter of credit?" + +"Certainly not," replied Landover. "Something worth while, Fittsy, +my boy. I am making it now. It's going to be a hobby-horse, if I +live long enough to finish it. Good night, Perce. 'Night, everybody." + +When the last of the company had departed, Ruth and Percival stood +for a long time in silence, listening to the far-off thrumming of +a Spanish guitar, their tranquil gaze fixed on the murky shadow +that marked the line of trees along the shore, her head resting +lightly against his shoulder, his arm about her waist. + +"What are you thinking of, dear?" she asked at last. + +"Peter's dream," he replied. "It has put an idea into my head. +The day that ship down there sails out to sea with her courageous +little crew, I shall start laying the keel for another just like +her." + +Neither spoke for many seconds. Then she said, a deep, solemn note +in her voice: "I understand, Perce." + +They went into the house. Later they stole tiptoe to the side of +the crib where slept the sturdy, sun-kissed babe. The two middle +fingers of a chubby hand were in his mouth. With one hand Percival +shaded the pitch candle he had brought from the kitchen. She leaned +over and gently touched the smooth, warm cheek. + +"I--I can't believe he is real, Perce," she whispered. + +"He isn't," whispered he. "He is something out of a fairy story. +Nothing as wonderful as he is can possibly be real." + +THE END + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, WEST WIND DRIFT *** + +This file should be named ddrft10.txt or ddrft10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ddrft11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ddrft10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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