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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..61fae78 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67311 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67311) diff --git a/old/67311-0.txt b/old/67311-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5a3299f..0000000 --- a/old/67311-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5395 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cruise of the Pelican, by Henry -Bedford-Jones - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Cruise of the Pelican - -Author: Henry Bedford-Jones - -Release Date: February 3, 2022 [eBook #67311] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE -PELICAN *** - - - - - - - - _The Cruise of the Pelican_ - - _By H. BEDFORD-JONES_ - - - _Author of - "The Kasbah Gate," "Splendour of the Gods," etc._ - - - _London: HURST & BLACKETT, LTD., - PATERNOSTER HOUSE, E.C._ - - _1924_ - - - - - Contents - - Chapter - - I. Boatswain Joe - II. News from Nowhere - III. Laying a Course - IV. The Square Suitcase - V. The "Pelican" - VI. Outward Bound - VII. Jerry Tells Something - VIII. Miles Hathaway Talks - IX. Unalaska Bay - X. The Wreck - XI. The Enemy Comes - XII. In the Depths - XIII. Pontifex Plans Revenge - XIV. They that Take the Sword-- - - THE CONCLUSION Outward Bound - - - - -The Cruise of the "_Pelican_" - - - -CHAPTER I - -BOATSWAIN JOE - -Tom Dennis sat on a printer's stool beside a very dirty window which -dimly illumined his figure, and stared at the gloom surrounding him. -His rawboned face was dejected; his angular body slumped -despondently. In his hand was a little sheaf of papers. - -It was five-thirty in the afternoon. Long since, the grist of -evening papers had gone through the big press; the rollers had been -washed and retired; the men had gone home. It was Saturday night, -and the week's work was done. So was _The Marshville Clarion_, as -Tom Dennis cheerlessly admitted to himself. - -The high-school lad who assisted Dennis in gathering local items and -filling the columns of _The Clarion_ had not returned as usual from -the Saturday baseball game to write up his notes from a fresh memory. -Dennis had instructed him not to return until Monday--and not to -return then unless sent for. - -Silence and the darkness of departing day lay funereally upon the big -back room. Presses and stones and type-racks filled the floor. -Always dingy and dark, this room now seemed to feel the approach of -dissolution. The smell of printing-ink hung upon the air like -incense strewn by dead hands. _The Clarion_ had issued its own -obituary. - -Tom Dennis suddenly moved. To the dim light of the unwashed window -he held the papers in his hand. They were bills. Each of them was -stamped "Paid". As he looked at them, Tom Dennis uttered a mirthless -bitter laugh. - -"Paid!" he said, his voice ringing hollowly in the emptiness of the -big back room. "Paid, by heavens--and not a cent to spare! And the -bank holds a mortgage on this plant! I can sell the typewriters for -fifty dollars; I'll have to do it to get out of town!" - -The outer door, the door of the front office, banged, and there was a -heavy tread that ceased abruptly. Tom Dennis paid no heed to it; he -sensed that someone had entered, but it was of no concern to him what -passed in the outer office. - -"Done!" he said morosely. "I'm done! It's been the dickens of a -pull, this year has--and now I'm done." - -He was right: he was done, and he knew it. - - -Every newspaper man dreams of running, some day, a paper all his own, -dreams of taking over some "small-town" paper, dreams of running it -his own way and indulging his own ideas of how a paper should be run, -dreams of wealth and fame in consequence. Once in a thousand cases, -perhaps, the dream comes true. - -Tom Dennis was at the end of his own particular dream. A college -man, a star reporter on a Chicago daily, he had saved his money, and, -at twenty-three, had become the owner of _The Clarion_ in the sleepy -little town of Marshville. - -A meteoric year had ensued. Tom Dennis had gone to work to wake up -Marshville--and he had succeeded. He had wakened Marshville to a -lively animosity, a deadly resentment that a stranger should come in -here and give advice. Marshville knew that it was a sleepy, dying, -vicious, ingrowing little town--and Marshville wanted to be just that -kind of town! So, when Tom Dennis tried to root out the viciousness -and decay, Marshville was angered. - -Six months passed, and the last of Tom Dennis' money was gone. He -mortgaged the whole property, lock, stock, and barrel, and went on -fighting. He had gleams of success, and the letters of Florence -Hathaway had inspired him to renewed efforts, but now the end had -come. He must either borrow on his personal credit, which was not -extensive enough to carry him very long, or else go under. - - "A smart Yankee packet lay out in the bay, - To me way hay, o-_hi_-o! - A-waiting for a fair wind to get under way, - A long time ago!" - - -The voice--a musing rumbling voice--came from the outer office, and -it was a voice strange to Tom Dennis. But he scarce heard the words, -or the swinging air. His hand had clenched upon the sheaf of papers, -and his head had lowered. Chin to breast, he was in the agony of -defeat; despite himself, despite his rugged features, slow tears were -groping on his cheeks. - -Those tears were not for himself, not for the fact of his failure -here. A year ago Tom Dennis would have taken his defeat with a laugh -and a joke, and he had not changed. It was not self-misery which -drew those man's tears to his cheeks. - -He was thinking of Florence Hathaway. He had found her here in the -_Clarion_ office a year ago, a society reporter; she was then -supporting her slowly-dying mother. Two years previously her father, -Captain Miles Hathaway, had been lost at sea somewhere in the -Pacific; the girl had brought her mother back to Marshville, the -mother's old home town, and there the mother had died. This had been -three months after the coming of Tom Dennis. - -For another three months, Florence Hathaway had stayed on with the -_Clarion_--largely for love of Tom Dennis. Then had come the offer -of a teacher's position in a private school in Chicago, and she had -accepted the offer. - -Not that Dennis wanted her to accept--far from it! They had argued -it all out that night, under the willow trees by the river. Her hand -in his, the girl had made Tom Dennis face a few hard facts. She was -the rare kind who can make a man realize things. - -"Tom, dear," she had said gently, "another year will see you firmly -established here in Marshville. Until then we can't dare marry; it -isn't fair to you! Get clear of financial worries first. Not that I -care about the money, Tom, but I do care so much about you; and now -you're talking about mortgaging the paper, and it's bearing you down." - -"And if I fail?" - -"Then come to me in Chicago, and we'll start fresh--together." - -"But why go there? Stay here where you can help me most! It's your -society stuff that does most good----" - -"No, dear, Marshville hates you; you must conquer or be conquered, -and you don't know how terribly bitter Marshville can be. It's like -any small town, Tom. They're all against you now, and if I stay on -the paper, they'll be talking--about us. Besides, I don't like the -place. I want to be in Chicago a little while, mistress of myself, -enjoying a little bit of real life and real things. I'll come back -to you here, or you'll come to me there, Tom, and----" - - -Now, as he sat in the dingy back room, Tom Dennis thought over these -things, and his pride revolted within him. He could not go back to -his old job, admitting that he had made a failure of his paper, -admitting that he was good for nothing better than a reporter's job. -He could not go to Florence Hathaway--a failure! He had tasted of -freedom, and now it seemed to him that a reporter's was a dog's life. -He would not go back to it. He would not ask her to face it all, -even though she might be willing-- - - "We didn't get a drink for seventeen days, - To me way hay, o-_hi_-o! - And nobody cared if she hung in stays, - A _long_ time ago!" - - -Dimly the words penetrated the consciousness of Tom Dennis, roused -him slightly. Who was in the outer office? Well, no matter. The -bank owned it now--tight-lipped old banker Dribble up the street, who -owned everything. - -"It wasn't a fair fight, maybe," muttered Tom Dennis, sudden storm in -his eyes. "They lied to me right and left. The advertising -contracts were faked on me. They tried to stab me in the back -whenever they had a chance--and they did it, too! But there's no use -sobbing over all that." - -He would have to leave town, of course--the sooner the better. He -might as well take the evening train to Chicago and make his plans to -start afresh. There was nothing to hold him here; everything was -paid, even to the interest on the mortgage. The mortgage still had -six months to run. - -"Why not?" Dennis suddenly came to his feet. "I can shut up this -coop, and they can't touch it for six months! The property may -deteriorate, of course; mice will eat the rollers, and the ink will -dry up, and the presses won't be oiled--but that's old Dribble's -lookout, not mine! I still have six months left! A stroke of -luck----" - -"Ahoy, matey!" billowed a voice. "Ahoy, Dennis! Where are you, -skipper?" - -A monstrous voice was that, a roaring thunderous voice that filled -the dingy old back room with rolling waves of sound. Startled, Tom -Dennis reached to the nearest electric bulb, switched it on, and -directed the light toward the door of the outer office. - -There, standing in the doorway, he saw a surprising figure. The -stranger was two inches taller than Dennis, who himself stood six -feet one. Not particularly well dressed was the intruder--rough blue -serge, manifestly hand-me-downs, and a white soft shirt with -loosely-knotted cravat. But the face--the face was the thing! - -A peculiar face it was, for in it was emphasized the trait common to -most men. Its left side was regular enough. The right brow, -however, was uptwisted satanically; the right side of the mouth was -down-twisted in a leer. Seldom had Tom Dennis seen this -dissimilarity between the two sides of a man's face so pronounced. -Aside from this, it was a massive strong face, lighted by two very -direct, piercing, predatory eyes of light-blue, and crowned by -flaming red hair. - -"Ha!" said the stranger, coming forward. "You're Dennis?" - -"You're right." And a sour smile twisted the lips of the newspaper -man. "My name is Dennis, right enough. You've got another bill to -present?" - -The other halted, and stared at him. - -"Bill?" he repeated. "Bill? Paying your bills, are you?" - -Dennis laughed shortly. "You bet. I'm clearing out of here -to-night. Well, how much is it? Guess I can scrape up enough to pay -it; if not, there's a typewriter out in front you can take along. -Thought I'd cleared 'em all off, though----" - -The stranger threw back his head and laughed. That laugh was a -roaring billow of sound, as though the red-head were accustomed to -fling his laughter into the teeth of a singing gale. - -"Ho-ho!" he cried boisterously. "Slipping your cable, hey? Gone -under, hey? Another poor swab who can't beat the shyster law-clerks -and has gone under! Well, do what I did, matey. I was in the same -boat myself, oncet--and I run off to sea! Strike me blind if it -wasn't the makin' of me! Now, if you'll take my advice and do the -same thing----" - -"What do you want?" snapped Dennis suddenly. "I'm not asking for -your advice, my friend. Have you business with me?" - -"Aye." The other came forward, hand extended. His voice was -conciliating. "Come, no harm done by a bit o' fun, matey! None -intended, none took. My name's Ericksen; they calls me Boatswain -Joe, mostly, though I've got a quartermaster's ticket in me oilskin. -I want a bit o' talk, if you have the time." - -"I'm rich in time," responded Dennis. "Take a seat." - - -As they shook hands, Dennis felt the palm of Ericksen to be horny, -rough with great calluses; but the thumb lay over the back of his own -fingers with smooth pressure. A sailor, then, and one used to -handling lines! That explained the odd snatches of lingo. But what -was a sailor doing here, in the middle of the United States? - -Ericksen eased himself up on a high stool, stuffed loose tobacco from -his pocket into a pipe-bowl and struck a match. His piercing, -arrogant, light-blue eyes surveyed Tom Dennis with a comprehensive -scrutiny. - -"I hear," he said abruptly, a cloud of smoke issuing from his lips, -"I hear you and Miss Hathaway are engaged to be married." - -His voice was still conciliatory, rather bearing an air of a forced -whine, and it was entirely belied by those fierce predatory eyes. -Tom Dennis flushed angrily. - -"What are you driving at?" he demanded. "What have my private -affairs to do with you?" - -"Don't flare up, matey," responded the other. "I'm comin' to the -p'int, steerin' a safe course meantime. 'Keep an eye on your charts, -boatswain,' says the skipper, 'and look out for shoals among them -land-sharks.' So I'm doin' it. Of course, knowing the inside of the -country pretty well, comin' from Wisconsin way like I do, I'm able to -navigate better'n the others would be; but just the same, I'm mindin' -my wheel mighty close. 'No steerin' by the wind this cruise,' says -the skipper, and right he was." - -This was all Greek to Tom Dennis. - -"Well, what do you want with me?" he reiterated. - -"You answer my question, matey," returned the other calmly. - -"None of your business, then," snapped Dennis. - -To his surprise, Ericksen only chuckled good-humouredly, and slapped -his knee as though at a good joke. - -"I knowed it! You are, right enough. Goin' to Chicago to get -spliced, maybe?" - -The hand of Dennis closed on a printer's key, but Ericksen interposed. - -"Here, don't start no rumpus, matey! You see, I got to know the -chart before I can lay my course. Ain't that reasonable? I got to -this here town this afternoon, lookin' for Miss Hathaway, and first -one, then another, tells me she's gone to Chicago, but they don't -know exactly where. They said to come here an' find you, you bein' -supposed to know for private reasons. Ain't that statin' it plain -and unoffensive? That's me every time. 'Mind your jaw-tackle, -boatswain,' says the skipper. 'Be mild an' gentle.' And I am." - -The sailor grinned. So cheerful and white-toothed was that grin, -that Tom Dennis felt impelled to laugh, but the arrogant, light-blue -eyes steadied him. - -"You want Miss Hathaway's address--is that it?" - -"Part of it, matey," responded Ericksen. "Only part of it!" - - - - -CHAPTER II - -NEWS FROM NOWHERE - -Florence Hathaway was extremely astonished when, upon Sunday morning, -she heard the voice of Tom Dennis on the telephone, and received a -request to join him down-town for noon dinner. - -"Come up to the school, Tom!" she returned. "You can dine in hall as -my guest. And what brought you to town?" - -"Can't talk now, Florence. And I'll have to refuse your -invitation--because we'll all three have to dine down-town. Better -make it the 'Royton'; then we can have comparative privacy." - -"All three?" she echoed. "Who's with you?" - -"A man who has news of your father, dear. He's to join us at the -'Royton' at one sharp, but I want to see you for a few moments first. -Why not meet me at the Art Institute about twelve-thirty? I'll be in -the Japanese Room. Believe me, it's important!" - -"News of--father? Why, yes! I'll be there on time, Tom. Japanese -Room!" - -So, at the hour when the galleries were totally deserted, Tom Dennis -was striding up and down in the Japanese Room, past the cases filled -with lacquer ware. In his present mood of frowning meditation, his -features looked almost forbidding; they were strong features, rugged -with an uncompromising virility. Looking at them, one could -understand how this man, unaided, had first worked his way through -college and had later gone to the top of an overcrowded profession. - -On time almost to the minute, Florence Hathaway appeared. Dennis met -her at the door, his hand to hers; a swift glance around, and he bent -his lips to hers. - -"This way, dear!" he said, turning. "There'll be no interruptions -then." - -Together they made their way outside to one of the little balconies -overlooking the smoky park and lake front. Brushing off two of the -chairs, Tom Dennis set them by the stone rail. - -"What on earth is it all about, Tom?" asked the girl wonderingly. - -"Me, first--then you," smiling he filled his pipe and lighted it. -Then he set about his tale, beginning with his own situation of the -previous afternoon, and passing on to the coming of Boatswain Joe. -He described his own hopeless case very bluntly and frankly. - - -Florence Hathaway did not interrupt him, but sat in silence, her eyes -fastened upon his rugged face, reading there the signs of his past -worries and failure. They were fine eyes, those that dwelt upon him -with love and tenderness. An artist might have said that they were -too large for her face, that their glowing brown depths held too -passionate a fervor, too calmly poised a radiance, to match her -almost colourless cheeks. By no rule could Florence Hathaway be -adjudged beautiful; and yet Marshville had missed her more than all -its other absent daughters put together. - -In her eyes, indeed, lay the brave and tender soul of Florence -Hathaway. Frail seemed her slender, almost girlish body; yet one who -gazed into her level eyes knew that hers was an indomitable spirit--a -heritage perhaps, from that lost father whose iron soul had battled -the men and winds and seas of half the world. - -"Then you've left Marshville for good?" she asked quietly when Dennis -paused. - -"Yes." He nodded curtly. "The place will be shut for six months. -If I've not returned by that time, if I've not struck some lucky -vein, old Dribble can foreclose his mortgage and be blessed! Of -course, I'm not gambling on striking it rich in a hurry; it's just a -long chance that still remains. Well, now that's settled, let's get -on about your friend Ericksen. You never heard of anyone by that -name?" - -"No. He may have known my father----" - -"I'm coming to that. Ericksen had come from the Pacific Coast to -find you--in person; mark that down as Point One, upper case! Why in -person, when a letter or telegram would have fetched you? Point -One--Query! I don't like that fellow's looks. - -"Point Two: he tells a very fishy sort of tale--namely, that your -father was not lost at sea at all, but was rescued----" - -"What?" broke in the girl, leaning forward. Again Dennis nodded, -imperturbable. - -"Yes, if you care to believe it. I don't! He says that your father -was taken into Unalaska by some natives who had found him on one of -the Aleut islands--he was then down with something like what used to -be called 'brain fever'. It left him quite paralysed. He was taken -to Vancouver and is now in a sailors' home there. Being paralysed, -barely able to keep alive, he has been unable to tell his name--mind -you, this is all Boatswain Joe's narrative. - -"Ericksen, or some of his friends, saw your father there and -recognized him, and promptly took him in charge. Do you get that, -Florence? They have him in a house in Vancouver now, taking care of -him. Point Two! They are not philanthropists; why did they do this? -Why did they not communicate with the authorities? Why do they send -Boatswain Joe to get you?" - -"To get--me?" The girl's brown eyes shone eagerly. - -"Yes. Ericksen wants you to go and see your father, wants you to try -to communicate with him. Why? I don't know. Probably your father -knows something that Ericksen or his friends want to know. Well, I -suppose you'd go quick enough, if you believed the story?" - -"Go?" she flashed. "Of course! To-day--now!" - -"Ericksen seemed to think you might not," said Dennis dryly. "He -offered me a thousand dollars to persuade you to go. I refused to -give him your address; we came to Chicago together last night, and I -told him you'd meet us for dinner. That's all. Point Three, why did -he offer me that money?" - -He was silent for a minute, then knocked out his pipe and swung -around to face her. - -"Look squarely at it, Florence: there's something mighty queer in the -wind! Point one: why did Boatswain Joe come in person to get you? -Point two: why are his friends taking care of your father? Point -three: why do they try to bribe me to persuade you to go? I don't -like it." - -She gazed at him silently, frowningly. - -"I can't answer any of those questions," she said at last, slowly. -"But if my father is alive, and in that condition--my place is with -him! Let's leave it until we see this man. He will perhaps have -some proofs to offer me. He would have no incentive to tell such a -story if it were not true.... About yourself, Tom: what do you -intend to do now?" - -He laughed shortly. "I've scarcely thought about it, Florence; this -other thing has been on my mind all night. But I know this: I'll not -let you go West in company with that sailor! That's dead sure. If -his story is really true, then I'm going along, somehow!" - -He glanced at his watch, and rose. "Time! Say nothing definite to -Ericksen. Listen to him and form your own conclusions. Make an -appointment with him for to-morrow to give him your answer; better -make it for the 'Royton' again. Make him agree to pay our expenses -West." - -"You know I'll not take his money, Tom--on such an errand." - -"I will, though." And Dennis laughed. "I'm down to thirty-four -dollars! Besides, I want to see just how readily he'll agree to -shell out real money. There's something queer about that crowd's -being willing to pay so high to get you to Vancouver!" - -"All sailors are generous," said the girl softly. "Perhaps some -friends of father's are behind it." - -"They didn't telegraph you, did they? Well, we shall see. -Anyway--draw him out!" - -In silence they regained the corridors, descended the wide staircase, -and sought the street. Presently they entered a deserted lobby and -gained the elevator running to the restaurant above. - -When they stepped out of the car, they found Boatswain Joe awaiting -them, manifestly ill at ease, and obviously an object of some -suspicion on the part of the restaurant people. Dennis, knowing the -head waiter of old, gained a quiet table in a corner and ordered -dinner. - -He was covertly watching Florence, to see how she took to the seaman; -but she was plainly doing her best to put Ericksen at his ease. Amid -these surroundings, he was anything but comfortable. The linen and -silver, the table appointments, the orchestra, the general -surroundings--all abashed and discomfited him. Tom Dennis grinned to -himself, for this was precisely what he had aimed at. - - -But Boatswain Joe was there for a purpose and lost no time getting -about it. Florence Hathaway, too, was wildly eager to authenticate -the news of her father, and urged him to tell his story at once. So -Ericksen, by the time the soup arrived, was into it full swing and -was forgetting his own awkwardness and the girl's presence; -bashfulness left him, and he told the story more in detail than he -had to Dennis--perhaps under the spell of those glowing brown eyes. - -And Dennis, studying the man, realized that Ericksen was no fool. He -had guessed as much from the twisted lines of the face. Now, the -more he listened, the more Dennis felt that Boatswain Joe had been -well chosen for his present errand. The man presented the story of -Captain Hathaway with a simplicity which carried conviction. - -"So, ma'am, the skipper and the missus are takin' care of him," he -concluded. "The skipper says to me: 'If the lady wants proof, -boatswain, you give it to her!' So, ma'am, I got some pictures took -showin' all of us." - -Ericksen took an envelope from his pocket and passed it to the girl. -She drew forth some photographs--and her face went white. - -"Look here, Ericksen!" Dennis leaned forward, his eyes gripping the -gaze of the sailor. "There are some things we don't understand. Why -did you come in person to find Miss Hathaway? Who's your skipper, -and why is he taking care of Captain Hathaway? Why are you spending -so much money on the project?" - -The arrogant, light-blue eyes flashed suddenly--a flash of suspicion, -of anger. - -"Sailormen don't count pennies," said the man curtly. "Besides, the -skipper--Cap'n Pontifex--he used to know Cap'n Hathaway. Friends, -they were." - -"And he expects to get some information through Miss Hathaway?" - -Ericksen's freckled features reddened. His one satanic eyebrow -twitched upward. - -"Aye, that's true enough; but what it is, ain't for me to say. 'You -mind your jaw-tackle, boatswain,' says the skipper. That's all." - -"Mr. Dennis will go West with us," said Florence Hathaway softly, -extending the pictures to Dennis. "You will furnish expenses, Mr. -Ericksen?" - -"Aye, miss." In the light-blue eyes Dennis read a sudden avid gleam. -They were very dangerous, those eyes, very predatory and -unscrupulous. "Aye, miss--here an' now." - - -The seaman drew from his pocket a small roll of bills and counted off -three fifties which he extended to Dennis. The latter took them. -The eyes of the two men met and held; and again Dennis felt that -sense of enmity, of forced geniality, as though the man were -concealing a deadly hostility beneath a show of eager conciliation. -First Boatswain Joe had desired to propitiate him; now he desired to -propitiate Florence Hathaway. - -Dennis shoved the money into his pocket, despite a glance of entreaty -from the girl. - -The photographs numbered four; in each was shown a figure in a -wheel-chair--and the figure was that of Captain Hathaway. Dennis had -seen other and older pictures of Florence Hathaway's father, and he -recognized at once that massive countenance, that giant frame, those -wide and unafraid eyes. He looked less at this figure, however, than -at those others showing in the pictures. - -One was Captain Pontifex--a man tall and thin, face cavernous and -pallid, with deep-sunk eyes and a curled black moustache. Another -was that of Mrs. Pontifex--"the Missus", as Boatswain Joe termed her; -her face was indistinct, although her figure seemed very large. In -two of the pictures Ericksen himself showed. The only other figure -was that of a black man, quite indistinct, whom Ericksen described as -the skipper's mate, Manuel Mendez, a "black Portuguese" from the Cape -Verde Islands. Tom Dennis returned the envelope to Ericksen. - -"I don't want your thousand dollars," he said quietly. "I've told -Miss Hathaway all you said to me, and your offer of a bribe; it is -not necessary." - -Ericksen was quite unperturbed. - -"Then, miss, I take it that you'll go?" - -Florence smiled at him; and when she smiled, her frail features were -suddenly lighted as by warm sunshine. - -"Meet us here for luncheon to-morrow, Mr. Ericksen, and I'll give you -my decision." - -"Yes, ma'am--and if I may say so, there's a bit o' haste." - -"Certainly. If we go, we'll be ready to catch the limited at eight -to-morrow night." - -"Couldn't ask no better, miss!" exclaimed the sailor. "Shipshape -talk; that's what it is. 'If we go,' says you, 'we'll go on the -jump'--just like that! Aye, all Bristol-fashion and trim! I'm proud -to ha' met you, Miss Hathaway, and I hope you'll be able to get a few -words out o' your poor father." - -Ericksen checked himself abruptly, as though he had said too much. -But he did not ask any questions concerning the money he had given -Dennis; and this, to the mind of Dennis was an unnatural and puzzling -fact, for Ericksen would hardly have handed over the money unless he -were certain of Florence Hathaway's decision. The entire attitude of -this seaman was puzzling in the extreme. His money carelessness -might be explained by the fact that Captain Pontifex was backing -him--but it looked queer. - - -Something of these thoughts was troubling Tom Dennis as he left the -building with Florence Hathaway; they had parted with Ericksen in the -restaurant lobby, seemingly to the entire satisfaction of the seaman. -Dennis had already phoned for a taxicab, and as they went bowling up -toward the North Shore, the girl noticed his silence. - -"Well, Tom? A penny for your thoughts!" - -"I was wondering what Ericksen's game can be--and who that Cap'n -Pontifex is!" - -"I never heard of him. Certainly father never mentioned him. Well, -you're going to keep that money?" - -"Yes. It's fair loot from the enemy." - -"Enemy? But, Tom--surely you don't think Ericksen and his -friends----" - -"I'm convinced that there's something back of it all, Florence, -something we don't know about! And that it's nothing very good." - -The girl laughed. "Oh, Tom, you're delicious! Well, suit yourself; -we'll go West to-morrow night--that is, I'm going. You can only go -on one condition." - -"Yes?" He looked at her, suspicious of the twinkle in her eyes. -"What is it?" - -"Tell you in a minute, dear. Now, it's true that you've failed in -Marshville?" - -"Absolutely and utterly." - -"And you don't know what you're going to do?" - -"No." - -"It would be very foolish for us to marry, wouldn't it--especially -with poor father to be taken care of? I have eight hundred dollars -in the bank--a little surprise for you dear; but we shall probably -have to stay West and get a fresh start. And, Tom, it'll take a long -time before we get on our feet, won't it?" - -He stared gloomily at the taxicab window, bitterly conscious that she -spoke the truth. - -"Of course," he assented. "I had no intention of coming to you, a -failure, and holding you to your promise, Florence." His voice was -harsh. "I doubt if I would have come, only that this other affair -brought me. You're quite right. It would be criminal for us to -marry, with only a few dollars in the world, and your helpless -father----" - -"Hush!" Her hand fluttered over his lips, and he promptly kissed it. -"Don't say that it would be criminal, Tom; it would only be foolish." - -"What's the condition?" he insisted. - -"I'm coming to that. You admit, then, that in our present -circumstances we should play the safe game, wait until we get -established in the West, and until we get on our feet financially?" - -"We ought to, of course," he nodded, storm in his eyes. "It would be -folly to face poverty, to assume everything----" - -"Isn't it very foolish to be in love at all, Tom, dear?" - -"Not with you! That's something nobody could help." - -"Then this is my condition; and if you refuse, you can't go West! -To-morrow morning we shall be married. We shall deliberately be -foolish--assume our burdens, have each other and make the best of -things! Oh, don't stare at me. Don't you think my love and -confidence and faith in you are supreme, dear? They are. We'll only -win by daring--so we shall dare everything! And with each other, -Tom--we shall win!" - - - - -CHAPTER III - -LAYING A COURSE - -When the dinner was over, Boatswain Joe was in no haste to leave the -restaurant; but he returned to the table and ordered a drink, having -seen Dennis and Florence Hathaway depart. As he had already paid for -the meal, giving the waiter a handsome _pourboire_, no objection was -made to his remaining as long as he wished. He stated that he -expected a telephone-call. - -Nearly an hour later, indeed, the waiter summoned him to the lobby. -Ericksen took up the telephone-receiver and said: "Aye, matey!" Then -he listened. Again he said: "Aye, matey!" and hung up the receiver. - -He took the elevator to the street and briskly walked the two and a -half blocks to a down-town hotel. It appeared that he was stopping -here, for he went directly to the desk, demanded his key, then -vanished in the elevator. - -Fifteen minutes later a man inquired at the desk for Mr. Ericksen, -and was shown to the room occupied by Boatswain Joe. This second man -was as peculiar in appearance as the red-haired boatswain. He was -rather small, very dapper in looks, and wore a tight little moustache -on his upper lip. His movements were swift, agile, extremely alert. -One would have said that he was a Frenchman, although upon entering -Ericksen's room he spoke in good English. - -"Ah, Boatswain! Well done, my friend; you described them -excellently." - -Ericksen regarded him with a twisted smile. - -"Then you followed them?" - -"Certainly. They went to a place on the North Side, a girls' school -where she teaches; presently he came out and walked to a -lodging-house on North Clark Street. I followed him inside and -engaged a room adjoining his, which I shall occupy this afternoon. -He is on the third _étage_--what you call--yes, flight! Upstairs." - -"Good, Dumont." Ericksen ran his fingers through his tousled red -hair. "We've made quick work of it, eh? Got here two days ago, and -ready to slip our cable to-morrow night. 'Move sharp,,' says the -Skipper; 'crack on all sail!' And we've done it. Hey? You've got -your stuff all complete?" - -Dumont lighted a cigarette and blew a thin cloud, nodding. - -"All done. Everything is to be ready for me to-morrow morning. I -shall inspect it; then it will be packed in a special suitcase, ready -for the shipment." - -"Good. We're leaving to-morrow night at eight bells or thereabouts. -Get your ticket in the morning, and check the stuff on it. Sure it's -what the Skipper ordered?" - -Dumont inspected him with a sleepy cattish smile. - -"Me, my friend, I make no mistakes. Ah, that skipper of ours! He is -a marvel, a great man! It is not every man who can improve upon the -so-wonderful Dumas! But this our skipper, he does so--pouf! Like -that. To him--it is nothing at all." - -"I dunno about that there Dumaw," returned Ericksen. "I used to know -a guy o' that name, a nigger mate on the _Columbia_ packet out o' -Singapore----" - -Dumont chuckled. "Worry not your so red head, my friend! Now, -suppose you have the goodness to explain? Who is this man with the -big body and the dangerous eyes?" - -"Dangerous, rats!" Ericksen snorted. "On his uppers, he is. Ran -foul o' law-sharks an' got laid on his beam-ends. He's suspicious; -that's all. He and the lady are goin' to get spliced, see? Or they -think they are. His name's Dennis. He means to go West with us." - - -The sleepy eyes of Dumont suddenly opened. They became very black -and flashing. His white teeth showed beneath his tiny moustache in a -smile. - -"Oh, I see! It is in that direction the land lies! Well, let him -come. Let our so-wonderful skipper take care of him!" - -Ericksen shook his head. "Nope. Skipper says: 'Boatswain, don't you -bring no barnacles along! Bring that young lady--and no barnacles.' -Skipper knowed what he was about; strike me blind if he didn't! So -Mr. Dennis he stays here." - -Dumont regarded his companion with an admiring air. - -"Ah, you have the head, my friend! You have not the looks, perhaps, -but the head----" - -"What's the matter with my looks, Frenchy?" demanded Ericksen -suddenly, regarding the smaller man with steady eyes. "Come, now! -Step aft an' speak it out, you! What's the matter with 'em?" - -"Nothing in particular--merely the general aspect." And Dumont -cocked his head on one side in pretended survey. Then he broke into -laughter. "_Drôle_! You cannot afford to fight with me, eh? No. -And you know better. Eh? I have always desired, my friend, to get -my finger in that left eye of yours; it looks so devilish! I always -wondered how the socket would look--if there were not a little devil -sitting there, _couchant_!" - -Ericksen changed countenance suddenly, and sat back in his seat. -Behind those jesting words of Dumont's there lay a grotesque -speculation--an earnestness, even! The dapper little man assumed a -frightful air, an air of abnormality. One sensed that he spoke of -tearing out a man's eye with calm enjoyment, as though--as though he -had done it before this. - -"You're right, hearty," said Ericksen, wetting his lips. "Right-o! -No trouble in the after cabin, and there'll be none forward. What -were we speakin' of? Oh, yes! Dennis. Well, you go and occupy that -room to-night, and do your business to-morrow morning, then go back -there. Dennis will mess with me an' the lady to-morrow noon, see? -You get me a scrap of his fist--or better, take a squint at it and -copy this here entry in the log." - -Ericksen took from the table a paper bearing a few lines of writing, -on which he had been engaged when Dumont entered, and passed it to -his friend. The latter scrutinised the writing, and chuckled softly. - -"Oh! For the lady, eh? Ah, what a head you have! It is wasted upon -you, my friend. It should have gone with such intelligence as mine." - -"You lay off them personal remarks, Frenchy," snapped Ericksen -suddenly. - -"Aye, matey," retorted the other with mocking air. "Well? What -next?" - -"You telephone me here right after noon mess. I'll be able to give -you Dennis' afternoon programme then. You've got to stop him from -taking that train to-morrow night--an' stop him hard! Don't forget -to take all his money, either--strip him to the bone." - -Dumont shrugged. "What would you? Here in Chicago are the police, -and I like them not. It is not as if we were aboard the _Pelican_, -my friend." - -"Oh, don't kill him," snapped Ericksen impatiently. "Merely a good -stiff jolt that will leave him on his back a few days. And do it at -the last minute, too. 'Take no chances, Boatswain,' says the -Skipper, 'and if there's any wind in sight, get your top-canvas -down.' So do it at the last minute, and then get the train. Have a -taxi waiting." - -"All right." Dumont straightened up. "Let's go see a picture-show, -eh?" - -Ericksen assented with a grunt. - - -Promptly at one o'clock on Monday, Boatswain Joe was waiting in the -lobby of the Royton restaurant, when Tom Dennis and Florence were -deposited by the elevator. With a cheerful grin on his freckled -features, Ericksen approached them. - -"Good day to you. 'Two bells,' says you, and two bells it is, all -shipshape! It's fine and rosy ye look, ma'am!" - -"Thank you, Mr. Ericksen." And under his light-blue predatory eyes -the girl blushed as she shook hands. "I've been shopping this -morning, and that always makes a woman happy, you know!" - -They entered the breakfast-room, where the waiter, mindful of -Ericksen's tip, led them to a table by one of the front windows -overlooking the Art Institute and the sparkling blue lake front. - -"Does it remind you of the sea?" Tom Dennis motioned toward the blue -horizon, and smiled at the sailor. - -"In a way, yes. It looks like the sea down south, under the Line." - -"You've been in the South Seas?" asked the girl quickly. Ericksen -met her gaze, and seemed a trifle embarrassed. - -"Yes'm, oncet or twicet. I been whalin' with Cap'n Pontifex, you -know, all us whalers work off Lower California and across to the -islands 'fore going north--that is, we used to. Nowadays things -change. 'There's no tellin' at all,' says the Skipper, 'what kind of -a wind is rising these days.' And Skipper's right." - -"You seem to like your skipper." Florence laughed. "Is he a nice -man?" - -Ericksen's down-drawn left lip twitched as if in repression of a -grimace. - -"Nice is as nice does, hey? I reckon he's all right, Miss Hathaway." - -"Oh, you mustn't call me that any more," said the girl calmly, and -held out her hand. "Look at the present I got an hour ago!" - - -Ericksen's predatory eyes fastened upon the gold circlet. His face -whitened. Tom Dennis, watching intently, saw the man's lips open and -form a silent unspoken curse. In the light-blue eyes he read a -message of astounded incredulity, of passionate anger. - -"You--you've been an' got spliced!" Ericksen, speaking hoarsely, -looked at Florence. His face changed suddenly. He plunged to his -feet and extended a horny hand across the table toward Dennis. - -"Strike me blind!" he ejaculated. "Took me all of a heap, it did! -Well, sir, this is a surprise! And only an hour ago, you say? -Congratulations, and may you always have a fair course and a bone in -your teeth; aye, and a good cargo under hatches! Well, well--strike -me blind if I'd thought this was goin' to happen! We'll have a -bottle o' fizz-wine, hey? A toast all around--real weddin' dinner! -And to think o' me sittin' here with no present, nothin' but an -honest sailor-man's hearty good wishes to give--why, it fair breaks -me up!" - -"Oh, we decided to make the trip West our honeymoon," said Tom -Dennis, with a smile at Florence. "It was too good a chance to miss, -Boatswain." - -"Then--then you're going, hey? To-night?" - -"Yes, Mr. Ericksen." Florence nodded. "And believe me, I'd sooner -have your good wishes than all the presents in the world! Good -wishes mean lots more, don't they?" - -"Sometimes, miss. Ha--I mean, Mrs. Dennis--sometimes," assented -Ericksen solemnly. "And to think o' you springing it on me that -way--why, it took me all aback, it did!" - -So the "fizz-wine" came and was drunk with many toasts. - - -In the course of the luncheon it developed that Florence was to spend -the afternoon packing for the trip, and would dine at the school in -order to save time. Tom Dennis, who had in view an endeavour to -secure orders for some special articles on the West from his former -newspaper editors, arranged to call for her in time to make the train -that night. - -Ericksen insisted upon protracting the luncheon with a second bottle -of "fizz-wine" in honour of the occasion; afterward all three -departed, and separated at the Adams Street entrance to the "L", -where the newly-married couple said farewell to Boatswain Joe. - -No sooner had they vanished up the stairway than Boatswain Joe made -all haste to his hotel. He found no message at the desk; but when he -entered his room he found Dumont awaiting him. - -"You--here! What's up, Frenchy?" - -Smilingly, Dumont extended him a note Ericksen seized it and examined -it with quick approval. - -"It was very easily done, my friend," said Dumont, yawning sleepily. -"So I came here myself. You seem to be irritated, eh? What is the -matter?" - -Ericksen gave vent to a full-blown curse. - -"Matter enough! Here that swab has been and married her this -mornin'!" - -Dumont's brows lifted. He uttered a long whistle. - -"They are married! Well, Cap'n Pontifex, he will not like that, eh?" - -"Blast it!" snarled Ericksen. "Don't you see what it means?" - -"More or less," Dumont spat out the words with venom. "It means that -the Skipper promised me the girl, eh? And that now he will try----" - -"You bloody fool!" roared Ericksen, smashing his big fist down on the -table. "Don't it mean squalls ahead of us all? Don't it mean that -instead of havin' her to deal with, now we have him too? Don't it -mean that he's signed up for a share in old Hathaway's leavin's? And -if we don't scuttle him, then he'll scuttle us!" - -Dumont caressed his moustache, his dark yes narrowed and alert. - -"_Mille tonnerre_!" he ejaculated slowly. "You are right. He is the -old man's son-in-law, eh? Ah, but you have the head, my friend! You -see the things, yes! And her signature would be no good, eh?" - - -Ericksen rammed tobacco into his pipe and held his peace for a -moment, until the briar was smoking. - -"Now," he said shortly, "that train leaves to-night at one bell?" - -"Eight and the half," assented Dumont with a nod. - -"He's goin' to call for her about eight bells, see? He'll prob'ly be -in his room stowin' his dunnage bag about six bells. You have to -scuttle him, Frenchy--all proper. Open the sea-cocks and stand by -the ship till she's gone. No mistake!" - -"And the madame?" queried Dumont. "Who will call for her?" - -"I will. And this here note you've written----" - -"Oh, now I understand!" Dumont chuckled softly. "You have the head, -my friend! Good. I must scuttle this fellow, eh? Well, it is for -all our sakes now. And by the way, I have taken a compartment, so -that I could keep my eye on the suitcase better. The Skipper said to -be careful. I had to buy another ticket." - -Ericksen merely waved his hand carelessly. "You scuttle that swab, -Frenchy, and money won't cut no figure. So you'll carry the -suitcase, eh? Better send it down to the train ahead of you. 'Don't -get your lines tangled,' says the Skipper. You mind that! I'll -sleep with you in the compartment, eh? All right." - -"All right," assented the other. "I'll send the suitcase down to the -train. Now see, my friend! Is it not humorous--what you call the -paradox? In order to make our little venture legal, we must first -keel a man! Is it not droll!" - -Boatswain Joe thrust forward his head, and so terribly threatening -were his arrogant light-blue eyes that Dumont flinched a trifle. - -"Never you mind your laughin'--it ain't time yet, Frenchy! You mind -your course, d'ye see? Fall off a couple o' points and things'll be -in a mess, see? You mind your course! You and me have big lays in -this thing. If it goes through all shipshape, we'll have money. -Now, you let her head fall off and there'll be trouble, see?" - -Dumont spread out his hands, Gallic fashion. - -"My friend," he said softly, "there is no need for threats. Me, I -know what to do. Me, I shall do it, so! But remember one thing, -you: on the train, you shall introduce me to the lady, so I shall -console her for the absent one. Eh?" - -"Agreed!" Ericksen made an impatient gesture. "You're a dago and -you can't help settin' your course by a woman, I s'pose. But you -better watch out, Frenchy. This here one is married." - -Dumont smiled. "I shall attend to that--to-night." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SQUARE SUITCASE - -Tom Dennis, in the meantime, was making some discoveries. - -In the course of the afternoon he dropped in at his old newspaper -office with the object of seeing the boys and trying to get some -special assignments on the Pacific Coast. In this latter endeavour -he was more successful than he had dared hope, for the editor -declared at once in favour of a series of articles on the Canadian -training-camps in the vicinity of Vancouver, and even spoke of -syndicating them. - -Thus, when Dennis returned to the city-room, he was in hopeful vein. -Most of his old friends were still on the staff, with some new men; -he said nothing about his marriage, or about his failure in -Marshville, but stated that he had been called to the Pacific Coast -on unexpected business, and let it go at that. - -Then Margate entered, and gripped his hand with a shout. Margate was -the "big man", who covered political conventions and topics of -country-wide interest. It appeared that Margate had himself just -returned from the Coast where he had been doing some big things with -the moving-picture stars. Dennis retired into a corner with him, and -in the course of their chat casually inquired: - -"I suppose you never heard of a sea-captain out there by the name of -Pontifex, did you? It's an odd sort of moniker----" - -Margate grinned. - -"Heard of him? I should say yes! He's the only chap I ever heard of -who put it all over the motion-picture people. Why, they're yelling -about it yet!" - -"How's that?" asked Dennis in unaffected surprise. - -"It seems this chap Pontifex owned an old whaling brig. She was laid -up at San Pedro, in pretty bad shape, and the Greatorex people wanted -to use her in a couple of scenarios. So Pontifex leased her to -them--savvy? About six months ago they got through with her--and -then they discovered something. In his lease, Pontifex had slipped -over a couple of jokers; they had to refit the old hooker from top to -bottom and make her ready for sea. I forget how many thousands it -cost them. I remember she was sent up to him at Vancouver, just -before I came East, and everyone was slipping the laugh to the -Greatorex folks at the way a whaling skipper had put it over them. -And believe me, the job was done right! It takes a genius to manage -a stunt like that nowadays." - -"Then you don't know Pontifex personally?" - -"Lord, no! What are you running down, anyhow? Is he a pirate?" - -Dennis laughed. "I hope not. I've heard some things about him, -though--good human-interest stuff for a magazine feature, if they're -true. I'll look him up at Vancouver. What's the name of his ship?" - -"The _Pelican_. Say, if you're there any time, look up my brother; -he's doing shipping stuff on _The Vancouver Mail_. He'll be glad to -do the honours, and you might pick up some good dope from him." - -When he left the office, Dennis sought the railroad office and bought -tickets for himself and Florence to Vancouver, obtaining a -compartment; the money which Ericksen had given him, with what he had -left of his own, proved quite sufficient. Then, encountering Margate -and a couple more men from the office, he went to dinner with them. -At seven o'clock he was on the way home to pack. - - -It had not been a highly romantic wedding-day, he reflected, either -for himself or for Florence; but they would have a trip of four days -in which to make up for that. The commissions for work at Vancouver -were a tremendous aid to Dennis, keeping him from feeling that he was -loafing on the job. The money, too, would help. And he anticipated -no particular difficulty in getting work. He was one of the -well-known men in his profession, and a place would be made for him; -he was not a newspaper "tramp". He was not one of the shiftless or -incompetent men-of-all-trades who seek the Coast as a haven of -refuge. Already, in view of his unexpected marriage and the -all-impelling faith of Florence, he had risen above the despondency -induced by his Marshville venture. - -He had obtained no information from Florence which could serve to -throw any light upon Ericksen or Captain Pontifex; she had been -entirely ignorant of what knowledge they wished to extract from her -or from her paralysed father. Captain Hathaway's last ship, a -freighter named the _John Simpson_, had been lost while _en route_ -from San Francisco to Vladivostok. She had gone down with all hands -somewhere off the Aleuts, and with Captain Hathaway totally paralysed -since his rescue it was unlikely that her story would ever be known. - -As Tom Dennis packed together his few belongings, with purchases -which he had made that day, he blessed the girl who had that morning -married him, and he swore savagely to himself that it would not be -for worse, but for better. Not easily had he assented to her -proposal; not easily had he grasped her reasons for making it; but -now he realized the sheer truth which she had seen from the first. -There was no danger whatever that he would be unable to provide the -necessities of life. True, heart-trouble, of which he had never -before been aware, had barred him from wearing a uniform; but this -disease was a remote danger. His ability lay in his head, and he had -no doubt about his ability to win a fair living wage. The paralytic -Captain Hathaway would be in some ways a burden, but one which Tom -Dennis cheerfully assumed. - -"With faith in the future and in each other, we would have been fools -not to marry!" he confided to his suitcase. "We'll pull through; and -we'll make a tenfold better fight for having each other! I'm almost -glad that the old _Clarion_ went under----" - -He did not hear his door open; nor did he hear the approach of a -swift catlike form from the doorway. He did, however, feel the -draught from the open door. He half-turned; but he turned only to -feel a crashing blow on the head. - - -Dumont stood over the prostrate figure, softly chuckling, and stowed -away the blackjack which had dealt the blow. The figure of Dennis -lay motionless, arms outflung; his profile was visible against the -rug, and the eyes were closed. His assailant eyed him for a moment, -then stepped to the window and drew down the blind. A single -electric bulb lighted the room. - -Dumont returned to his victim. From his pocket he produced a -handkerchief folded and padded with cotton. From another pocket he -took a thin flat vial of chloroform which he poured heavily over the -handkerchief; the fumes sickened the air. Then he knelt, and put a -hand half under Dennis, feeling the heart. - -"Good!" he muttered with an air of pride. He spoke in French, his -voice low. "It was a good job. The bump on his head will not be -observed. They will think it suicide." - -And then sudden wild surprise and consternation convulsed his -features. His left hand, beneath Dennis, was suddenly seized and -twisted by iron fingers. Dumont, a startled oath on his lips, was -pulled forward off his balance and fell headlong over his victim. -Both bodies heaved madly. - -Across the would-be assassin the big figure of Tom Dennis sprawled -heavily. Dumont had been entirely taken by surprise. Dennis seized -the handkerchief and clapped it over the face of his opponent. - -The Frenchman fought. He struggled viciously, silently, desperately; -he struck with fists and nails and knees, biting at the hand which -held the bandage across his mouth and nose. - -"No use, my friend," said Dennis, speaking half-forgotten French. -"You didn't hit quite hard enough." - -The convulsive struggles of Dumont, held helpless by sheer weight, -quieted into jerky movements. Tom Dennis knocked away the saturated -handkerchief and turned the limp figure on its face. He shook out -the handkerchief and knotted the wet linen about the wrists of -Dumont. Then, weakly, he caught at a chair and pulled himself erect. - -Dennis felt deathly sick. That clip over the ear had been a shrewd -one, and in the closed room the fumes of the narcotic reeked from the -bottle which had spilled its entire contents on the floor. Dizzy and -staggering, he groped his way to the window and flung it open. He -knelt there, his head on the window-sill, bathing himself in the -fresh air. - -"A near thing!" he muttered. "A near thing!" - -How long he lay there he did not know. The sickness, the nausea, -passed from him by slow degrees. He gingerly felt his head, finding -that the skin was unbroken; a lump had already risen. His senses -were still aswim when at length he rose to his feet. - - -The Frenchman was senseless, but was probably in no danger. -Inspecting the man, Dennis remembered to have seen him entering the -adjoining room that same evening. But what could have been the -motive of this amazing assault by an utter stranger, a fellow lodger -with whom he had never exchanged a word? It did not appear to be -robbery, for Dumont was well-dressed. The rugged features of Tom -Dennis grew hard and harsh as he gazed down, remembering the man's -words. The chloroform had not been intended merely to knock him out; -it had been intended to kill him! Why? - -Stooping, he ran swiftly through the contents of Dumont's pockets. -He found an automatic, the bluejack which had struck him and a thin -keen knife. He found a wad of yellow-backed bills, which he stuck -into his own pocket with a chuckle. He found no letters, nothing -else at all--except an envelope such as is issued at railroad ticket -offices. In this envelope were two tickets--one the return half of a -Vancouver-to-Chicago ticket, the other a one-way ticket from Chicago -to Vancouver; and with them was the Pullman ticket calling for a -compartment. The date was of this very day, the train that upon -which Dennis himself was leaving! In the envelope, also, were two -small brass keys. - -Dropping into a chair, Tom Dennis frowned over these clues. Could -the man have some connection with Ericksen--coming as he had from -Vancouver, and being about to return there? Perhaps. Dennis -suspected Ericksen, had suspected him from the first. But there was -no obvious connection; there was no link of direct accusation. Had -Ericksen been behind this assault? - -Manifestly this assassin had two tickets so that he could occupy a -compartment alone. Why? For what purpose? At this thought Dennis -went to his door, passed into the hall and went directly to the next -door--that of Dumont's room. He found the room quite empty. Upon -the bed was a small valise, but it contained nothing except linen and -articles of travel. - -"Blamed if I can account for it!" muttered Dennis, returning to his -own room. "This fellow meant to bury me; that's certain. I'll keep -his money as fair loot. About his two tickets and--hm! I'd better -keep them too, and occupy that compartment occasionally. There may -be something in it which will give me a clue. I'll do it." - -He glanced at his watch, suddenly conscious that time had been -passing. He was aghast to find that it was eight o'clock--and the -train left at eight-thirty! - - -With a hasty ejaculation he caught up his suitcase, crammed it shut -and after a last glance at the recumbent assassin turned out the -light and ran downstairs to the hall telephone. He was too late to -call for Florence now; she must catch a taxi to the station! - -His first thought was to order a taxicab for himself; then he called -up the school where Florence had been teaching. There ensued five -minutes--a frantic five minutes--of delay before a cool woman's voice -informed him that Miss Hathaway had departed some time before; a -gentleman had called for her. - -Dennis demanded a description of the man, and recognized Ericksen. - -When the taxi appeared, Dennis flung himself into the cab and thrust -a bill at the driver with orders to make the station regardless of -traffic officers. He saw quite clearly, now, that Ericksen had -planned this attempted murder; there was no proof of it, but he -needed none. What was the reason behind it? This question maddened -Dennis. Was Florence being abducted? Such a thing seemed impossible -and incredible, outside a movie scenario. - -When Dennis reached the station he had about three minutes left. He -took the gate at a rush, showing his tickets hurriedly, and swung -aboard the nearest open vestibule of the train just as the porters -were picking up their stools. - -He found that the compartment-car was up ahead. Since he had his own -tickets, with that of Florence, she would certainly not be in their -compartment, but probably in one of the Pullmans. So he started -through the train, scrutinising each seat as he came to it. - -Two cars ahead, he came suddenly upon Florence, who was alone. She -sprang up with a glad cry, and Dennis saw that she had been weeping. - -"Oh--I knew you'd make it, after all, Tom!" she broke out, her hands -going to his. - -Dennis stooped and touched her lips with his. - -"All right now, old girl," he said, not bothering for an explanation -of her words. "Where's Ericksen?" - -"He just went forward to arrange about our tickets, he said." - -Dennis beckoned to the porter who was approaching. He gave the darky -the number of his own compartment and ordered Florence's grips taken -there; then he turned to his wife. - -"Now, Mrs. Dennis," he said, chuckling as she flushed at the name, -"you go to that compartment and wait until I show up, will you -please? I have a little business with Mr. Ericksen--and it won't -wait a minute!" - -"Is anything wrong? Your note--it said that you might make the -train----" - -Dennis took from her hand a folded note and glanced at it. Then he -thrust it into his pocket and patted her shoulder. - -"I'll be along presently, dear. No, nothing wrong! I have some good -news for you, too--got some assignments out West. I'll meet you in a -few minutes." - - -Leaving his grip and a coin with the porter, Tom Dennis rushed -forward. When he gained the compartment-car, he consulted Dumont's -tickets and found that the latter had engaged Compartment Six. -Dennis went directly to this compartment and knocked. The voice of -Ericksen bade him enter. He threw open the door and stepped inside -the little room. - -"Well!" Dennis closed the door behind him and stood, smiling. -"Expecting your friend, are you? He's not coming, Boatswain Joe." - -There was no doubt about it; Ericksen was hard hit. He stared at -Dennis, his mouth agape, his light-blue eyes wide-set. - -"Strike me blind," he affirmed, huskily, "if it ain't you!" - -"You win. What are you doing in this compartment?" - -"Who--me? Why, matey, I was lookin' for the skipper of this here -train, and I pops in here for a bit of a smoke, out of the way and -quiet! And where might you have come from, matey? I thought you -weren't coming along, this cruise." - -"What made you think that?" demanded Dennis. - -"Why, strike me blind!" stated Ericksen with energy. "Didn't that -there swab give me your note sayin' you wouldn't show up?" - -Tom Dennis was staggered by this defence. - -"What note are you talking about? The one you gave Mrs. Dennis?" - -"Aye, that and t'other one! Give 'em to me, he did, and said you -wouldn't show up. The note said the same thing, and asked me to call -for Mrs. Dennis, see? Well, I done it--and this here is the thanks I -get!" - -"What kind of a man gave you the notes?" - -Ericksen was sweating profusely. At this question he screwed up his -eyes and bit on his pipe-stem in thought. - -"Well," he answered at length, "a sort o' rakish craft, he was, with -little what-d'ye-call-'ems of moustaches, and looked like a dago." - -That answered to the description of the assassin, and Dennis -hesitated under the impact of a sudden thought. - - -What if that Frenchman had not been an accomplice of Ericksen at -all--but an enemy, with some ulterior purpose at work behind his -actions? There was as much in favour of this theory as of the other. - -"See here, Ericksen!" Dennis met the light-blue gaze with a frowning -level scrutiny. "If your story's true, that same man who gave you -the fake message--for it was a fake--tried to murder me about an hour -ago. He had a ticket to this compartment, and a return-trip ticket -from here to Vancouver in his pocket. Do you know him?" - -"Know him? Not me!" asserted Boatswain Joe virtuously. "Did you -give him to the police?" - -Dennis laughed grimly. "Worse than that. Well, do you know of -anyone who might have followed you from Vancouver here? Have you any -enemies?" - -From Ericksen broke a sudden exclamation. "Strike me blind! If you -ain't hit it right on the head, you have! Somebody has smoked out -the Skipper's game; that's what!" - -"And what's the game?" snapped Dennis. At this the sailor wagged his -head. - -"Can't tell that. 'Mind your jaw-tackle, Boatswain,' says the -Skipper. It's got to do with Miss Hathaway--I mean Mrs. Dennis--and -her father. It ain't for me to say. But there's money in it, and -somebody's smoked it out--strike me blind if they ain't!" - -"Then why should that fellow have tackled me, instead of you?" - -Again Ericksen wagged his head. "Can't tell you that! Didn't you -make the blighter talk?" - -"He was in no condition to talk when I got through with him," -returned Dennis, and the sailor sighed--perhaps with relief. - -Glancing about, Dennis saw only one article of luggage in the -compartment--a small square suitcase, obviously new, and very well -made. It lacked any mark of identification. Beyond doubt it -belonged to the assassin. - -"That was here when you dropped in for a smoke?" demanded Dennis, -pointing at it. - -Ericksen surveyed the square suitcase with surprise. "Must ha' been!" - -From his pocket Tom Dennis produced the two small keys which the -assassin had carried. He fitted one of them to the lock of the -square suitcase; it worked. Meantime, Ericksen was watching him with -ill-concealed anxiety. - -Throwing back the lid of the square suitcase Dennis saw that it -contained nothing except a small phonograph and half a dozen very -large records. The labels on the records proclaimed them to be -grand-opera selections. Frowning thoughtfully, Dennis closed and -locked the suitcase. - -"I'll take this along. You might as well keep this compartment, -Ericksen--I took that scoundrel's tickets; here they are. You'll -find this place more comfortable than a berth. And you needn't -mention to Mrs. Dennis what's happened. It might only worry her. I -fancy we've given your friends the slip entirely, eh? Sorry I -suspected you at first." - -"Oh, don't mention it," said Ericksen, wriggling a little. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE "PELICAN" - -The brigantine-rigged _Pelican_ was of but a hundred and fifty tons -burden; yet her royal yard stood athwart the sky nearly ninety feet -above the deck. She was not a pretty ship, despite her snowy -cleanliness, but she was tall enough; in her 'midships stood the -brick try-works, with two funnels, where blubber was rendered into -oil; and she reeked of the whale-juice that had soaked her stout -oaken timbers these forty years. - -As she lay at anchor in Vancouver harbour, well up toward the second -narrows, there were several peculiar features about her--peculiar, -that is, to the trained seaman's eye. - -She was bound for sea; yet she was altogether too late to get the -spring catch off the Siberian coast; and if she went up into the -Arctic to fill her hogsheads, she would certainly be ice-bound that -winter, and few whalers were taking chances on being ice-bound those -days! Then her crew had been all aboard for two days, and the -majority of them were Kanakas--both facts being unusual. Why the -_Pelican_ was still hanging about the harbour no one could say. - -This old whaler had none too good a reputation, even among her kind; -but this was chiefly because of her officers. Manuel Mendez, the -black Cape Verde mate, was a strapping big man with a thin eagle-like -profile exactly like that of the mummy of Rameses--a great hooked -nose, and air of gentle refinement, and delicate lips. Manuel Mendez -played the flute beautifully and was said to be a killer of men. - -The second officer was an old man, forty years a whaler. Mr. Leman -wore a fringe of white hair and whisker, stood six feet two and was -muscled like a bull moose; they said he had been known to take a -man's arm in his two hands and break it like a rotten stick. His -face was heavy and flat, the eyes small and bright and deeply set. -His nose had been crushed and had a crooked twist - -One of the boat-steerers, Ericksen, was gone from the ship. The -other, like the mate, was a Cape Verde man; his name was a Portuguese -one, but he was called Corny. The brigantine had no cooper, for a -wonder; her cook, like Ericksen, was absent. - -The steward was a vicious little Cockney pickpocket who wanted to get -out of Canada before the draught caught him; the cabin-boy was a -green farmer-lad named Jerry, a moon-faced boy who had run off the -farm a month previously. There was no one else aft. - -In the forecastle were fifteen men. Ten of these were Kanakas--merry -brown men who spoke their own guttural tongue and some broken -English, and like all of their kind were noble seamen. The other -five were broken-down white men, scum of the city, who were kept -drunk and under hatches until the _Pelican_ should get to sea. - -The ship was pervaded by a restless air--that is, in the after -cabins. Up forward the Kanakas sang and worked light-heartedly, and -the five bums snored in drunken repose. But aft all was different. -Restrained excitement, an air of suspense, much whispering and wild -speculating; thus the atmosphere seemed electrically charged. - -Everyone knew that there was an invalid down below--a man in a -wheeled chair, a man who could not speak a single word or move a -finger. Jerry affirmed he could eat, and could use his ears, but -little more, as his eyes also were somewhat affected. Then, the -skipper's wife was aboard for the cruise; and when she came to the -deck, men smartened up--not because they loved her, but because they -feared and hated her. She was known to all aboard as the -Missus--that was her title. - -It was five in the afternoon. Two bells had just been struck on the -brass ship's bell abaft the mizzenmast when the Missus appeared on -the quarter-deck. Sea-watches had been set, and Mr. Leman had the -deck, Mrs. Pontifex was a strapping big woman with iron-grey hair and -a jaw like rock; her unchanging expression was indomitable and not -too sweet. - -"No sign of that boat, Mr. Leman?" she demanded in a raucous voice -which held a distinct Yankee twang. - -"No, ma'am," meekly responded the second officer. "Train must ha' -been late. Them trains often is, I'm told." - -The Missus espied a Kanaka sprawled in the waist; half-leaning -against the try-works, he was asleep in the westerning sun. She -strode to him and aroused him with a sturdy kick in the ribs. - -"Do your sleepin' daown below, ye scouse!" she roared. "This is no -berth-deck. Yeou, Corny! Who went in Mr. Mendez' boat when he took -the Cap'n ashore?" - -"Six of the Kanakas, ma'am," responded the black boat-steerer. - -"Hm! Then they'll not run off. All ready for sea, Mr. Leman?" - -"All ready, ma'am." - -"The minute yeou sight that boat, break aout the signal for the tug. -When the boat comes alongside, yeou tell the cap'n that we've been -ordered to shift anchorage. That'll keep the girl and her fool -husband quiet, I reckon!" - -"Yes, ma'am. And then?" - -"Cast off the tug aoutside the Lion's Gate an' lay a course for -Unalaska." - -"But, ma'am--how about Frenchy? We ain't got no cook 'cept him!" -Mr. Leman rubbed his fringe of whiskers in evident perturbation over -putting to sea without a cook. "You know, ma'am, Boatswain Joe wired -about him gettin' left behind." - -"Never mind 'baout Dumont." Mrs. Pontifex's lips set in a grim line. -"He's got his orders, and I wired money to him. He'll go to Unalaska -by steamer and wait there until we put in." - -"And who'll do the cookin' meantime?" - -"I will. Naow yeou get hove up on that hawser, so's yeou can jerk up -the hook in a hurry." - -Mr. Leman hastened forward, bawling orders as he went. - - -Now, if there was one thing in particular for which Tom Dennis was -not in the least prepared, it was for the reception which awaited him -at Vancouver. He had anticipated a seaman's cottage in the suburbs, -a protracted stay at an hotel or boarding-house, and so forth. - -Instead of this, upon alighting from the train he found himself and -Florence shaking hands with Captain Pontifex to whom Ericksen -introduced them with much delight. The "Skipper" was not, to the -suspicious eye of Dennis, prepossessing in appearance. His curled -black moustache, his swarthy cavernous features, his alert dark eyes, -were all well enough; but the moustache concealed a cruel and bitter -mouth; the features were high-boned and sharp; and the eyes were of -the heavy-lidded type--the eyes of a master of men, the eyes of a -Hindenburg. - -First impressions were almost effaced, however, by the polished -cordiality of Pontifex. He was a man of education, of intense -personality, and he was at some pains to make himself agreeable. -Florence's first question was for her father. - -"We have taken him aboard the _Pelican_, Mrs. Dennis; he seemed to -miss the salt air, and the lease on our cottage was up," responded -Pontifex. "This way, please--I have a taxicab waiting! I have a -cabin all ready for you aboard ship, and Mrs. Pontifex promised to -have a bang-up dinner at six sharp; so we've just time to make the -ship. If you'll let me have your trunk-checks, Mr. Dennis----" - -"But Captain, we can't impose upon your hospitality!" interrupted Tom -Dennis. "It's mighty good of you, but----" - -"Nonsense, my dear chap!" Pontifex laughed and seized his arm, -impelling him, toward the cab. "It's a great pleasure, I assure you! -Of course you young married folks will be glad of solitude after you -get settled down with the old cap'n, but--I suppose Ericksen told you -the business we had in hand?" - -"Ericksen told us nothing," returned Dennis. - -"Good for the Boatswain!" Pontifex laughed again. "I warned him to -keep a close tongue. Well, suppose we pass up business for to-night, -and in the morning we'll get together, eh? The directors of the -company will be all aboard then; you'll be our guests for a time." - -"What company?" interjected Florence. - -"Ah, that's the secret!" Pontifex bowed her into the cab, his white -teeth showing in a smile. "A surprise for you, madam! It was odd, -the way I happened to pick up your father--poor man, stuck away in a -sailor's home, unable to tell so much as his name! You know, we were -always pretty good friends, Miles and I." - - -Tom Dennis found his suspicions fading, and his first dislike of -Pontifex was lulled to rest by the man's vivid personality. Pontifex -had character, plenty of it, and like all strong men could make -himself greatly liked or greatly hated almost at will. He appeared -to be a good-humoured, masterly sort of man, heartily loving a joke, -and radiating an air of alert and genial manliness. Dennis adjudged -him a good friend but a bad enemy. - -"We hope that the shock of seeing you, Mrs. Dennis, will restore your -father's power of speech," went on Pontifex. "For that reason we've -not told him----" - -"But how can he be so paralysed?" demanded Florence quickly. "Can he -hear, and not speak? Why----" - -"My dear young lady, the best doctors in Vancouver can't account for -it!" Pontifex shook his head with an air of paternal solicitude. -"It's one of the freak cases of paralysis; but it's not at all an -unusual case. He can move his eyelids slightly, his eyes perfectly; -he can eat and drink fairly well; yet his vocal cords are entirely -paralysed." - -Without opportunity for further converse they reached the -water-front, and Captain Pontifex led the way toward the -landing-stage. Tom Dennis had his own grip, a huge affair as large -as a small trunk, and two bags belonging to Florence; of these latter -the skipper had assumed charge. - -Upon reaching the boat with its six merry Kanaka rowers, Manuel -Mendez was introduced by Pontifex. Mendez made up for his broken -English by a wide grin, and assisted Florence down into the -stern-sheets of the boat, beside the Skipper, who took charge of the -long steering-oar. Dennis climbed into the bow with Mendez. - -After a short wait Ericksen appeared, a truckman helping him bear the -one trunk which Florence had brought; this was stowed in the boat. -Ericksen shook hands with Mendez, flinging a laughing greeting to the -men; the Skipper, standing, flung an impatient word at Ericksen, and -the latter turned to Dennis. - -"I didn't see nothin' of that square suitcase, Mr. Dennis--the one -you took out o' that other compartment." - -Tom Dennis laughed unconcernedly. "Oh, that! There was nothing in -it I wanted, Boatswain Joe; I gave it to the porter the first night -out." - -Ericksen dropped his pipe to the wharf and stooped for it, with a -rumbling of low words which did not sound like blessings. Captain -Pontifex changed countenance, then snapped a command at the boat -steerer. His voice was suddenly metallic, piercing. - -"Hurry up, there, Boatswain! We've no time to dally around." - -Boatswain Joe, looking very much like a dog who is about to receive a -sound thrashing, jumped down into the boat. The bowman shoved off. -The oars flashed. The whaleboat swung out into the estuary. - - -Tom Dennis entertained an uneasy feeling that he had been bodily -abducted--and laughed at himself for a simpleton. Mendez pointed out -the _Pelican_ as they approached her, and from the other direction a -tug was crawling up to the brigantine. As the boat drew under the -brown side of the ship, a flat white-whiskered face appeared above -the ladder; Mendez informed Dennis that this was the second mate, Mr. -Leman. - -"Ahoy, Cap'n!" called Leman in unexpectedly stentorian tones. "We've -been ordered to shift our anchorage, sir--port authorities. Tug -comin' now!" - -"Very well, Mr. Leman," returned Pontifex briskly. "Pass a line from -the forward bitts and stand ready to heave up the hook. Mr. Mendez, -will you attend to this luggage? All ready, Miss--pardon, Mrs. -Dennis! May I assist you up the ladder?" - -If Florence entertained any shrinking from that steep approach, she -concealed it well, and with the aid of Pontifex was soon on the deck -above being introduced to the Missus. Tom Dennis followed. The -Missus gave him a mighty hand-grip, then turned to Florence. - -"Supper's all ready," announced Mrs. Pontifex. "I suppose, poor -dear, yeou'd sooner see your poor father first? Then come with -me--do. Cap'n, yeou make that man Ericksen wash his face and hands -before he sits daown to table! And put a clean shirt on him." - -Boatswain Joe was just then coming up the side, and heard the words. - -"You hear?" snapped Pontifex. - -"Yes sir," he responded meekly, and his freckled face looked rather -white. - -Mrs. Pontifex departed with Florence, and Tom Dennis joined them at a -glance from the latter. All three passed down the after companion. - -In a wheeled chair set beside the stern windows of the cabin sat -Miles Hathaway. He was not as Tom Dennis had seen him pictured, for -his rocky and indomitable face was half-concealed by a growth of -shaggy grey beard. His hair, too, had grown long and was streaked -with grey. He sat motionless, hands in lap. His eyes, wide glowing -brown eyes like those of Florence, were fastened upon the three who -entered. - - -The meeting was pitiful almost to tragedy. With a wordless cry -Florence ran to her father and knelt beside him, clasping him in her -arms, her head against his broad and massive chest. The man sat -there unstirring, helpless. His eyes seemed to lack the swift play -of cheek-muscles and lids which gives expression; yet, as those eyes -dwelt upon the upturned face of Florence, they seemed to dilate with -incredulous horror. - -"We've brought your daughter, Cap'n Hathaway," announced Mrs. -Pontifex stridently, "and her husband, Mr. Dennis." - -The eyes of the helpless man turned to Dennis and rested upon his -gaze. The mouth of Miles Hathaway opened; he tried terribly and -frightfully to stir himself, to break the invisible bonds which held -him tied down--and he failed. He could not speak or move. Yet his -eyes, fastened upon the face of Dennis, seemed filled with some awful -and momentous message. - -"I'm so glad we've found you, Father dear!" said Florence softly, -tears on her cheeks. "Tom and I are going to take care of you -always, and if only Mother were here--she never knew that you were -alive." - -Again the mouth of Miles Hathaway opened spasmodically, but he could -not speak His eyes were horrible to see, so dumbly eloquent were they -of the useless will of the man. Tom Dennis could not bear the scene -further, and touched the arm of Mrs. Pontifex. - -"Leave them--for a little while." - -The woman nodded. They left father and daughter together. The -Missus led the way to the mess-cabin, where they found Pontifex -opening a bottle of wine. Up above, feet were trampling the deck, -and the brig was heeling a trifle. - -"A real dinner!" exclaimed Pontifex heartily. "A real wedding -dinner, eh? Mr. Leman has the deck, my dear, and he's called all -hands; so for once we'll have a quiet family meal, eh? Where's Mrs. -Dennis? Oh, with her father, of course. A sad meeting for her!" - -"Yes. But for you, Captain Pontifex, there would have been none at -all," said Dennis warmly. "We owe you a good deal----" - -"There, there, don't mention it!" Pontifex gave his curled mustache -a twirl, and his white teeth flashed out in a smile. "We'll have our -pay, never fear, the Missus and I. Talk it over in the morning, eh? -I suppose you're pretty familiar with your Dumas, Mr. Dennis? Well, -well--a bother having to change our anchorage this way, but the port -authorities know their business these war-times, of course. Well, -sit down." - - -The dinner was excellent--although, owing to the motion of the ship, -the dishes joggled more than a little. Captain Pontifex made light -of it, explaining that they might not reach their new anchorage until -midnight. - -With the coffee was served a liqueur, the most peculiar and biting -Tom Dennis had ever tasted. The skipper stated that it was a queer -distillation made from flour and molasses by a Siberian Eskimo--quite -a rarity. Perhaps it was this liqueur which made Tom Dennis most -unaccountably sleepy; indeed, he could hardly stumble off to the -mate's cabin which had been assigned him and Florence. And as he -retired, he could faintly hear the roaring bellow of Boatswain Joe, -somewhere on deck: - - "She was waiting for a fair wind to get under way, - A _long_ time ago!" - - -The last vague thought of Tom Dennis was a mental query as to why -Captain Pontifex had asked him if he were familiar with Dumas. He -was to remember it later, also. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -OUTWARD BOUND - -Upon the morning after the _Pelican_ stood out of the Lion's Gate and -headed southward, she was outside Cape Flattery and standing off to -the northwest, bucking and pitching and leaning over under a stiff -blow from the westward. - -Captain Pontifex, although on this cruise he carried no third mate, -adhered to the custom of whaling skippers and stood no watches -himself except at times of necessity. On this fine morning, however, -he was on the quarter-deck, talking with black Manuel Mendez. The -steward approached them gingerly, for he was rather seasick. - -"Well?" snapped the skipper. "How are they? Do they know we're at -sea?" - -"Yes, sir, they seem to, sir," returned the Cockney. "Mr. Dennis is -wery sick, sir. The lady, sir, is not." - -"Taking care of him, is she?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Well, steward, you give them my compliments, and say that I expect -them to appear in the saloon cabin at four bells sharp." - -"Yes, sir." - -"And, steward! You might ask the Missus for a bit of raw blubber. -Eat it raw, steward, and it'll cure what's ailing you. fat whale -blubber----" - -"Yes, sir," said the steward faintly, his cheeks turning green. He -fled in haste. - -Black Mendez grinned delightedly. "Dey'll be no good for fight, -Cap'n." - -The skipper merely laughed in his throat, and strode to the companion -way. He had changed overnight. No longer was he under the shadow of -the land, under the hand of port and civil and military authorities! -No longer was he among the meshes of mankind's net! Here he was the -master. Here he was authority ultimate and supreme. Here, on the -high seas, his word, and his alone, was law. He only dictated; all -others obeyed! He was the skipper. He was absolute. - -Something of all this showed in his eyes as he went below. At the -foot of the ladder he met the Missus, rock-like and indomitable. She -looked into his eyes and shrank slightly. - -"At four bells," said Captain Pontifex curtly. "In the cabin--with -him." - -She nodded and looked after him as he swung away aft. She was afraid -of him, but she was proud of him--was she not his woman? She, of -whom all others aboard the _Pelican_ were in dread, stood in fear of -the skipper. - - -Captain Pontifex passed into the saloon at the stern, where the -helpless Miles Hathaway sat in his chair beside the screwed-down cot -that served him as a bunk. Despite the hardness and the harshness -and the terror of the Missus' life, she was after all a woman; the -cabin ports were curtained with flowered chintz, the big gun-rack and -the little bookcase were also curtained; in the corner near the stern -ports was a heavy tea-jar lashed to the deck, in which blossomed a -huge scarlet geranium plant. This geranium was the pride and joy of -the Missus, and the envy and admiration of all visiting whaling -skippers. - -The skipper pulled up a chair in front of Miles Hathaway, stuffed -tobacco into his pipe, struck a match and, through the ensuing cloud -of smoke, fastened his keen dark eyes upon the staring gaze of the -paralytic. - -"Well," he observed, "I've got 'em, haven't I? Bit of a surprise, -eh?" - -It seemed as though some fearful inner convulsion swept over the -helpless man. His mouth opened slightly; his eyelids jerked. But he -could not speak. - -Pontifex laughed. "Told you I'd make you talk, didn't I? We're off -to sea at last, Cap'n, and I've got her aboard. Also, her -husband--she'll be a widow early, won't she? That is, if you're -still stubborn. Well, I told you that I expected to go Dumas _père_ -one better, by the aid of modern science; but, my dear Miles, we must -continue to stick to the old novelist a little while. So you'll -kindly answer in the usual way when I ask questions." - -For a moment Pontifex puffed at his pipe. Then he took from the -table another pipe, filled it with tobacco, lighted it, and placed it -between the teeth of Hathaway. - -"Now we'll have a friendly little chat over our 'baccy, eh? Real old -sailormen, eh?" He chuckled with horrible mockery. "At four bells, -Cap'n, they'll come in here and we'll hold a meeting of the -directorate. The Hathaway Salvage Company--how's that, eh? Sorry -you're out of it. Do you remember that time in Vladivostok, when you -met me on the street and cursed me back and forth for marooning those -deserters on an ice-floe? Well, I told you then that I'd get even, -Miles. And now--_she_ is at sea with me! Good joke, eh?" - -The subtle horror-gleam in the eyes of Miles Hathaway was -intensified. His massive face purpled, then paled again under its -stubble of whitish beard. - -"Bo'sun Joe slipped up in letting her get married," pursued Pontifex. -"But we'll need her signature and that of her husband--or we'll so -tell them. Savvy, Miles? We'll tell 'em that; we'll make it -convincing, too. We'll make 'em quite certain that what we want is -their signatures and their help. But you know better, Miles! - -"Yes, you know better. You know that I had to get the girl in order -to make you talk, blast you! That's why I spent money getting her. -That's why I got her. As for Dennis, we'll get rid of him later. He -doesn't count." - -Again Pontifex resumed his pipe, puffing it alight. He spoke -smilingly, now--an ugly smile that curved his lips. He leaned -forward with a swift intent question. - -"If it's hard to use your eyelids, Miles, answer with the pipe. Are -you going to tell me where the _John Simpson_ lays?" - -Captain Hathaway sent a single spiral of smoke up-curling from his -pipe. - -"No?" Pontifex ceased to smile. "We've tried torturing you, Miles, -and you're as stubborn a devil as I ever met. Do you want us to -bring the girl in here and torture _her_--under your eyes? Hm! You -remember Frenchy, who put the irons to your feet? Well--Frenchy has -spoken for her. And Frenchy comes aboard at Unalaska. - -"Now, Miles, if you give me the bearings of the _Simpson_, I'll put -you and her and her man ashore at Unalaska, all shipshape. I give -you my solemn word on it, and you know my word means something; -whatever else I do, I don't break my word! By the time we reach -Unalaska you'll understand pretty well how we're going to work on -things. The day we hit Unimak Pass I'll ask you once more--and only -once. If you refuse, I'll set to work on the girl--or Frenchy will. -You think it over, Miles. You think it over hard, blast you! Now -that she's here, I'm going to _make_ you talk!" - -Pontifex knocked out his pipe and that of Hathaway. Then he went on -deck. - - -In the meantime his good wife was visiting the Dennis cabin. -Florence, for all her slim frailness, was untouched by _mal-de-mer_, -and greeted the Missus smilingly. Tom Dennis, sitting on the lower -bunk, managed a weak grin. He was rapidly growing better. - -"The steward brought yeou breakfast?" said the Missus, "Is Mr. Dennis -feeling better?" - -"Quite, I think," responded Florence. "Surely we're not at sea?" - -Mrs. Pontifex nodded. "Oh, yes, we're well aoutside Flattery." - -"And what are we doing there?" demanded Tom Dennis in surprise. - -"Making abaout nine knots," coolly returned the Missus, transfixing -him with her deep cold eyes. "Never mind discussing it naow. If -yeou folks will show up in the cabin at four bells, we'll talk it -aout!" - -"But what does it mean?" Florence, a little pale, laid her hand upon -the woman's arm. Her eyes searched the rocklike features with -anxious pleading. "Won't you please tell me? There's nothing wrong?" - -"Nothing wrong at all, dearie." Mrs. Pontifex patted the girl's hand -and smiled a flinty smile. "It means money in all our pockets, -that's what it means--aye, in yours, too! So don't think too hard of -us for running off to sea with yeou young folks until ye know all -abaout it. - -"And naow, dearie, I have to do the cooking, because that blasted -cook of ours went ashore and didn't show up again. Taking care of -your poor father has 'baout worn me daown, and I know yeou'll be -willing to look after him a bit----" - -"Of course! I meant to speak to you about it before this!" exclaimed -Florence. "If you'll show me----" - -"Come right along with me. He ain't much trouble, poor man, and it's -the least we can do to make him comfortable. If there's anything -yeou want done, too, just call steward and tell him." - -"We'll be back soon, Tom dear," said Florence, and departed with Mrs. -Pontifex. - -When the door closed, Tom Dennis sat motionless for a moment, then -raised his head. He slipped to the deck and stood upright, holding -to the bunk. A slow smile crept into his chalky features, and -presently he stretched himself luxuriantly. - -"Passing off! I'm bad, but not near so bad as I might be," he -commented audibly. "It's a good thing for me that I was raised on -the Maine coast, and know ships and the sea as well as anybody! They -don't know it, however, and Florence won't tell. Now, why the deuce -have they kidnapped us this way?" - -Frowning he sipped some cold coffee from a pot left by the steward an -hour earlier, Then he went to his huge trunk of a grip, its -telescopic sides fat almost to bursting, which lay at the head of the -bunk. - -He unlocked the big grip and opened it. Then he discarded his shirt -and collar, the same which he had worn the preceding day, and slipped -into a grey flannel shirt which he took from the suitcase. His tie -knotted about the collar, he returned to the grip and knelt above it. -Drawing forth some clothes, he threw them carelessly on the -floor--threw out more, until a pile of rumpled garments lay beside -him. Then he produced a large flat package and two small ones. He -opened these, disclosing six large phonograph records, a reproducer, -and a box of needles. Then, from within the suitcase he lifted out a -small hornless phonograph itself. He stared down at it and chuckled. - -"I told Ericksen the truth when I said I'd given that square suitcase -to the porter," he reflected, as he fitted the reproducer to the -machine. "But I didn't mention that I'd kept the things in the -suitcase." - -Just why he had done this, Tom Dennis was by no means certain, except -that his suspicions of Ericksen had never quite downed. It was very -curious that the sole baggage of the assassin had consisted of this -phonograph outfit. Bo'sun Joe's interest in the matter was also -curious; his presence in the compartment belonging to the assassin -had never ceased to trouble Tom Dennis. More than he cared to admit, -Dennis suspected that there was, or had been, some definite relation, -and by no means an unfriendly one, between Ericksen and the would-be -murderer. - -And why had that man possessed nothing except this phonograph and six -grand-opera records? Dennis wanted to try out those records. He -strongly hoped that the labels might be a blind--that the records -might have some information to convey. Did those records hold the -secret, then? - -Dennis wound up the machine, inserted a needle in the slot, and set -one of the records upon the turntable. To his complete and utter -stupefaction he found that upon the record was not a word; merely a -deep bass voice repeating the alphabet over and over in a slow and -distinct sequence! After each letter "zed", followed the numerals -from one to naught. - -One after another, Dennis tried each of the six records, patiently -listening to that maddening repetition of that alphabet. There was -positively nothing else on them! - - -At length he glanced at his watch, found that it was nearly ten -o'clock, or four bells. With no little disdain and disappointment, -he bundled the phonograph and records back into the depths of his -suitcase, and was just locking the grip when Florence entered the -cabin. - -"Are you ready, dear?" she demanded eagerly, a spot of colour in her -pale cheeks. "They're all waiting for us there in the cabin--and, -Tom! It's a company! The Hathaway Salvage Company!" - -"And what does that mean?" asked Dennis smiling as he kissed her. - -"They're going to tell us. Are you better, dear?" - -"Oh, I'm all right--able to walk, anyhow. Forward, and solve the -mystery!" - -Together they left their cabin and went aft. - -In company with Miles Hathaway and the tall scarlet geranium in the -green-striped jar, they found five people sitting around the table. -At the head was Captain Pontifex, at the foot the Missus. On one -side sat Mr. Leman, pawing his fringe of whiskers. At the other sat -Ericksen, a satanic twist to his freckled mouth as he eyed Captain -Hathaway, and at his side the black boat-steerer, Corny. - -For a wonder, Pontifex rose as Florence entered the room, the others -following his example. The skipper indicated two chairs placed -beside Leman. - -"Will you sit down, please? I have the pleasure of introducing our -officers, except Mr. Mendez, who has the deck. Mr. Leman, our second -mate; you know Ericksen, I think, and Corny. This chair, Mrs. -Dennis--thank you. I might add that we are the officers and -directors of the Hathaway Salvage Company of which I am president, -Mrs. Pontifex, treasurer; Mr. Leman, secretary--the other gentlemen -directors." - -Dennis, feeling rather helpless and bewildered, sank into the chair -beside Florence. - -"For our own protection"--the skipper twirled his moustache--"we have -been forced to maintain silence until we were at sea. Were it known -that Captain Miles Hathaway were alive, a fortune would be lost to us -all; this one fact will explain many questions which may have -perplexed you, Mr. Dennis." - -"A few things need explanation, all right," said Dennis. - -"Conceded!" The skipper smiled. "I may add that we are not bound -for the whaling grounds, and we are not upon a whaling cruise, as -everyone has imagined. For that reason we have shipped Kanakas -for'ard; they are faithful good seamen, and ask no questions. -Neither they nor the other fo'c'sle hands, of course, are in this -company of ours." - -"And what is the purpose of the company, then?" asked Florence -quickly. - -"It may be very briefly stated in one word: salvage! Your father's -ship, the _John Simpson_, was lost at sea with all hands. But the -natives who brought your poor father into Unalaska told a story of -having found him upon the shore of an island, doubtless one of the -Aleuts; and under the lee of that island they had seen a wreck in -water so shallow that her masts stuck out above the surface. That -wreck was the _Simpson_. - -"You may know that the majority of those islands are deserted, -waterless, good for nothing. Not even a Jap sealing poacher would -observe the masts of a wreck, unless by chance he came to the spot. -We may take it for granted that the _Simpson_ has never been found. -Unfortunately, the natives who brought in Captain Hathaway gave no -exact location and disappeared almost at once." - -Tom Dennis leaned forward. "But why salvage a ship that's been -wrecked? She's of no earthly good! And her cargo will belong to the -owners." - -"Not so. She has been taken off the register!" Captain Pontifex -showed his white teeth in a smile of perfect confidence. "The point -is this, Mr. Dennis: the ship was lost while _en route_ to -Vladivostok, laden with supplies for Russia. Those supplies -consisted of machine-guns almost entirely; of machine-guns and -ammunition. - -"Water will not have harmed that cargo, Mr. Dennis--or if so, only -slightly. I have taken pains to ascertain that the guns were so -wrapped as to be waterproof. The value runs up close to a million -and a half of dollars. The inference is plain, eh?" - -Tom Dennis sat back, stunned. The inference was plain indeed--a -million and a half to be had for the picking up! - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -JERRY TELLS SOMETHING - -As in a daze, Tom Dennis listened while Pontifex went on to explain -that Miles Hathaway alone knew where the _Simpson_ lay; that thus far -they had been unable to find a way to extract that knowledge from -Hathaway--just here the skipper's voice was very silky--and that they -counted upon Florence to hit upon some method of communication. - -But, the skipper hastened on, this was not the real reason for -Florence's having been fetched in person. She was the legal heir of -Hathaway, and also his guardian, under the present conditions. - -"Of course," said Pontifex blandly, "we might have gone ahead and you -would never have known about it; but we don't do business that way, -Mrs. Dennis. We want to be aboveboard and honourable in the matter. -We dared not thresh the thing out there in the harbour, for you've no -idea how curious shipping people are! A breath of suspicion as to -our real business, and we'd have been lost. So we simply ran away -with you--not a bad joke, eh? Ran away with you to make your fortune! - -"Well, to business. Our proposition is that you sign articles with -us--Mr. Dennis also, since he is your husband and we want everything -shipshape--and we'll land you at Unalaska, there to wait until we've -turned the trick. Of course, you realize that we're giving our time, -the wages of the men, the ship, and all the rest, to the venture. -We've talked over what's fair, and we think that the right thing to -do is to offer you twenty per centum of the gross proceeds of the -salvage. Is that agreeable?" - -Florence, her wide brown eyes fastened upon Tom Dennis, seemed to -await his decision in breathless eagerness. He nodded, without -speaking. - -Captain Pontifex produced a paper which must have been long prepared, -for it was typed, and handed it to Dennis. The latter glanced it -over. The writing was no more than an agreement to the terms as -Pontifex had outlined them: Dennis passed the paper to Florence. - -"Pontifex," he said slowly, "you're white in this thing! I tell you -we appreciate it. Yes, I can understand a good many things now that -weren't clear to me before. Your offer is generous. It's eminently -square. We're not rich, and if this thing goes through it'll mean a -great deal to us--and to the future comfort of Captain Hathaway." - -Florence hastily signing the paper with the fountain pen which the -skipper had handed her, shoved pen and paper at Dennis, then leaped -to her feet. An excited smile upon her lips, her great brown eyes -glowing with life and eagerness, she insisted on shaking hands with -everyone at the table. Her slender frame seemed filled with a sudden -flame of vitality. - -"You've made me so happy!" she cried, speaking then to Pontifex. -"Not the money, not alone what it will mean to us all--but your -goodness! All of you! Oh, if father could only tell you how he must -feel about it----" - -She flung her arms around Mrs. Pontifex and kissed that lady heartily. - -Up the craggy countenance of the Missus welled a slow tide of -crimson, which swiftly waned again. Corny looked at Boatswain Joe -and grinned. The deep-set, cavernous eyes of Captain Pontifex sought -the impassively watching face of Miles Hathaway--sought it with a -satiric gleam in their dark depths. Then they returned to the girl. - -"Duty is duty," he said unctuously. "We've tried to do what's right, -madam. The consciousness of having done right is a great stay in -time of trouble. We----" - -The words were cut short by an appalling scream which seemed to wail -out of the air overhead, At that scream a silence like death fell -upon the cabin. - -Corny furtively crossed himself. Mr. Leman's flat ugly face turned -quite white. Ericksen flung back his chair and was gone with a rush. -Captain Pontifex leaped to his feet and followed Boatswain Joe to the -companion. As he set foot on the ladder, the others crowding at his -heels, the brig heeled over amid a confused trampling and shouting -from above. Florence cried out in fear. - - -Manuel Mendez was helping a Kanaka at the wheel, jamming it hard -down, bringing the brig slowly about; he was bawling orders, while -all hands were trimming sail. - -"One o' dem lubbers fell off de royal yard!" bellowed Mendez at the -skipper. He did not think it necessary to explain that, as a good -joke, he had sent one of the drink-dazed white hands up to the royal, -grinning delightedly as the poor devil shivered and clung in fright -above the swimming waste of water. But another of the white men -forward had seen. - -"It was him done it!" yelled the man angrily, pointing at Mendez. -"He shifted the helm to----" - -Boatswain Joe's fist stopped the utterance, sent the man rolling into -the scuppers. - -"Get out that for'ard boat, Bo'sun!" shouted Captain Pontifex, his -voice piercing the wind as steel pierces paper. "Lively, -now--lively!" - -Tom Dennis stood at the top of the companionway, his arm about -Florence. Beside him stood the Missus, rocklike and silent. Dennis -had caught those words from forward, and seen Ericksen's blow; he -stood grimly watching, his lips compressed. - -Mr. Leman, with uncanny swiftness, joined Boatswain Joe at the -forward whaleboat. It was quickly swung out and lowered, the Kanakas -tumbling into it, Leman and Ericksen following. Behind, somewhere in -the tossing sea crests, was the black dot of a man's head. Before -the boat was half-way to it, the head had vanished. The man was gone. - -"Be a little more careful with those men, Mr. Mendez," said Pontifex, -watching the whaleboat put about and return. "We'll need 'em." - -That was all. No anger, no inquiry, no more concern over the death -of a man--the needless brutal murder of a man--than if that man had -been a wandering sea-gull. Tom Dennis drew Florence below, hoping -that she had not understood. But when he looked into her eyes, he -knew that she _had_ understood. - -"Tom, I--can't believe it!" she said faintly, horror in her wide -brown eyes. "He spoke as though--it didn't matter." - -Dennis made light of the affair. "Never mind, dear. We don't know -all the circumstances, and of course the skipper can't blame his mate -in public. It would hurt discipline. Just try and forget it, and -not refer to it." - -The girl shivered. "I can't forget that awful scream!" - -No further reference was made to the affair, beyond the skipper's -explaining, later, that an unavoidable lurch of the ship had caused -the accident. But it was long before Florence could look upon Manuel -Mendez, when he joined them at mess, without changing countenance. -There was something dreadful in the grinning calm of the black -Portuguese. His eternal good humour was ominous. - -"We mustn't let little outside matters affect us," said Tom Dennis -that same night. "The main point, Florence, so far as we're -concerned, is your father, and the way Pontifex and his company are -acting." - -"I know, Tom, dear," she said. "They've been very good." - -He sensed a constraint in her air, but put it down to the accident. - -Two days later, however, the inquietude within him, which had been -lulled to sleep by that meeting of the company, was awakened with -terrible swiftness. He had been discussing with Pontifex how to get -into communication with Miles Hathaway, and the skipper professed -himself quite helpless in the matter, leaving it entirely to -Florence's ingenuity. - -The lack of concern which Pontifex expressed struck Tom Dennis as -being unnatural, under the circumstances. But a little later, as -Dennis stood in talk with Mr. Leman, who was discussing whaling -voyages, he squinted up at the sails. - -"Better trim your yards a bit, hadn't you?" said Dennis -thoughtlessly. "Looks as if you were losing a good bit of that wind, -Mr. Leman." - -The mate started slightly. - -"Where'd you learn so much about sails, Mr. Dennis?" - -"Oh, I just picked it up," Dennis laughed. "But if you're in a hurry -to reach Unalaska, I should think you'd trim sail a bit." - -"Orders were to keep her as she is," said Leman curtly, and turned -away. - -Dennis shrugged his shoulders. It was none of his business how the -ship was run, and if Pontifex had reasons for not hurrying, well and -good. - - -Meantime, the silent and motionless Miles Hathaway sat in the cabin, -puffing sometimes at the pipe Florence filled for him, watching her -as she worked, with unmoving terrible eyes. Tom helped her take care -of him, and always it seemed to Dennis that Hathaway was mutely -struggling to express something. Once Dennis got out a chart and -attempted to locate the wreck. - -"Watch my finger, Captain Hathaway," he directed. "If I get 'warm', -as the kids used to say, open your mouth." - -The effort was fruitless, for although Dennis traced his fingers over -the entire line of the Aleuts, Miles Hathaway remained unmoving. In -the end, Dennis began to think that the man either did not -understand, or possessed a brain as dead as his body. At times, too, -the paralytic was almost unable to open his mouth or to swallow. His -lips had no independent motion. To communicate with him seemed -impossible. - -It was the third evening following the meeting in the cabin. Tom and -Florence had put Hathaway to bed, and after bidding the skipper and -his wife good night, went on deck for a breath of air. Mendez had -the deck. Wishing to avoid the black mate, Florence led the way -forward to the lee of the brick try-works. There Tom Dennis lighted -his pipe, and for a little they sat together in silence, under the -strangely soothing yet invigorating influence of the slapping sails -and the rushing foam-crested rollers that roared under the lee-rail. - -Suddenly a figure appeared coming from aft, preceded by a whimpering -sniffle. It was Jerry, the moon-faced cabin boy and he was -blubbering away with the subdued racking sobs of a boy. - -"Hello, Jerry!" said Dennis. "What's the trouble?" - -Jerry peered at them and rubbed his eyes, - -"The Missus whaled me; then he chipped in and kicked the back off'm -me, drat him!" - -"What'd you do, Jerry?" - -"Nothin' at all!" responded the boy defiantly. "The mate sent me -down to clean his cabin, an' they didn't know I was there, an' the -door was open. He says it's a hell of a note about Frenchy not -bringin' that phonygraft, and it was the best idea ever was, and she -says yes, maybe we'd better give the old son of a gun another taste -of hot iron. He says no, there ain't no need of that, because we got -the bulge on him now and he'll talk in a hurry, knowin' she's aboard, -and it's all Bo'sun's fault for slippin' up and lettin' Frenchy slip -up that way. Just then they heard me, and she whaled me and he -kicked me up the ladder. Drat him! I wisht I was off'm this old -ship!" - -Jerry passed on forward, sniffling. - - -Tom Dennis stood very still. He felt Florence draw herself up; he -caught a startled gasp from her lips; but he was thinking with a wild -sickening surety, of what the skipper had said. Frenchy--and the -phonograph! - -There was the missing link. No use disguising the facts any longer; -no use trying to cover up what was only too obvious! Frenchy--that -was the assassin; and Ericksen _had_ been in partnership with him, -there in Chicago! And Hathaway would talk now that Florence was -aboard---- - -Tom Dennis shivered suddenly. "Come, dear!" he said in a strange -voice. "Come below. I have something to tell you." - -He felt that she was sobbing softly, and halted. "What's the matter, -Florence?" - -She only shook her head, and taking his arm accompanied him to the -companionway. Dennis was alarmed by her attitude; upon reaching -their own cabin she threw her arms about him, a sudden paroxysm of -sobs shaking her whole body. Dennis could obtain no response to his -queries for a moment, until the girl suddenly looked up into his eyes. - -"I--I couldn't tell you before, Tom! I thought perhaps it had been -the wreck, and all that," she said, brokenly. "But poor father--his -feet were burned, and his arms--at least, I know now that the scars -were of burns! You heard what Jerry said. And father's eyes are -giving him a lot of trouble; sometimes he can't use them at all, and -it seems to hurt him when they're open. I--I can't dare to think -that anyone would have deliberately hurt him----" - -"Good Lord!" broke from Dennis. "It's not credible! Yet, if Frenchy -was my Chicago visitor--here, old girl, sit down! I've something to -tell you. I can't quite face the meaning of it--yet it's bound to -mean but one thing----" - -He drew the wondering sobbing girl to a chair beside him, and for the -first time told her of his strange assailant in Chicago on the night -of their departure. He connected up the links--finding Ericksen in -the man's compartment; the square suitcase and its contents--and now -the remarks of Pontifex about that phonograph, as reported by the -innocent Jerry. - -As she listened, the apprehension and grief of Florence for the -helpless and seemingly tortured father began to be absorbed in the -deep significance of the entire affair. She sat in frowning thought, -while Dennis drew from his memory the little things which at the time -he had scarce noted, but which now seemed so laden with -significance--even the strange unconcern of Pontifex over -communicating with Miles Hathaway. At this last, Florence lifted her -head. - -"I know--the same thing struck me, Tom. I was talking about it with -Mrs. Pontifex to-day; she had the air of discouraging me in the -attempt. Why? Why don't they want us to communicate with poor -father? It will be hard at best, because of his eyes; I'm going to -make up an eyewash for him until we can reach a doctor. But why -their attitude? Everything seemed so honest and so kindly at that -meeting the other day! And when I kissed Mrs. Pontifex----" - -"She blushed, by George!" snapped Dennis suddenly. "And anything -that could make that woman blush--here, let me think! Jerry gave the -whole game away to us. The clue lies in what the skipper said about -your father talking now that you were aboard----" - - -He broke off abruptly, filled and lighted his pipe, and sat staring -before him. Not for nothing had he followed the newspaper game. Not -for nothing had he been one of the best rewrite men in Chicago! He -had been trained in the business of making a whole cloth from -scattered scraps. - -"Got it! Listen here, Florence," he said suddenly. "Pontifex found -your father, and either took him to a house, where those snapshots -were made, or to this ship--no matter which. Face facts, now! All -this goody-goody talk is bluff. Pontifex was busy trying to extort -the secret of the _Simpson's_ position from your father, so he sent -Boatswain Joe to get you; and he sent that clever little assassin, -Frenchy, to get this phonograph that's in my grip--why, we don't -know. But for some reason he wanted it, and wanted it badly! - -"Ericksen did not want me to accompany you. He called in Frenchy at -the last minute to put me out of the way--and Frenchy meant murder. -There's a salient fact! How did Boatswain Joe slip up, as Pontifex -termed it? In not bringing you alone. They wanted you--alone! A -second salient fact. Why? Pontifex has said it: in order to force -your father to talk!" - -"But Tom!" broke in Florence quickly. "Father can't talk!" - -"All bluff. Pontifex can communicate with him, somehow. They simply -didn't want us to do so." - -"But that's why they wanted _me_! And then, my signature on that -paper----" - -"More bluff!" flung out Dennis. "They tortured your father--don't -shrink from it--and he would not tell the secret. They got you -aboard and sailed, knowing that for your sake, to get you out of -their power, your father would give up anything. I'm a mere -incident, an incumbrance. They're not hurrying. They want Frenchy -to reach Unalaska first and come aboard there. I'd recognize him -again, which would spoil their game at this juncture." - -"They don't mean to land us there?" She spoke steadily, but her face -was pale. - -"I doubt it. They'll try to get rid of me there. They may take you -and your father along, to be sure that they get the right position -from him. The ultimate outcome would be probably of no danger to -you--they'd sell the salvaged stuff to Japan or Canada or China, and -would land you wherever they went. They might even keep the signed -agreement--in part. They'd give you enough money to make it -inadvisable for you to start any legal proceedings, as they have your -agreement to the terms, and you'll never know how much they get for -the salvage. You understand? If your father gives them the correct -position of the wreck, you are possibly in no danger." - -"And you, Tom?" - -Dennis grinned. "They want me out of the way. They think I'll make -trouble. Well, I _know_ I will! Don't you worry about me. They'll -do nothing until Unalaska and the revenue cutter are left behind, -see? And by that time, little Tommy will have spoiled their game." - -"How?" demanded Florence, her eyes anxious. - -"Don't know yet," said Dennis cheerfully. "If I----" - -"Tom! What was it that Pontifex said to you about reading Dumas? -Why, I I know just what they got that phonograph for--oh, I wish I'd -known about it!" - -"You do? What?" - -"Don't you remember in one of the Dumas novels there was a paralytic, -and they made him blink his eyelids twice for 'No' and once for -'Yes'? I was thinking about it only this afternoon, and meant to try -it with father! And those phonograph records, with the alphabet and -numerals on them--don't you see? Play a record and father would wink -at the right letter of figure until he spelled out a word----" - -"By George!" Dennis stared at the flushed and excited girl. "By -George! You've hit it square on the head--and I never thought of it! -We'll try it to-morrow----" - -Florence leaned forward, colour glowing in her pale face, her eyes -dilated by swift excitement and resolution, yet dominated by their -strangely poised radiance. All her spirit shone in her eyes--all her -heritage of soul, her heritage of iron nature, tempered and alloyed -and refined to an almost dangerous degree by her womanhood. Tom -Dennis gazed into her eyes and wondered, as he had wondered on that -memorable afternoon when she had said: "We'll only win by daring; so -we shall dare everything!" - -"No, Tom!" she said firmly. "Not the phonograph! They must not know -that we have it, or they'll know that we suspect their whole game! -In the morning I'll corroborate your theory from father's lips--the -way that Dumas' story did. We have two or three more days until we -reach Unalaska. In that time don't dare give them any suspicion! -Watch everything; but say nothing. - -"Before we reach Unalaska we'll formulate a plan of action between -us. They have bitterly wronged us; they have lied to us; they've -tried to murder us. And we'll fight them! Do you agree?" - -Tom Dennis laughed suddenly and kissed her on the lips. - -"You bet!" he said deeply. "We'll fight!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -MILES HATHAWAY TALKS - -Close upon noon the following day, moon-faced Jerry was heading for -the after cabins, broom in hand, with intent to sweep up the mess -cabin. Manuel Mendez, who had the deck, playfully whipped out his -sheath-knife, and pretended to dive for Jerry. With a howl of -terror, the boy slashed the mate's shins with the broom-handle--a -wild blow. - -"Leave go o' me, you nigger!" he howled, as the hand of Mendez caught -his collar. - -"Who you call nigger? Me?" demanded Manuel Mendez angrily. "What -you t'ink dis ship be, huh? You say 'sir' to de mate, queeck!" - -One giant black hand encircling the boy's throat; Mendez laughed and -choked him until Jerry's face was purple. Then, having heard the -desired "sir", Mendez flung Jerry at the companionway which swallowed -him from sight. - -At the bottom of the ladder, Jerry perceived Captain Pontifex bearing -his instruments and going above for the noon observation. Jerry -sidled into the nearest cabin and hid. He knew that the Missus was -up forward in the galley, safely engaged in getting dinner. - -Thus it happened that when Florence went swiftly to the stern cabin, -and Tom Dennis stood upon the companion ladder to give her warning of -any approaching danger from above, neither of them knew that -moon-faced Jerry was fearfully waiting and listening inside the cabin -of Mendez, the door slightly ajar. And that cabin adjoined the stern -cabin. - -"Father--can you wink your eyelids once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'? -Quickly!" - -Florence stood before the immobile figure of her father, watching him -with anxious desperate eyes. The eyes of Miles Hathaway winked--very -slowly, very slightly, but very perceptibly. Was it chance or design? - -"Have you given the position of the wreck to Captain Pontifex?" -breathed the girl. Her father's eyes closed twice. A sudden glory -shone in her face, as she realized that this was no accident--that -she was communicating with her father at last! - -"You heard all that passed at the meeting here," she hurried on. -"Was he sincere in what he said? Does he mean to keep his promises -to us?" - -The eyelids of the paralytic fluttered twice. - -"Have they harmed you?" - -"Yes." - -"Can we trust anyone aboard here?" - -No answer. Evidently Hathaway was not sure upon this point. - -"Have they any intentions of harming me?" - -"Yes." - -"They have! And Tom too?" - -"Yes. Yes." Repeated, this time, manifestly for emphasis. The girl -paled slightly. - -"Will they harm us before we reach Unalaska?" - -"No." - -Tom Dennis began to whistle cheerily. Florence, who had filled her -father's pipe, put it between his lips and held a match while he -puffed. As she did so, the door behind her was flung open, and into -the cabin came Tom, propelling before him the cabin boy Jerry. - -"Heard everything you said, Florence," said Dennis, surveying the -shrinking boy. "Now, Jerry, what d'you mean by spying on us? Who -set you in there to listen?" - -"Nobody." Jerry began to blubber. "But that nigger Mendez kicked me -downstairs, and I seen _him_ comin', and I ducked in there. I didn't -mean to hear nothing honest! And I won't tell them, neither, if ye -let me go. Don't whale me!" - -"Lord, Jerry, I wouldn't hurt you!" said Dennis; but he frowned as he -spoke. He looked at Florence and gestured helplessly. If the boy -told--their game was done! - -"Jerry," said the girl, suddenly stooping and kissing the gaping boy, -"do you like Captain Pontifex?" - -"No, I don't! I hate him! And if we ever get anywhere, I'm going to -run away." - -"He hates us, Jerry. Do you want to go away from this ship with us? - -"You bet, ma'am. Can I?" - -"If you don't say a word to anyone about what you just heard. If you -do, Mr. Dennis and I will suffer, and you'll get no chance to run -away." - -"Cross m'heart, ma'am." And Jerry earnestly suited action to word. -A sudden excitement shone in his eyes. "They've double-crossed you -all the time. I know; I've heard 'em talk! They're goin' to give -you to that man Frenchy, that used to be cook. I never seen him, but -they talk about him lots." - -"All right, Jerry," said Dennis hastily. "Beat it before the skipper -comes back." - -The boy fled. Dennis looked at the flushed hurt face of Florence. - -"Give me--to that man!" she said faintly. "Oh! It--it's -impossible----" - -"Right, old girl--it's quite impossible." Dennis made a gesture of -caution, as he heard the sound of steps from the passage. "You leave -it to me, that's all. I'm sorry you heard that, Florence; but it'll -be all right. Better take that pipe from your father, or we'll -forget it. Eight bells just struck and we'd better run along to -dinner." - -The skipper entered, with a smiling nod and a twirl of his moustache. - -"Unalaska day after to-morrow, if the wind hold," he announced, his -deep-set eyes flitting from face to face as if seeking secrets there. -"All's well?" - -"All well and hungry, skipper." Dennis turned to the door. "Coming?" - -"Not for five minutes. I want to jot down these figures and work out -our position." - -During the meal which ensued, Tom Dennis marvelled at the manner in -which Florence maintained her cool poise, with never a token to -indicate the terrific ordeal to which she had so lately been -subjected. And little Jerry, his moon-face white and frightened, -served the table with an occasional adoring glance at the girl; the -danger from Jerry was palpably eliminated. - -To dare risk further conversation with Miles Hathaway would be -unadvisable, Dennis realized. Discussing the matter with Florence -that afternoon, he found all traces of excitement gone from her; she -was coolly alert, and much better poised than was Dennis himself. -Fury was so deep and strong within him that it was difficult for him -to restrain his passion; but Florence had become quite cool and -dispassionate. - -"It is quite clear, Tom," she said quietly, "that we must get father -off this ship at Unalaska. If the revenue cutter is there, you had -better interview the commander, tell exactly what has happened, and -have father placed ashore. If the revenue cutter is not there, the -port authorities----" - -"Will probably be too slow to act," put in Dennis. "And there's -another thing--this ship has diving equipment aboard, with all things -necessary for the work in hand. I want to go after the wreck of the -_Simpson_, Florence: I believe that Pontifex will be only too glad to -set us all ashore at Unalaska provided he could get the location of -that wreck." - -"But he wouldn't trust father to give him the correct location. He'd -hold us, or hold father, as hostages." - -Dennis nodded, frowningly. After a moment he rose. - -"Dear, please go to your father at once, Tell him that it is -absolutely essential that he give Pontifex the correct location of -that wreck. Tell him that I shall handle the entire matter in such a -way that Pontifex will ultimately get his just desserts; but for the -present it is necessary that Pontifex should not suspect us." - -"And you, Tom? What are you going to do now?" - -"I'm going to see the skipper--I think he's on deck. If your father -consents to do as I request, please call us at once." - -Dennis hurried out to the companion way, and ascended to the deck. - -Pontifex was there, indeed--tall and cavernous, caressing his curled -black moustache while he talked with Mr. Leman. Dennis approached -them with his heartiest manner. - -"Well, gentlemen, good news!" he said warmly. "Do you remember, -Captain, mentioning Dumas to me when we came aboard? That gave us an -idea, and I believe that Mrs. Dennis will be able to communicate with -her father. In fact, I expect her to call us down there at any -moment to get the location of that wreck. Pretty good, eh?" - -Mr. Leman rubbed his broken nose. The skipper gave Dennis a sharp -look, then forced a smile. - -"Why, certainly, Mr. Dennis! Very glad indeed to hear it. The -means?" - -"By Captain Hathaway's winking his eyes in response to certain -questions. Simple, if we'd only thought about it, eh? And, Captain, -Mrs. Dennis and I both think that when we reach Unalaska she had -better be put ashore there with her father. She's rather worried -over his condition, and she'd be able to secure comforts ashore which -can't be had here." - -Pontifex nodded absently. His pallid features looked very uneasy. - -"Then you'd go on with us?" he asked after a moment. - -"Of course!" assented Dennis heartily. "Don't you want me?" - -"You bet we do!" returned the skipper fervently, his face clearing. -"We'll need every man aboard when the work begins." - -"Good--then it's settled!" exclaimed Dennis. "When do we make Unimak -Pass?" - -"To-morrow night," spoke up Mr. Leman, and fell to discussing the -weather. - - -Five minutes later Florence appeared on deck, smiled and nodded -brightly as the two officers touched their caps, and approached them -with well-assumed eagerness. - -"I can talk with father!" she exclaimed as though the discovery were -fresh. "Come, down, gentlemen! He knows exactly what I'm saying, -Tom, and winks once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'! I asked if he'd -give us the exact location of the wreck, and he said 'yes'; so I came -to call you at once." - -"Excellent, Mrs. Dennis! I congratulate you," exclaimed the skipper. -"Mr. Leman cannot leave the deck. I'll call Mr. Mendez as we go -down. Well, well, Mrs. Dennis! Your husband was just telling us of -the method of communication. Quite ingenious, quite! By the way, -have you seen Mrs. Pontifex?" - -Mr. Leman, who entirely disregarded the conventional title of the -lady, sang out in quick response: - -"The Missus is up for'ard in the galley. Ahoy, Corny! Pass up the -word for the Missus!" - -So the word was "passed up", and the large figure of Mrs. Pontifex -appeared near the try-works as Florence descended the companion -ladder. With the Missus at the end of the procession, the others -passed on into the stern cabin, the skipper knocking at the door of -Manuel Mendez _en route_ and commanding his immediate presence. - -"Best do this all shipshape," suggested the skipper, when they stood -before and around the immobile figure of Miles Hathaway. "I'll get -out a chart, Mrs. Dennis----" - -Pontifex searched his chart locker and did not find the desired chart -until Manuel Mendez appeared, smiling his eternal and monstrous grin. -Then Pontifex produced a chart of the Aleutian Islands. - -"Now, ma'am," he addressed Florence, "while I read off the figures to -your poor old father, you stand by to watch for the answers. All -ready? Good. Let's take up the latitude first--easier to determine -the position that way. Now, is the position north of fifty-four?" - -"No," returned Florence almost at once. - -"Hm! That cuts out everything north of Dutch Harbour, eh? North of -fifty-two?" - -"No," answered Florence. - -"Good enough, ma'am. Now let's take up the longitude. West from -Greenwich?" - -"Yes." - -"Between one seventy-four and seventy-eight?" - -"No." - -"Between one seventy-eight and eighty?" - -"Yes!" exclaimed Florence. - -"Getting warm, eh?" Pontifex spoke eagerly, a tinge of red in his -pale cheeks. "Ah! It's among that clump of islands south-east of -Tanaga. Now, Mr. Hathaway, kindly follow my pencil from island to -island with your eyes, this way----" - -The skipper slowly passed the point of a pencil from one barren rock -island to another. A swift cry from Florence checked him; holding -his pencil, he gazed steadily at Miles Hathaway. - -"Is this it?" he demanded, a sudden ring of steel in his tone. "This -one--the most southerly of the rocks to the eastward of Kavalga?" - -The gaze of one and all centred upon Miles Hathaway who for a moment -met the level gaze of Pontifex with unmoving eyes. Then, slowly, -Hathaway signified "Yes". - -A deep breath filled the cabin; but the tense attitude of Pontifex -did not change. He held his eyes steadily upon those of Hathaway. -His voice came like a challenge, steely and commanding. - -"Is that the correct position, Captain Hathaway--upon your word of -honour?" - -"Yes," signalled Hathaway immediately. - -Captain Pontifex turned. He rolled up the chart and tossed it upon -the table. - -"Hathaway's word is as good as my own--and that means _good_," he -said quietly. "Now, Mrs. Dennis, am I correct in believing that you -wish to be set ashore with your father at Unalaska?" - -"Yes." Florence looked at him, smiling. "I'll be sorry to miss the -salvage work, Captain Pontifex, but I'd like to obtain medical aid -for my father, and to care for him ashore in person. He's more -important to me than any money, you understand?" - -"Of course." And Pontifex nodded. - -The Missus was watching him in unconcealed surprise, while Mendez had -ceased entirely to smile. This was their first hint about setting -anyone ashore. Pontifex caressed his moustache and glanced at them, -his deep-set eyes ironic. - -"Mrs. Dennis and Captain Hathaway shall be set ashore at Unalaska," -he said. "Mr. Dennis goes with us as their representative, to take -part in the work on the _Simpson_. I think that concludes our -meeting." - - -Five minutes later, in the privacy of their own cabin, Florence faced -Tom Dennis, her hands on his shoulders. - -"Dear, I had hard work to make father consent," she said quietly. -"But he yielded to my love and utter confidence in you. Now tell -me--why did you do it? Do you really mean to go alone with these -men, on this ship?" - -Dennis filled his pipe, stooped to kiss her lips, then struck a match. - -"I most certainly do, my dear. The chances are a thousand to one -that the revenue cutter will not be in Unalaska Bay. In that event, -you and your father will go ashore, while I shall sail with the -_Pelican_. You'll take my big grip ashore, containing that -phonograph and records. By this means your father can tell his -entire story to the proper authorities. That will take time, of -course, and it will take time to summon the revenue cutter, even by -wireless. - -"I believe that under the circumstances, I an oath can be -administered to your father in a perfectly legal manner. You know -the position of the wreck. With your father's story as a basis for -action you can go to work in a proper manner with the authorities; -whatever charges your father lays against Pontifex can be sworn to; -your own signature to the agreement with Pontifex was obtained by -fraud and deceit. - -"You understand? Do nothing in a hurry. Give us a clear two weeks -in which to get this ship loaded with the salvaged stuff. Then get -sharp quick action, file a libel, or whatever the term is to denote -an attachment of the ship. Sue Pontifex heavily in both your -father's name and in ours, and claim whatever he has salvaged in your -own name. We'll grab his ship and his salvaged stuff at one swoop, -see? While that's going through the courts, we will gut the _John -Simpson_ of all that's left in her. There's a newspaper man in -Vancouver named Margate; I'll give you cables to send off to him. -He'll doubtless be able to get backing and to charter some kind of an -old tub--and while Pontifex is in the courts with us, Margate will be -looting the _Simpson_, before the general public gets wise to where -the _John Simpson_ is lying. See?" - -The eyes of the girl were large with wonder-admiration, and delight. -Then fear struck into their depths. - -"The plan is wonderful, Tom! But you--in the meantime?" - -Dennis grinned. "Me? I'll be jollying old Pontifex along; never -fear!" - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -UNALASKA BAY - -Unalaska--at last! - -The tortuous, narrow and even precipitous passage, winding nearly two -miles amid the rocks, lay behind, and now the good ship _Pelican_ was -swinging to her anchor in front of the little town hardly more than a -village. In the little bight was no other large craft, although -several fishing boats were rocking to their moorings. - -The Arctic summer, intense and vivid as though to make up for its -brief duration, was at an end. None the less, the breeze from the -shore carried a sweet fragrance of flowers, the little town was still -radiant with blossoming gardens, and all over the hills which lay -banked around the town there were patches of gay flowers and the deep -lush green of rank grasses. - -With great care Miles Hathaway and his wheeled chair were lowered -into a boat. Tom Dennis and Florence followed, together with Captain -Pontifex, who had proffered his services in securing a place of abode -for Florence and her father. Once upon the dock, Dennis took charge -of the chair, and all three started up-town, Pontifex carrying -Dennis' big suitcase. - -"Feels good to have the solid earth underfoot again," said Dennis. -"How long do you expect to lay up here, Skipper?" - -"We'll go out with the tide to-night," returned Pontifex. "I expect -to pick up a cook here, who was to reach Unalaska by one of the -island steamers, and I want to get our mail and papers. If we can -get Mrs. Dennis comfortably berthed this afternoon, there'll be -nothing to detain us, beyond standing off her trunk." - -"Besides," he added in a lowered voice, "I'm anxious not to let the -news slip out of what we're after. Before we could get clear of the -island we'd have schooners dogging us. In case Mrs. Dennis would -like any ready money----" - -"Thank you, Captain, I need nothing," said Florence quietly. - -Little Jerry had not been allowed to come ashore, much to the -disappointment of Florence, who had been bent upon rescuing the lad. -Dennis, however, had already formulated a plan of action, largely -because he considered that the boy's testimony would be of tremendous -weight in backing up Florence when she interviewed the authorities. - -An hour later, with the afternoon half gone, Florence and Captain -Hathaway were snugly ensconced as paying guests in a cottage not far -behind the ancient Greek church. Captain Pontifex had departed on -his own business. - -"Dear, are you _sure_?" In the security of her hired room, with the -immobile Miles Hathaway watching them from his chair, Florence sought -the gaze of Tom Dennis. To him it seemed that her eye held a glowing -probe of fire, searching his very soul. - -"Remember, Tom dear, that I mustn't lose you. You're my one sure -strong anchor in the world; your love and you are necessary to me," -she said steadily. "So are you sure? Are you sure that the best -plan would not be to stop here ashore and have Pontifex placed under -restraint--here and now? - -"Are you sure that we had not best let the thought of money and -salvage go for the present, placing our own lives and safety first of -all? Are you sure you can come back to me, my dear?" - -Despite the brave soul of her, at those last words her voice faltered. - -"Dear wife, I am sure," said Dennis simply. "I shall play the game -safely, letting them suspect nothing of what I know, and before any -crisis occurs you will have acted. Two weeks--remember!" - -"And you think Pontifex will suspect nothing if Jerry disappears -to-night?" - -"He would not consent to leave you and your father here together, -knowing that you can communicate, if he suspected anything. He will -think that Jerry has run away, and will doubtless figure on picking -up the boy when he returns--he'll be too anxious to reach the _John -Simpson_ to bother about suspicions. It has not occurred to him that -you would ask your father any questions out of the ordinary, and -certainly your father cannot tell anything of what has happened -unless asked. You have the phonograph and records in that valise, so -go ahead and don't worry about me, dear. I'll play my part." - -"Agreed, dear." She leaned forward and held up her face to his. -"Then let's leave father here, and go out to see the town; we'll -spend our last hours together, before you go, and you can arrange -about poor little Jerry." - - -An hour afterward, a grizzled old fisherman was listening to Tom -Dennis and shaking his head in stubborn negation. - -"Not me, sir!" he affirmed with emphasis. "I dassn't run around the -harbour without no light----" - -"But your lantern might go out for five minutes!" - -"Not mine, sir. Besides, helpin' a feller escape from a whaler ain't -no jokin' matter! Fact it ain't. I'd like to earn the money all -right, but I dassn't buck up ag'in the law." - -Florence gave her husband a meaning glance. - -"Tom, please let me speak to him in private a moment!" - -Shrugging his shoulders, Dennis walked away. As he strode up and -down, he saw that Florence was speaking very earnestly, and that the -grizzled fisherman seemed very uneasy. But presently the fisherman -grinned and nodded, shaking hands with Florence. He had agreed. - -"What on earth did you say to him?" demanded Dennis, as they were -walking away. - -"Oh, I made it clear that he'd be doing a good deed--that's all." A -ripple of laughter danced like sunlight across her face. "Why, from -what you said, the poor man thought he would be compounding a felony!" - -Dennis chuckled. "I guess a man would be willing to compound -anything, if you'd smile at him and beg him to do it! Well, you're -right about the good-deed part of it, and I'm glad it's settled. -Let's look up some supper ashore; then I'll go aboard ship." - -The skipper had promised to send a boat ashore for Dennis; so, when -darkness was beginning to fall, he hailed the brigantine from the -dock, Florence at his side. Five minutes later a whaleboat was -pulling in, with Ericksen in the stern. - -"Good-bye, my dear, and God bring you back safely," said Florence -softly, as she kissed him good-bye. - -Dennis answered with a reassuring smile. "You've got my little -flash-light, haven't you?" - -"Everything as planned, my heart. Good-bye!" - -Dennis climbed down into the boat which swept around and headed back -to the brig. Florence stood on the dock, watching. She exchanged a -final wave of the hand before the boat swept out of sight under the -counter of the _Pelican_; then she turned and slowly walked in to the -shore. - -There, however, she remained, in the shadow of the long warehouses -already piled high with bone from other whaling ships. Darkness -closed down upon the bay, and the lights of the little town began to -glimmer and gleam under the hills. Out on the water the lamps of the -_Pelican_ showed red and white in the gloom. - -Had the cook, Frenchy, come aboard? Florence did not know. She knew -that Tom Dennis was there, among men who indubitably meant him no -good; whether his would-be assassin had reached Unalaska in time to -join the ship, she knew not. She waited, shivering a little, until -by degrees the red side-light vanished. Presently the lights showed -green and white--and she knew that the tide was on the ebb, that the -ship had swung about to her cable. There was a light breeze, but -strong enough to carry the brig to sea. - - -Suddenly a flare lighted up the forward deck of the whaler. The -voice of Bo'sun Joe drifted over the water with strange sweetness, -joined by the voices of other men and interjected by the guttural -utterances of Kanakas trying to keep tune; while the clicking pawls -and the slowly shifting lights betrayed that the anchor was coming up: - - "We cracked it on, on a big skiute, - _To me hoodah, to me hoodah_! - We cracked it on, on a big skiute, - _Hurrah for the Black Ball line_! - Blow, my bullies, blow, - For California oh! - There's plenty of gold - As I've been told, - On the banks of the Sacramento-o!" - - -Meantime, the capstan chantey was being drowned by other voices--the -steely ring of Pontifex, the roar of Manuel Mendez, the shriller -tones of Corny and others as orders were repeated and the topsails -were set. The confusion of voices became more pronounced. - -"Hurry up with that royal!" came the voice of Pontifex. "Leggo that -lee-brace and trim--hurry up!" - -"Aye, sir!" - -"Head-sails and spanker ready sir," came the voice of Leman. "Anchor -a-trip!" - -Then a confused medley of orders: - -"Brace round them head-yards! Cat your hook and shake out those -courses! ... Aft with that sheet, now. Shake a leg! ... Bo'sun, haul -out that bowline!" - -"Aye, sir! Haul out the bowline!" - - - Haul upon the bowline, Kitty lives at Liverpool, - _Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul_! - Haul upon the bowline, Kitty lives at Liverpool, - _Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul_! - - -Breathless, Florence watched and listened. Would Tom succeed without -trouble? Would the plan, dangerous at best, succeed in getting -little Jerry safe ashore? The ship's lights were slowly moving now, -moving toward the entrance of that winding, precipitous passage. -Captain Pontifex was in charge himself, for the passage demanded -sharp tacking and skilful handling; his steely voice carried back -across the light wind, across the silence of the northern night. -Florence strained her eyes into the darkness. The time was at hand, -now. - -"Ready about! Down your helm, there! Hard-a-lee!" Florence could -picture the big spanker-boom hauled in, the head-sheets slackening -off; the lights showed that the brig was coming up into the wind, -"Tacks and sheets! Maintops'l haul! Round with them after-yards, -there! Fore-bowline, let go an' haul!" - -Not ten minutes were consumed in the manoeuvre, for the _Pelican_ was -smartly handled. To the watching Florence, however, that ten minutes -seemed an eternity. The voices lessened in the distance; the -whaler's lights became tiny glimmering points as she slowly slid away -and was gone. - -Suddenly, down on the surface of the water, appeared a tiny -pin-point--a flash of light that was gone instantly. It flashed -again, and again vanished. From the watching girl came a deep -breath--a sigh of almost agonized relief, as the tension which was -holding her was swiftly relaxed. - -After this, nothing. The _Pelican_ was gone in the winding channel, -although snatches of song drifted back as Bo'sun Joe led the chanteys -that fetched her about on new tacks. Over the water lay darkness and -silence; from somewhere back in the town a tiny phonograph lifted a -tinkling piece of band music into the night. - - -Florence walked out upon the dock, still trembling beneath the -nervous strain of those moments. Five minutes passed--five -intolerable dragging minutes. Then from the water she caught the -drip and splash of muffled oars, and she called out softly. - -"All right, ma'am!" came the hoarse response. A dim shadow loomed -up, and the voice of the grizzled fisherman continued: "Thought -better not to show no light at all, ma'am. Ain't so likely to get -questions asked----" - -"You got him?" - -"Aye. Can you give him a hand, ma'am? The lad's mortal cold----" - -Florence leaned down and gripped an icy hand. - -"Golly, I sure thought my legs was froze!" came the chattering voice -of Jerry. With all her surprising strength, the girl heaved; and he -came up beside her. "Scared stiff, I was!" - -"They've gone." Florence turned and took the horny hand of the -fisherman. "Thank you," she said simply. "I think Mr. Dennis wanted -me to give you this----" - -"Sho', ma'am, I don't want no money for that!" protested the other. -But Florence forced the money upon him, and, with a last handshake, -urged Jerry away toward warmth and dry clothes. - -By this time the boy's teeth were chattering so that talk was -impossible. Upon reaching her own cottage, where Florence had -already engaged a room for Jerry, she gave him a spare suit of old -clothes which Dennis had left for him, and left him to change. - -"Be quick!" she exclaimed, as she departed. "I want to know all -about it!" - -"Y-y-yes, ma'am," chattered Jerry. - -Ten minutes later, partially warmed and clad in dry clothes, Jerry, -moon-faced and sheepish, stumbled into the room where Florence sat -beside her immobile father. The eyes of Captain Miles Hathaway dwelt -upon Jerry. - -"Come here by the fire." Florence set him in a chair beside the -oil-stove that warmed the room. "Now, tell me! Did everything go -all right?" - -"Yes'm, I guess so." Jerry grinned. "That is, far's I know it did, -for _me_. You see, Mr. Dennis, he told me what to do. So just 'fore -they called all hands, I messed things up in the galley consid'able, -and the new cook----" - -"The new cook came, then?" interjected Florence, a little pale. - -"Yes'm. Frenchy, they called him. So him and the steward tailed on -the lines, with the rest, and the Missus, she was mad as an ol' cat -about the galley bein' messed up, and so she come to 'tend to it, and -I slipped down into the cabins and met Mr. Dennis. He had the stern -window open, and he give me that electric lamp and a life-buoy what -he'd snaked down from the stern-rail after dark. - -"So I got the life-belt 'round me an' clumb out the window and hung -on the line that Mr. Dennis had made fast, and waited till he give me -the word. Golly, I was scared! The skipper, he was right up there -over my head, and he was talkin' with Frenchy, and he says: 'There's -no call for you to get mad, Dumont. You get rid of her husband first -like you'd ought to of done back in Chicago.' And Frenchy, he says, -'Where is he?' The skipper, he says, 'Down below I guess, but don't -do nothin' now because I figger on sending him down in a divin'-suit -when we get started to work.' Then they both laughed, and just then -Mr. Dennis, he give me the word to swing off----" - -"Had he heard them talking?" demanded Florence, white-lipped. - -"Naw. He didn't know they was talking up there at all; he'd been -standin' back from the window a piece, I guess. I was scared they'd -hear him give me the word, but they didn't. So I slid down into the -water and the ol' ship walked right away and nobody seen me. Tell -you what, it was cold! I flashed the light a couple o' times, then -the old guy give me a hail and come alongside and took me in. Golly, -but I was glad!" - -Florence sat motionless, a deathly pallor upon her face. In the -boy's report she glimpsed utter and horrible destruction of all the -plans which she and Tom Dennis had built up. The whole ghastly truth -had flashed upon her, through the words of Pontifex which Jerry had -overheard--and which Dennis had not overheard. - -They would send Tom down in a diving-suit; and no one could tell what -had happened under the sea in the green depths! Florence knew that -she would not dare to put through her share of the scheme, after -this. She might succeed, but only after Tom Dennis had perished. - -"Go along to bed, Jerry," she muttered, her lips white. The boy -looked at her, and with fear upon his face, rose. He stumbled away -and was gone. - -Florence met the motionless dead gaze of her father. - - -"You know what it means, father?" she said, her voice lifeless. "It -means that they'll murder him! If I stop here, he'll be lost! We -can't get the revenue cutter here before another week, because the -wireless station is closed down--the operator's sick. We found that -out this afternoon. And, father, Tom matters more to me than--than -anything else!" - -The eyes of her father slowly moved. "Yes!" - -"No time for the phonograph now; I'll have to give up our whole -scheme of action." Florence drew a deep breath. "I'll have to warn -Tom, father; the only way to warn him will be to follow the _Pelican_ -and--and do it openly. I know where the wreck lies. - -"That fisherman who brought in Jerry--I know where he lives. His -boat has a motor, and he says he often cruises among the islands. I -think he'll take me. Anyway, there's no larger boat here than his. -I must see him to-night, at once, and arrange to get off in the -morning. I'll see the authorities, explain about the phonograph, and -you can tell them all about it while I'm gone. Perhaps they can get -help to us. If that fisherman will take me, maybe we can get Tom -away before----" - -She broke into low sobs. She could see only disaster ahead--and duty -to the man whom she loved. Suddenly she leaned forward, caught her -father's lifeless hand. - -"Father! You know all about this place, and everything! Tell me! -Is there anything else I can do? If there is, I'll get out the -phonograph now. Is there?" - -Slowly the lids of Miles Hathaway moved twice. "No." - -"And you think I'm right to go? It's the only thing to do? We'll -lose everything, for Pontifex will loot the wreck and be gone before -we could get back here and have the cutter after him. But isn't it -the only thing to do?" - -"Yes," said the eyes of Miles Hathaway. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE WRECK - -From Unalaska to the position indicated upon the chart as the -resting-place of the _John Simpson_ was, in the rough, six hundred -knots--nearly seven hundred miles. - -When Tom Dennis wakened, the morning after the _Pelican_ tacked out -of the Unalaska channel, he found that she had, with the audacity of -all whaling ships, run through Unimak Pass in the dark and was now -tearing across the North Pacific at an eight-knot clip, with a stiff -south-easter rolling her along bravely. - -Dennis realized full well that he must avoid all appearance of -suspicions having been awakened in him. When at breakfast Mrs. -Pontifex remarked upon the blessed relief of having the cook aboard, -Dennis quite ignored the subject therefore, conscious that Ericksen -was watching him with keen and predatory gaze. - -"And when shall we make that position, Skipper?" he asked. - -Pontifex shrugged. "If this breeze holds, it's a three-day run for -us. Barring a dead calm, we'll be on the spot--let's see, this is -Saturday; we'll be on the spot Tuesday morning without fail. Eh, Mr. -Leman?" - -"Easy, sir. Had we better overhaul that diving-tackle, sir?" - -"Yes. Break it out to-day. Bo'sun Joe, rig up a derrick for'ard -to-day; chances are we'll be able to lay close enough to the wreck to -swing the stuff directly aboard, and we'll not want to waste time. A -south-easter might lay us up on those islands. Ever been diving, Mr. -Dennis?" - -Dennis nodded. "Twice. Never at sea, but in Lake Michigan." - -"Then we'll have a new sensation for you, if you like." Pontifex -smiled cruelly. - -"Bo'sun Joe and I are the only ones aboard with any experience, and -if you care to take a shift with us, we'll be glad." - -"I'm in for anything that'll make me useful," said Dennis. "You -think the wreck is still on the rocks where we can reach it, then?" - -"We're gambling on it," returned Pontifex curtly. - -The wind held, and the old whaler blew down the miles of westering -with every stitch of canvas taut as a drumhead. That afternoon Tom -Dennis got a good straight look at the new cook--a most disreputable -little man, dirty and slouchy in the extreme. Gone were the trim -mustachios, gone was all the natty air; but the man was the same who -had spilled a vial of chloroform in the Chicago room of Tom Dennis. -There was no doubt about it. - -Dennis, however, said nothing; later, when Corny introduced the cook -as Frenchy, he shook hands and was very pleasant, and if Dumont -suspected anything, his suspicions were set at rest by Dennis' air of -careless non-interest. - -Upon the following day the brigantine was still tearing along with a -swirl of water hissing under her counter. Off to the north the -islands showed their mountain-tips against the sky, blue and -continuous as some distant mainland. Talking with the mates and -boat-steerers and Kanakas, Tom Dennis was entertained with many -stories of those islands: how fox- and seal-farmers were scattered -through the group; how small launches cruised the entire length of -the island chain with impunity; how in time to come there would be a -thriving island population where now were empty stretches of land or -scattered communities of miserable natives. - -And there were other and more ominous tales: tales of Boguslav and -Katmai, of islands that came and went overnight, of oil-soaked -whalers caught under descending showers of hot ash and burned to the -water's edge. There were tales of seal-poaching, of poachers who -fought each other, of Yankees who fought Japs; and these tales verged -upon the personal. Nods and winks were interchanged when Bo'sun Joe -told about "men he had known", or when black Manuel Mendez related -exploits of which "he had heard". Tom Dennis gained some fine -material for feature-stories--but it worried him. He began to -realize that these men among whom he had fallen were, so far as their -natures were concerned, no better than pirates. - -Then, upon the evening of the second day, came the affair which -proved that all restraint was now loosed. - - -Darkness was falling, and having no particular longing for the -society of the Missus and Pontifex, in the stern cabin, Dennis was in -the waist near the try-works, listening while Corny spun a whaling -yarn to the watch. The yarn was broken into by a sudden choking cry, -followed by an excited call in Portuguese. The voice was that of -Manuel Mendez who would take the deck from Mr. Leman in a few moments. - -At sound of the cry, Corny whipped out his knife and was gone like a -shadow. Dennis was the first to follow, darting after the black -boat-steerer toward the windward side of the deck, whence the voice -had come. - -An instant later, Dennis had turned the corner of the try-works. -What had happened he could not tell; but he saw the huge figure of -Manuel Mendez hanging to the mizzen-shrouds, groaning faintly. Close -by, the insignificant little cook was facing the glittering knife of -Corny--facing it with bare hands. - -Corny, growling savage Cape Verde oaths, leaped. Swift as light was -Frenchy, darting in and out again, sweeping the knife aside, striking -catlike. Corny staggered back. - -At that instant Mr. Leman swept upon the scene, his grey wisps of -hair flying, his long arms flailing. Frenchy, not hearing him, was -knocked headlong into the galley and fell with a tremendous crashing -of pots and pans. - -"He keel Manuel!" cried out Corny, retreating from the second mate -and putting up his knife. "He mos' get my eyes--ah, de poor Manuel!" - -The giant figure of the bearded black fell limply. Dennis retreated, -feeling sick; for Manuel Mendez had been stabbed with his own -knife--after his eyes had been gouged away. Even for sea-fighting, -there was something horrible about it. - -Later, Dennis came upon the steward and two of the miserable white -sailors talking near the forecastle scuttle. The steward was -describing what had happened. - -"Joked 'im, the mate did; chaffed 'im abaht some woman. Bli' me! -Frenchy was hup and at 'im like this." And the Cockney held the two -first fingers of his right hand forked and aloft. "Tried to jerk at -'is knife, 'e did, but Frenchy hup an' took if first--ugh! 'Orrible -it was. And now the Capting, 'e'll 'ang Frenchy." - -Somebody guffawed in the darkness. - -"Hang Frenchy? Not him! Frenchy an' the Skipper have sailed -together for years, they tell me. Hey, mates?" - -"You bet," came a response. "Skipper don' dast hang _him_, I guess." - -To Dennis it was rankly incredible; but it was true. In the morning -Manuel Mendez, who would smile no more his white-toothed hungry -smile, was sent overside with a chunk of coal sewed at his feet; and -as the body was committed to the deep, Frenchy leaped to the rail and -sent a bucket of slush over the canvas. An old whaling custom, this, -to keep the dead man's ghost from following the ship. But Frenchy -remained untouched for his crime. If there were any inquiry or -punishment, Dennis never heard of it. The ship's routine pursued its -usual course, Ericksen being advanced to the position of second mate, -Leman to that of first mate. - -One man aboard, however, did not forget the happening; and this was -Corny, the compatriot of the murdered mate. More than once, Dennis -saw Corny's eyes follow Frenchy about the deck with a black, -murderous look. - - -These things, however, swiftly were forgotten in the rumoured -vicinity of the wreck; and since everyone aboard either knew, or had -guessed, the import of this strange cruise, the ship hummed like a -beehive with speculation and gossip. At noon, with the remarkable -keenness which distinguishes whaling skippers, Captain Pontifex -completed his observations and then laid out a new course, stating -that it would bring them under the lee of the island at four bells in -the morning watch, at which time the brigantine was to be hove to and -await daylight. - -Tom Dennis was the only one aboard, except Captain Pontifex and the -Missus who did not sleep by watches. At dinner that night the -skipper broached a bottle of wine, and sent forward a tot of grog for -all hands; suppressed excitement ruled the ship, even the gentle -Kanakas breaking into wild native songs until suppressed by the -Skipper's order. After an evening of much talk, mainly about the -various methods of raising sunken treasure, Dennis turned in. - -With the morning came disenchantment. Dennis had dreamed of gold-mad -sailors, of wild haste, of everything forgotten save the proximity of -sudden riches. But once on deck he found things very different. The -_Pelican_ was standing across the end of a barren rocky island; just -beyond and ahead of her was a long scooped-out depression in the -rocky shore, and in the centre of this depression lay the wreck of -the _Simpson_. The seamen were attending strictly to their positions -and duties; there was no hilarious ring of voices, and everything was -about as romantic as a visit to a coaling-station. - -But the _John Simpson_ was there--no doubt about it! - -Her stern, apparently wedged in among a nest of rocks, stood up at a -sharp angle, the deck not quite awash but running down into the water -swiftly. The aftermast stood a broken stump. At some distance -showed the foremast, likewise broken. Dennis turned to Pontifex and -the Missus who stood beside him. - -"That foremast seems a long distance away," he said. "Doesn't look -natural." - -"Broke in two," vouchsafed the Missus curtly. Pontifex nodded. - -"That's it," he stated with conviction. "Fore part lays in deep -water--eight or ten fathom, probably. Look at her stern. See the -water a-drip? She's well covered at high tide: just now the tide's -out. No wonder she broke!" - -"Looks as if we'd anchor right close to her fore-hatch," said the -Missus. - -Ericksen, with a whaleboat and hand-line, was engaged in taking -soundings of the position. Suddenly a savage exclamation escaped -Pontifex who had been scrutinizing the visible stern of the wreck -through a pair of binoculars. - -"Take charge, Mr. Leman," snapped the skipper, then lifted his voice. -"Corny! Lower away--four hands will be enough to row us in. Come -on, Mr. Dennis!" - -As Corny's crew leaped to the falls of a forward boat, Pontifex -strode forward, his thin face murderous. Dennis followed him in -amazement. - -"What's the trouble, Skipper?" - -"Come on," responded Pontifex snarlingly. "I'm not sure yet--but if -it's true----" - -Seeing that the Skipper was in no mood for questions, Dennis said -nothing further but followed into the whaleboat. Four Kanakas gave -way at the long oars, and the boat began to slide landward. Pontifex -studied the wreck through his binoculars a moment, then handed the -glasses to Dennis. - -"Look at it--on the mainmast!" - -Puzzled, Dennis focused on the stump of the mainmast. High up, so -high as to be well beyond reach, he discerned a small object; it -looked like a bit of board nailed to the mast. - -"Is that writing on it?" he exclaimed, lowering the glasses. - -Pontifex nodded sourly. "Probably. We'll soon see." - -Boatswain Joe's boat, which had finished its survey and was heading -for the ship, passed within hail. Pontifex transmitted word to Mr. -Leman by Ericksen, ordering the _Pelican_ laid as close alongside the -fore-hatch of the wreck as the depth would allow. Bo'sun Joe -reported that the fore-part of the _Simpson_ lay in nine fathoms, -with fair holding-ground for the anchors, and that the whaler could -crowd alongside her easily. - -As their boat drew in, Tom Dennis could see that the stern of the -wreck must indeed be completely submerged at low tide; this was -attested by the barnacles and weedy growths covering the rails and -decking. But it was the square bit of plank nailed to the mast which -drew his gaze and that of the Skipper. - -"Ah!" cried Pontifex, with a furious oath. "Look at that, Dennis! A -painted sign!" - -Taking the glasses, Dennis could indeed make out that the board -appeared to bear words or characters--and to his eye they were -Japanese. At this query, the skipper swore again. - -"Aye, the yellow scum! They swarm around the islands, raiding -fox-farms and poaching or trading according as they dare. One of -their boats happened along here, blast the luck, and saw the wreck; -posted a sign to warn off their own countrymen, and went for help. -They came at high water and didn't wait for ebb tide. Notice where -that sign is, up there? Way enough, Corny; we don't want to board -her." - -The boat swung around on idle oars, twenty feet from the rocks that -held the stern of the _Simpson_. Dennis scrutinized the board -carefully, then handed the glasses to Pontifex. - -"It's tough luck, Skipper," he said quietly. "To think that she lay -here undiscovered for over two years, then was found only a week or -so before we came!" - -"A week?" Pontifex stared at him with flaming eyes. "How d'ye know -that?" - -"Focus up on those nail-heads in that board. They're rusty, of -course, but the rust hasn't gone into the wood around them--see? And -the black paint on the board looks pretty glossy when the sunlight -catches it right." - -"Right you are!" commented the Skipper with a growl. - -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"_Do_ about it!" Pontifex looked venomous. "Fight, by the lord -Harry! This is salvage. Whoever can hold hardest, gets. Let me get -the old brig anchored in here, and I'd like to see any dirty yellow -poachers pry my fingers loose!" - -Dennis remembered the big gun-rack in the cabin, and said no more. -Rifles can be used for other purposes than killing seals and bears. - -"We'll be all snug by breakfast-time," added Pontifex, watching the -_Pelican_ come slowly in as her top canvas fluttered down. "Then -we'll set to work _pronto_. We don't want a gale to catch us here, -either. More likely to catch fog, anyway." - -And the skipper made good his words. Before seven bells were struck -at 7.20 that morning* the _Pelican_ was berthed alongside the fore -half of the _Simpson_ and all was made snug below and aloft. Captain -Pontifex called all hands and made an address. - - -* Usually struck at this time so the relieving watch may breakfast -first. - - -"The Japs have been here, and they'll be back," he said curtly. -"There's salvage money ahead of everybody, men, so we're going to -pitch in and work day and night, watch and watch. The day watches -will devote themselves to getting the stuff aboard, because a diver -can't remain down very long in this water: all hands will have a -chance at going down. The night watches will stow the stuff below -and make a clear deck before morning. - -"While we're lying here, we'll redistribute the watches. Mr. Leman -and Mr. Ericksen will take the port watch, I'll take the starboard -watch with Mr. Dennis and Corny. One man from each watch will be set -ashore--that high point of rock makes a better lookout perch than the -crosstrees--to watch for the approach of any craft whatever. And -mark this, men! If you don't report back to the beach when the -watches are changed, I'll come ashore and hunt you down with a -shotgun! That's all. The starboard watch will keep the deck." - -Did the port watch go below? Not yet! Breakfast was a formality, a -hurriedly bolted affair; ten minutes later one of the four white -seamen was set ashore as lookout, and the Skipper fell to work. - -"You'll mind the pumps my watch, my dear," said Pontifex to the -Missus. "When I'm down, I'll trust nobody else to watch my air -supply. Do you want to go down, Mr. Dennis?" - -"You bet," and Dennis laughed. "I'd like nothing better!" - -A complete double set of diving apparatus was already awaiting them. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE ENEMY COMES - -The water was cold--cold and clear and biting as ice. To Dennis, -inside the rubber suit, it seemed as though he had been plunged -bodily into liquid ice. Through the thick glass of the helmet he -could see the green translucence all around him, clear and empty and -shimmering with the sunlight from above. For himself, as for the -other green hands at the work, he knew that a long submersion would -be impossible. - -Darker grew the water underfoot as the light from above was diffused -to the greater depths. Dennis had gone down from the quarter-deck of -the _Pelican_; this, according to the soundings, would bring him to -the sea-floor at the after end of the front half of the wreck. He -could thus see whether the contents of the _Simpson's_ main-hold, aft -of which she had broken in two, lay piled upon the sea-floor between -the two sections of the wreck. If so, the work of salvage would be -greatly hastened. Pontifex, in the meantime, was exploring the bows -and fore hatch of the wreck. - -Down went Tom Dennis into the depths, in a seemingly interminable -descent. Suddenly a huge shadowy black mass seemed rushing at him -from below, and swift terror sent his heart throbbing; for he felt -very helpless. Then he remembered--the wreck, of course! The -regular "click-click" of the pumps, sounding down through his -air-valves, reassured and heartened him. An instant later he stood -upon the bottom. - -He wondered that there was very little growth or algae to obstruct -him, until he realized that what little algae he could see were -bending far over in the grip of a fairly strong sub-surface current, -which, combined with the intense coldness of the water, had a -discouraging effect upon marine growths. The bottom was not smooth, -however, being extremely rocky and uneven. - -The _Simpson_ had apparently broken just abaft the engine-room, and -the fore half lay with her sloping deck toward the shore. Dennis had -come to the bottom close to her keel, and he was no long time in -discovering that spilled over the sea bottom lay almost enough cargo -to fill up the _Pelican_. - -Having brought a line ready prepared, Dennis got the bight around a -packing-case plastered with barnacles. As he was drawing it taut, -came a jerk upon his lifeline--the signal that his agreed "stint" was -up. Having no wish to be crippled or laid on the sick list, Dennis -responded, and at once was hauled off the bottom. - -His ascent was very slow, and of necessity; for a quick jerk up from -the depths would ruin any man alive. The progression had to be -gradual and halting. - -On the way up, it occurred to him for the first time that he was -literally in the hands of his enemies! - -The moment he was in the morning sunlight again, Tom Dennis forgot -his uneasiness and laughed at the terror which had seized upon him in -the depths. It was absurd. - -He did not go down again that morning, however. - - -Dennis was nearly clear of his diving-suit before the Skipper's -copper helmet broke the water amidships. Pontifex reported that the -bow plates of the wreck were torn out, and he had lined two cases; -these were brought in, together with that which Dennis had secured, -and were at once smashed open. The two cases from the fore hold -proved to contain ammunition; that from the main hold, two -excellently packed machine-guns. - -This was enough for Pontifex, who at once conjectured that the main -and after holds of the _Simpson_ had contained the bulk of the -machine-guns, the most valuable part of her cargo. Corny at once -broke out a kedge, lowered it to the stern of his boat and hung it -there by a stop to the ring, then started off to the stern of the -_Simpson_. Once laid among the rocks in the shallower water there, -the crew tramped around the capstan while Bo's'n Joe lifted "Windy -weather! Stormy weather!" into a resounding chorus. - -At last it was done. The _Pelican_, all reconnaissance over, lay -snugly ensconced between the two sections of the _John Simpson_. The -off watch went below, curiosity appeased by the barnacled unromantic -packing-cases; and Captain Pontifex fell to hard work, going down -again almost at once. - -Dennis took charge of the after pumps, while the Missus herself took -the wheel of those in the waist. The Kanakas, only prevented from -diving naked by the depth and the icy coldness of the water, were -eager to try the diving-suits. As each man went down in turn, he -carried four lines, making them fast to as many cases. Thus, despite -the brief diving spells, in no long time the cases began to come -aboard as fast as they could be handled. - -When the watch knocked off at eight bells, noon, Dennis was amazed by -the number of cases which had come aboard. He was dead tired, also; -the constant strain of watching the pump gauges and keeping the air -at exactly the right pressure was no light one, and at odd moments he -had tailed on to the lines with the other men. - -"I see you're no greenhorn," commented Pontifex at dinner, with a -sharp glance at the hands of Dennis. "Where'd you learn to keep your -thumb clear while hauling a line?" - -"Oh, I've knocked around ships a little," Dennis laughed. "Are you -going to stay in this position?" - -"Yes. If the Japs come, we're fixed to keep 'em off both ends of the -wreck. Well, think you can go down again this afternoon?" - -Dennis nodded. "Sure! I'm supposed to have a bad heart, but I -haven't noticed it." - - -As it chanced, however, he did not go down again that day, for during -Mr. Leman's watch the after airhose developed a leak which had to be -fixed, and the second apparatus was consequently out of business -until the following morning. Pontifex, who took the first dog-watch, -kept the one suit hard at work, and all aboard were well satisfied -with results. - -That night, by the light of a huge flare set atop the try-works, the -cargo was stowed. Shears had to be run up over the hatchways to -handle the heavy cases, and the deck was not washed down until just -before the morning watch. When Dennis came on deck at 4 a.m. the -ship was incased in so heavy a fog that the lookout was withdrawn -from the island. - -"Dis fog, maybe she keep up a week," grumbled Corny, overhauling the -diving lines. "If de Jap sheep come, den look out!" - -The stern of the wreck, which had been hidden at high tide, was again -being uncovered. So thick was the fog that Dennis doubted the -possibility of diving, but his doubts were soon set at rest. Corny -and the skipper, each carrying lines, made a descent, and Corny -returned with word that it was a "cinch". - -Pontifex was still down, and Dennis was preparing to get into the -suit as Corny vacated it, when of a sudden the voice of the Missus -bit out from the waist. - -"Keep quiet, all hands! Listen!" - -Astonished, Dennis obeyed. Corny, beside him, stood with hand cupped -to ear, slowly shaking his head. Nothing was to be heard, The fog -was impenetrable. - -"What did she hear?" murmured Dennis. The Cape Verde man shook his -head. - -"No telling. But nobody don't fool _her_--ah! Listen, queek!" - -Dennis heard it then--an indistinct and muffled vibration, too slight -to be called a noise, which was felt rather than heard. It came -again and again, an irregular sound. - -"It's de sail," said Corny. "De sail flap-flap in de wind--and -dere's somet'ing else goin', too----" - -"A boat's engine!" exclaimed Dennis softly. - -"Yeou, Corny!" The Missus gave swift command aft. "Call all hands -aft an' tell Mr. Leman to fetch the rifles. Lively yeou!" - -Meantime, she was bringing Pontifex aboard, manifestly against his -will, as the signal-line testified. Dennis kicked out of the rubber -suit, getting clear just as Bo's'n Joe came up the companion way. A -moment later both Leman and Corny appeared, each with an armload of -rifles interspersed with shot-guns. - -"Strike me blind!" exclaimed Ericksen, pausing beside Dennis, and -listening intently. "If it ain't them Japs--a schooner, likely, -beatin' up for the island under power, and all hands too lazy to take -in sail! Aye, that's them." - -"But it may be someone else," said Dennis. "A fisherman, perhaps." - -Bo's'n Joe gave him a look of pitying scorn from his uptwisted eye. -"You wait an' see!" - - -Rifles were served out to all aboard, Dennis among the rest, and by -the time Captain Pontifex was up and out of his suit, the ship was -ready for defence. Pontifex heard the news without comment; a rifle -under his arm, he dispatched Corny to the crosstrees to keep watch -from there, and ordered Mr. Leman to stand by with a megaphone. - -"Growin' closer, sir," volunteered Ericksen. "Takin' soundings, she -is." - -The skipper nodded. The fog-muffled thrum of an engine was now -distinctly perceptible, while the slatting of sails told that the -approaching craft was not far off. The fog was thick and steady -without a breath of wind to thin it out. - -"All right, Mr. Leman," said Pontifex suddenly. "Let 'em have it." - -Instantly the stentorian tones of Mr. Leman, intensified a -thousandfold by the megaphone, blared out upon the fog. - -"Stand off or ye'll run us down, ye lubbers! Keep away!" - -From the mist came a shrill thin yell of surprise, followed by an -excited jabbering of many tongues. Clearly the visitors were of -foreign origin. Then a shrill voice lifted in English amid sudden -silence as the thrumming motor ceased its noise. - -"'Ello! Oo are you?" - -"Very good, Bo's'n Joe," said the skipper calmly. "She'll be in the -centre of the fairway, most likely--about two points abaft our beam." - -Ericksen lifted to his shoulder the shotgun with which he had armed -himself, and two smashing reports blasted into the fog as he fired -both barrels. A shrill clamour of voices made answer, followed by -instantaneous and blanket-like silence. Then came a single sullen -plunge, as of some heavy object striking the water. - -"Ah!" remarked Pontifex, staring into into the fog as though he could -see through it. "Very good, Bo's'n--you reached 'em. They've -anchored, and they'll lie doggo until the fog lifts. They know we'll -waste no bullets if we can't see them." - -"Reached them?" repeated Dennis. "You don't mean that Ericksen tried -to hit them?" - -Bo's'n Joe guffawed, and Pontifex gave Dennis a peculiar smiling -look--a very diabolical look. - -"My dear Mr. Dennis, that's exactly what he did. And some yellow -beggar caught the pellets in his hide--in other words, got the hint! -They'll try no games until they can see what they're up against." - -"But where are they?" demanded Dennis, giving up any expostulation. - -"About six fathoms away, I should say--not more than fifty feet, -certainly." The skipper glanced at Mr. Leman, who nodded -confirmation. "They might be less than that, and we couldn't see -them, nor they us. After the fog lifts--well, then there'll be fun!" - -"They'll fight?" - -Pontifex caressed his moustache and smiled softly. - -"More or less--they'll try some deviltry on us first. Lay out some -harpoons and shoulder-guns, Mr. Leman; we'll have a few tonite bombs -ready. Corny, bring in those cases that I lined before I came up. -We'll get back to work directly." - -Dennis saw no good in making protests. There was no law here save -that of the strongest, and Pontifex was dead right in carrying the -fight to the enemy, aggression being nine points of fighting law. -Besides, Pontifex was manifestly enjoying the prospect, and just at -present Dennis was playing a waiting game and had no desire to bring -about any crisis. - -There being no time for more workman-like methods, an anvil and a -cold-chisel were brought aft, with half a dozen harpoons, and two of -the hands were set to work cutting through the iron harpoon hafts, -just behind the spear-points. Now, modern whaling is carried out -almost exactly as the New Bedford whalers did it a century ago, -except for a small brass cylinder fastened to the haft of the -harpoon. In this cylinder is carried a tonite bomb. Whether the -harpoon be flung by hand or be fired from a shoulder-gun, it carries -the bomb into the whale--and that ends the whale. - -The points off the six harpoons, Mr. Leman made ready a couple of -shoulder-guns and loaded the cylinders of the harpoons with bombs. -As he observed, they might or they might not do much damage, but they -would make a big noise when they hit; and with this intent the -weapons were laid aside to be used in case of any aggressiveness on -the part of the enemy. For the present, at least, the Japs seemed to -be maintaining a careful silence. - -"Well, Mr. Dennis," said Pontifex at length, "I'm going to resume my -interrupted job; I guess I can lay a few more lines before quitting. -Who's going down on your lines?" - -"Why, I will--if you think it's safe," returned Dennis. "You're not -going to knock off work, then?" - -"On account of that yellow scum? I should say not!" exclaimed -Pontifex. "Mr. Leman will do any fighting that's necessary while I'm -down; and the Missus will see to it that nothing fouls our lines. -But send someone else if you don't like the idea." - -"Oh, it suits me," answered Dennis, knocking out his pipe. "I dare -say there's no great risk, but it would feel sweet if the ship left -us prowling on the bottom, eh?" - -Pontifex grunted and went forward, being swallowed up in the fog that -cloaked everything. - -Having learned from Corny that the bottom was pretty dark, but by no -means unsuited to working, Dennis called the steward. Although the -little Cockney was a viperous criminal ashore, he was a faithful soul -at sea, and Dennis had learned that he entertained a strong feeling -of responsibility while watching the pumps. - -"Hi, steward!" he called. "Come and give me a hand with this -suit--and bring a couple of Kanakas to run these pumps, too. Corny's -busy with the lines." - -"Comin' sir," said the steward's voice, and the Cockney appeared a -moment later. - -Meantime, in the waist, Captain Pontifex was engaged in talk with the -cook, while the Missus listened. - -"Now's the time, Dumont," said Pontifex, fondling his curled -mustache. "Work right along aft until you get on his line, savvy?" - -"_Mais oui_!" returned Frenchy, his black eyes glittering. "But me, -I like not this _diable_ of a fog! It will be dark under the water." - -"So much the better." And Pontifex smiled his cruel smile. "So much -the better! He thinks I'm going down. Let the steward attend to his -pumps--and we'll blame the steward for what happens. In this murky -water he'll not see you coming down there--you can get on top of him -and cut his lines and be off in a shot. Are you ready or not?" - -"Yes!" exclaimed Frenchy, reaching for the diving-suit. - -"And watch out for the tide," cautioned the skipper. "It's ebbing -strong and you might lose your bearings if you don't look sharp." - -Frenchy grinned, and unstrapped his sheath-knife. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -IN THE DEPTHS - -As the steward helped pull up the rubber dress about the body of -Dennis, he spoke in a low voice. - -"Beg pardon, sir, but hit looks like you 'ad lost your knife." - -Dennis glanced down at the deck where his paraphernalia lay. The -belt and sheath were there; but the large knife, a regular part of -every diver's equipment, was missing. - -"That's queer!" he said slowly. "Hm! Probably Corny lost the knife -and didn't notice it. Better get me one from the galley, steward: -it'll take a carving knife to fit that big sheath." - -"Yes, sir." The steward slipped off into the mist. The two Kanakas -stood at the pump-wheels, shivering in the mist and talking together. - -A moment later the steward reappeared, carrying a long, keenly edged -carving knife. He tried it in the sheath, and it fitted well enough. - -"Werry good, sir. All set!" - -Dennis liked the little Cockney--he liked the man's thorough -responsibility in his job of watching the pumps. But now, as he -helped adjust the back and breast-pieces, and buckled the belt about -his waist, he felt once more that in this work he was putting himself -in the power of his enemies. - -He forced a laugh at the idea; yet it took a supreme effort to -conquer his imagination. They did not want to kill him, of -course--but if they did, how easy in this fog! But that was all -nonsense. There was no question of murdering. The very notion was -folly! - -Dennis helped the steward adjust the big copper helmet, and the -Cockney screwed it fast into the neck-plate. A moment later, Dennis -was climbing over the rail. The usual diver's shot-line would carry -him straight down, and besides this, a ladder had been slung over the -stern to assist in the ascent. The steward gave him the four lines, -attached to the rail at intervals which would prevent their fouling -after being attached to the cases, and Dennis slipped down into the -depths. - -As always, the steady and regular clicking of the pumps sounded -through his air valves with reassuring effect. Captain Pontifex had -not provided very up-to-date outfits, with telephones and electric -lights and other frills--for this reason no diving work could be done -at night. The suits were good and dependable, however, lacking only -gloves to make them well adapted to this icy water. - -Dennis resolutely dismissed all thoughts of possible danger, and -concentrated his attention upon the work in hand. - -As Corny had reported, the water down below was clear enough for -work, but the lack of filtering sunlight made it gloomy, grey, and -obscure in details. When at last Dennis felt his feet touch the -bottom, he was forced to stand for a moment and adjust his eyesight -to the altered conditions. Presently he was enabled to descry -objects, and he moved toward the scattered and far-strewn heaps of -boxes which lay between the two sections of the _John Simpson_. - -Dennis could see nothing of Pontifex at work below, but in the -present obscurity that was not strange. Besides, the divers, from -waist and stern of the _Pelican_, kept as far apart as possible for -fear of the lines fouling. - -Now, as he advanced, Dennis thought that he perceived a dimly moving -shape off to his left to seaward; but it vanished almost instantly. -It might have been some fish, he concluded, or a bunch of drifting -algae. It was now hard upon noon, and the tide was fast on the ebb. - -With the strange buoyancy which comes to the diver on the bottom, -Dennis took leaps, one after the other, with a boyish delight. He -cleared no ground this way, however, and soon returned to the slow -progress afoot; there was too much danger of losing his balance and -burying his helmet in the ooze as he came down. - - -Presently he came to an upright crowbar in a heap of boxes, which -Corny had been using to pry loose each case in order to pass the -bight of a line around it. Dennis found two loose boxes and made -fast two of his lines; but without tying himself to the pile, he -could not use the crowbar--his own buoyancy was too great. So, to -save time, he passed on to some scattered cases ahead. - -At this juncture, his remaining two lines fouled about his dragging -air hose. When at length he got them extricated and clear, he had -great difficulty in maintaining his balance against the set of the -tide. But at length he got the first line fast to a box, and with -the second line he secured another. - -As he straightened up and grasped his safety-line to signal the -steward that he was ready to ascend, he observed a great shadowy mass -in the water ahead. Accustomed to the gloom by this time, he -perceived that the mass was the after-end of the _John Simpson_, -reaching up through the water on a sharp incline. - -He tugged at his line. To his amazement he felt no resistance -whatever. He tugged harder, more sharply--and the line coiled -snakily toward him. At the same instant he heard a sharp click -behind his ear; the safety valve in his helmet had snapped shut. His -air-tight hose and his line had been parted! - -In this supreme moment, when he faced inescapable death, Tom Dennis -felt none of his previous fear. His brain worked like a clock. - -He knew that either from the stern above, or from the water beneath -he had been cut off and left to die. He had been too slow--he had -failed to heed his inward premonitions. And the sheer horror of it -was that he would not die for a comparatively long time. There was -sufficient air in his helmet and in the bellying folds of his rubber -suit to sustain life for several minutes! - -What good would this do him? None! What good would it do him to -reach the line he had made fast to boxes? None. This was no -accident. The ends of his lines told him that they had been cut -clean, severed. Those above would disregard any possible signals, -would let him perish miserably. He could depend upon no one. He was -trapped, helpless, murdered! - -Then suddenly, Dennis perceived something in the water behind him. -He turned. - -Not a dozen feet distant, another diver stood there, helmet turned -toward him watching. Through the thick glass Dennis glimpsed keen -dark eyes, a gleam of white teeth; this was not Pontifex at all. -Recognition came to him, and a thin cry escaped his lips--Dumont! -Here was the murderer! - -Dennis gripped his knife, half-minded to retaliate upon this assassin -who had cut his lines; for in the man's hand he dimly caught the -glitter of steel. But, as Dennis tensed himself for the leap, he -checked the movement--another dim figure had appeared! - - -Amazement held Dennis spellbound, incredulous. There had been but -two diving-suits aboard the _Pelican_; of this he was quite certain. -Yet here upon the sea floor stood three divers! - -Dumont--for the second figure was manifestly that of the cook--stood -staring at Dennis as though inviting any hostile movement. But the -third figure suddenly rose in the water with a great leap--rose and -threw itself forward, and went caroming down upon Frenchy, Then the -answer came to Dennis--a diver from the Jap boat! Under shelter of -the fog, knowing themselves unseen, the little brown men had gone to -work! - -And as he realized this, Dennis saw the figures of the two other -divers, plunging together upon the bottom, abruptly obscured from his -sight by a red mist uprising through the water. With horrified -comprehension, Dennis realized that the murderer, Dumont, had been -taken unawares, had been caught in his own trap--had cut the lines of -one man only to have an unseen enemy spring upon him and stab him to -death! - -Dennis turned, and with a wild leap left the red-smeared scene behind. - -The whole affair, from the moment he had heard his helmet valve -click, had not taken twenty seconds, Already there had sprung into -Dennis's brain the comprehension that he had but one bare slim hope -of salvation--almost subconsciously he was aware of it, and almost -upon intuition he leaped upward through the water. He leaped not -toward the _Pelican_, where he knew well that no help awaited him, -but away from her; he leaped toward the shattered and sundered -afterpart of the _John Simpson_. - -Speed now meant life. He could not reach the shore in time, -already--was it fact or imagination?--he fancied that his breathing -was getting more difficult, the air in his lungs hot and vitiated. -There came to him the horrible thought of a diver leaping about the -bottom of the sea, leaping in huge bounds of twenty feet upward, -leaping like a mad crazed animal until the air in his suit gave out -and he dropped head-foremost in the ooze. It was a frantic thought. -Upon the heels of it something tugged at the trailing lifeline and -jerked Dennis down head first. - -Knife in hand, he recovered his balance, thinking that the Jap diver -had pursued him. But the trailing end of his line had caught in some -obstruction--nothing more. With a sobbing breath of relief, Dennis -slashed away the line and bore onward with a high leap. - -That bound gained the crushed decking of the _John Simpson_. The -afterpart of the wreck lay upon a sharply inclined plane, its broken -forward end upon the bottom, the stern high in its nest of rocks. Up -that sharp steep slope crawled Tom Dennis. - -To maintain his balance and to keep any foothold upon the slimy -decking was difficult. He clung to the rail with his left hand, -slowly working himself upward. He dared try no leaping here, lest -like a rubber ball he fly over the rail with the seaward current and -drop; and if a diver drops thirty feet he is apt to be crushed all at -once into his helmet by the pressure--and it would not be nice. - -"Can't take chances!" thought Dennis, then laughed inwardly at the -notion. Take chances! Why, he was basing his entire hope of -salvation upon chances of which he was totally uncertain! It had -swiftly come to him that by gaining the after end of the wreck, by -crawling up her sloping deck to the stern, he would be out of the -water. But would he? How far had the tide ebbed? He did not know. -He could not remember what time the tide had turned--whether the -wreck would be now uncovered or not. - -Then there was the fog; another chance. If the fog had only slightly -lessened, so those aboard the _Pelican_ could see stern of the wreck, -they would finish their work with rifles should Dennis emerge. Thus -there was a double chance against him. Should he find himself out of -water at the stern of the wreck, his only hope then would be that the -fog still held thick as ever. - - -His ears were roaring now, and paining with an ache that thrummed at -each pulse-beat. The air was steadily growing worse; Dennis paused -to press more air up from his billowing suit, and gained momentary -relief. - -It occurred to him that he still had one friend aboard the -_Pelican_--the steward. His knife had been removed purposely; the -steward had noticed its absence; therefore, the little Cockney was -not in on the murder-scheme. Dennis laughed slightly and turned -again to his task of climbing. - -Dragging himself up that slimy steep decking was hard work, and he -cursed the tremendous weights that held him down; the buoyancy seemed -gone out of him with his weariness. Then, suddenly, he came to a -dead halt, straining his eyes to look upward and ahead, and keen -despair went through him like a knife. - -He had gained the after hatchway which was uncovered and yawned in a -black hole to his right. Directly in front of him was the overhang -of the poop--an eight-foot wall which, owing to the position of the -wreck, deserved its name so far as Dennis was concerned. It overhung -him; in order to go up the ladder in front of him, Dennis would have -to do it hand over hand, or not at all! - -For a moment he paused. Pains had seized and were racking him. His -throat and lungs felt afire. He knew that he could not last much -longer, and with a frightful effort he flung himself forward; the -knife, his sole means of escape from the diving-suit, he thrust down -into the sheath of his belt, trusting that it would remain there. - -Gripping the stairs of the ladder, Dennis hauled himself up. He -dared spare nothing of energy or effort now; he was staking all upon -one effort. If he failed to reach the poop he was gone. - -Strangling, gasping spasmodically for the air that burned out his -lungs, he came at last to the end of the ladder. He got his head -about it; he could see the poop-deck there before him, and he writhed -desperately over the edge of the ladder. With all his lightness in -the water, he nearly failed at that moment. For one sickening -instant he felt himself going backward and down--then, heaving upward -convulsively, he somehow made it safely. For a moment he lay weak -and helpless. - -A spasm of strangulation forced him on. He groped behind him for his -knife, found it, and pressed forward. The water was lighter now--he -was near the top. How near? Unless the stern were clear of the -water, he would be lost. There was blood in his throat; his nose and -ears were bleeding. To his terror, he lost his balance and plunged -against the rail, nearly going over. He gripped the rail and hauled -himself onward. - - -A frightful madness seized him, a convulsive gasping for relief, and -he was near to ripping asunder his diving-suit. His frantic efforts -had exhausted what little oxygen remained; he could press up no more -good air from his suit. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he found -that some horrible, deadly, agonizing weight was pressing him down. -He could see only the grey dimness around him; red specks were -dancing before his eyes; that awful weight was oppressing him, and -what caused it, he did not know, unless it were death. He came up -against the rounded bulge of the stern-rail. It was the end. He -could go no farther. - -"That ends it!" he thought despairingly. "The tide hasn't ebbed -enough." - -He fell forward, unable to lift the weight of that copper helmet, for -the oppression was crushing him down. He could not make out what -that frightful weight could be, nor did he care. He reached up with -his knife, as he lay there, and determined to end things swiftly. He -refused to be longer tortured. - -With a swift, reckless motion he ripped asunder the breast of his -diving-suit. - -To his amazement, nothing happened. No water entered. Instead, came -a breath of cold sweet air that literally brought life into his lungs! - -Two minutes later he was sitting up, sobbing the good clean air into -his body! He saw then what had happened--what that awful weight had -been! It had been only the weight of his own body and equipment. -Unknown to himself, he had emerged from the water into the dense -thickness of the fog. - -He had won clear! - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -PONTIFEX PLANS REVENGE - -"Strike me blind," observed Bo's'n Joe gloomily, "if they ain't gone -an' got poor Frenchy!" - -No one else spoke for a bit. Mr. Leman spat over the rail and stared -at the fog in the direction of the unseen Japanese ship. The Missus -had gone to her cabin when the body was hauled aboard. Captain -Pontifex stood looking down at the form, still incased in its -diving-suit; and his pallid cavernous features were venomous with -rage. - -"I'd sooner have lost anyone aboard rather than Dumont--except the -Missus," he said softly. "And to think they must have got him just -after he got Dennis." - -"Aye," said Bo's'n Joe. - -It was very evident how Frenchy had come by his fate. Transfixing -his body, fastened so firmly within him that no easy pull would -remove it, was a long-bladed knife with shark-skin handle--palpably a -Japanese knife. - -"Well," the Skipper turned away, "see that he's sewed up proper, Mr. -Leman, and we'll bury him shipshape. Attend to repairing that dress, -too." - -When the skipper had disappeared aft, Bo's'n Joe looked at Mr. Leman. - -"What's the Skipper got on his mind? He ain't goin' to stand by and -see Frenchy killed without doin' anything?" - -Mr. Leman reflectively tugged his whiskers, and squinted down his -broken nose. - -"Not him, Bo's'n--not him! 'Ready to work to-morrow', says he. Just -wait till to-night, Bo's'n! If something don't happen to them Japs, -I miss my guess. Leave it to him and the Missus! If this blasted -fog don't break, he'll show 'em a thing or two." - -The _Pelican_ swung idly to her anchors all that afternoon. - -It was easy for those aboard her to deduce exactly how Dumont had -come to his end. The knife told the whole story. The flurry at the -end of the lines, Dumont's frantic signal to be hoisted, all -explained perfectly that he had encountered a diver from the enemy -ship. The Japs had diving apparatus, of course. - -Sullen resentment and fury filled the _Pelican_, from skipper to -meekest Kanaka. All aboard had been wildly excited over salvage and -treasure; because of this fact, Pontifex had a solidly united crew -behind him in whatever he might attempt. Frenchy had not been -particularly loved, but his murder showed that the enemy meant -business--and in defence of their treasure-trove the crew of the -_Pelican_ were only too anxious to fight. - -As the afternoon wore on, the fog thickened rather than lessened. At -the end of the first dog-watch all hands were called and Frenchy was -committed to the deep, with the usual bucket of slush. - -Someone observed that there was no chance of laying the ghost of -Dennis in this customary fashion; within five minutes the remark had -gone through the brig. No one cared particularly how Dennis had -perished, but everyone was superstitious in the extreme. Mr. Leman -allowed an anxious frown to disturb his flat countenance, and even -the skipper, upon hearing the rumour, appeared disturbed. - -"Not that I give two hoots for any ghost," he confided to the Missus, -"but it makes a bad spirit aboard ship. Nonsense! A ghost doesn't -come back, anyway." - -"I've heard 'baout that happening," said the Missus gloomily but -firmly. "And what folks believe in is apt to come true. You mark my -words!" - -"Then" and the skipper brightened--"they say that a death aboard ship -always brings wind--so we'd better get busy with those Japs before -the fog lifts!" - -This latter superstition was equally well known aboard, and -predictions were that before morning the fog would be gone. Within -another hour, however, everybody aboard was too busy to bother -further with superstitions. - - -When darkness began to fall, with no sign of activity from Captain -Pontifex, open grumbling began to spread along the deck, It was -silenced by the Skipper in person, who appeared and ordered two of -the whaleboats lowered. - -"Mr. Leman," he commanded quietly, the entire crew listening tensely, -"you'll take command of one boat. Lay aboard her six of those -oil-bags from the store-room. Muffle the oars. Take a compass and -mind your bearings. Two of you men lay aft, here." - -Two of the white hands hastened aft and followed the Skipper down the -companion way. In five minutes they reappeared, struggling beneath -the weight of the pride of the whaling fleet---the green-striped -tea-jar. It was minus the big scarlet geranium plant, and should -have been light; but it seemed most unaccountably heavy. - -"Easy, there!" snapped the Skipper. - -"Corny, reeve a rope through that block at the mains'l yard and sling -the jar into the boat--not Mr. Leman's boat, but mine. Bo's'n, lay -down there and place her in the bow." - -Ericksen seemed not to relish his task in the least, but he obeyed. -In ten minutes the jar was safely stowed in the other whaleboat; from -this boat all whaling gear was now removed, six oars alone being left. - -"In with you, Corny," commanded the Skipper. "You and Ericksen with -four Kanakas will row me out. Mr. Leman, precede us very slowly; -when you sight that Jap, lay that oil on the water and then stand -back to pick us up." - -He turned to salute the Missus with a chaste kiss upon the cheek. - -"Good-bye, my dear! You insist upon taking the third boat?" - -"I reckon I can do as well as yeou," returned the Missus impassively. -"Good luck!" - -"Same to you," answered the Skipper. - -Six men were at the oars in Mr. Leman's boat, four more in that of -the skipper. Mrs. Pontifex ordered the forward boat down, and the -five remaining men into her. To them she handed rifles, then turned -to the trembling steward. - -"I'm leavin' yeou to tend ship," she stated firmly. "There's a -shot-gun beside the helm; if anybody else boards, yeou let fly! No -telling but some o' those Japs might ha' worked araound by the -shore--but we'll give 'em something else to think abaout." - -With that, she descended into her boat, compass in hand, ordered her -rowers to give way, and vanished into the darkness of the fog--not -following the Skipper, but departing at a tangent from his course. - -The steward hastened to the quarter-deck, secured the shot-gun, and -perched upon the rail. - -The Cockney was by no means lacking in acuteness. He had been -cleaning up a muss in the stern cabin for the last half-hour; he knew -that this muss was the debris from several ammunition packets, broken -from the packing-case of ammunition that had been hauled in upon the -morning previous. He knew that the scarlet geranium had been -transplanted into a keg. He knew that this keg had previously been -full of gunpowder; he knew likewise that the skipper had laboriously -fashioned a fuse--and that the tide was now going out. - - -So as he perched upon the starboard taffrail and scrutinized the -blank fog, the steward had a fairly certain idea of what to expect. - -"Gawd 'elp them yeller swine!" he observed reflectively. "Skipper's -going to lye out that oil; it'll drift around 'em wi' the tide. -That's what 'e was w'iting for, the hold fox! When the oil 'as got -hall haround that ship, skipper sends 'is boat at 'er. Ho! Then 'e -gets off in Mr. Leman's boat, first lightin' the fuse. Then 'e -lights the oil. Oil an' fuse--and then the jar o' powder--blime, but -'e's a fox, a ruddy fox! Ho! And then the Missus she takes a -'and--only I bet skipper 'e don't know as 'ow that fusee is dry! -Thinks it's wet as when 'e made it, 'e does! Well, wait an' see----" - -His reflections ended in a chuckle. The steward, having no personal -anticipation of danger, cared not a snap what went on out in the -mist; in fact, he looked forward to a very enjoyable time. - -The tide had turned, right enough, and was strongly on the ebb. -Rolling himself a cigarette, the steward stretched along the rail and -waited comfortably; he could feel the ship lift and tug and vibrate -as the pull of the tide-current swung her on the taunt hawsers from -stem and stern. The steward watched the dim banks of fog with lazy -anticipation. He was in the position of a front-seat spectator, and -was determined to have a good time. - -Thus, being intent upon the fog, waiting for the first flare of -yellow flame and the first wild yell of alarm, the steward relaxed -all vigilance as regarded his own surroundings. He was no seaman, -and when the _Pelican_ gave a queer little sideways lurch, he merely -shifted his position slightly and reflected that a wave must have -struck her. Still there came no sound from the fog, no token of -flaring oil or fighting men. The steward lighted his cigarette and -reflected that emptying the oil bags seemed to take considerable time. - -It was perhaps five minutes later that a queer sound came from -forward--a sound not unlike the breaking of a lax violin string, but -deeper. The steward did not hear it at all; but a seaman would have -known that somewhere a taut cable had parted. When the brigantine -began to rock gently and evenly, the steward took for granted that -there must be a ground-swell or something of that sort. - -Behind the steward moved a queer grotesque figure--a figure that -might have been some strange nightmare shape moving silently in the -darkness; a figure with enormous and bulbous head which rocked upon -its shoulders in monstrous and uncanny fashion. The figure came to a -pause just behind the steward whose position was rendered quite -certain by the cigarette spark. - -"Put up your hands!" snapped a voice suddenly. - -The steward tumbled backward off the rail and plumped down on the -deck. A faint howl of terror escaped him as he stared up at the -grotesque, horribly-shaped figure whose bulk was intensified by the -fog. The figure stood over him, and a rifle poked him in the ribs. - -"'Ave mercy!" howled the terrified steward. "I'm a poor, innercent -man----" - -"Oh, it's _you_! Didn't know you, steward," said the voice of -Dennis. "Where's everybody? Get up, old boy--I'll not hurt you!" - -But, recognizing the voice of Dennis, the steward could only emit a -horrified gasp. - -"Don't 'a'nt me, sir!" he pleaded, folding his hands and getting to -his knees in desperate fear. "I didn't 'ave nothink to do wif it, -sir----" - -"Good heavens, I'm no ghost!" Dennis laughed. "Where's the skipper?" - -"Gone, sir," quavered the steward. "Heverybody's gone." - -"Where?" - -"To fight that 'ere Jap ship, sir." - -"You're all alone on board?" - -"Yes, sir." - -Dennis broke into laughter, dropped his rifle and seized the hand of -the steward, pulling him erect. - -"Here, man, don't be afraid!" he exclaimed. "I'm solid flesh and -blood. But you'll have to unscrew this helmet--the thing's killing -me, and I can't get rid of it. I've cut off the rest of the -suit--take hold, now!" - - -Dennis sat down on the deck. Trembling still, the steward unfastened -the catches of the helmet and unscrewed the big tinned-copper globe. - -"Oh, but that feels good!" sighed Dennis, "I could open the front -sight, but I couldn't get the thing off. Now the corselet----" - -A moment later Dennis stood erect, gingerly feeling his neck and -shoulders. Suddenly he laughed again and seized the steward's hand. - -"Shake, old man!" he exclaimed heartily. "So they're all off -fighting the Japs, eh? Mrs. Pontifex too?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And you didn't know that I'd cut the old ship adrift--and that we're -outward bound with the tide?" - -The poor steward gave a violent start, and stared around; but the -shroud of fog was too dense. - -"Drifting, sir?" he uttered fearfully. "And what'll the skipper do?" - -"I should worry!" Dennis chuckled. "See here, steward--I know you -weren't in on the plan to murder me; your giving me the knife proved -that. So we'll stick together, old man, and if we get out of this, -I'll see that _you_ come out on top. - -"Well, after Dumont cut my lines, I got out on the stern of the -wreck, above the water; with your knife I got rid of most of the -diving suit, and managed to get ashore. Two boats filled with Japs -came ashore about dark, not knowing I was there. They landed, -probably meaning to attack the _Pelican_ later. But I shoved out -their boats, and came aboard ship in one of them--got their rifles -too." - -He laughed heartily. "See here, steward--the Japs are marooned on -the island! The Skipper is out attacking their schooner. Meantime, -we're drifting out to sea, and--what's the answer?" - -"Blime, sir!" The steward gaped at him. "It's mortal queer!" - -"It will be--for somebody," said Dennis grimly. "Now get me -something to eat." - -"Yes, sir. This way, sir." The steward, still but half-conscious of -what had taken place, turned toward the galley. - -At that instant a fearful yell arose from somewhere in the mist; a -yell that quavered up and died quickly. - - -The steward halted, gazing over the starboard counter; but the ship -had swung and was going out with the tide. It was over the port bow -that a wild flare of light glimmered. Dennis saw it and cried: - -"The fools! They've set her afire!" - -"No, sir, it's the oil!" Breathlessly the steward explained the -Skipper's plan of attack. Before he had finished, the flare of light -widened into a broad stream, lighting all the fog redly. With it -sounded renewed yells--shrill piercing yells. - -Then, off to one side, broke forth a crackle of rifles. That was the -boat of the Missus, cleverly pumping bullets at the Jap ship from a -wide angle. Through this burst a volume of hoarse shouts, followed -almost at once by a single terrific detonation--the thunderous shock -of which sent the _Pelican_ reeling and shuddering. The -green-striped jar had exploded. - -After that one bursting, rending, shattering crash, a swift darkness -ensued. Through this blackness pierced fragmentary glimmers as the -scattered and far-flung oil blazed up here and there, only fitfully -to perish again. - -"Good heavens!" exclaimed Dennis, awed and astounded. "Old Pontifex -got more than he bargained for in that bomb, or I miss my guess!" - -The _Pelican_ was already past the scene of the explosion. What had -happened there in the fog, could not be told. Whether the enemy ship -had been shattered, or whether the whaleboats had themselves caught -the force of the explosion, could not be discovered. All was silence -and darkness from that quarter. But from far astern, lifted a chorus -of faintly quavering yells as the marooned Japs on the island -discovered the loss of their boats. Save for this, all was hushed -and still. - -"Well, steward," said Dennis in the silence. "Let's get that grub. -I need it." - -"Yes, sir," responded the steward meekly. - -And the _Pelican_ drifted out upon the tide, swinging and heaving -gently to the slow swells that rocked up through the fog. It was an -hour later that the first breath of air came--the wind which, as -sailors say, always comes after death. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THEY THAT TAKE THE SWORD-- - -A glorious sunrise broke across the ocean, lifting the island peaks -to the north into a sheen of purple-rose and gold. Dennis wakened to -it--he had gone to sleep stretched out upon a blanket on the -quarter-deck--with a thrill of sheer delight in the golden splendour -overhead; then he realized that the steward was calling him, and he -leaped up. - -The _Pelican_ with her canvas all housed, had been but little -influenced by the breeze from the north-west. She had made leeway, -drifting a couple of miles from her late anchorage; having no glasses -at hand, Dennis could not tell whether the Jap ship still lay by the -island or not. - -"There's a boat tacking down to us, sir!" rang out the steward's -voice from forward. - -Dennis glimpsed her at once, and saw that she must be a -fishing-boat--a sturdy, bluff little craft which seemed to carry but -two people, As he looked, he saw her brown canvas flutter down; she -was coming from the north-east, and when her canvas was stowed she -headed directly for the _Pelican_. - -"Got a motor, eh?" reflected Dennis. - -He swung down the companion way and located the binoculars of the -skipper. With these he returned to the deck. Caring less about the -fishing-boat than about conditions at the island, he picked up the -latter point first; the steward had joined him and stood waiting for -disclosures. - -There was no ship in sight, much to the surprise of Dennis. Nor -could he make out any sign of life upon the rocky crags of the island -itself. About a mile distant from the brigantine he located a boat -floating bottom-side up. It was a whaleboat, and as it swung around -with the seas Dennis made out the figure two painted at its bows. - -"That's the boat Mr. Leman took last night, blime if it ain't!" -ejaculated the steward, upon learning its number from Dennis. -"Nothin' else in sight sir?" - -"No--hold on!" Dennis caught something adrift toward the north end of -the island. "By thunder, there's another boat--she seems to be -standing out this way. There's someone aboard her; they're getting -up a sail. Seems to be only two or three of them----" - -"That fishin boat is 'eading this w'y, sir," broke in the steward. -"Shall I pass 'er?" - -"By all means," responded Dennis, and turned his glasses toward the -craft. - -Amazement thrilled within him--amazement, and startled unbelief. One -figure aboard her was huddled over the engine amidships and could not -be discerned; but in the stern, wonder of wonders, sat Florence! - -There could be no mistake about it. She was heavily wrapped in fur -robes, but Dennis saw her face sharply and distinctly--her pale eager -features, her brown eyes fastened upon the whaler, her fur-gloved -hand upon the tiller of the boat. With a wild yell of delight Tom -Dennis leaped up, waving his arms, and he saw Florence wave back -response. - -"It's my wife, steward--hurrah!" Dennis ran forward to aid the -Cockney. "She must have come all the way from Unalaska in that boat! -Here, get your line ready by the diver's ladder in the waist; it'll -be an easy climb there. Great glory, what a surprise!" - -"Yes, sir," returned the steward, adding: "And werry lucky hit is, -sir, as she didn't get 'ere larst night!" - -"You bet," said Dennis devoutly. "Thank Heaven for the fog--it must -have prevented their trying to make the island!" - - -As the fishing craft drew in toward the whaler, Dennis recognized the -man at her engine--it was the same grizzled fisherman whom he had -hired to pick up Jerry. The fisherman shut off his engine and came -in to the bow to receive the line which the steward flung; the boat -drew in beside the drifting _Pelican_. Florence, rising stiffly, was -aided to the ladder by her bronzed helper, and a moment later Dennis -held her in his arms. - -"What on earth!" he exclaimed, as she broke into mingled tears and -laughter. "What brought you here, dearest?" - -"You, Tom!" she exclaimed. "Jerry told us that they meant to send -you down in a diving-suit and--and--oh, I'm glad we're not too late! -Captain Nickers has been a darling, Tom----" - -Dennis shook hands with the fisherman, who grinned and eyed the ship. - -"Looks kind o' fussed up, don't she?" said Nickers. "Where's -everybody?" - -Florence glanced around quickly. "Oh! Where are they, Tom? Quick, -you must get away----" - -"Take it easy," said Dennis, and pointed to the whaleboat standing -down the wind toward them. "Where they are, _I_ don't know! Lots of -things have happened. So you came all this way to give me warning?" - -"You bet," said Nickers. "Say, Dennis, if I had a wife like you -have--by gum, I'd give a million dollars! That run over here ain't -no cinch for a lady, let me tell you; but she stood watch an' watch -with me like an old hand--well, she's a wonder!" - -"We had to," Florence laughed, flushing under the ardent words of -grizzled old Nickers. "I was terribly afraid for you, Tom, and there -was no one else we could get--but tell us, what's happened?" - -Dennis glanced at the approaching boat and saw that she would not -reach them for ten minutes. So, dispatching the steward to make -ready some coffee, he gave Florence and Nickers a brief outline of -the situation, making light of his own peril. - -"Where the Japs are," he concluded, "I've not the faintest idea. And -I can't figure out what happened last night--where Pontifex and the -others went. I don't believe he blew up the Jap ship, for I can't -see any signs of wreckings except Mr. Leman's boat. Well, here's -this boat coming in. What's that in her stern, Nickers?" - -Having dropped his glasses in the excitement of getting Florence -aboard Dennis could make out only that the approaching whaleboat was -manned by three Kanakas of the _Pelican's_ crew, but in her stern was -a queer shapeless mass that looked strangely terrible. Across the -thwarts forward lay two silent brown figures, inanimate and evidently -dead. It was manifest that from this boat there was nothing to fear. - -"Why, Tom!" Florence caught Dennis' arm, a wild thrill in her voice. -"In the stern--it's Mrs. Pontifex." - -One of the Kanakas stepped forward across the dead bodies of his two -comrades and bawled for a line as the boat's sail whipped down. -Nickers flung another rope, and the whaleboat came in beside the -fishing craft. Then, for the first time, Mrs. Pontifex stirred--and -Dennis saw that her head was swathed in bandages. - - -The Kanakas, frightened and trembling at the appearance of Dennis -whom they had thought dead, came aboard aiding the Missus. Their -story was a ghastly one. At the first flame of blazing oil, they had -opened fire upon the Jap vessel, obeying orders previously given them -by the Missus. But their firing had ceased with the explosion; it -had stunned them. They had wakened to find two of their number -dead--and the Missus blind. - -All that night they had lain rocking to the swells after vainly -trying to find the _Pelican_. The Jap ship had gone. They had heard -men swimming out to her from shore, and had caught the sound of oars; -then her motor had started. It was very plain that the Japs had been -thoroughly frightened, and after picking up their men ashore had -turned and run for it. - -Florence, meantime, had aided the groaning Mrs. Pontifex to get below. - -To his queries, Dennis could elicit no response from the Kanakas -regarding Mr. Leman or Pontifex. They had landed at dawn, but had -found the island deserted. Seeing the _Pelican_ to leeward; they had -set out to join her, passing on the way the floating whaleboat. They -identified it beyond question as Mr. Leman's boat. - -The steward came up with pannikins of coffee during the talk, and now -broke into the discussion. - -"Beg pardon, sir," he said to Dennis, "but I think as I know what -'appened, sir." - -"You do? Then out with it!" - -"Like this, sir. The skipper, e' myde 'is own fusee for that 'ere -bomb, and I seen 'im a-myking of it. 'E rolled it wet, sir, but 'e -myde it in the hafternoon, sir, and before 'e come to use it larst -night, the bloody fussee 'ad dried out, sir. So when 'e lighted it, -why, it wasn't no fusee at all, but a regular train o' powder, -sir----" - -Dennis turned away, sickened by the thought of what must have -happened. The explosion must have taken place almost instantly--no -wonder Mr. Leman's boat was floating bottom upward! Pontifex and -Ericksen and Corny and the others--all gone! - -"Well," said Nickers phlegmatically, sipping his hot coffee, "all I -got to say, looks like old Pontifex got what he was fixing to give -other folks. Hey?" - -Dennis nodded and left the spot. Getting coffee and biscuits from -the steward, he went to the after companion way; but at the top of -the ladder he encountered Florence coming up alone. - -"I'll take this to Mrs. Pontifex----" - -"No use, Tom," Florence stopped him, her face very pale. "Poor -thing, she can't eat yet; Tom, she broke down in my arms--oh, I can't -talk of it! The poor woman----" - - -Dennis forced a draught of coffee upon her, and Florence swallowed -the hot liquid. It sent a glow of colour into her pale cheeks. - -"So she's broken, eh?" mused Dennis. "Poor thing--one can't help but -feel sorry for her, Florence, and yet in a way she deserved all that -has happened. Look here, what are we going to do? About ourselves, -I mean, and this ship, and the salvage." - -He briefly explained what must have happened to Pontifex and Mr. -Leman, glossing over the event as much as possible. But Florence -seemed not to hear. She stood at the rail, gazing out at the purple -peaks to the north for a long while. Suddenly she turned back to -him, a faint smile upon her lips. - -"Tom, the first thing will be to straighten everything out at -Unalaska! Before I left, I told the authorities everything. They're -trying to get the revenue cutter, but we shan't need her now, of -course. - -"We can charter this ship from Mrs. Pontifex--it'll give the poor -woman some money to go on--for a share in the proceeds of the -salvage. Then we can come back and clear up everything in father's -old ship----" - -"Agreed." Dennis turned. "Oh, Cap'n Nickers! Think we can take -this craft into Unalaska with what hands we have?" - -"Reckon we can," floated back the voice of the grizzled fisherman. -"I got a Master's ticket, and if I can't lay a course there's -something wrong with the Gov'ment!" - -Dennis looked eagerly to Florence. "We'll make him skipper--eh? And -we'll give him a share in the profits, too----" - -Her arms crept about his shoulders. "Oh, Tom--we'll do _everything_, -won't we? But you'll never leave me behind again." - -"Not much!" Dennis pressed his lips to hers, and laughed softly. - - - - -THE CONCLUSION - -OUTWARD BOUND - -Four months after Tom Dennis had vanished from Marshville, the dingy -and shut-up office of _The Clarion_ was reopened. Dennis had -returned--and he had not returned alone. The mortgage held by banker -Dribble was cancelled. A new linotype machine was installed in _The -Clarion's_ dingy back room. The first issue of the paper announced -that it was back again to stay. And it stayed! - -Also, some very good farms along the river were purchased by a -gentleman named Nickers. Mr. Nickers announced that he was a retired -sea-captain and was now about to take up the profession of farming -Mother Earth--the dream of every sea-faring man alive. - -Each afternoon at five minutes of two, Mr. Nickers would stride down -the street and enter the office of _The Clarion_. The wide front -office was now divided into two rooms. Mr. Nickers invariably passed -to the second room and entered, closing the door behind him. - -One afternoon, however, he came slightly earlier than usual. Tom -Dennis, who was in the second room, shook hands heartily. In the -corner by the window that overlooked Main Street sat a man of huge -physique and massive features; this man was able to move only with -difficulty and by aid of a stick. Miles Hathaway would never be the -man he had been, but at least he could get about. Modern surgeons -can do much that appears miraculous to the layman. - -Hathaway held up his big fist and exchanged a hearty grip with -Nickers; then he lifted a rugged booming voice in a shout that -rattled the plate-glass window. - -"Jerry! Where's that-- Oh, here you are!" - -"Yes, sir," meekly responded a moon-faced lad, popping in at the -door. He was clad in printer's apron and had a very dirty face, as -is the rightful heritage of every printer's devil who is yet passing -through the "type lice" jest of hoary memory. But he was manifestly -a very happy boy. - -"Strike four bells!" roared Miles Hathaway. "And fetch my pipe and -tobacco." - - -Dennis beckoned to Jerry and whispered something. The boy struck a -brass ship's bell of the regulation eight-inch size which hung near -the door--struck it one-two, one-two, as a ship's bell should be -struck, then vanished hastily. He had barely gone when Florence came -into the room, with a smile and a kiss for everybody concerned--which -seemed to mightily embarrass Captain Nickers but not to displease him -particularly! - -Florence started to speak, then halted as Jerry re-entered the room -bearing a tray with glasses and a long green bottle. - -"Why, Tom!" she exclaimed quickly. "You're not drinking?" - -"We're all drinking to-day--and you'll have to take a sip at least!" -said Dennis, laughing. He produced a corkscrew and opened the -bottle. "News for you, Florence! Now, Jerry, fill 'em all -around--and a specially big one for Cap'n Nickers!" - -Wondering, Florence watched Jerry obey the order. Then Tom Dennis, -lifting his glass, met her puzzled eyes with a gay laugh. - -"Good news, Florence! Two things have happened this morning. First, -the other paper has offered to sell out to us--and I'm going to -accept their offer, running it as a weekly from now on. That means -no opposition here. And second, I've signed a whopping advertising -contract with one of the biggest agencies--it came in the mail this -morning. Ladies and gentlemen, that means that from this time -forward _The Clarion_ is not only established firmly here in town, -but she begins to haul in the coin! - -"I've made mistakes," pursued Dennis more soberly. "I made 'em when -I was here before, and I've profited by them. Beginning with next -Monday's issue _The Clarion_ dies for ever! Beginning with next -Monday its place will be taken by _The Marshville Pelican_--and -here's to the new ship!" - -"Hurray!" said Cap'n Nickers. But Florence turned to her husband. - -"And Tom," she said softly, "you'll have to find a new society -editor. I--I'm going to stay at home after this and--and make a real -home for you!" - -Of all those who heard her words Tom Dennis alone understood--and -perhaps Miles Hathaway understood also. - - - -THE END - - - - PRINTED BY - FISHER, KNIGHT & CO.; LTD. - LONDON AND HARPENDEN - - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE PELICAN *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Cruise of the Pelican</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Henry Bedford-Jones</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 3, 2022 [eBook #67311]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Al Haines</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE PELICAN ***</div> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - <i>The Cruise of the Pelican</i><br /> -</h1> - -<p class="t2"> - <i>By H. BEDFORD-JONES</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - <i>Author of<br /> - "The Kasbah Gate," "Splendour of the Gods," etc.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - <i>London: HURST & BLACKETT, LTD.,<br /> - PATERNOSTER HOUSE, E.C.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="t3"> - <i>1924</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Contents<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Chapter<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - I. <a href="#chap01">Boatswain Joe</a><br /> - II. <a href="#chap02">News from Nowhere</a><br /> - III. <a href="#chap03">Laying a Course</a><br /> - IV. <a href="#chap04">The Square Suitcase</a><br /> - V. <a href="#chap05">The "Pelican"</a><br /> - VI. <a href="#chap06">Outward Bound</a><br /> - VII. <a href="#chap07">Jerry Tells Something</a><br /> - VIII. <a href="#chap08">Miles Hathaway Talks</a><br /> - IX. <a href="#chap09">Unalaska Bay</a><br /> - X. <a href="#chap10">The Wreck</a><br /> - XI. <a href="#chap11">The Enemy Comes</a><br /> - XII. <a href="#chap12">In the Depths</a><br /> - XIII. <a href="#chap13">Pontifex Plans Revenge</a><br /> - XIV. <a href="#chap14">They that Take the Sword—</a><br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - THE CONCLUSION <a href="#chap15">Outward Bound</a><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<p class="t2"> -The Cruise of the "Pelican" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER I -<br /><br /> -BOATSWAIN JOE -</h3> - -<p> -Tom Dennis sat on a printer's stool beside -a very dirty window which dimly illumined -his figure, and stared at the gloom -surrounding him. His rawboned face was -dejected; his angular body slumped -despondently. In his hand was a little sheaf of -papers. -</p> - -<p> -It was five-thirty in the afternoon. Long -since, the grist of evening papers had gone -through the big press; the rollers had been -washed and retired; the men had gone home. -It was Saturday night, and the week's work -was done. So was <i>The Marshville Clarion</i>, -as Tom Dennis cheerlessly admitted to -himself. -</p> - -<p> -The high-school lad who assisted Dennis -in gathering local items and filling the -columns of <i>The Clarion</i> had not returned -as usual from the Saturday baseball game to -write up his notes from a fresh memory. -Dennis had instructed him not to return -until Monday—and not to return then unless -sent for. -</p> - -<p> -Silence and the darkness of departing day -lay funereally upon the big back room. -Presses and stones and type-racks filled the -floor. Always dingy and dark, this room -now seemed to feel the approach of dissolution. -The smell of printing-ink hung upon -the air like incense strewn by dead hands. -<i>The Clarion</i> had issued its own obituary. -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis suddenly moved. To the -dim light of the unwashed window he held -the papers in his hand. They were bills. -Each of them was stamped "Paid". As -he looked at them, Tom Dennis uttered a -mirthless bitter laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"Paid!" he said, his voice ringing hollowly -in the emptiness of the big back room. -"Paid, by heavens—and not a cent to spare! -And the bank holds a mortgage on this -plant! I can sell the typewriters for fifty -dollars; I'll have to do it to get out of -town!" -</p> - -<p> -The outer door, the door of the front -office, banged, and there was a heavy tread -that ceased abruptly. Tom Dennis paid no -heed to it; he sensed that someone had -entered, but it was of no concern to him -what passed in the outer office. -</p> - -<p> -"Done!" he said morosely. "I'm done! -It's been the dickens of a pull, this year -has—and now I'm done." -</p> - -<p> -He was right: he was done, and he knew it. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Every newspaper man dreams of running, -some day, a paper all his own, dreams of -taking over some "small-town" paper, -dreams of running it his own way and -indulging his own ideas of how a paper -should be run, dreams of wealth and fame -in consequence. Once in a thousand cases, -perhaps, the dream comes true. -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis was at the end of his own -particular dream. A college man, a star -reporter on a Chicago daily, he had saved -his money, and, at twenty-three, had become -the owner of <i>The Clarion</i> in the sleepy -little town of Marshville. -</p> - -<p> -A meteoric year had ensued. Tom Dennis -had gone to work to wake up Marshville—and -he had succeeded. He had wakened -Marshville to a lively animosity, a deadly -resentment that a stranger should come in -here and give advice. Marshville knew that -it was a sleepy, dying, vicious, ingrowing -little town—and Marshville wanted to be -just that kind of town! So, when Tom -Dennis tried to root out the viciousness -and decay, Marshville was angered. -</p> - -<p> -Six months passed, and the last of Tom -Dennis' money was gone. He mortgaged -the whole property, lock, stock, and barrel, -and went on fighting. He had gleams of -success, and the letters of Florence Hathaway -had inspired him to renewed efforts, but -now the end had come. He must either -borrow on his personal credit, which was -not extensive enough to carry him very long, -or else go under. -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "A smart Yankee packet lay out in the bay,<br /> - To me way hay, o-<i>hi</i>-o!<br /> - A-waiting for a fair wind to get under way,<br /> - A long time ago!"<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The voice—a musing rumbling voice—came -from the outer office, and it was a -voice strange to Tom Dennis. But he scarce -heard the words, or the swinging air. His -hand had clenched upon the sheaf of papers, -and his head had lowered. Chin to breast, -he was in the agony of defeat; despite himself, -despite his rugged features, slow tears -were groping on his cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -Those tears were not for himself, not for -the fact of his failure here. A year ago -Tom Dennis would have taken his defeat -with a laugh and a joke, and he had not -changed. It was not self-misery which drew -those man's tears to his cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -He was thinking of Florence Hathaway. -He had found her here in the <i>Clarion</i> office -a year ago, a society reporter; she was then -supporting her slowly-dying mother. Two -years previously her father, Captain Miles -Hathaway, had been lost at sea somewhere -in the Pacific; the girl had brought her -mother back to Marshville, the mother's -old home town, and there the mother had -died. This had been three months after the -coming of Tom Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -For another three months, Florence -Hathaway had stayed on with the -<i>Clarion</i>—largely for love of Tom Dennis. Then -had come the offer of a teacher's position -in a private school in Chicago, and she had -accepted the offer. -</p> - -<p> -Not that Dennis wanted her to accept—far -from it! They had argued it all out that -night, under the willow trees by the river. -Her hand in his, the girl had made Tom -Dennis face a few hard facts. She was the -rare kind who can make a man realize -things. -</p> - -<p> -"Tom, dear," she had said gently, -"another year will see you firmly established -here in Marshville. Until then we can't -dare marry; it isn't fair to you! Get clear -of financial worries first. Not that I care -about the money, Tom, but I do care so -much about you; and now you're talking -about mortgaging the paper, and it's bearing -you down." -</p> - -<p> -"And if I fail?" -</p> - -<p> -"Then come to me in Chicago, and we'll -start fresh—together." -</p> - -<p> -"But why go there? Stay here where you -can help me most! It's your society stuff -that does most good——" -</p> - -<p> -"No, dear, Marshville hates you; you -must conquer or be conquered, and you don't -know how terribly bitter Marshville can be. -It's like any small town, Tom. They're -all against you now, and if I stay on the -paper, they'll be talking—about us. Besides, -I don't like the place. I want to be in Chicago -a little while, mistress of myself, enjoying -a little bit of real life and real things. I'll -come back to you here, or you'll come to -me there, Tom, and——" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Now, as he sat in the dingy back room, -Tom Dennis thought over these things, and -his pride revolted within him. He could -not go back to his old job, admitting that -he had made a failure of his paper, admitting -that he was good for nothing better than a -reporter's job. He could not go to Florence -Hathaway—a failure! He had tasted of -freedom, and now it seemed to him that a -reporter's was a dog's life. He would not -go back to it. He would not ask her to face -it all, even though she might be willing— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "We didn't get a drink for seventeen days,<br /> - To me way hay, o-<i>hi</i>-o!<br /> - And nobody cared if she hung in stays,<br /> - A <i>long</i> time ago!"<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Dimly the words penetrated the consciousness -of Tom Dennis, roused him slightly. -Who was in the outer office? Well, no -matter. The bank owned it now—tight-lipped -old banker Dribble up the street, -who owned everything. -</p> - -<p> -"It wasn't a fair fight, maybe," muttered -Tom Dennis, sudden storm in his eyes. -"They lied to me right and left. The -advertising contracts were faked on me. -They tried to stab me in the back whenever -they had a chance—and they did it, too! -But there's no use sobbing over all that." -</p> - -<p> -He would have to leave town, of course—the -sooner the better. He might as well -take the evening train to Chicago and make -his plans to start afresh. There was nothing -to hold him here; everything was paid, -even to the interest on the mortgage. The -mortgage still had six months to run. -</p> - -<p> -"Why not?" Dennis suddenly came to -his feet. "I can shut up this coop, and -they can't touch it for six months! The -property may deteriorate, of course; mice -will eat the rollers, and the ink will dry up, -and the presses won't be oiled—but that's -old Dribble's lookout, not mine! I still -have six months left! A stroke of luck——" -</p> - -<p> -"Ahoy, matey!" billowed a voice. "Ahoy, -Dennis! Where are you, skipper?" -</p> - -<p> -A monstrous voice was that, a roaring -thunderous voice that filled the dingy old -back room with rolling waves of sound. -Startled, Tom Dennis reached to the nearest -electric bulb, switched it on, and directed -the light toward the door of the outer office. -</p> - -<p> -There, standing in the doorway, he saw -a surprising figure. The stranger was two -inches taller than Dennis, who himself stood -six feet one. Not particularly well dressed -was the intruder—rough blue serge, manifestly -hand-me-downs, and a white soft shirt -with loosely-knotted cravat. But the -face—the face was the thing! -</p> - -<p> -A peculiar face it was, for in it was -emphasized the trait common to most men. -Its left side was regular enough. The right -brow, however, was uptwisted satanically; -the right side of the mouth was down-twisted -in a leer. Seldom had Tom Dennis -seen this dissimilarity between the two sides -of a man's face so pronounced. Aside from -this, it was a massive strong face, lighted -by two very direct, piercing, predatory eyes -of light-blue, and crowned by flaming red hair. -</p> - -<p> -"Ha!" said the stranger, coming forward. -"You're Dennis?" -</p> - -<p> -"You're right." And a sour smile twisted -the lips of the newspaper man. "My name -is Dennis, right enough. You've got another -bill to present?" -</p> - -<p> -The other halted, and stared at him. -</p> - -<p> -"Bill?" he repeated. "Bill? Paying your -bills, are you?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis laughed shortly. "You bet. I'm -clearing out of here to-night. Well, how -much is it? Guess I can scrape up enough -to pay it; if not, there's a typewriter out -in front you can take along. Thought I'd -cleared 'em all off, though——" -</p> - -<p> -The stranger threw back his head and -laughed. That laugh was a roaring billow -of sound, as though the red-head were -accustomed to fling his laughter into the -teeth of a singing gale. -</p> - -<p> -"Ho-ho!" he cried boisterously. "Slipping -your cable, hey? Gone under, hey? Another -poor swab who can't beat the shyster -law-clerks and has gone under! Well, do what -I did, matey. I was in the same boat myself, -oncet—and I run off to sea! Strike me blind -if it wasn't the makin' of me! Now, if -you'll take my advice and do the same -thing——" -</p> - -<p> -"What do you want?" snapped Dennis -suddenly. "I'm not asking for your advice, -my friend. Have you business with me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Aye." The other came forward, hand -extended. His voice was conciliating. -"Come, no harm done by a bit o' fun, -matey! None intended, none took. My -name's Ericksen; they calls me Boatswain -Joe, mostly, though I've got a quartermaster's -ticket in me oilskin. I want a -bit o' talk, if you have the time." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm rich in time," responded Dennis. -"Take a seat." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -As they shook hands, Dennis felt the -palm of Ericksen to be horny, rough with -great calluses; but the thumb lay over the -back of his own fingers with smooth -pressure. A sailor, then, and one used to -handling lines! That explained the odd -snatches of lingo. But what was a sailor -doing here, in the middle of the United -States? -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen eased himself up on a high -stool, stuffed loose tobacco from his pocket -into a pipe-bowl and struck a match. His -piercing, arrogant, light-blue eyes surveyed -Tom Dennis with a comprehensive scrutiny. -</p> - -<p> -"I hear," he said abruptly, a cloud of -smoke issuing from his lips, "I hear you -and Miss Hathaway are engaged to be -married." -</p> - -<p> -His voice was still conciliatory, rather -bearing an air of a forced whine, and it -was entirely belied by those fierce -predatory eyes. Tom Dennis flushed angrily. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you driving at?" he demanded. -"What have my private affairs to do with -you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Don't flare up, matey," responded the -other. "I'm comin' to the p'int, steerin' -a safe course meantime. 'Keep an eye on -your charts, boatswain,' says the skipper, -'and look out for shoals among them -land-sharks.' So I'm doin' it. Of course, knowing -the inside of the country pretty well, comin' -from Wisconsin way like I do, I'm able to -navigate better'n the others would be; but -just the same, I'm mindin' my wheel mighty -close. 'No steerin' by the wind this cruise,' -says the skipper, and right he was." -</p> - -<p> -This was all Greek to Tom Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what do you want with me?" -he reiterated. -</p> - -<p> -"You answer my question, matey," -returned the other calmly. -</p> - -<p> -"None of your business, then," snapped Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -To his surprise, Ericksen only chuckled -good-humouredly, and slapped his knee as -though at a good joke. -</p> - -<p> -"I knowed it! You are, right enough. -Goin' to Chicago to get spliced, maybe?" -</p> - -<p> -The hand of Dennis closed on a printer's -key, but Ericksen interposed. -</p> - -<p> -"Here, don't start no rumpus, matey! -You see, I got to know the chart before -I can lay my course. Ain't that reasonable? -I got to this here town this afternoon, -lookin' for Miss Hathaway, and first one, -then another, tells me she's gone to Chicago, -but they don't know exactly where. They -said to come here an' find you, you bein' -supposed to know for private reasons. Ain't -that statin' it plain and unoffensive? That's -me every time. 'Mind your jaw-tackle, -boatswain,' says the skipper. 'Be mild -an' gentle.' And I am." -</p> - -<p> -The sailor grinned. So cheerful and -white-toothed was that grin, that Tom Dennis felt -impelled to laugh, but the arrogant, light-blue -eyes steadied him. -</p> - -<p> -"You want Miss Hathaway's address—is that it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Part of it, matey," responded Ericksen. -"Only part of it!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER II -<br /><br /> -NEWS FROM NOWHERE -</h3> - -<p> -Florence Hathaway was extremely -astonished when, upon Sunday morning, she -heard the voice of Tom Dennis on the -telephone, and received a request to join him -down-town for noon dinner. -</p> - -<p> -"Come up to the school, Tom!" she -returned. "You can dine in hall as my -guest. And what brought you to town?" -</p> - -<p> -"Can't talk now, Florence. And I'll have -to refuse your invitation—because we'll all -three have to dine down-town. Better make -it the 'Royton'; then we can have comparative -privacy." -</p> - -<p> -"All three?" she echoed. "Who's with you?" -</p> - -<p> -"A man who has news of your father, -dear. He's to join us at the 'Royton' at -one sharp, but I want to see you for a few -moments first. Why not meet me at the -Art Institute about twelve-thirty? I'll be -in the Japanese Room. Believe me, it's -important!" -</p> - -<p> -"News of—father? Why, yes! I'll be -there on time, Tom. Japanese Room!" -</p> - -<p> -So, at the hour when the galleries were -totally deserted, Tom Dennis was striding -up and down in the Japanese Room, past -the cases filled with lacquer ware. In his -present mood of frowning meditation, his -features looked almost forbidding; they were -strong features, rugged with an uncompromising -virility. Looking at them, one could -understand how this man, unaided, had -first worked his way through college and had -later gone to the top of an overcrowded -profession. -</p> - -<p> -On time almost to the minute, Florence -Hathaway appeared. Dennis met her at -the door, his hand to hers; a swift glance -around, and he bent his lips to hers. -</p> - -<p> -"This way, dear!" he said, turning. -"There'll be no interruptions then." -</p> - -<p> -Together they made their way outside -to one of the little balconies overlooking -the smoky park and lake front. Brushing off -two of the chairs, Tom Dennis set them by -the stone rail. -</p> - -<p> -"What on earth is it all about, Tom?" -asked the girl wonderingly. -</p> - -<p> -"Me, first—then you," smiling he filled -his pipe and lighted it. Then he set about -his tale, beginning with his own situation -of the previous afternoon, and passing on to -the coming of Boatswain Joe. He described -his own hopeless case very bluntly and -frankly. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Florence Hathaway did not interrupt him, -but sat in silence, her eyes fastened upon his -rugged face, reading there the signs of his -past worries and failure. They were fine -eyes, those that dwelt upon him with love -and tenderness. An artist might have said -that they were too large for her face, that -their glowing brown depths held too passionate -a fervor, too calmly poised a radiance, -to match her almost colourless cheeks. By -no rule could Florence Hathaway be adjudged -beautiful; and yet Marshville had missed -her more than all its other absent daughters -put together. -</p> - -<p> -In her eyes, indeed, lay the brave and -tender soul of Florence Hathaway. Frail -seemed her slender, almost girlish body; -yet one who gazed into her level eyes knew -that hers was an indomitable spirit—a heritage -perhaps, from that lost father whose iron -soul had battled the men and winds and seas -of half the world. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you've left Marshville for good?" -she asked quietly when Dennis paused. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." He nodded curtly. "The place -will be shut for six months. If I've not -returned by that time, if I've not struck some -lucky vein, old Dribble can foreclose his -mortgage and be blessed! Of course, I'm -not gambling on striking it rich in a hurry; -it's just a long chance that still remains. -Well, now that's settled, let's get on about -your friend Ericksen. You never heard -of anyone by that name?" -</p> - -<p> -"No. He may have known my father——" -</p> - -<p> -"I'm coming to that. Ericksen had come -from the Pacific Coast to find you—in -person; mark that down as Point One, upper -case! Why in person, when a letter or -telegram would have fetched you? Point -One—Query! I don't like that fellow's -looks. -</p> - -<p> -"Point Two: he tells a very fishy sort -of tale—namely, that your father was not -lost at sea at all, but was rescued——" -</p> - -<p> -"What?" broke in the girl, leaning forward. -Again Dennis nodded, imperturbable. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, if you care to believe it. I don't! -He says that your father was taken into -Unalaska by some natives who had found -him on one of the Aleut islands—he was then -down with something like what used to be -called 'brain fever'. It left him quite -paralysed. He was taken to Vancouver and is -now in a sailors' home there. Being paralysed, -barely able to keep alive, he has been -unable to tell his name—mind you, this is -all Boatswain Joe's narrative. -</p> - -<p> -"Ericksen, or some of his friends, saw -your father there and recognized him, and -promptly took him in charge. Do you get -that, Florence? They have him in a house -in Vancouver now, taking care of him. -Point Two! They are not philanthropists; -why did they do this? Why did they not -communicate with the authorities? Why -do they send Boatswain Joe to get you?" -</p> - -<p> -"To get—me?" The girl's brown eyes -shone eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Ericksen wants you to go and -see your father, wants you to try to -communicate with him. Why? I don't know. -Probably your father knows something that -Ericksen or his friends want to know. Well, -I suppose you'd go quick enough, if you -believed the story?" -</p> - -<p> -"Go?" she flashed. "Of course! To-day—now!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ericksen seemed to think you might not," -said Dennis dryly. "He offered me a thousand -dollars to persuade you to go. I refused -to give him your address; we came to Chicago -together last night, and I told him you'd -meet us for dinner. That's all. Point Three, -why did he offer me that money?" -</p> - -<p> -He was silent for a minute, then knocked -out his pipe and swung around to face her. -</p> - -<p> -"Look squarely at it, Florence: there's -something mighty queer in the wind! Point -one: why did Boatswain Joe come in person -to get you? Point two: why are his friends -taking care of your father? Point three: -why do they try to bribe me to persuade -you to go? I don't like it." -</p> - -<p> -She gazed at him silently, frowningly. -</p> - -<p> -"I can't answer any of those questions," -she said at last, slowly. "But if my father -is alive, and in that condition—my place -is with him! Let's leave it until we see -this man. He will perhaps have some proofs -to offer me. He would have no incentive to -tell such a story if it were not true.... -About yourself, Tom: what do you intend -to do now?" -</p> - -<p> -He laughed shortly. "I've scarcely thought -about it, Florence; this other thing has been -on my mind all night. But I know this: -I'll not let you go West in company with -that sailor! That's dead sure. If his story -is really true, then I'm going along, somehow!" -</p> - -<p> -He glanced at his watch, and rose. "Time! -Say nothing definite to Ericksen. Listen -to him and form your own conclusions. -Make an appointment with him for -to-morrow to give him your answer; better -make it for the 'Royton' again. Make him -agree to pay our expenses West." -</p> - -<p> -"You know I'll not take his money, Tom—on -such an errand." -</p> - -<p> -"I will, though." And Dennis laughed. -"I'm down to thirty-four dollars! Besides, -I want to see just how readily he'll agree -to shell out real money. There's something -queer about that crowd's being willing to -pay so high to get you to Vancouver!" -</p> - -<p> -"All sailors are generous," said the girl -softly. "Perhaps some friends of father's -are behind it." -</p> - -<p> -"They didn't telegraph you, did they? -Well, we shall see. Anyway—draw him out!" -</p> - -<p> -In silence they regained the corridors, -descended the wide staircase, and sought -the street. Presently they entered a deserted -lobby and gained the elevator running to -the restaurant above. -</p> - -<p> -When they stepped out of the car, they -found Boatswain Joe awaiting them, manifestly -ill at ease, and obviously an object -of some suspicion on the part of the restaurant -people. Dennis, knowing the head waiter -of old, gained a quiet table in a corner and -ordered dinner. -</p> - -<p> -He was covertly watching Florence, to -see how she took to the seaman; but she -was plainly doing her best to put Ericksen -at his ease. Amid these surroundings, he -was anything but comfortable. The linen -and silver, the table appointments, the -orchestra, the general surroundings—all -abashed and discomfited him. Tom Dennis -grinned to himself, for this was precisely -what he had aimed at. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -But Boatswain Joe was there for a purpose -and lost no time getting about it. Florence -Hathaway, too, was wildly eager to -authenticate the news of her father, and -urged him to tell his story at once. So -Ericksen, by the time the soup arrived, -was into it full swing and was forgetting -his own awkwardness and the girl's presence; -bashfulness left him, and he told the story -more in detail than he had to Dennis—perhaps -under the spell of those glowing -brown eyes. -</p> - -<p> -And Dennis, studying the man, realized -that Ericksen was no fool. He had guessed -as much from the twisted lines of the face. -Now, the more he listened, the more Dennis -felt that Boatswain Joe had been well chosen -for his present errand. The man presented -the story of Captain Hathaway with a -simplicity which carried conviction. -</p> - -<p> -"So, ma'am, the skipper and the missus -are takin' care of him," he concluded. -"The skipper says to me: 'If the lady wants -proof, boatswain, you give it to her!' So, -ma'am, I got some pictures took showin' -all of us." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen took an envelope from his pocket -and passed it to the girl. She drew forth -some photographs—and her face went -white. -</p> - -<p> -"Look here, Ericksen!" Dennis leaned -forward, his eyes gripping the gaze of the -sailor. "There are some things we don't -understand. Why did you come in person -to find Miss Hathaway? Who's your skipper, -and why is he taking care of Captain -Hathaway? Why are you spending so much -money on the project?" -</p> - -<p> -The arrogant, light-blue eyes flashed -suddenly—a flash of suspicion, of anger. -</p> - -<p> -"Sailormen don't count pennies," said the -man curtly. "Besides, the skipper—Cap'n -Pontifex—he used to know Cap'n Hathaway. -Friends, they were." -</p> - -<p> -"And he expects to get some information -through Miss Hathaway?" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen's freckled features reddened. His -one satanic eyebrow twitched upward. -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, that's true enough; but what it is, -ain't for me to say. 'You mind your jaw-tackle, -boatswain,' says the skipper. That's all." -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Dennis will go West with us," said -Florence Hathaway softly, extending the -pictures to Dennis. "You will furnish -expenses, Mr. Ericksen?" -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, miss." In the light-blue eyes Dennis -read a sudden avid gleam. They were very -dangerous, those eyes, very predatory and -unscrupulous. "Aye, miss—here an' now." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The seaman drew from his pocket a small -roll of bills and counted off three fifties -which he extended to Dennis. The latter -took them. The eyes of the two men met -and held; and again Dennis felt that sense -of enmity, of forced geniality, as though -the man were concealing a deadly hostility -beneath a show of eager conciliation. First -Boatswain Joe had desired to propitiate -him; now he desired to propitiate Florence -Hathaway. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis shoved the money into his pocket, -despite a glance of entreaty from the girl. -</p> - -<p> -The photographs numbered four; in each -was shown a figure in a wheel-chair—and -the figure was that of Captain Hathaway. -Dennis had seen other and older pictures of -Florence Hathaway's father, and he recognized -at once that massive countenance, that -giant frame, those wide and unafraid eyes. -He looked less at this figure, however, than -at those others showing in the pictures. -</p> - -<p> -One was Captain Pontifex—a man tall -and thin, face cavernous and pallid, with -deep-sunk eyes and a curled black moustache. -Another was that of Mrs. Pontifex—"the -Missus", as Boatswain Joe termed her; her -face was indistinct, although her figure -seemed very large. In two of the pictures -Ericksen himself showed. The only other -figure was that of a black man, quite -indistinct, whom Ericksen described as the -skipper's mate, Manuel Mendez, a "black -Portuguese" from the Cape Verde Islands. -Tom Dennis returned the envelope to -Ericksen. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't want your thousand dollars," -he said quietly. "I've told Miss Hathaway -all you said to me, and your offer of a bribe; -it is not necessary." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen was quite unperturbed. -</p> - -<p> -"Then, miss, I take it that you'll go?" -</p> - -<p> -Florence smiled at him; and when she -smiled, her frail features were suddenly -lighted as by warm sunshine. -</p> - -<p> -"Meet us here for luncheon to-morrow, -Mr. Ericksen, and I'll give you my decision." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, ma'am—and if I may say so, -there's a bit o' haste." -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly. If we go, we'll be ready to -catch the limited at eight to-morrow night." -</p> - -<p> -"Couldn't ask no better, miss!" exclaimed -the sailor. "Shipshape talk; that's what it -is. 'If we go,' says you, 'we'll go on the -jump'—just like that! Aye, all Bristol-fashion -and trim! I'm proud to ha' met -you, Miss Hathaway, and I hope you'll be -able to get a few words out o' your poor -father." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen checked himself abruptly, as -though he had said too much. But he did -not ask any questions concerning the money -he had given Dennis; and this, to the mind -of Dennis was an unnatural and puzzling -fact, for Ericksen would hardly have handed -over the money unless he were certain of -Florence Hathaway's decision. The entire -attitude of this seaman was puzzling in the -extreme. His money carelessness might be -explained by the fact that Captain Pontifex -was backing him—but it looked queer. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Something of these thoughts was troubling -Tom Dennis as he left the building with -Florence Hathaway; they had parted with -Ericksen in the restaurant lobby, seemingly -to the entire satisfaction of the seaman. -Dennis had already phoned for a taxicab, -and as they went bowling up toward the -North Shore, the girl noticed his silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Tom? A penny for your thoughts!" -</p> - -<p> -"I was wondering what Ericksen's game -can be—and who that Cap'n Pontifex is!" -</p> - -<p> -"I never heard of him. Certainly father -never mentioned him. Well, you're going -to keep that money?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. It's fair loot from the enemy." -</p> - -<p> -"Enemy? But, Tom—surely you don't -think Ericksen and his friends——" -</p> - -<p> -"I'm convinced that there's something -back of it all, Florence, something we don't -know about! And that it's nothing very good." -</p> - -<p> -The girl laughed. "Oh, Tom, you're -delicious! Well, suit yourself; we'll go -West to-morrow night—that is, I'm going. -You can only go on one condition." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes?" He looked at her, suspicious of -the twinkle in her eyes. "What is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Tell you in a minute, dear. Now, it's -true that you've failed in Marshville?" -</p> - -<p> -"Absolutely and utterly." -</p> - -<p> -"And you don't know what you're going to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"It would be very foolish for us to marry, -wouldn't it—especially with poor father to -be taken care of? I have eight hundred -dollars in the bank—a little surprise for -you dear; but we shall probably have to -stay West and get a fresh start. And, Tom, -it'll take a long time before we get on our -feet, won't it?" -</p> - -<p> -He stared gloomily at the taxicab window, -bitterly conscious that she spoke the truth. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course," he assented. "I had no -intention of coming to you, a failure, and -holding you to your promise, Florence." His -voice was harsh. "I doubt if I would -have come, only that this other affair brought -me. You're quite right. It would be criminal -for us to marry, with only a few dollars in -the world, and your helpless father——" -</p> - -<p> -"Hush!" Her hand fluttered over his -lips, and he promptly kissed it. "Don't -say that it would be criminal, Tom; it -would only be foolish." -</p> - -<p> -"What's the condition?" he insisted. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm coming to that. You admit, then, -that in our present circumstances we should -play the safe game, wait until we get -established in the West, and until we get on -our feet financially?" -</p> - -<p> -"We ought to, of course," he nodded, -storm in his eyes. "It would be folly to -face poverty, to assume everything——" -</p> - -<p> -"Isn't it very foolish to be in love at all, -Tom, dear?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not with you! That's something nobody -could help." -</p> - -<p> -"Then this is my condition; and if you -refuse, you can't go West! To-morrow -morning we shall be married. We shall -deliberately be foolish—assume our burdens, -have each other and make the best of things! -Oh, don't stare at me. Don't you think -my love and confidence and faith in you -are supreme, dear? They are. We'll only -win by daring—so we shall dare everything! -And with each other, Tom—we -shall win!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER III -<br /><br /> -LAYING A COURSE -</h3> - -<p> -When the dinner was over, Boatswain -Joe was in no haste to leave the restaurant; -but he returned to the table and ordered a -drink, having seen Dennis and Florence -Hathaway depart. As he had already paid -for the meal, giving the waiter a handsome -<i>pourboire</i>, no objection was made to his -remaining as long as he wished. He stated -that he expected a telephone-call. -</p> - -<p> -Nearly an hour later, indeed, the waiter -summoned him to the lobby. Ericksen took -up the telephone-receiver and said: "Aye, -matey!" Then he listened. Again he said: -"Aye, matey!" and hung up the receiver. -</p> - -<p> -He took the elevator to the street and -briskly walked the two and a half blocks -to a down-town hotel. It appeared that -he was stopping here, for he went directly -to the desk, demanded his key, then vanished -in the elevator. -</p> - -<p> -Fifteen minutes later a man inquired at -the desk for Mr. Ericksen, and was shown -to the room occupied by Boatswain Joe. -This second man was as peculiar in -appearance as the red-haired boatswain. He -was rather small, very dapper in looks, and -wore a tight little moustache on his upper -lip. His movements were swift, agile, -extremely alert. One would have said that -he was a Frenchman, although upon entering -Ericksen's room he spoke in good English. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, Boatswain! Well done, my friend; -you described them excellently." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen regarded him with a twisted smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you followed them?" -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly. They went to a place on the -North Side, a girls' school where she teaches; -presently he came out and walked to a -lodging-house on North Clark Street. I -followed him inside and engaged a room -adjoining his, which I shall occupy this -afternoon. He is on the third <i>étage</i>—what -you call—yes, flight! Upstairs." -</p> - -<p> -"Good, Dumont." Ericksen ran his fingers -through his tousled red hair. "We've made -quick work of it, eh? Got here two days -ago, and ready to slip our cable to-morrow -night. 'Move sharp,,' says the Skipper; -'crack on all sail!' And we've done it. -Hey? You've got your stuff all complete?" -</p> - -<p> -Dumont lighted a cigarette and blew a -thin cloud, nodding. -</p> - -<p> -"All done. Everything is to be ready for -me to-morrow morning. I shall inspect it; -then it will be packed in a special suitcase, -ready for the shipment." -</p> - -<p> -"Good. We're leaving to-morrow night -at eight bells or thereabouts. Get your -ticket in the morning, and check the stuff on -it. Sure it's what the Skipper ordered?" -</p> - -<p> -Dumont inspected him with a sleepy -cattish smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Me, my friend, I make no mistakes. Ah, -that skipper of ours! He is a marvel, a great -man! It is not every man who can improve -upon the so-wonderful Dumas! But this -our skipper, he does so—pouf! Like that. -To him—it is nothing at all." -</p> - -<p> -"I dunno about that there Dumaw," returned -Ericksen. "I used to know a guy o' -that name, a nigger mate on the <i>Columbia</i> -packet out o' Singapore——" -</p> - -<p> -Dumont chuckled. "Worry not your so -red head, my friend! Now, suppose you -have the goodness to explain? Who is this -man with the big body and the dangerous -eyes?" -</p> - -<p> -"Dangerous, rats!" Ericksen snorted. "On -his uppers, he is. Ran foul o' law-sharks -an' got laid on his beam-ends. He's -suspicious; that's all. He and the lady are -goin' to get spliced, see? Or they think -they are. His name's Dennis. He means to -go West with us." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The sleepy eyes of Dumont suddenly -opened. They became very black and -flashing. His white teeth showed beneath -his tiny moustache in a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I see! It is in that direction the -land lies! Well, let him come. Let our -so-wonderful skipper take care of him!" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen shook his head. "Nope. Skipper -says: 'Boatswain, don't you bring no -barnacles along! Bring that young lady—and -no barnacles.' Skipper knowed what he was -about; strike me blind if he didn't! So -Mr. Dennis he stays here." -</p> - -<p> -Dumont regarded his companion with an -admiring air. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, you have the head, my friend! You -have not the looks, perhaps, but the -head——" -</p> - -<p> -"What's the matter with my looks, -Frenchy?" demanded Ericksen suddenly, -regarding the smaller man with steady eyes. -"Come, now! Step aft an' speak it out, -you! What's the matter with 'em?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing in particular—merely the general -aspect." And Dumont cocked his head on -one side in pretended survey. Then he broke -into laughter. "<i>Drôle</i>! You cannot afford -to fight with me, eh? No. And you know -better. Eh? I have always desired, my -friend, to get my finger in that left eye of -yours; it looks so devilish! I always -wondered how the socket would look—if there -were not a little devil sitting there, -<i>couchant</i>!" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen changed countenance suddenly, -and sat back in his seat. Behind those -jesting words of Dumont's there lay a -grotesque speculation—an earnestness, even! -The dapper little man assumed a frightful -air, an air of abnormality. One sensed that -he spoke of tearing out a man's eye with -calm enjoyment, as though—as though he -had done it before this. -</p> - -<p> -"You're right, hearty," said Ericksen, -wetting his lips. "Right-o! No trouble in -the after cabin, and there'll be none forward. -What were we speakin' of? Oh, yes! Dennis. -Well, you go and occupy that room to-night, -and do your business to-morrow morning, -then go back there. Dennis will mess with -me an' the lady to-morrow noon, see? You -get me a scrap of his fist—or better, take a -squint at it and copy this here entry in the -log." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen took from the table a paper -bearing a few lines of writing, on which he -had been engaged when Dumont entered, and -passed it to his friend. The latter scrutinised -the writing, and chuckled softly. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! For the lady, eh? Ah, what a -head you have! It is wasted upon you, my -friend. It should have gone with such -intelligence as mine." -</p> - -<p> -"You lay off them personal remarks, -Frenchy," snapped Ericksen suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, matey," retorted the other with -mocking air. "Well? What next?" -</p> - -<p> -"You telephone me here right after noon -mess. I'll be able to give you Dennis' -afternoon programme then. You've got to stop -him from taking that train to-morrow -night—an' stop him hard! Don't forget to take -all his money, either—strip him to the bone." -</p> - -<p> -Dumont shrugged. "What would you? -Here in Chicago are the police, and I like -them not. It is not as if we were aboard the -<i>Pelican</i>, my friend." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, don't kill him," snapped Ericksen -impatiently. "Merely a good stiff jolt that -will leave him on his back a few days. And -do it at the last minute, too. 'Take no -chances, Boatswain,' says the Skipper, 'and -if there's any wind in sight, get your -top-canvas down.' So do it at the last minute, -and then get the train. Have a taxi waiting." -</p> - -<p> -"All right." Dumont straightened up. -"Let's go see a picture-show, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen assented with a grunt. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Promptly at one o'clock on Monday, -Boatswain Joe was waiting in the lobby of -the Royton restaurant, when Tom Dennis -and Florence were deposited by the elevator. -With a cheerful grin on his freckled features, -Ericksen approached them. -</p> - -<p> -"Good day to you. 'Two bells,' says you, -and two bells it is, all shipshape! It's fine -and rosy ye look, ma'am!" -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you, Mr. Ericksen." And under -his light-blue predatory eyes the girl blushed -as she shook hands. "I've been shopping -this morning, and that always makes a -woman happy, you know!" -</p> - -<p> -They entered the breakfast-room, where -the waiter, mindful of Ericksen's tip, led -them to a table by one of the front windows -overlooking the Art Institute and the -sparkling blue lake front. -</p> - -<p> -"Does it remind you of the sea?" Tom -Dennis motioned toward the blue horizon, -and smiled at the sailor. -</p> - -<p> -"In a way, yes. It looks like the sea down -south, under the Line." -</p> - -<p> -"You've been in the South Seas?" asked -the girl quickly. Ericksen met her gaze, and -seemed a trifle embarrassed. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes'm, oncet or twicet. I been whalin' -with Cap'n Pontifex, you know, all us -whalers work off Lower California and across -to the islands 'fore going north—that is, we -used to. Nowadays things change. 'There's -no tellin' at all,' says the Skipper, 'what -kind of a wind is rising these days.' And -Skipper's right." -</p> - -<p> -"You seem to like your skipper." Florence -laughed. "Is he a nice man?" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen's down-drawn left lip twitched -as if in repression of a grimace. -</p> - -<p> -"Nice is as nice does, hey? I reckon he's -all right, Miss Hathaway." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you mustn't call me that any more," -said the girl calmly, and held out her hand. -"Look at the present I got an hour ago!" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Ericksen's predatory eyes fastened upon -the gold circlet. His face whitened. Tom -Dennis, watching intently, saw the man's -lips open and form a silent unspoken curse. -In the light-blue eyes he read a message of -astounded incredulity, of passionate anger. -</p> - -<p> -"You—you've been an' got spliced!" -Ericksen, speaking hoarsely, looked at -Florence. His face changed suddenly. He -plunged to his feet and extended a horny -hand across the table toward Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"Strike me blind!" he ejaculated. "Took -me all of a heap, it did! Well, sir, this is a -surprise! And only an hour ago, you say? -Congratulations, and may you always have -a fair course and a bone in your teeth; aye, -and a good cargo under hatches! Well, -well—strike me blind if I'd thought this was -goin' to happen! We'll have a bottle o' -fizz-wine, hey? A toast all around—real -weddin' dinner! And to think o' me sittin' -here with no present, nothin' but an honest -sailor-man's hearty good wishes to give—why, -it fair breaks me up!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, we decided to make the trip West -our honeymoon," said Tom Dennis, with a -smile at Florence. "It was too good a chance -to miss, Boatswain." -</p> - -<p> -"Then—then you're going, hey? To-night?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Mr. Ericksen." Florence nodded. -"And believe me, I'd sooner have your good -wishes than all the presents in the world! -Good wishes mean lots more, don't they?" -</p> - -<p> -"Sometimes, miss. Ha—I mean, -Mrs. Dennis—sometimes," assented Ericksen -solemnly. "And to think o' you springing -it on me that way—why, it took me all -aback, it did!" -</p> - -<p> -So the "fizz-wine" came and was drunk -with many toasts. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -In the course of the luncheon it developed -that Florence was to spend the afternoon -packing for the trip, and would dine at the -school in order to save time. Tom Dennis, -who had in view an endeavour to secure -orders for some special articles on the West -from his former newspaper editors, arranged -to call for her in time to make the train that -night. -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen insisted upon protracting the -luncheon with a second bottle of "fizz-wine" -in honour of the occasion; afterward -all three departed, and separated at the -Adams Street entrance to the "L", where -the newly-married couple said farewell to -Boatswain Joe. -</p> - -<p> -No sooner had they vanished up the stairway -than Boatswain Joe made all haste to -his hotel. He found no message at the desk; -but when he entered his room he found -Dumont awaiting him. -</p> - -<p> -"You—here! What's up, Frenchy?" -</p> - -<p> -Smilingly, Dumont extended him a note -Ericksen seized it and examined it with -quick approval. -</p> - -<p> -"It was very easily done, my friend," -said Dumont, yawning sleepily. "So I came -here myself. You seem to be irritated, eh? -What is the matter?" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen gave vent to a full-blown curse. -</p> - -<p> -"Matter enough! Here that swab has been -and married her this mornin'!" -</p> - -<p> -Dumont's brows lifted. He uttered a long -whistle. -</p> - -<p> -"They are married! Well, Cap'n Pontifex, -he will not like that, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -"Blast it!" snarled Ericksen. "Don't you -see what it means?" -</p> - -<p> -"More or less," Dumont spat out the words -with venom. "It means that the Skipper -promised me the girl, eh? And that now he -will try——" -</p> - -<p> -"You bloody fool!" roared Ericksen, -smashing his big fist down on the table. -"Don't it mean squalls ahead of us all? -Don't it mean that instead of havin' her to -deal with, now we have him too? Don't it -mean that he's signed up for a share in old -Hathaway's leavin's? And if we don't -scuttle him, then he'll scuttle us!" -</p> - -<p> -Dumont caressed his moustache, his dark -yes narrowed and alert. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Mille tonnerre</i>!" he ejaculated slowly. -"You are right. He is the old man's -son-in-law, eh? Ah, but you have the head, my -friend! You see the things, yes! And her -signature would be no good, eh?" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Ericksen rammed tobacco into his pipe and -held his peace for a moment, until the briar -was smoking. -</p> - -<p> -"Now," he said shortly, "that train leaves -to-night at one bell?" -</p> - -<p> -"Eight and the half," assented Dumont -with a nod. -</p> - -<p> -"He's goin' to call for her about eight -bells, see? He'll prob'ly be in his room -stowin' his dunnage bag about six bells. -You have to scuttle him, Frenchy—all -proper. Open the sea-cocks and stand by -the ship till she's gone. No mistake!" -</p> - -<p> -"And the madame?" queried Dumont. -"Who will call for her?" -</p> - -<p> -"I will. And this here note you've -written——" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, now I understand!" Dumont -chuckled softly. "You have the head, my -friend! Good. I must scuttle this fellow, -eh? Well, it is for all our sakes now. And -by the way, I have taken a compartment, so -that I could keep my eye on the suitcase -better. The Skipper said to be careful. I -had to buy another ticket." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen merely waved his hand carelessly. -"You scuttle that swab, Frenchy, and money -won't cut no figure. So you'll carry the -suitcase, eh? Better send it down to the -train ahead of you. 'Don't get your lines -tangled,' says the Skipper. You mind that! -I'll sleep with you in the compartment, eh? -All right." -</p> - -<p> -"All right," assented the other. "I'll -send the suitcase down to the train. Now -see, my friend! Is it not humorous—what -you call the paradox? In order to make our -little venture legal, we must first keel a -man! Is it not droll!" -</p> - -<p> -Boatswain Joe thrust forward his head, -and so terribly threatening were his arrogant -light-blue eyes that Dumont flinched a -trifle. -</p> - -<p> -"Never you mind your laughin'—it ain't -time yet, Frenchy! You mind your course, -d'ye see? Fall off a couple o' points and -things'll be in a mess, see? You mind your -course! You and me have big lays in this -thing. If it goes through all shipshape, we'll -have money. Now, you let her head fall off -and there'll be trouble, see?" -</p> - -<p> -Dumont spread out his hands, Gallic fashion. -</p> - -<p> -"My friend," he said softly, "there is no -need for threats. Me, I know what to do. -Me, I shall do it, so! But remember one -thing, you: on the train, you shall introduce -me to the lady, so I shall console her -for the absent one. Eh?" -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed!" Ericksen made an impatient -gesture. "You're a dago and you can't help -settin' your course by a woman, I s'pose. -But you better watch out, Frenchy. This -here one is married." -</p> - -<p> -Dumont smiled. "I shall attend to -that—to-night." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IV -<br /><br /> -THE SQUARE SUITCASE -</h3> - -<p> -Tom Dennis, in the meantime, was making -some discoveries. -</p> - -<p> -In the course of the afternoon he dropped -in at his old newspaper office with the -object of seeing the boys and trying to get -some special assignments on the Pacific -Coast. In this latter endeavour he was more -successful than he had dared hope, for the -editor declared at once in favour of a series -of articles on the Canadian training-camps -in the vicinity of Vancouver, and even spoke -of syndicating them. -</p> - -<p> -Thus, when Dennis returned to the city-room, -he was in hopeful vein. Most of his -old friends were still on the staff, with some -new men; he said nothing about his marriage, -or about his failure in Marshville, but -stated that he had been called to the Pacific -Coast on unexpected business, and let it go -at that. -</p> - -<p> -Then Margate entered, and gripped his -hand with a shout. Margate was the "big -man", who covered political conventions -and topics of country-wide interest. It -appeared that Margate had himself just -returned from the Coast where he had been -doing some big things with the moving-picture -stars. Dennis retired into a corner -with him, and in the course of their chat -casually inquired: -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose you never heard of a sea-captain -out there by the name of Pontifex, -did you? It's an odd sort of moniker——" -</p> - -<p> -Margate grinned. -</p> - -<p> -"Heard of him? I should say yes! He's -the only chap I ever heard of who put it all -over the motion-picture people. Why, -they're yelling about it yet!" -</p> - -<p> -"How's that?" asked Dennis in unaffected -surprise. -</p> - -<p> -"It seems this chap Pontifex owned an old -whaling brig. She was laid up at San Pedro, -in pretty bad shape, and the Greatorex -people wanted to use her in a couple of -scenarios. So Pontifex leased her to -them—savvy? About six months ago they got -through with her—and then they discovered -something. In his lease, Pontifex had slipped -over a couple of jokers; they had to refit -the old hooker from top to bottom and make -her ready for sea. I forget how many -thousands it cost them. I remember she was sent -up to him at Vancouver, just before I came -East, and everyone was slipping the laugh -to the Greatorex folks at the way a whaling -skipper had put it over them. And believe -me, the job was done right! It takes a -genius to manage a stunt like that nowadays." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you don't know Pontifex personally?" -</p> - -<p> -"Lord, no! What are you running down, -anyhow? Is he a pirate?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis laughed. "I hope not. I've heard -some things about him, though—good -human-interest stuff for a magazine feature, if -they're true. I'll look him up at Vancouver. -What's the name of his ship?" -</p> - -<p> -"The <i>Pelican</i>. Say, if you're there any -time, look up my brother; he's doing -shipping stuff on <i>The Vancouver Mail</i>. He'll -be glad to do the honours, and you might -pick up some good dope from him." -</p> - -<p> -When he left the office, Dennis sought the -railroad office and bought tickets for himself -and Florence to Vancouver, obtaining a -compartment; the money which Ericksen -had given him, with what he had left of his -own, proved quite sufficient. Then, -encountering Margate and a couple more men -from the office, he went to dinner with them. -At seven o'clock he was on the way home to -pack. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -It had not been a highly romantic wedding-day, -he reflected, either for himself or for -Florence; but they would have a trip of -four days in which to make up for that. The -commissions for work at Vancouver were a -tremendous aid to Dennis, keeping him from -feeling that he was loafing on the job. The -money, too, would help. And he anticipated -no particular difficulty in getting work. He -was one of the well-known men in his profession, -and a place would be made for him; -he was not a newspaper "tramp". He was -not one of the shiftless or incompetent -men-of-all-trades who seek the Coast as a haven -of refuge. Already, in view of his unexpected -marriage and the all-impelling faith of -Florence, he had risen above the despondency -induced by his Marshville venture. -</p> - -<p> -He had obtained no information from -Florence which could serve to throw any -light upon Ericksen or Captain Pontifex; -she had been entirely ignorant of what -knowledge they wished to extract from her -or from her paralysed father. Captain -Hathaway's last ship, a freighter named the -<i>John Simpson</i>, had been lost while <i>en route</i> -from San Francisco to Vladivostok. She had -gone down with all hands somewhere off the -Aleuts, and with Captain Hathaway totally -paralysed since his rescue it was unlikely -that her story would ever be known. -</p> - -<p> -As Tom Dennis packed together his few -belongings, with purchases which he had -made that day, he blessed the girl who had -that morning married him, and he swore -savagely to himself that it would not be for -worse, but for better. Not easily had he -assented to her proposal; not easily had he -grasped her reasons for making it; but now -he realized the sheer truth which she had -seen from the first. There was no danger -whatever that he would be unable to provide -the necessities of life. True, heart-trouble, -of which he had never before been aware, -had barred him from wearing a uniform; -but this disease was a remote danger. His -ability lay in his head, and he had no doubt -about his ability to win a fair living wage. -The paralytic Captain Hathaway would be -in some ways a burden, but one which Tom -Dennis cheerfully assumed. -</p> - -<p> -"With faith in the future and in each -other, we would have been fools not to -marry!" he confided to his suitcase. "We'll -pull through; and we'll make a tenfold -better fight for having each other! I'm -almost glad that the old <i>Clarion</i> went -under——" -</p> - -<p> -He did not hear his door open; nor did -he hear the approach of a swift catlike form -from the doorway. He did, however, feel -the draught from the open door. He half-turned; -but he turned only to feel a crashing -blow on the head. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Dumont stood over the prostrate figure, -softly chuckling, and stowed away the -blackjack which had dealt the blow. The figure -of Dennis lay motionless, arms outflung; -his profile was visible against the rug, and -the eyes were closed. His assailant eyed -him for a moment, then stepped to the -window and drew down the blind. A single -electric bulb lighted the room. -</p> - -<p> -Dumont returned to his victim. From his -pocket he produced a handkerchief folded -and padded with cotton. From another -pocket he took a thin flat vial of chloroform -which he poured heavily over the handkerchief; -the fumes sickened the air. Then he -knelt, and put a hand half under Dennis, -feeling the heart. -</p> - -<p> -"Good!" he muttered with an air of pride. -He spoke in French, his voice low. "It was -a good job. The bump on his head will not -be observed. They will think it suicide." -</p> - -<p> -And then sudden wild surprise and -consternation convulsed his features. His left -hand, beneath Dennis, was suddenly seized -and twisted by iron fingers. Dumont, a -startled oath on his lips, was pulled forward -off his balance and fell headlong over his -victim. Both bodies heaved madly. -</p> - -<p> -Across the would-be assassin the big figure -of Tom Dennis sprawled heavily. Dumont -had been entirely taken by surprise. Dennis -seized the handkerchief and clapped it over -the face of his opponent. -</p> - -<p> -The Frenchman fought. He struggled -viciously, silently, desperately; he struck -with fists and nails and knees, biting at the -hand which held the bandage across his -mouth and nose. -</p> - -<p> -"No use, my friend," said Dennis, speaking -half-forgotten French. "You didn't hit -quite hard enough." -</p> - -<p> -The convulsive struggles of Dumont, held -helpless by sheer weight, quieted into jerky -movements. Tom Dennis knocked away the -saturated handkerchief and turned the limp -figure on its face. He shook out the -handkerchief and knotted the wet linen about the -wrists of Dumont. Then, weakly, he caught -at a chair and pulled himself erect. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis felt deathly sick. That clip over -the ear had been a shrewd one, and in the -closed room the fumes of the narcotic reeked -from the bottle which had spilled its entire -contents on the floor. Dizzy and staggering, -he groped his way to the window and flung -it open. He knelt there, his head on the -window-sill, bathing himself in the fresh air. -</p> - -<p> -"A near thing!" he muttered. "A near thing!" -</p> - -<p> -How long he lay there he did not know. -The sickness, the nausea, passed from him -by slow degrees. He gingerly felt his head, -finding that the skin was unbroken; a lump -had already risen. His senses were still -aswim when at length he rose to his feet. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The Frenchman was senseless, but was -probably in no danger. Inspecting the man, -Dennis remembered to have seen him entering -the adjoining room that same evening. But -what could have been the motive of this -amazing assault by an utter stranger, a -fellow lodger with whom he had never -exchanged a word? It did not appear to be -robbery, for Dumont was well-dressed. The -rugged features of Tom Dennis grew hard -and harsh as he gazed down, remembering -the man's words. The chloroform had not -been intended merely to knock him out; it -had been intended to kill him! Why? -</p> - -<p> -Stooping, he ran swiftly through the -contents of Dumont's pockets. He found an -automatic, the bluejack which had struck -him and a thin keen knife. He found a wad -of yellow-backed bills, which he stuck into -his own pocket with a chuckle. He found no -letters, nothing else at all—except an -envelope such as is issued at railroad ticket -offices. In this envelope were two tickets—one -the return half of a Vancouver-to-Chicago -ticket, the other a one-way ticket from -Chicago to Vancouver; and with them was -the Pullman ticket calling for a compartment. -The date was of this very day, the train that -upon which Dennis himself was leaving! In -the envelope, also, were two small brass -keys. -</p> - -<p> -Dropping into a chair, Tom Dennis frowned -over these clues. Could the man have some -connection with Ericksen—coming as he had -from Vancouver, and being about to return -there? Perhaps. Dennis suspected Ericksen, -had suspected him from the first. But there -was no obvious connection; there was no -link of direct accusation. Had Ericksen been -behind this assault? -</p> - -<p> -Manifestly this assassin had two tickets so -that he could occupy a compartment alone. -Why? For what purpose? At this thought -Dennis went to his door, passed into the hall -and went directly to the next door—that of -Dumont's room. He found the room quite -empty. Upon the bed was a small valise, -but it contained nothing except linen and -articles of travel. -</p> - -<p> -"Blamed if I can account for it!" muttered -Dennis, returning to his own room. "This -fellow meant to bury me; that's certain. I'll -keep his money as fair loot. About his two -tickets and—hm! I'd better keep them too, -and occupy that compartment occasionally. -There may be something in it which will -give me a clue. I'll do it." -</p> - -<p> -He glanced at his watch, suddenly -conscious that time had been passing. He -was aghast to find that it was eight -o'clock—and the train left at eight-thirty! -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -With a hasty ejaculation he caught up -his suitcase, crammed it shut and after a -last glance at the recumbent assassin turned -out the light and ran downstairs to the hall -telephone. He was too late to call for -Florence now; she must catch a taxi to the -station! -</p> - -<p> -His first thought was to order a taxicab -for himself; then he called up the school -where Florence had been teaching. There -ensued five minutes—a frantic five -minutes—of delay before a cool woman's voice -informed him that Miss Hathaway had -departed some time before; a gentleman had -called for her. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis demanded a description of the -man, and recognized Ericksen. -</p> - -<p> -When the taxi appeared, Dennis flung -himself into the cab and thrust a bill at the -driver with orders to make the station -regardless of traffic officers. He saw quite -clearly, now, that Ericksen had planned this -attempted murder; there was no proof of it, -but he needed none. What was the reason -behind it? This question maddened Dennis. -Was Florence being abducted? Such a thing -seemed impossible and incredible, outside -a movie scenario. -</p> - -<p> -When Dennis reached the station he had -about three minutes left. He took the gate -at a rush, showing his tickets hurriedly, and -swung aboard the nearest open vestibule of -the train just as the porters were picking up -their stools. -</p> - -<p> -He found that the compartment-car was -up ahead. Since he had his own tickets, -with that of Florence, she would certainly -not be in their compartment, but probably -in one of the Pullmans. So he started through -the train, scrutinising each seat as he came -to it. -</p> - -<p> -Two cars ahead, he came suddenly upon -Florence, who was alone. She sprang up -with a glad cry, and Dennis saw that she -had been weeping. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh—I knew you'd make it, after all, -Tom!" she broke out, her hands going to his. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis stooped and touched her lips with his. -</p> - -<p> -"All right now, old girl," he said, not -bothering for an explanation of her words. -"Where's Ericksen?" -</p> - -<p> -"He just went forward to arrange about -our tickets, he said." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis beckoned to the porter who was -approaching. He gave the darky the number -of his own compartment and ordered -Florence's grips taken there; then he turned -to his wife. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, Mrs. Dennis," he said, chuckling -as she flushed at the name, "you go to that -compartment and wait until I show up, will -you please? I have a little business with -Mr. Ericksen—and it won't wait a minute!" -</p> - -<p> -"Is anything wrong? Your note—it said -that you might make the train——" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis took from her hand a folded note -and glanced at it. Then he thrust it into -his pocket and patted her shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll be along presently, dear. No, -nothing wrong! I have some good news for -you, too—got some assignments out West. -I'll meet you in a few minutes." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Leaving his grip and a coin with the porter, -Tom Dennis rushed forward. When he gained -the compartment-car, he consulted Dumont's -tickets and found that the latter had engaged -Compartment Six. Dennis went directly to -this compartment and knocked. The voice -of Ericksen bade him enter. He threw open -the door and stepped inside the little room. -</p> - -<p> -"Well!" Dennis closed the door behind -him and stood, smiling. "Expecting your -friend, are you? He's not coming, Boatswain Joe." -</p> - -<p> -There was no doubt about it; Ericksen -was hard hit. He stared at Dennis, his -mouth agape, his light-blue eyes wide-set. -</p> - -<p> -"Strike me blind," he affirmed, huskily, -"if it ain't you!" -</p> - -<p> -"You win. What are you doing in this -compartment?" -</p> - -<p> -"Who—me? Why, matey, I was lookin' -for the skipper of this here train, and I pops -in here for a bit of a smoke, out of the way -and quiet! And where might you have come -from, matey? I thought you weren't coming -along, this cruise." -</p> - -<p> -"What made you think that?" demanded Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, strike me blind!" stated Ericksen -with energy. "Didn't that there swab give -me your note sayin' you wouldn't show up?" -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis was staggered by this defence. -</p> - -<p> -"What note are you talking about? The -one you gave Mrs. Dennis?" -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, that and t'other one! Give 'em to -me, he did, and said you wouldn't show up. -The note said the same thing, and asked me -to call for Mrs. Dennis, see? Well, I done -it—and this here is the thanks I get!" -</p> - -<p> -"What kind of a man gave you the notes?" -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen was sweating profusely. At this -question he screwed up his eyes and bit on -his pipe-stem in thought. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," he answered at length, "a sort o' -rakish craft, he was, with little what-d'ye-call-'ems -of moustaches, and looked like a -dago." -</p> - -<p> -That answered to the description of the -assassin, and Dennis hesitated under the -impact of a sudden thought. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -What if that Frenchman had not been an -accomplice of Ericksen at all—but an enemy, -with some ulterior purpose at work behind -his actions? There was as much in favour of -this theory as of the other. -</p> - -<p> -"See here, Ericksen!" Dennis met the -light-blue gaze with a frowning level -scrutiny. "If your story's true, that same -man who gave you the fake message—for it -was a fake—tried to murder me about an -hour ago. He had a ticket to this compartment, -and a return-trip ticket from here to -Vancouver in his pocket. Do you know him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Know him? Not me!" asserted Boatswain -Joe virtuously. "Did you give him to -the police?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis laughed grimly. "Worse than -that. Well, do you know of anyone who -might have followed you from Vancouver -here? Have you any enemies?" -</p> - -<p> -From Ericksen broke a sudden exclamation. -"Strike me blind! If you ain't hit it right -on the head, you have! Somebody has -smoked out the Skipper's game; that's what!" -</p> - -<p> -"And what's the game?" snapped Dennis. -At this the sailor wagged his head. -</p> - -<p> -"Can't tell that. 'Mind your jaw-tackle, -Boatswain,' says the Skipper. It's got to -do with Miss Hathaway—I mean Mrs. Dennis—and -her father. It ain't for me to say. -But there's money in it, and somebody's -smoked it out—strike me blind if they -ain't!" -</p> - -<p> -"Then why should that fellow have tackled -me, instead of you?" -</p> - -<p> -Again Ericksen wagged his head. "Can't -tell you that! Didn't you make the blighter -talk?" -</p> - -<p> -"He was in no condition to talk when I -got through with him," returned Dennis, and -the sailor sighed—perhaps with relief. -</p> - -<p> -Glancing about, Dennis saw only one -article of luggage in the compartment—a -small square suitcase, obviously new, and -very well made. It lacked any mark of -identification. Beyond doubt it belonged to -the assassin. -</p> - -<p> -"That was here when you dropped in for -a smoke?" demanded Dennis, pointing at it. -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen surveyed the square suitcase -with surprise. "Must ha' been!" -</p> - -<p> -From his pocket Tom Dennis produced the -two small keys which the assassin had carried. -He fitted one of them to the lock of the -square suitcase; it worked. Meantime, -Ericksen was watching him with ill-concealed -anxiety. -</p> - -<p> -Throwing back the lid of the square suitcase -Dennis saw that it contained nothing -except a small phonograph and half a dozen -very large records. The labels on the records -proclaimed them to be grand-opera selections. -Frowning thoughtfully, Dennis closed -and locked the suitcase. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll take this along. You might as well -keep this compartment, Ericksen—I took -that scoundrel's tickets; here they are. -You'll find this place more comfortable than -a berth. And you needn't mention to -Mrs. Dennis what's happened. It might only -worry her. I fancy we've given your friends -the slip entirely, eh? Sorry I suspected you -at first." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, don't mention it," said Ericksen, -wriggling a little. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER V -<br /><br /> -THE "PELICAN" -</h3> - -<p> -The brigantine-rigged <i>Pelican</i> was of but -a hundred and fifty tons burden; yet her -royal yard stood athwart the sky nearly -ninety feet above the deck. She was not a -pretty ship, despite her snowy cleanliness, -but she was tall enough; in her 'midships -stood the brick try-works, with two funnels, -where blubber was rendered into oil; and -she reeked of the whale-juice that had soaked -her stout oaken timbers these forty years. -</p> - -<p> -As she lay at anchor in Vancouver harbour, -well up toward the second narrows, there -were several peculiar features about -her—peculiar, that is, to the trained seaman's eye. -</p> - -<p> -She was bound for sea; yet she was -altogether too late to get the spring catch off -the Siberian coast; and if she went up into -the Arctic to fill her hogsheads, she would -certainly be ice-bound that winter, and -few whalers were taking chances on being -ice-bound those days! Then her crew had -been all aboard for two days, and the majority -of them were Kanakas—both facts being -unusual. Why the <i>Pelican</i> was still hanging -about the harbour no one could say. -</p> - -<p> -This old whaler had none too good a -reputation, even among her kind; but this -was chiefly because of her officers. Manuel -Mendez, the black Cape Verde mate, was a -strapping big man with a thin eagle-like -profile exactly like that of the mummy of -Rameses—a great hooked nose, and air of -gentle refinement, and delicate lips. Manuel -Mendez played the flute beautifully and was -said to be a killer of men. -</p> - -<p> -The second officer was an old man, forty -years a whaler. Mr. Leman wore a fringe of -white hair and whisker, stood six feet two -and was muscled like a bull moose; they -said he had been known to take a man's arm -in his two hands and break it like a rotten -stick. His face was heavy and flat, the eyes -small and bright and deeply set. His nose -had been crushed and had a crooked twist -</p> - -<p> -One of the boat-steerers, Ericksen, was -gone from the ship. The other, like the mate, -was a Cape Verde man; his name was a -Portuguese one, but he was called Corny. -The brigantine had no cooper, for a wonder; -her cook, like Ericksen, was absent. -</p> - -<p> -The steward was a vicious little Cockney -pickpocket who wanted to get out of Canada -before the draught caught him; the cabin-boy -was a green farmer-lad named Jerry, a -moon-faced boy who had run off the farm a -month previously. There was no one else -aft. -</p> - -<p> -In the forecastle were fifteen men. Ten of -these were Kanakas—merry brown men who -spoke their own guttural tongue and some -broken English, and like all of their kind -were noble seamen. The other five were -broken-down white men, scum of the city, -who were kept drunk and under hatches until -the <i>Pelican</i> should get to sea. -</p> - -<p> -The ship was pervaded by a restless air—that -is, in the after cabins. Up forward the -Kanakas sang and worked light-heartedly, -and the five bums snored in drunken repose. -But aft all was different. Restrained -excitement, an air of suspense, much whispering -and wild speculating; thus the atmosphere -seemed electrically charged. -</p> - -<p> -Everyone knew that there was an invalid -down below—a man in a wheeled chair, a -man who could not speak a single word or -move a finger. Jerry affirmed he could eat, -and could use his ears, but little more, as -his eyes also were somewhat affected. Then, -the skipper's wife was aboard for the cruise; -and when she came to the deck, men smartened -up—not because they loved her, but -because they feared and hated her. She was -known to all aboard as the Missus—that was -her title. -</p> - -<p> -It was five in the afternoon. Two bells had -just been struck on the brass ship's bell -abaft the mizzenmast when the Missus -appeared on the quarter-deck. Sea-watches -had been set, and Mr. Leman had the deck, -Mrs. Pontifex was a strapping big woman -with iron-grey hair and a jaw like rock; her -unchanging expression was indomitable and -not too sweet. -</p> - -<p> -"No sign of that boat, Mr. Leman?" she -demanded in a raucous voice which held a -distinct Yankee twang. -</p> - -<p> -"No, ma'am," meekly responded the -second officer. "Train must ha' been late. -Them trains often is, I'm told." -</p> - -<p> -The Missus espied a Kanaka sprawled in -the waist; half-leaning against the try-works, -he was asleep in the westerning sun. -She strode to him and aroused him with a -sturdy kick in the ribs. -</p> - -<p> -"Do your sleepin' daown below, ye -scouse!" she roared. "This is no berth-deck. -Yeou, Corny! Who went in Mr. Mendez' -boat when he took the Cap'n ashore?" -</p> - -<p> -"Six of the Kanakas, ma'am," responded -the black boat-steerer. -</p> - -<p> -"Hm! Then they'll not run off. All -ready for sea, Mr. Leman?" -</p> - -<p> -"All ready, ma'am." -</p> - -<p> -"The minute yeou sight that boat, break -aout the signal for the tug. When the boat -comes alongside, yeou tell the cap'n that -we've been ordered to shift anchorage. That'll -keep the girl and her fool husband quiet, I -reckon!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, ma'am. And then?" -</p> - -<p> -"Cast off the tug aoutside the Lion's Gate -an' lay a course for Unalaska." -</p> - -<p> -"But, ma'am—how about Frenchy? We -ain't got no cook 'cept him!" Mr. Leman -rubbed his fringe of whiskers in evident -perturbation over putting to sea without a -cook. "You know, ma'am, Boatswain Joe -wired about him gettin' left behind." -</p> - -<p> -"Never mind 'baout Dumont." Mrs. Pontifex's -lips set in a grim line. "He's got -his orders, and I wired money to him. He'll -go to Unalaska by steamer and wait there -until we put in." -</p> - -<p> -"And who'll do the cookin' meantime?" -</p> - -<p> -"I will. Naow yeou get hove up on that -hawser, so's yeou can jerk up the hook in a -hurry." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Leman hastened forward, bawling -orders as he went. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Now, if there was one thing in particular -for which Tom Dennis was not in the least -prepared, it was for the reception which -awaited him at Vancouver. He had anticipated -a seaman's cottage in the suburbs, a -protracted stay at an hotel or -boarding-house, and so forth. -</p> - -<p> -Instead of this, upon alighting from the -train he found himself and Florence shaking -hands with Captain Pontifex to whom -Ericksen introduced them with much -delight. The "Skipper" was not, to the -suspicious eye of Dennis, prepossessing in -appearance. His curled black moustache, his -swarthy cavernous features, his alert dark -eyes, were all well enough; but the -moustache concealed a cruel and bitter mouth; -the features were high-boned and sharp; -and the eyes were of the heavy-lidded type—the -eyes of a master of men, the eyes of a -Hindenburg. -</p> - -<p> -First impressions were almost effaced, -however, by the polished cordiality of -Pontifex. He was a man of education, of intense -personality, and he was at some pains to -make himself agreeable. Florence's first -question was for her father. -</p> - -<p> -"We have taken him aboard the <i>Pelican</i>, -Mrs. Dennis; he seemed to miss the salt -air, and the lease on our cottage was up," -responded Pontifex. "This way, please—I -have a taxicab waiting! I have a cabin all -ready for you aboard ship, and Mrs. Pontifex -promised to have a bang-up dinner at six -sharp; so we've just time to make the ship. -If you'll let me have your trunk-checks, -Mr. Dennis——" -</p> - -<p> -"But Captain, we can't impose upon your -hospitality!" interrupted Tom Dennis. "It's -mighty good of you, but——" -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense, my dear chap!" Pontifex -laughed and seized his arm, impelling him, -toward the cab. "It's a great pleasure, I -assure you! Of course you young married -folks will be glad of solitude after you get -settled down with the old cap'n, but—I -suppose Ericksen told you the business we -had in hand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ericksen told us nothing," returned -Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"Good for the Boatswain!" Pontifex -laughed again. "I warned him to keep a -close tongue. Well, suppose we pass up -business for to-night, and in the morning -we'll get together, eh? The directors of the -company will be all aboard then; you'll be -our guests for a time." -</p> - -<p> -"What company?" interjected Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, that's the secret!" Pontifex bowed -her into the cab, his white teeth showing in -a smile. "A surprise for you, madam! It -was odd, the way I happened to pick up -your father—poor man, stuck away in a -sailor's home, unable to tell so much as his -name! You know, we were always pretty -good friends, Miles and I." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis found his suspicions fading, -and his first dislike of Pontifex was lulled -to rest by the man's vivid personality. -Pontifex had character, plenty of it, and like -all strong men could make himself greatly -liked or greatly hated almost at will. He -appeared to be a good-humoured, masterly -sort of man, heartily loving a joke, and -radiating an air of alert and genial manliness. -Dennis adjudged him a good friend but a bad -enemy. -</p> - -<p> -"We hope that the shock of seeing you, -Mrs. Dennis, will restore your father's power -of speech," went on Pontifex. "For that -reason we've not told him——" -</p> - -<p> -"But how can he be so paralysed?" -demanded Florence quickly. "Can he hear, -and not speak? Why——" -</p> - -<p> -"My dear young lady, the best doctors in -Vancouver can't account for it!" Pontifex -shook his head with an air of paternal solicitude. -"It's one of the freak cases of paralysis; -but it's not at all an unusual case. He can -move his eyelids slightly, his eyes perfectly; he -can eat and drink fairly well; yet his vocal -cords are entirely paralysed." -</p> - -<p> -Without opportunity for further converse -they reached the water-front, and Captain -Pontifex led the way toward the landing-stage. -Tom Dennis had his own grip, a huge -affair as large as a small trunk, and two bags -belonging to Florence; of these latter the -skipper had assumed charge. -</p> - -<p> -Upon reaching the boat with its six merry -Kanaka rowers, Manuel Mendez was introduced -by Pontifex. Mendez made up for his -broken English by a wide grin, and assisted -Florence down into the stern-sheets of the -boat, beside the Skipper, who took charge of -the long steering-oar. Dennis climbed into -the bow with Mendez. -</p> - -<p> -After a short wait Ericksen appeared, a -truckman helping him bear the one trunk -which Florence had brought; this was stowed -in the boat. Ericksen shook hands with -Mendez, flinging a laughing greeting to the -men; the Skipper, standing, flung an -impatient word at Ericksen, and the latter -turned to Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"I didn't see nothin' of that square -suitcase, Mr. Dennis—the one you took out o' -that other compartment." -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis laughed unconcernedly. "Oh, -that! There was nothing in it I wanted, -Boatswain Joe; I gave it to the porter the -first night out." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen dropped his pipe to the wharf -and stooped for it, with a rumbling of low -words which did not sound like blessings. -Captain Pontifex changed countenance, then -snapped a command at the boat steerer. His -voice was suddenly metallic, piercing. -</p> - -<p> -"Hurry up, there, Boatswain! We've no -time to dally around." -</p> - -<p> -Boatswain Joe, looking very much like a -dog who is about to receive a sound thrashing, -jumped down into the boat. The bowman -shoved off. The oars flashed. The -whaleboat swung out into the estuary. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis entertained an uneasy feeling -that he had been bodily abducted—and -laughed at himself for a simpleton. Mendez -pointed out the <i>Pelican</i> as they approached -her, and from the other direction a tug was -crawling up to the brigantine. As the boat -drew under the brown side of the ship, a flat -white-whiskered face appeared above the -ladder; Mendez informed Dennis that this -was the second mate, Mr. Leman. -</p> - -<p> -"Ahoy, Cap'n!" called Leman in unexpectedly -stentorian tones. "We've been -ordered to shift our anchorage, sir—port -authorities. Tug comin' now!" -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, Mr. Leman," returned Pontifex -briskly. "Pass a line from the forward -bitts and stand ready to heave up the hook. -Mr. Mendez, will you attend to this luggage? -All ready, Miss—pardon, Mrs. Dennis! May -I assist you up the ladder?" -</p> - -<p> -If Florence entertained any shrinking from -that steep approach, she concealed it well, -and with the aid of Pontifex was soon on the -deck above being introduced to the Missus. -Tom Dennis followed. The Missus gave him -a mighty hand-grip, then turned to Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"Supper's all ready," announced -Mrs. Pontifex. "I suppose, poor dear, yeou'd -sooner see your poor father first? Then come -with me—do. Cap'n, yeou make that man -Ericksen wash his face and hands before he -sits daown to table! And put a clean shirt -on him." -</p> - -<p> -Boatswain Joe was just then coming up -the side, and heard the words. -</p> - -<p> -"You hear?" snapped Pontifex. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes sir," he responded meekly, and his -freckled face looked rather white. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Pontifex departed with Florence, -and Tom Dennis joined them at a glance -from the latter. All three passed down the -after companion. -</p> - -<p> -In a wheeled chair set beside the stern -windows of the cabin sat Miles Hathaway. -He was not as Tom Dennis had seen him -pictured, for his rocky and indomitable -face was half-concealed by a growth of shaggy -grey beard. His hair, too, had grown long -and was streaked with grey. He sat motionless, -hands in lap. His eyes, wide glowing -brown eyes like those of Florence, were -fastened upon the three who entered. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The meeting was pitiful almost to tragedy. -With a wordless cry Florence ran to her -father and knelt beside him, clasping him -in her arms, her head against his broad and -massive chest. The man sat there unstirring, -helpless. His eyes seemed to lack the swift -play of cheek-muscles and lids which gives -expression; yet, as those eyes dwelt upon -the upturned face of Florence, they seemed -to dilate with incredulous horror. -</p> - -<p> -"We've brought your daughter, Cap'n -Hathaway," announced Mrs. Pontifex -stridently, "and her husband, Mr. Dennis." -</p> - -<p> -The eyes of the helpless man turned -to Dennis and rested upon his gaze. The -mouth of Miles Hathaway opened; he tried -terribly and frightfully to stir himself, to -break the invisible bonds which held him -tied down—and he failed. He could not -speak or move. Yet his eyes, fastened upon -the face of Dennis, seemed filled with some -awful and momentous message. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm so glad we've found you, Father -dear!" said Florence softly, tears on her -cheeks. "Tom and I are going to take care -of you always, and if only Mother were -here—she never knew that you were alive." -</p> - -<p> -Again the mouth of Miles Hathaway opened -spasmodically, but he could not speak -His eyes were horrible to see, so dumbly -eloquent were they of the useless will of -the man. Tom Dennis could not bear the -scene further, and touched the arm of -Mrs. Pontifex. -</p> - -<p> -"Leave them—for a little while." -</p> - -<p> -The woman nodded. They left father and -daughter together. The Missus led the way -to the mess-cabin, where they found Pontifex -opening a bottle of wine. Up above, feet -were trampling the deck, and the brig was -heeling a trifle. -</p> - -<p> -"A real dinner!" exclaimed Pontifex -heartily. "A real wedding dinner, eh? -Mr. Leman has the deck, my dear, and he's -called all hands; so for once we'll have a -quiet family meal, eh? Where's Mrs. Dennis? -Oh, with her father, of course. A sad meeting -for her!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. But for you, Captain Pontifex, -there would have been none at all," said -Dennis warmly. "We owe you a good -deal——" -</p> - -<p> -"There, there, don't mention it!" Pontifex -gave his curled mustache a twirl, and his -white teeth flashed out in a smile. "We'll -have our pay, never fear, the Missus and I. -Talk it over in the morning, eh? I suppose -you're pretty familiar with your Dumas, -Mr. Dennis? Well, well—a bother having -to change our anchorage this way, but the port -authorities know their business these -war-times, of course. Well, sit down." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The dinner was excellent—although, owing -to the motion of the ship, the dishes joggled -more than a little. Captain Pontifex made -light of it, explaining that they might not -reach their new anchorage until midnight. -</p> - -<p> -With the coffee was served a liqueur, -the most peculiar and biting Tom Dennis -had ever tasted. The skipper stated that it -was a queer distillation made from flour and -molasses by a Siberian Eskimo—quite a -rarity. Perhaps it was this liqueur which -made Tom Dennis most unaccountably sleepy; -indeed, he could hardly stumble off to the -mate's cabin which had been assigned him -and Florence. And as he retired, he could -faintly hear the roaring bellow of Boatswain -Joe, somewhere on deck: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "She was waiting for a fair wind to get under way,<br /> - A <i>long</i> time ago!"<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The last vague thought of Tom Dennis -was a mental query as to why Captain -Pontifex had asked him if he were familiar -with Dumas. He was to remember it later, -also. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VI -<br /><br /> -OUTWARD BOUND -</h3> - -<p> -Upon the morning after the <i>Pelican</i> stood -out of the Lion's Gate and headed southward, -she was outside Cape Flattery and standing -off to the northwest, bucking and pitching -and leaning over under a stiff blow from the -westward. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Pontifex, although on this cruise -he carried no third mate, adhered to the -custom of whaling skippers and stood no -watches himself except at times of necessity. -On this fine morning, however, he was on -the quarter-deck, talking with black Manuel -Mendez. The steward approached them -gingerly, for he was rather seasick. -</p> - -<p> -"Well?" snapped the skipper. "How -are they? Do they know we're at sea?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir, they seem to, sir," returned -the Cockney. "Mr. Dennis is wery sick, sir. -The lady, sir, is not." -</p> - -<p> -"Taking care of him, is she?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, steward, you give them my compliments, -and say that I expect them to appear -in the saloon cabin at four bells sharp." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"And, steward! You might ask the -Missus for a bit of raw blubber. Eat it raw, -steward, and it'll cure what's ailing you. -fat whale blubber——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir," said the steward faintly, his -cheeks turning green. He fled in haste. -</p> - -<p> -Black Mendez grinned delightedly. -"Dey'll be no good for fight, Cap'n." -</p> - -<p> -The skipper merely laughed in his throat, -and strode to the companion way. He had -changed overnight. No longer was he under -the shadow of the land, under the hand of -port and civil and military authorities! No -longer was he among the meshes of mankind's -net! Here he was the master. Here he was -authority ultimate and supreme. Here, on -the high seas, his word, and his alone, was -law. He only dictated; all others obeyed! -He was the skipper. He was absolute. -</p> - -<p> -Something of all this showed in his eyes -as he went below. At the foot of the ladder -he met the Missus, rock-like and indomitable. -She looked into his eyes and shrank slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"At four bells," said Captain Pontifex -curtly. "In the cabin—with him." -</p> - -<p> -She nodded and looked after him as he -swung away aft. She was afraid of him, -but she was proud of him—was she not his -woman? She, of whom all others aboard -the <i>Pelican</i> were in dread, stood in fear of -the skipper. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Captain Pontifex passed into the saloon -at the stern, where the helpless Miles -Hathaway sat in his chair beside the -screwed-down cot that served him as a bunk. Despite -the hardness and the harshness and the -terror of the Missus' life, she was after all -a woman; the cabin ports were curtained -with flowered chintz, the big gun-rack and -the little bookcase were also curtained; in -the corner near the stern ports was a heavy -tea-jar lashed to the deck, in which blossomed -a huge scarlet geranium plant. This geranium -was the pride and joy of the Missus, and -the envy and admiration of all visiting -whaling skippers. -</p> - -<p> -The skipper pulled up a chair in front of -Miles Hathaway, stuffed tobacco into his -pipe, struck a match and, through the -ensuing cloud of smoke, fastened his keen -dark eyes upon the staring gaze of the -paralytic. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," he observed, "I've got 'em, -haven't I? Bit of a surprise, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -It seemed as though some fearful inner -convulsion swept over the helpless man. -His mouth opened slightly; his eyelids -jerked. But he could not speak. -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex laughed. "Told you I'd make -you talk, didn't I? We're off to sea at last, -Cap'n, and I've got her aboard. Also, her -husband—she'll be a widow early, won't -she? That is, if you're still stubborn. Well, -I told you that I expected to go Dumas -<i>père</i> one better, by the aid of modern science; -but, my dear Miles, we must continue to -stick to the old novelist a little while. So -you'll kindly answer in the usual way when -I ask questions." -</p> - -<p> -For a moment Pontifex puffed at his pipe. -Then he took from the table another pipe, -filled it with tobacco, lighted it, and placed -it between the teeth of Hathaway. -</p> - -<p> -"Now we'll have a friendly little chat -over our 'baccy, eh? Real old sailormen, -eh?" He chuckled with horrible mockery. -"At four bells, Cap'n, they'll come in here -and we'll hold a meeting of the directorate. -The Hathaway Salvage Company—how's -that, eh? Sorry you're out of it. Do you -remember that time in Vladivostok, when -you met me on the street and cursed me -back and forth for marooning those deserters -on an ice-floe? Well, I told you then that -I'd get even, Miles. And now—<i>she</i> is at -sea with me! Good joke, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -The subtle horror-gleam in the eyes of -Miles Hathaway was intensified. His massive -face purpled, then paled again under its -stubble of whitish beard. -</p> - -<p> -"Bo'sun Joe slipped up in letting her get -married," pursued Pontifex. "But we'll -need her signature and that of her -husband—or we'll so tell them. Savvy, Miles? -We'll tell 'em that; we'll make it convincing, -too. We'll make 'em quite certain that -what we want is their signatures and their -help. But you know better, Miles! -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, you know better. You know that -I had to get the girl in order to make you -talk, blast you! That's why I spent money -getting her. That's why I got her. As for -Dennis, we'll get rid of him later. He doesn't -count." -</p> - -<p> -Again Pontifex resumed his pipe, puffing -it alight. He spoke smilingly, now—an -ugly smile that curved his lips. He leaned -forward with a swift intent question. -</p> - -<p> -"If it's hard to use your eyelids, Miles, -answer with the pipe. Are you going to -tell me where the <i>John Simpson</i> lays?" -</p> - -<p> -Captain Hathaway sent a single spiral of -smoke up-curling from his pipe. -</p> - -<p> -"No?" Pontifex ceased to smile. "We've -tried torturing you, Miles, and you're as -stubborn a devil as I ever met. Do you -want us to bring the girl in here and torture -<i>her</i>—under your eyes? Hm! You remember -Frenchy, who put the irons to your feet? -Well—Frenchy has spoken for her. And -Frenchy comes aboard at Unalaska. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, Miles, if you give me the bearings -of the <i>Simpson</i>, I'll put you and her and -her man ashore at Unalaska, all shipshape. -I give you my solemn word on it, and you -know my word means something; whatever -else I do, I don't break my word! By the -time we reach Unalaska you'll understand -pretty well how we're going to work on -things. The day we hit Unimak Pass I'll -ask you once more—and only once. If you -refuse, I'll set to work on the girl—or -Frenchy will. You think it over, Miles. -You think it over hard, blast you! Now -that she's here, I'm going to <i>make</i> you -talk!" -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex knocked out his pipe and that -of Hathaway. Then he went on deck. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -In the meantime his good wife was -visiting the Dennis cabin. Florence, for -all her slim frailness, was untouched by -<i>mal-de-mer</i>, and greeted the Missus smilingly. -Tom Dennis, sitting on the lower bunk, -managed a weak grin. He was rapidly -growing better. -</p> - -<p> -"The steward brought yeou breakfast?" -said the Missus, "Is Mr. Dennis feeling -better?" -</p> - -<p> -"Quite, I think," responded Florence. -"Surely we're not at sea?" -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Pontifex nodded. "Oh, yes, we're -well aoutside Flattery." -</p> - -<p> -"And what are we doing there?" demanded -Tom Dennis in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -"Making abaout nine knots," coolly -returned the Missus, transfixing him with -her deep cold eyes. "Never mind discussing -it naow. If yeou folks will show -up in the cabin at four bells, we'll talk it -aout!" -</p> - -<p> -"But what does it mean?" Florence, a -little pale, laid her hand upon the woman's -arm. Her eyes searched the rocklike features -with anxious pleading. "Won't you please -tell me? There's nothing wrong?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing wrong at all, dearie." Mrs. Pontifex -patted the girl's hand and smiled -a flinty smile. "It means money in all our -pockets, that's what it means—aye, in -yours, too! So don't think too hard of us -for running off to sea with yeou young folks -until ye know all abaout it. -</p> - -<p> -"And naow, dearie, I have to do the -cooking, because that blasted cook of ours -went ashore and didn't show up again. -Taking care of your poor father has 'baout -worn me daown, and I know yeou'll be -willing to look after him a bit——" -</p> - -<p> -"Of course! I meant to speak to you -about it before this!" exclaimed Florence. -"If you'll show me——" -</p> - -<p> -"Come right along with me. He ain't -much trouble, poor man, and it's the least -we can do to make him comfortable. If -there's anything yeou want done, too, just -call steward and tell him." -</p> - -<p> -"We'll be back soon, Tom dear," said -Florence, and departed with Mrs. Pontifex. -</p> - -<p> -When the door closed, Tom Dennis sat -motionless for a moment, then raised his -head. He slipped to the deck and stood -upright, holding to the bunk. A slow smile -crept into his chalky features, and presently -he stretched himself luxuriantly. -</p> - -<p> -"Passing off! I'm bad, but not near so -bad as I might be," he commented audibly. -"It's a good thing for me that I was raised -on the Maine coast, and know ships and -the sea as well as anybody! They don't -know it, however, and Florence won't tell. -Now, why the deuce have they kidnapped us -this way?" -</p> - -<p> -Frowning he sipped some cold coffee from -a pot left by the steward an hour earlier, -Then he went to his huge trunk of a grip, -its telescopic sides fat almost to bursting, -which lay at the head of the bunk. -</p> - -<p> -He unlocked the big grip and opened -it. Then he discarded his shirt and collar, -the same which he had worn the preceding -day, and slipped into a grey flannel shirt -which he took from the suitcase. His tie -knotted about the collar, he returned to -the grip and knelt above it. Drawing forth -some clothes, he threw them carelessly on -the floor—threw out more, until a pile of -rumpled garments lay beside him. Then -he produced a large flat package and two -small ones. He opened these, disclosing -six large phonograph records, a reproducer, -and a box of needles. Then, from within -the suitcase he lifted out a small hornless -phonograph itself. He stared down at it -and chuckled. -</p> - -<p> -"I told Ericksen the truth when I said -I'd given that square suitcase to the porter," -he reflected, as he fitted the reproducer to -the machine. "But I didn't mention that -I'd kept the things in the suitcase." -</p> - -<p> -Just why he had done this, Tom Dennis -was by no means certain, except that his -suspicions of Ericksen had never quite -downed. It was very curious that the sole -baggage of the assassin had consisted of -this phonograph outfit. Bo'sun Joe's interest -in the matter was also curious; his presence -in the compartment belonging to the assassin -had never ceased to trouble Tom Dennis. -More than he cared to admit, Dennis -suspected that there was, or had been, some -definite relation, and by no means an -unfriendly one, between Ericksen and the -would-be murderer. -</p> - -<p> -And why had that man possessed nothing -except this phonograph and six grand-opera -records? Dennis wanted to try out those -records. He strongly hoped that the labels -might be a blind—that the records might -have some information to convey. Did those -records hold the secret, then? -</p> - -<p> -Dennis wound up the machine, inserted a -needle in the slot, and set one of the records -upon the turntable. To his complete and -utter stupefaction he found that upon the -record was not a word; merely a deep bass -voice repeating the alphabet over and over -in a slow and distinct sequence! After each -letter "zed", followed the numerals from -one to naught. -</p> - -<p> -One after another, Dennis tried each of -the six records, patiently listening to that -maddening repetition of that alphabet. There -was positively nothing else on them! -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -At length he glanced at his watch, found -that it was nearly ten o'clock, or four bells. -With no little disdain and disappointment, -he bundled the phonograph and records back -into the depths of his suitcase, and was -just locking the grip when Florence entered -the cabin. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you ready, dear?" she demanded -eagerly, a spot of colour in her pale cheeks. -"They're all waiting for us there in the -cabin—and, Tom! It's a company! The Hathaway -Salvage Company!" -</p> - -<p> -"And what does that mean?" asked Dennis -smiling as he kissed her. -</p> - -<p> -"They're going to tell us. Are you better, -dear?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I'm all right—able to walk, anyhow. -Forward, and solve the mystery!" -</p> - -<p> -Together they left their cabin and went aft. -</p> - -<p> -In company with Miles Hathaway and -the tall scarlet geranium in the green-striped -jar, they found five people sitting around -the table. At the head was Captain Pontifex, -at the foot the Missus. On one side sat -Mr. Leman, pawing his fringe of whiskers. -At the other sat Ericksen, a satanic twist -to his freckled mouth as he eyed Captain -Hathaway, and at his side the black -boat-steerer, Corny. -</p> - -<p> -For a wonder, Pontifex rose as Florence -entered the room, the others following his -example. The skipper indicated two chairs -placed beside Leman. -</p> - -<p> -"Will you sit down, please? I have the -pleasure of introducing our officers, except -Mr. Mendez, who has the deck. Mr. Leman, -our second mate; you know Ericksen, I -think, and Corny. This chair, Mrs. Dennis—thank -you. I might add that we are the -officers and directors of the Hathaway Salvage -Company of which I am president, Mrs. Pontifex, -treasurer; Mr. Leman, secretary—the -other gentlemen directors." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis, feeling rather helpless and -bewildered, sank into the chair beside Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"For our own protection"—the skipper -twirled his moustache—"we have been forced -to maintain silence until we were at sea. -Were it known that Captain Miles Hathaway -were alive, a fortune would be lost to -us all; this one fact will explain many -questions which may have perplexed you, -Mr. Dennis." -</p> - -<p> -"A few things need explanation, all right," -said Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"Conceded!" The skipper smiled. "I may -add that we are not bound for the whaling -grounds, and we are not upon a whaling -cruise, as everyone has imagined. For that -reason we have shipped Kanakas for'ard; -they are faithful good seamen, and ask no -questions. Neither they nor the other -fo'c'sle hands, of course, are in this -company of ours." -</p> - -<p> -"And what is the purpose of the company, -then?" asked Florence quickly. -</p> - -<p> -"It may be very briefly stated in one -word: salvage! Your father's ship, the -<i>John Simpson</i>, was lost at sea with all -hands. But the natives who brought your -poor father into Unalaska told a story -of having found him upon the shore of an -island, doubtless one of the Aleuts; and -under the lee of that island they had seen -a wreck in water so shallow that her masts -stuck out above the surface. That wreck -was the <i>Simpson</i>. -</p> - -<p> -"You may know that the majority of -those islands are deserted, waterless, good -for nothing. Not even a Jap sealing poacher -would observe the masts of a wreck, unless -by chance he came to the spot. We may -take it for granted that the <i>Simpson</i> has -never been found. Unfortunately, the natives -who brought in Captain Hathaway gave -no exact location and disappeared almost -at once." -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis leaned forward. "But why -salvage a ship that's been wrecked? She's -of no earthly good! And her cargo will -belong to the owners." -</p> - -<p> -"Not so. She has been taken off the -register!" Captain Pontifex showed his -white teeth in a smile of perfect confidence. -"The point is this, Mr. Dennis: the ship -was lost while <i>en route</i> to Vladivostok, -laden with supplies for Russia. Those -supplies consisted of machine-guns almost -entirely; of machine-guns and ammunition. -</p> - -<p> -"Water will not have harmed that cargo, -Mr. Dennis—or if so, only slightly. I have -taken pains to ascertain that the guns were -so wrapped as to be waterproof. The value -runs up close to a million and a half of -dollars. The inference is plain, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis sat back, stunned. The -inference was plain indeed—a million and -a half to be had for the picking up! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VII -<br /><br /> -JERRY TELLS SOMETHING -</h3> - -<p> -As in a daze, Tom Dennis listened while -Pontifex went on to explain that Miles -Hathaway alone knew where the <i>Simpson</i> -lay; that thus far they had been unable -to find a way to extract that knowledge -from Hathaway—just here the skipper's -voice was very silky—and that they counted -upon Florence to hit upon some method of -communication. -</p> - -<p> -But, the skipper hastened on, this was -not the real reason for Florence's having -been fetched in person. She was the legal -heir of Hathaway, and also his guardian, -under the present conditions. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course," said Pontifex blandly, "we -might have gone ahead and you would never -have known about it; but we don't do business -that way, Mrs. Dennis. We want to be -aboveboard and honourable in the matter. -We dared not thresh the thing out there in -the harbour, for you've no idea how curious -shipping people are! A breath of suspicion -as to our real business, and we'd have been -lost. So we simply ran away with you—not -a bad joke, eh? Ran away with you to make -your fortune! -</p> - -<p> -"Well, to business. Our proposition is -that you sign articles with us—Mr. Dennis -also, since he is your husband and we want -everything shipshape—and we'll land you at -Unalaska, there to wait until we've turned -the trick. Of course, you realize that we're -giving our time, the wages of the men, the -ship, and all the rest, to the venture. We've -talked over what's fair, and we think that -the right thing to do is to offer you twenty -per centum of the gross proceeds of the salvage. -Is that agreeable?" -</p> - -<p> -Florence, her wide brown eyes fastened -upon Tom Dennis, seemed to await his decision -in breathless eagerness. He nodded, without -speaking. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Pontifex produced a paper which -must have been long prepared, for it was -typed, and handed it to Dennis. The latter -glanced it over. The writing was no more -than an agreement to the terms as Pontifex -had outlined them: Dennis passed the paper -to Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"Pontifex," he said slowly, "you're white -in this thing! I tell you we appreciate it. -Yes, I can understand a good many things -now that weren't clear to me before. Your -offer is generous. It's eminently square. -We're not rich, and if this thing goes through -it'll mean a great deal to us—and to the -future comfort of Captain Hathaway." -</p> - -<p> -Florence hastily signing the paper with -the fountain pen which the skipper had -handed her, shoved pen and paper at Dennis, -then leaped to her feet. An excited smile upon -her lips, her great brown eyes glowing with -life and eagerness, she insisted on shaking -hands with everyone at the table. Her -slender frame seemed filled with a sudden -flame of vitality. -</p> - -<p> -"You've made me so happy!" she cried, -speaking then to Pontifex. "Not the money, -not alone what it will mean to us all—but -your goodness! All of you! Oh, if father -could only tell you how he must feel about -it——" -</p> - -<p> -She flung her arms around Mrs. Pontifex -and kissed that lady heartily. -</p> - -<p> -Up the craggy countenance of the Missus -welled a slow tide of crimson, which swiftly -waned again. Corny looked at Boatswain -Joe and grinned. The deep-set, cavernous -eyes of Captain Pontifex sought the impassively -watching face of Miles Hathaway—sought -it with a satiric gleam in their dark -depths. Then they returned to the girl. -</p> - -<p> -"Duty is duty," he said unctuously. -"We've tried to do what's right, madam. -The consciousness of having done right is a -great stay in time of trouble. We——" -</p> - -<p> -The words were cut short by an appalling -scream which seemed to wail out of the air -overhead, At that scream a silence like death -fell upon the cabin. -</p> - -<p> -Corny furtively crossed himself. Mr. Leman's -flat ugly face turned quite white. -Ericksen flung back his chair and was gone -with a rush. Captain Pontifex leaped to his -feet and followed Boatswain Joe to the -companion. As he set foot on the ladder, the -others crowding at his heels, the brig heeled -over amid a confused trampling and shouting -from above. Florence cried out in fear. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Manuel Mendez was helping a Kanaka -at the wheel, jamming it hard down, bringing -the brig slowly about; he was bawling orders, -while all hands were trimming sail. -</p> - -<p> -"One o' dem lubbers fell off de royal -yard!" bellowed Mendez at the skipper. -He did not think it necessary to explain -that, as a good joke, he had sent one of the -drink-dazed white hands up to the royal, -grinning delightedly as the poor devil shivered -and clung in fright above the swimming -waste of water. But another of the white -men forward had seen. -</p> - -<p> -"It was him done it!" yelled the man -angrily, pointing at Mendez. "He shifted the -helm to——" -</p> - -<p> -Boatswain Joe's fist stopped the utterance, -sent the man rolling into the scuppers. -</p> - -<p> -"Get out that for'ard boat, Bo'sun!" -shouted Captain Pontifex, his voice piercing -the wind as steel pierces paper. "Lively, -now—lively!" -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis stood at the top of the -companionway, his arm about Florence. Beside -him stood the Missus, rocklike and silent. -Dennis had caught those words from forward, -and seen Ericksen's blow; he stood grimly -watching, his lips compressed. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Leman, with uncanny swiftness, joined -Boatswain Joe at the forward whaleboat. -It was quickly swung out and lowered, the -Kanakas tumbling into it, Leman and -Ericksen following. Behind, somewhere in the -tossing sea crests, was the black dot of a man's -head. Before the boat was half-way to it, the -head had vanished. The man was gone. -</p> - -<p> -"Be a little more careful with those men, -Mr. Mendez," said Pontifex, watching the -whaleboat put about and return. "We'll -need 'em." -</p> - -<p> -That was all. No anger, no inquiry, no -more concern over the death of a man—the -needless brutal murder of a man—than if -that man had been a wandering sea-gull. -Tom Dennis drew Florence below, hoping -that she had not understood. But when he -looked into her eyes, he knew that she <i>had</i> -understood. -</p> - -<p> -"Tom, I—can't believe it!" she said -faintly, horror in her wide brown eyes. -"He spoke as though—it didn't matter." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis made light of the affair. "Never -mind, dear. We don't know all the circumstances, -and of course the skipper can't blame -his mate in public. It would hurt -discipline. Just try and forget it, and not refer -to it." -</p> - -<p> -The girl shivered. "I can't forget that -awful scream!" -</p> - -<p> -No further reference was made to the -affair, beyond the skipper's explaining, later, -that an unavoidable lurch of the ship had -caused the accident. But it was long before -Florence could look upon Manuel Mendez, -when he joined them at mess, without -changing countenance. There was something -dreadful in the grinning calm of the black -Portuguese. His eternal good humour was -ominous. -</p> - -<p> -"We mustn't let little outside matters -affect us," said Tom Dennis that same night. -"The main point, Florence, so far as we're -concerned, is your father, and the way -Pontifex and his company are acting." -</p> - -<p> -"I know, Tom, dear," she said. "They've -been very good." -</p> - -<p> -He sensed a constraint in her air, but put -it down to the accident. -</p> - -<p> -Two days later, however, the inquietude -within him, which had been lulled to sleep -by that meeting of the company, was awakened -with terrible swiftness. He had been -discussing with Pontifex how to get into -communication with Miles Hathaway, and -the skipper professed himself quite helpless -in the matter, leaving it entirely to Florence's -ingenuity. -</p> - -<p> -The lack of concern which Pontifex expressed -struck Tom Dennis as being unnatural, -under the circumstances. But a little later, -as Dennis stood in talk with Mr. Leman, who -was discussing whaling voyages, he squinted -up at the sails. -</p> - -<p> -"Better trim your yards a bit, hadn't -you?" said Dennis thoughtlessly. "Looks -as if you were losing a good bit of that wind, -Mr. Leman." -</p> - -<p> -The mate started slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"Where'd you learn so much about sails, -Mr. Dennis?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I just picked it up," Dennis laughed. -"But if you're in a hurry to reach Unalaska, -I should think you'd trim sail a bit." -</p> - -<p> -"Orders were to keep her as she is," said -Leman curtly, and turned away. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis shrugged his shoulders. It was -none of his business how the ship was run, -and if Pontifex had reasons for not hurrying, -well and good. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Meantime, the silent and motionless Miles -Hathaway sat in the cabin, puffing sometimes -at the pipe Florence filled for him, watching -her as she worked, with unmoving terrible -eyes. Tom helped her take care of him, and -always it seemed to Dennis that Hathaway -was mutely struggling to express something. -Once Dennis got out a chart and attempted -to locate the wreck. -</p> - -<p> -"Watch my finger, Captain Hathaway," -he directed. "If I get 'warm', as the kids -used to say, open your mouth." -</p> - -<p> -The effort was fruitless, for although -Dennis traced his fingers over the entire -line of the Aleuts, Miles Hathaway remained -unmoving. In the end, Dennis began to think -that the man either did not understand, or -possessed a brain as dead as his body. At -times, too, the paralytic was almost unable -to open his mouth or to swallow. His lips -had no independent motion. To communicate -with him seemed impossible. -</p> - -<p> -It was the third evening following the -meeting in the cabin. Tom and Florence had -put Hathaway to bed, and after bidding the -skipper and his wife good night, went on deck -for a breath of air. Mendez had the deck. -Wishing to avoid the black mate, Florence -led the way forward to the lee of the brick -try-works. There Tom Dennis lighted his -pipe, and for a little they sat together in -silence, under the strangely soothing yet -invigorating influence of the slapping sails -and the rushing foam-crested rollers that -roared under the lee-rail. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly a figure appeared coming from -aft, preceded by a whimpering sniffle. It -was Jerry, the moon-faced cabin boy and -he was blubbering away with the subdued -racking sobs of a boy. -</p> - -<p> -"Hello, Jerry!" said Dennis. "What's -the trouble?" -</p> - -<p> -Jerry peered at them and rubbed his eyes, -</p> - -<p> -"The Missus whaled me; then he chipped -in and kicked the back off'm me, drat him!" -</p> - -<p> -"What'd you do, Jerry?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothin' at all!" responded the boy -defiantly. "The mate sent me down to clean -his cabin, an' they didn't know I was there, -an' the door was open. He says it's a hell -of a note about Frenchy not bringin' that -phonygraft, and it was the best idea ever -was, and she says yes, maybe we'd better -give the old son of a gun another taste of hot -iron. He says no, there ain't no need of that, -because we got the bulge on him now and -he'll talk in a hurry, knowin' she's aboard, -and it's all Bo'sun's fault for slippin' up -and lettin' Frenchy slip up that way. Just -then they heard me, and she whaled me and -he kicked me up the ladder. Drat him! I -wisht I was off'm this old ship!" -</p> - -<p> -Jerry passed on forward, sniffling. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis stood very still. He felt -Florence draw herself up; he caught a -startled gasp from her lips; but he was thinking -with a wild sickening surety, of what the -skipper had said. Frenchy—and the phonograph! -</p> - -<p> -There was the missing link. No use -disguising the facts any longer; no use trying -to cover up what was only too obvious! -Frenchy—that was the assassin; and Ericksen -<i>had</i> been in partnership with him, there -in Chicago! And Hathaway would talk now -that Florence was aboard—— -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis shivered suddenly. "Come, -dear!" he said in a strange voice. "Come -below. I have something to tell you." -</p> - -<p> -He felt that she was sobbing softly, and -halted. "What's the matter, Florence?" -</p> - -<p> -She only shook her head, and taking his -arm accompanied him to the companionway. -Dennis was alarmed by her attitude; upon -reaching their own cabin she threw her arms -about him, a sudden paroxysm of sobs shaking -her whole body. Dennis could obtain no -response to his queries for a moment, until -the girl suddenly looked up into his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"I—I couldn't tell you before, Tom! -I thought perhaps it had been the wreck, -and all that," she said, brokenly. "But -poor father—his feet were burned, and his -arms—at least, I know now that the scars -were of burns! You heard what Jerry said. -And father's eyes are giving him a lot of -trouble; sometimes he can't use them at all, -and it seems to hurt him when they're open. -I—I can't dare to think that anyone would -have deliberately hurt him——" -</p> - -<p> -"Good Lord!" broke from Dennis. "It's -not credible! Yet, if Frenchy was my -Chicago visitor—here, old girl, sit down! -I've something to tell you. I can't quite -face the meaning of it—yet it's bound to -mean but one thing——" -</p> - -<p> -He drew the wondering sobbing girl -to a chair beside him, and for the first time -told her of his strange assailant in Chicago -on the night of their departure. He connected -up the links—finding Ericksen in the man's -compartment; the square suitcase and its -contents—and now the remarks of Pontifex -about that phonograph, as reported by the -innocent Jerry. -</p> - -<p> -As she listened, the apprehension and grief -of Florence for the helpless and seemingly -tortured father began to be absorbed in the -deep significance of the entire affair. She -sat in frowning thought, while Dennis drew -from his memory the little things which at -the time he had scarce noted, but which now -seemed so laden with significance—even the -strange unconcern of Pontifex over communicating -with Miles Hathaway. At this last, -Florence lifted her head. -</p> - -<p> -"I know—the same thing struck me, -Tom. I was talking about it with Mrs. Pontifex -to-day; she had the air of discouraging -me in the attempt. Why? Why don't -they want us to communicate with poor -father? It will be hard at best, because of -his eyes; I'm going to make up an eyewash -for him until we can reach a doctor. But -why their attitude? Everything seemed so -honest and so kindly at that meeting the other -day! And when I kissed Mrs. Pontifex——" -</p> - -<p> -"She blushed, by George!" snapped -Dennis suddenly. "And anything that could -make that woman blush—here, let me think! -Jerry gave the whole game away to us. The -clue lies in what the skipper said about -your father talking now that you were -aboard——" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -He broke off abruptly, filled and lighted his -pipe, and sat staring before him. Not for -nothing had he followed the newspaper game. -Not for nothing had he been one of the best -rewrite men in Chicago! He had been trained -in the business of making a whole cloth from -scattered scraps. -</p> - -<p> -"Got it! Listen here, Florence," he said -suddenly. "Pontifex found your father, and -either took him to a house, where those -snapshots were made, or to this ship—no -matter which. Face facts, now! All this -goody-goody talk is bluff. Pontifex was busy -trying to extort the secret of the <i>Simpson's</i> -position from your father, so he sent Boatswain -Joe to get you; and he sent that clever -little assassin, Frenchy, to get this phonograph -that's in my grip—why, we don't know. -But for some reason he wanted it, and wanted -it badly! -</p> - -<p> -"Ericksen did not want me to accompany -you. He called in Frenchy at the last minute -to put me out of the way—and Frenchy -meant murder. There's a salient fact! How -did Boatswain Joe slip up, as Pontifex -termed it? In not bringing you alone. -They wanted you—alone! A second salient -fact. Why? Pontifex has said it: in order -to force your father to talk!" -</p> - -<p> -"But Tom!" broke in Florence quickly. -"Father can't talk!" -</p> - -<p> -"All bluff. Pontifex can communicate -with him, somehow. They simply didn't -want us to do so." -</p> - -<p> -"But that's why they wanted <i>me</i>! And -then, my signature on that paper——" -</p> - -<p> -"More bluff!" flung out Dennis. "They -tortured your father—don't shrink from it—and -he would not tell the secret. They got you -aboard and sailed, knowing that for your -sake, to get you out of their power, your -father would give up anything. I'm a mere -incident, an incumbrance. They're not -hurrying. They want Frenchy to reach -Unalaska first and come aboard there. I'd -recognize him again, which would spoil -their game at this juncture." -</p> - -<p> -"They don't mean to land us there?" She -spoke steadily, but her face was pale. -</p> - -<p> -"I doubt it. They'll try to get rid of me -there. They may take you and your father -along, to be sure that they get the right -position from him. The ultimate outcome -would be probably of no danger to you—they'd -sell the salvaged stuff to Japan or -Canada or China, and would land you -wherever they went. They might even keep -the signed agreement—in part. They'd -give you enough money to make it inadvisable -for you to start any legal proceedings, as -they have your agreement to the terms, and -you'll never know how much they get for the -salvage. You understand? If your father -gives them the correct position of the wreck, -you are possibly in no danger." -</p> - -<p> -"And you, Tom?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis grinned. "They want me out of -the way. They think I'll make trouble. -Well, I <i>know</i> I will! Don't you worry about -me. They'll do nothing until Unalaska and -the revenue cutter are left behind, see? -And by that time, little Tommy will have -spoiled their game." -</p> - -<p> -"How?" demanded Florence, her eyes anxious. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't know yet," said Dennis cheerfully. -"If I——" -</p> - -<p> -"Tom! What was it that Pontifex said -to you about reading Dumas? Why, I -I know just what they got that phonograph -for—oh, I wish I'd known about it!" -</p> - -<p> -"You do? What?" -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you remember in one of the Dumas -novels there was a paralytic, and they made -him blink his eyelids twice for 'No' and once -for 'Yes'? I was thinking about it only this -afternoon, and meant to try it with father! -And those phonograph records, with the -alphabet and numerals on them—don't you -see? Play a record and father would wink -at the right letter of figure until he spelled -out a word——" -</p> - -<p> -"By George!" Dennis stared at the flushed -and excited girl. "By George! You've hit -it square on the head—and I never thought of -it! We'll try it to-morrow——" -</p> - -<p> -Florence leaned forward, colour glowing -in her pale face, her eyes dilated by swift -excitement and resolution, yet dominated -by their strangely poised radiance. All her -spirit shone in her eyes—all her heritage of -soul, her heritage of iron nature, tempered -and alloyed and refined to an almost dangerous -degree by her womanhood. Tom Dennis -gazed into her eyes and wondered, as he -had wondered on that memorable afternoon -when she had said: "We'll only win by -daring; so we shall dare everything!" -</p> - -<p> -"No, Tom!" she said firmly. "Not the -phonograph! They must not know that we -have it, or they'll know that we suspect their -whole game! In the morning I'll corroborate -your theory from father's lips—the way that -Dumas' story did. We have two or three more -days until we reach Unalaska. In that time -don't dare give them any suspicion! Watch -everything; but say nothing. -</p> - -<p> -"Before we reach Unalaska we'll formulate -a plan of action between us. They have -bitterly wronged us; they have lied to us; -they've tried to murder us. And we'll fight -them! Do you agree?" -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis laughed suddenly and kissed -her on the lips. -</p> - -<p> -"You bet!" he said deeply. "We'll fight!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VIII -<br /><br /> -MILES HATHAWAY TALKS -</h3> - -<p> -Close upon noon the following day, moon-faced -Jerry was heading for the after cabins, -broom in hand, with intent to sweep up the -mess cabin. Manuel Mendez, who had the -deck, playfully whipped out his sheath-knife, -and pretended to dive for Jerry. -With a howl of terror, the boy slashed the -mate's shins with the broom-handle—a wild -blow. -</p> - -<p> -"Leave go o' me, you nigger!" he howled, -as the hand of Mendez caught his collar. -</p> - -<p> -"Who you call nigger? Me?" demanded -Manuel Mendez angrily. "What you t'ink -dis ship be, huh? You say 'sir' to de mate, -queeck!" -</p> - -<p> -One giant black hand encircling the boy's -throat; Mendez laughed and choked him -until Jerry's face was purple. Then, having -heard the desired "sir", Mendez flung Jerry -at the companionway which swallowed him -from sight. -</p> - -<p> -At the bottom of the ladder, Jerry -perceived Captain Pontifex bearing his -instruments and going above for the noon -observation. Jerry sidled into the nearest cabin -and hid. He knew that the Missus was up -forward in the galley, safely engaged in -getting dinner. -</p> - -<p> -Thus it happened that when Florence went -swiftly to the stern cabin, and Tom Dennis -stood upon the companion ladder to give her -warning of any approaching danger from -above, neither of them knew that moon-faced -Jerry was fearfully waiting and listening -inside the cabin of Mendez, the door slightly -ajar. And that cabin adjoined the stern -cabin. -</p> - -<p> -"Father—can you wink your eyelids once -for 'yes' and twice for 'no'? Quickly!" -</p> - -<p> -Florence stood before the immobile figure -of her father, watching him with anxious -desperate eyes. The eyes of Miles Hathaway -winked—very slowly, very slightly, but -very perceptibly. Was it chance or design? -</p> - -<p> -"Have you given the position of the wreck -to Captain Pontifex?" breathed the girl. -Her father's eyes closed twice. A sudden glory -shone in her face, as she realized that this was -no accident—that she was communicating -with her father at last! -</p> - -<p> -"You heard all that passed at the meeting -here," she hurried on. "Was he sincere in -what he said? Does he mean to keep his -promises to us?" -</p> - -<p> -The eyelids of the paralytic fluttered twice. -</p> - -<p> -"Have they harmed you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Can we trust anyone aboard here?" -</p> - -<p> -No answer. Evidently Hathaway was not -sure upon this point. -</p> - -<p> -"Have they any intentions of harming me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"They have! And Tom too?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Yes." Repeated, this time, manifestly -for emphasis. The girl paled slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"Will they harm us before we reach Unalaska?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis began to whistle cheerily. -Florence, who had filled her father's pipe, -put it between his lips and held a match -while he puffed. As she did so, the door -behind her was flung open, and into the cabin -came Tom, propelling before him the cabin -boy Jerry. -</p> - -<p> -"Heard everything you said, Florence," -said Dennis, surveying the shrinking boy. -"Now, Jerry, what d'you mean by spying on -us? Who set you in there to listen?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nobody." Jerry began to blubber. -"But that nigger Mendez kicked me downstairs, -and I seen <i>him</i> comin', and I ducked -in there. I didn't mean to hear nothing -honest! And I won't tell them, neither, if -ye let me go. Don't whale me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Lord, Jerry, I wouldn't hurt you!" -said Dennis; but he frowned as he spoke. -He looked at Florence and gestured helplessly. -If the boy told—their game was done! -</p> - -<p> -"Jerry," said the girl, suddenly stooping -and kissing the gaping boy, "do you like -Captain Pontifex?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, I don't! I hate him! And if we -ever get anywhere, I'm going to run away." -</p> - -<p> -"He hates us, Jerry. Do you want to go -away from this ship with us? -</p> - -<p> -"You bet, ma'am. Can I?" -</p> - -<p> -"If you don't say a word to anyone about -what you just heard. If you do, Mr. Dennis -and I will suffer, and you'll get no chance -to run away." -</p> - -<p> -"Cross m'heart, ma'am." And Jerry -earnestly suited action to word. A sudden -excitement shone in his eyes. "They've -double-crossed you all the time. I know; -I've heard 'em talk! They're goin' to give -you to that man Frenchy, that used to be -cook. I never seen him, but they talk about -him lots." -</p> - -<p> -"All right, Jerry," said Dennis hastily. -"Beat it before the skipper comes back." -</p> - -<p> -The boy fled. Dennis looked at the flushed -hurt face of Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"Give me—to that man!" she said faintly. -"Oh! It—it's impossible——" -</p> - -<p> -"Right, old girl—it's quite impossible." Dennis -made a gesture of caution, as he heard -the sound of steps from the passage. "You -leave it to me, that's all. I'm sorry you heard -that, Florence; but it'll be all right. Better -take that pipe from your father, or we'll -forget it. Eight bells just struck and we'd -better run along to dinner." -</p> - -<p> -The skipper entered, with a smiling nod and -a twirl of his moustache. -</p> - -<p> -"Unalaska day after to-morrow, if the -wind hold," he announced, his deep-set eyes -flitting from face to face as if seeking secrets -there. "All's well?" -</p> - -<p> -"All well and hungry, skipper." Dennis -turned to the door. "Coming?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not for five minutes. I want to jot down -these figures and work out our position." -</p> - -<p> -During the meal which ensued, Tom -Dennis marvelled at the manner in which -Florence maintained her cool poise, with -never a token to indicate the terrific ordeal to -which she had so lately been subjected. And -little Jerry, his moon-face white and frightened, -served the table with an occasional adoring -glance at the girl; the danger from Jerry -was palpably eliminated. -</p> - -<p> -To dare risk further conversation with -Miles Hathaway would be unadvisable, -Dennis realized. Discussing the matter with -Florence that afternoon, he found all traces -of excitement gone from her; she was coolly -alert, and much better poised than was -Dennis himself. Fury was so deep and strong -within him that it was difficult for him -to restrain his passion; but Florence had -become quite cool and dispassionate. -</p> - -<p> -"It is quite clear, Tom," she said quietly, -"that we must get father off this ship at -Unalaska. If the revenue cutter is there, -you had better interview the commander, -tell exactly what has happened, and have -father placed ashore. If the revenue cutter is -not there, the port authorities——" -</p> - -<p> -"Will probably be too slow to act," put -in Dennis. "And there's another thing—this -ship has diving equipment aboard, with all -things necessary for the work in hand. I -want to go after the wreck of the <i>Simpson</i>, -Florence: I believe that Pontifex will be -only too glad to set us all ashore at Unalaska -provided he could get the location of that -wreck." -</p> - -<p> -"But he wouldn't trust father to give -him the correct location. He'd hold us, or -hold father, as hostages." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis nodded, frowningly. After a moment -he rose. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear, please go to your father at once, -Tell him that it is absolutely essential that -he give Pontifex the correct location of that -wreck. Tell him that I shall handle the entire -matter in such a way that Pontifex will -ultimately get his just desserts; but for the -present it is necessary that Pontifex should -not suspect us." -</p> - -<p> -"And you, Tom? What are you going to do now?" -</p> - -<p> -"I'm going to see the skipper—I think he's -on deck. If your father consents to do as I -request, please call us at once." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis hurried out to the companion way, -and ascended to the deck. -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex was there, indeed—tall and cavernous, -caressing his curled black moustache -while he talked with Mr. Leman. Dennis -approached them with his heartiest manner. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, gentlemen, good news!" he said -warmly. "Do you remember, Captain, -mentioning Dumas to me when we came -aboard? That gave us an idea, and I believe -that Mrs. Dennis will be able to communicate -with her father. In fact, I expect her to -call us down there at any moment to get the -location of that wreck. Pretty good, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Leman rubbed his broken nose. The -skipper gave Dennis a sharp look, then forced -a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, certainly, Mr. Dennis! Very glad -indeed to hear it. The means?" -</p> - -<p> -"By Captain Hathaway's winking his eyes -in response to certain questions. Simple, -if we'd only thought about it, eh? And, -Captain, Mrs. Dennis and I both think that -when we reach Unalaska she had better be -put ashore there with her father. She's rather -worried over his condition, and she'd be able -to secure comforts ashore which can't be had -here." -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex nodded absently. His pallid -features looked very uneasy. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you'd go on with us?" he asked -after a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course!" assented Dennis heartily. -"Don't you want me?" -</p> - -<p> -"You bet we do!" returned the skipper -fervently, his face clearing. "We'll need -every man aboard when the work begins." -</p> - -<p> -"Good—then it's settled!" exclaimed -Dennis. "When do we make Unimak Pass?" -</p> - -<p> -"To-morrow night," spoke up Mr. Leman, -and fell to discussing the weather. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Five minutes later Florence appeared on -deck, smiled and nodded brightly as the two -officers touched their caps, and approached -them with well-assumed eagerness. -</p> - -<p> -"I can talk with father!" she exclaimed -as though the discovery were fresh. "Come, -down, gentlemen! He knows exactly what -I'm saying, Tom, and winks once for 'yes' and -twice for 'no'! I asked if he'd give us the -exact location of the wreck, and he said -'yes'; so I came to call you at once." -</p> - -<p> -"Excellent, Mrs. Dennis! I congratulate -you," exclaimed the skipper. "Mr. Leman -cannot leave the deck. I'll call Mr. Mendez -as we go down. Well, well, Mrs. Dennis! -Your husband was just telling us of the method -of communication. Quite ingenious, quite! -By the way, have you seen Mrs. Pontifex?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Leman, who entirely disregarded the -conventional title of the lady, sang out in -quick response: -</p> - -<p> -"The Missus is up for'ard in the galley. -Ahoy, Corny! Pass up the word for the -Missus!" -</p> - -<p> -So the word was "passed up", and the large -figure of Mrs. Pontifex appeared near the -try-works as Florence descended the -companion ladder. With the Missus at the end -of the procession, the others passed on into -the stern cabin, the skipper knocking at the -door of Manuel Mendez <i>en route</i> and -commanding his immediate presence. -</p> - -<p> -"Best do this all shipshape," suggested -the skipper, when they stood before and around -the immobile figure of Miles Hathaway. -"I'll get out a chart, Mrs. Dennis——" -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex searched his chart locker and did -not find the desired chart until Manuel -Mendez appeared, smiling his eternal and -monstrous grin. Then Pontifex produced a -chart of the Aleutian Islands. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, ma'am," he addressed Florence, -"while I read off the figures to your poor old -father, you stand by to watch for the answers. -All ready? Good. Let's take up the latitude -first—easier to determine the position that -way. Now, is the position north of fifty-four?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," returned Florence almost at once. -</p> - -<p> -"Hm! That cuts out everything north of -Dutch Harbour, eh? North of fifty-two?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," answered Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"Good enough, ma'am. Now let's take -up the longitude. West from Greenwich?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Between one seventy-four and seventy-eight?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"Between one seventy-eight and eighty?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes!" exclaimed Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"Getting warm, eh?" Pontifex spoke -eagerly, a tinge of red in his pale cheeks. "Ah! -It's among that clump of islands south-east -of Tanaga. Now, Mr. Hathaway, kindly -follow my pencil from island to island with -your eyes, this way——" -</p> - -<p> -The skipper slowly passed the point of a -pencil from one barren rock island to another. -A swift cry from Florence checked him; -holding his pencil, he gazed steadily at -Miles Hathaway. -</p> - -<p> -"Is this it?" he demanded, a sudden ring -of steel in his tone. "This one—the most -southerly of the rocks to the eastward of -Kavalga?" -</p> - -<p> -The gaze of one and all centred upon Miles -Hathaway who for a moment met the level -gaze of Pontifex with unmoving eyes. Then, -slowly, Hathaway signified "Yes". -</p> - -<p> -A deep breath filled the cabin; but the -tense attitude of Pontifex did not change. -He held his eyes steadily upon those of -Hathaway. His voice came like a challenge, -steely and commanding. -</p> - -<p> -"Is that the correct position, Captain -Hathaway—upon your word of honour?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," signalled Hathaway immediately. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Pontifex turned. He rolled up -the chart and tossed it upon the table. -</p> - -<p> -"Hathaway's word is as good as my -own—and that means <i>good</i>," he said quietly. -"Now, Mrs. Dennis, am I correct in believing -that you wish to be set ashore with your -father at Unalaska?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." Florence looked at him, smiling. -"I'll be sorry to miss the salvage work, -Captain Pontifex, but I'd like to obtain -medical aid for my father, and to care for -him ashore in person. He's more important -to me than any money, you understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of course." And Pontifex nodded. -</p> - -<p> -The Missus was watching him in unconcealed -surprise, while Mendez had ceased -entirely to smile. This was their first hint -about setting anyone ashore. Pontifex -caressed his moustache and glanced at them, -his deep-set eyes ironic. -</p> - -<p> -"Mrs. Dennis and Captain Hathaway shall -be set ashore at Unalaska," he said. -"Mr. Dennis goes with us as their representative, -to take part in the work on the <i>Simpson</i>. I -think that concludes our meeting." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Five minutes later, in the privacy of their -own cabin, Florence faced Tom Dennis, her -hands on his shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear, I had hard work to make father -consent," she said quietly. "But he yielded -to my love and utter confidence in you. Now -tell me—why did you do it? Do you really -mean to go alone with these men, on this -ship?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis filled his pipe, stooped to kiss her -lips, then struck a match. -</p> - -<p> -"I most certainly do, my dear. The -chances are a thousand to one that the revenue -cutter will not be in Unalaska Bay. In that -event, you and your father will go ashore, -while I shall sail with the <i>Pelican</i>. You'll -take my big grip ashore, containing that -phonograph and records. By this means your -father can tell his entire story to the proper -authorities. That will take time, of course, -and it will take time to summon the revenue -cutter, even by wireless. -</p> - -<p> -"I believe that under the circumstances, I -an oath can be administered to your father -in a perfectly legal manner. You know the -position of the wreck. With your father's -story as a basis for action you can go to work -in a proper manner with the authorities; -whatever charges your father lays against -Pontifex can be sworn to; your own signature -to the agreement with Pontifex was obtained -by fraud and deceit. -</p> - -<p> -"You understand? Do nothing in a -hurry. Give us a clear two weeks in which to -get this ship loaded with the salvaged stuff. -Then get sharp quick action, file a libel, or -whatever the term is to denote an attachment -of the ship. Sue Pontifex heavily in -both your father's name and in ours, and -claim whatever he has salvaged in your own -name. We'll grab his ship and his salvaged -stuff at one swoop, see? While that's going -through the courts, we will gut the <i>John -Simpson</i> of all that's left in her. There's a -newspaper man in Vancouver named Margate; -I'll give you cables to send off to him. He'll -doubtless be able to get backing and to -charter some kind of an old tub—and while -Pontifex is in the courts with us, Margate will -be looting the <i>Simpson</i>, before the general -public gets wise to where the <i>John Simpson</i> -is lying. See?" -</p> - -<p> -The eyes of the girl were large with -wonder-admiration, and delight. Then fear struck -into their depths. -</p> - -<p> -"The plan is wonderful, Tom! But you—in -the meantime?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis grinned. "Me? I'll be jollying old -Pontifex along; never fear!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IX -<br /><br /> -UNALASKA BAY -</h3> - -<p> -Unalaska—at last! -</p> - -<p> -The tortuous, narrow and even precipitous -passage, winding nearly two miles amid the -rocks, lay behind, and now the good ship -<i>Pelican</i> was swinging to her anchor in front -of the little town hardly more than a village. -In the little bight was no other large craft, -although several fishing boats were rocking -to their moorings. -</p> - -<p> -The Arctic summer, intense and vivid -as though to make up for its brief duration, -was at an end. None the less, the breeze -from the shore carried a sweet fragrance of -flowers, the little town was still radiant with -blossoming gardens, and all over the hills -which lay banked around the town there were -patches of gay flowers and the deep lush green -of rank grasses. -</p> - -<p> -With great care Miles Hathaway and -his wheeled chair were lowered into a boat. -Tom Dennis and Florence followed, together -with Captain Pontifex, who had proffered his -services in securing a place of abode for -Florence and her father. Once upon the dock, -Dennis took charge of the chair, and all three -started up-town, Pontifex carrying Dennis' -big suitcase. -</p> - -<p> -"Feels good to have the solid earth underfoot -again," said Dennis. "How long do you -expect to lay up here, Skipper?" -</p> - -<p> -"We'll go out with the tide to-night," -returned Pontifex. "I expect to pick up a -cook here, who was to reach Unalaska by one -of the island steamers, and I want to get -our mail and papers. If we can get -Mrs. Dennis comfortably berthed this afternoon, -there'll be nothing to detain us, beyond -standing off her trunk." -</p> - -<p> -"Besides," he added in a lowered voice, -"I'm anxious not to let the news slip out -of what we're after. Before we could get -clear of the island we'd have schooners -dogging us. In case Mrs. Dennis would like any -ready money——" -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you, Captain, I need nothing," -said Florence quietly. -</p> - -<p> -Little Jerry had not been allowed to come -ashore, much to the disappointment of -Florence, who had been bent upon rescuing the -lad. Dennis, however, had already formulated -a plan of action, largely because he considered -that the boy's testimony would be of -tremendous weight in backing up Florence when -she interviewed the authorities. -</p> - -<p> -An hour later, with the afternoon half -gone, Florence and Captain Hathaway were -snugly ensconced as paying guests in a -cottage not far behind the ancient Greek church. -Captain Pontifex had departed on his own -business. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear, are you <i>sure</i>?" In the security of her -hired room, with the immobile Miles Hathaway -watching them from his chair, Florence -sought the gaze of Tom Dennis. To him it -seemed that her eye held a glowing probe of -fire, searching his very soul. -</p> - -<p> -"Remember, Tom dear, that I mustn't -lose you. You're my one sure strong anchor -in the world; your love and you are necessary -to me," she said steadily. "So are you sure? -Are you sure that the best plan would not be -to stop here ashore and have Pontifex placed -under restraint—here and now? -</p> - -<p> -"Are you sure that we had not best let -the thought of money and salvage go for -the present, placing our own lives and safety -first of all? Are you sure you can come back -to me, my dear?" -</p> - -<p> -Despite the brave soul of her, at those -last words her voice faltered. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear wife, I am sure," said Dennis -simply. "I shall play the game safely, -letting them suspect nothing of what I -know, and before any crisis occurs you will -have acted. Two weeks—remember!" -</p> - -<p> -"And you think Pontifex will suspect -nothing if Jerry disappears to-night?" -</p> - -<p> -"He would not consent to leave you and -your father here together, knowing that you -can communicate, if he suspected anything. -He will think that Jerry has run away, -and will doubtless figure on picking up the -boy when he returns—he'll be too anxious -to reach the <i>John Simpson</i> to bother about -suspicions. It has not occurred to him that -you would ask your father any questions out -of the ordinary, and certainly your father -cannot tell anything of what has happened -unless asked. You have the phonograph and -records in that valise, so go ahead and don't -worry about me, dear. I'll play my part." -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed, dear." She leaned forward and -held up her face to his. "Then let's leave -father here, and go out to see the town; -we'll spend our last hours together, before -you go, and you can arrange about poor little -Jerry." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -An hour afterward, a grizzled old fisherman -was listening to Tom Dennis and shaking -his head in stubborn negation. -</p> - -<p> -"Not me, sir!" he affirmed with emphasis. -"I dassn't run around the harbour without -no light——" -</p> - -<p> -"But your lantern might go out for five -minutes!" -</p> - -<p> -"Not mine, sir. Besides, helpin' a feller -escape from a whaler ain't no jokin' matter! -Fact it ain't. I'd like to earn the money -all right, but I dassn't buck up ag'in the -law." -</p> - -<p> -Florence gave her husband a meaning glance. -</p> - -<p> -"Tom, please let me speak to him in -private a moment!" -</p> - -<p> -Shrugging his shoulders, Dennis walked -away. As he strode up and down, he saw -that Florence was speaking very earnestly, -and that the grizzled fisherman seemed very -uneasy. But presently the fisherman grinned -and nodded, shaking hands with Florence. -He had agreed. -</p> - -<p> -"What on earth did you say to him?" -demanded Dennis, as they were walking away. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I made it clear that he'd be doing a -good deed—that's all." A ripple of laughter -danced like sunlight across her face. "Why, -from what you said, the poor man thought he -would be compounding a felony!" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis chuckled. "I guess a man would be -willing to compound anything, if you'd smile -at him and beg him to do it! Well, you're -right about the good-deed part of it, and I'm -glad it's settled. Let's look up some supper -ashore; then I'll go aboard ship." -</p> - -<p> -The skipper had promised to send a boat -ashore for Dennis; so, when darkness was -beginning to fall, he hailed the brigantine -from the dock, Florence at his side. Five -minutes later a whaleboat was pulling in, -with Ericksen in the stern. -</p> - -<p> -"Good-bye, my dear, and God bring you -back safely," said Florence softly, as she -kissed him good-bye. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis answered with a reassuring smile. -"You've got my little flash-light, haven't you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Everything as planned, my heart. Good-bye!" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis climbed down into the boat which -swept around and headed back to the brig. -Florence stood on the dock, watching. She -exchanged a final wave of the hand before the -boat swept out of sight under the counter of -the <i>Pelican</i>; then she turned and slowly -walked in to the shore. -</p> - -<p> -There, however, she remained, in the -shadow of the long warehouses already piled -high with bone from other whaling ships. -Darkness closed down upon the bay, and the -lights of the little town began to glimmer and -gleam under the hills. Out on the water -the lamps of the <i>Pelican</i> showed red and white -in the gloom. -</p> - -<p> -Had the cook, Frenchy, come aboard? -Florence did not know. She knew that -Tom Dennis was there, among men who -indubitably meant him no good; whether -his would-be assassin had reached Unalaska -in time to join the ship, she knew not. She -waited, shivering a little, until by degrees -the red side-light vanished. Presently the -lights showed green and white—and she -knew that the tide was on the ebb, that the -ship had swung about to her cable. There -was a light breeze, but strong enough to -carry the brig to sea. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Suddenly a flare lighted up the forward -deck of the whaler. The voice of Bo'sun Joe -drifted over the water with strange sweetness, -joined by the voices of other men and -interjected by the guttural utterances of -Kanakas trying to keep tune; while the clicking -pawls and the slowly shifting lights betrayed -that the anchor was coming up: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "We cracked it on, on a big skiute,<br /> - <i>To me hoodah, to me hoodah</i>!<br /> - We cracked it on, on a big skiute,<br /> - <i>Hurrah for the Black Ball line</i>!<br /> - Blow, my bullies, blow,<br /> - For California oh!<br /> - There's plenty of gold<br /> - As I've been told,<br /> - On the banks of the Sacramento-o!"<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Meantime, the capstan chantey was being -drowned by other voices—the steely ring of -Pontifex, the roar of Manuel Mendez, the -shriller tones of Corny and others as orders -were repeated and the topsails were set. The -confusion of voices became more pronounced. -</p> - -<p> -"Hurry up with that royal!" came the -voice of Pontifex. "Leggo that -lee-brace and trim—hurry up!" -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, sir!" -</p> - -<p> -"Head-sails and spanker ready sir," came -the voice of Leman. "Anchor a-trip!" -</p> - -<p> -Then a confused medley of orders: -</p> - -<p> -"Brace round them head-yards! -Cat your hook and shake out those -courses! ... Aft with that sheet, now. Shake -a leg! ... Bo'sun, haul out that bowline!" -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, sir! Haul out the bowline!" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="poem"> - Haul upon the bowline, Kitty lives at Liverpool,<br /> - <i>Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul</i>!<br /> - Haul upon the bowline, Kitty lives at Liverpool,<br /> - <i>Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul</i>!<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Breathless, Florence watched and listened. -Would Tom succeed without trouble? Would -the plan, dangerous at best, succeed in -getting little Jerry safe ashore? The ship's -lights were slowly moving now, moving -toward the entrance of that winding, precipitous -passage. Captain Pontifex was in charge -himself, for the passage demanded sharp -tacking and skilful handling; his steely -voice carried back across the light wind, -across the silence of the northern night. -Florence strained her eyes into the darkness. -The time was at hand, now. -</p> - -<p> -"Ready about! Down your helm, there! -Hard-a-lee!" Florence could picture the -big spanker-boom hauled in, the head-sheets -slackening off; the lights showed -that the brig was coming up into the wind, -"Tacks and sheets! Maintops'l haul! Round -with them after-yards, there! Fore-bowline, -let go an' haul!" -</p> - -<p> -Not ten minutes were consumed in the -manoeuvre, for the <i>Pelican</i> was smartly -handled. To the watching Florence, -however, that ten minutes seemed an eternity. -The voices lessened in the distance; the -whaler's lights became tiny glimmering -points as she slowly slid away and was gone. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly, down on the surface of the -water, appeared a tiny pin-point—a flash -of light that was gone instantly. It flashed -again, and again vanished. From the -watching girl came a deep breath—a sigh -of almost agonized relief, as the tension -which was holding her was swiftly relaxed. -</p> - -<p> -After this, nothing. The <i>Pelican</i> was -gone in the winding channel, although -snatches of song drifted back as Bo'sun -Joe led the chanteys that fetched her about -on new tacks. Over the water lay darkness -and silence; from somewhere back in the -town a tiny phonograph lifted a tinkling -piece of band music into the night. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Florence walked out upon the dock, still -trembling beneath the nervous strain of -those moments. Five minutes passed—five -intolerable dragging minutes. Then -from the water she caught the drip and -splash of muffled oars, and she called out -softly. -</p> - -<p> -"All right, ma'am!" came the hoarse -response. A dim shadow loomed up, and -the voice of the grizzled fisherman continued: -"Thought better not to show no light at -all, ma'am. Ain't so likely to get questions -asked——" -</p> - -<p> -"You got him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Aye. Can you give him a hand, ma'am? -The lad's mortal cold——" -</p> - -<p> -Florence leaned down and gripped an icy -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Golly, I sure thought my legs was -froze!" came the chattering voice of Jerry. -With all her surprising strength, the girl -heaved; and he came up beside her. "Scared -stiff, I was!" -</p> - -<p> -"They've gone." Florence turned and -took the horny hand of the fisherman. -"Thank you," she said simply. "I think -Mr. Dennis wanted me to give you this——" -</p> - -<p> -"Sho', ma'am, I don't want no money -for that!" protested the other. But Florence -forced the money upon him, and, with a last -handshake, urged Jerry away toward warmth -and dry clothes. -</p> - -<p> -By this time the boy's teeth were chattering -so that talk was impossible. Upon -reaching her own cottage, where Florence -had already engaged a room for Jerry, she -gave him a spare suit of old clothes which -Dennis had left for him, and left him to -change. -</p> - -<p> -"Be quick!" she exclaimed, as she -departed. "I want to know all about it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Y-y-yes, ma'am," chattered Jerry. -</p> - -<p> -Ten minutes later, partially warmed and -clad in dry clothes, Jerry, moon-faced and -sheepish, stumbled into the room where -Florence sat beside her immobile father. -The eyes of Captain Miles Hathaway dwelt -upon Jerry. -</p> - -<p> -"Come here by the fire." Florence set -him in a chair beside the oil-stove that -warmed the room. "Now, tell me! Did -everything go all right?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes'm, I guess so." Jerry grinned. -"That is, far's I know it did, for <i>me</i>. You -see, Mr. Dennis, he told me what to do. -So just 'fore they called all hands, I messed -things up in the galley consid'able, and -the new cook——" -</p> - -<p> -"The new cook came, then?" interjected -Florence, a little pale. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes'm. Frenchy, they called him. So -him and the steward tailed on the lines, -with the rest, and the Missus, she was mad -as an ol' cat about the galley bein' messed -up, and so she come to 'tend to it, and I -slipped down into the cabins and met -Mr. Dennis. He had the stern window open, -and he give me that electric lamp and a -life-buoy what he'd snaked down from the -stern-rail after dark. -</p> - -<p> -"So I got the life-belt 'round me an' -clumb out the window and hung on the -line that Mr. Dennis had made fast, and -waited till he give me the word. Golly, -I was scared! The skipper, he was right -up there over my head, and he was talkin' -with Frenchy, and he says: 'There's no -call for you to get mad, Dumont. You -get rid of her husband first like you'd ought -to of done back in Chicago.' And Frenchy, -he says, 'Where is he?' The skipper, -he says, 'Down below I guess, but don't -do nothin' now because I figger on sending -him down in a divin'-suit when we get -started to work.' Then they both laughed, -and just then Mr. Dennis, he give me the -word to swing off——" -</p> - -<p> -"Had he heard them talking?" demanded -Florence, white-lipped. -</p> - -<p> -"Naw. He didn't know they was talking -up there at all; he'd been standin' back -from the window a piece, I guess. I was -scared they'd hear him give me the word, -but they didn't. So I slid down into the -water and the ol' ship walked right away -and nobody seen me. Tell you what, it -was cold! I flashed the light a couple o' -times, then the old guy give me a hail -and come alongside and took me in. Golly, -but I was glad!" -</p> - -<p> -Florence sat motionless, a deathly pallor -upon her face. In the boy's report she -glimpsed utter and horrible destruction of -all the plans which she and Tom Dennis -had built up. The whole ghastly truth had -flashed upon her, through the words of -Pontifex which Jerry had overheard—and -which Dennis had not overheard. -</p> - -<p> -They would send Tom down in a diving-suit; -and no one could tell what had happened -under the sea in the green depths! -Florence knew that she would not dare to -put through her share of the scheme, after -this. She might succeed, but only after -Tom Dennis had perished. -</p> - -<p> -"Go along to bed, Jerry," she muttered, -her lips white. The boy looked at her, -and with fear upon his face, rose. He stumbled -away and was gone. -</p> - -<p> -Florence met the motionless dead gaze -of her father. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"You know what it means, father?" she -said, her voice lifeless. "It means that -they'll murder him! If I stop here, he'll -be lost! We can't get the revenue cutter -here before another week, because the -wireless station is closed down—the operator's -sick. We found that out this afternoon. -And, father, Tom matters more to me -than—than anything else!" -</p> - -<p> -The eyes of her father slowly moved. "Yes!" -</p> - -<p> -"No time for the phonograph now; I'll -have to give up our whole scheme of -action." Florence drew a deep breath. "I'll have -to warn Tom, father; the only way to warn -him will be to follow the <i>Pelican</i> and—and -do it openly. I know where the wreck lies. -</p> - -<p> -"That fisherman who brought in -Jerry—I know where he lives. His boat has a -motor, and he says he often cruises among -the islands. I think he'll take me. Anyway, -there's no larger boat here than his. I must -see him to-night, at once, and arrange to get -off in the morning. I'll see the authorities, -explain about the phonograph, and -you can tell them all about it while I'm -gone. Perhaps they can get help to us. If -that fisherman will take me, maybe we can -get Tom away before——" -</p> - -<p> -She broke into low sobs. She could see -only disaster ahead—and duty to the man -whom she loved. Suddenly she leaned -forward, caught her father's lifeless hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Father! You know all about this place, -and everything! Tell me! Is there anything -else I can do? If there is, I'll get out the -phonograph now. Is there?" -</p> - -<p> -Slowly the lids of Miles Hathaway moved -twice. "No." -</p> - -<p> -"And you think I'm right to go? It's -the only thing to do? We'll lose everything, -for Pontifex will loot the wreck and be gone -before we could get back here and have the -cutter after him. But isn't it the only thing -to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said the eyes of Miles Hathaway. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER X -<br /><br /> -THE WRECK -</h3> - -<p> -From Unalaska to the position indicated -upon the chart as the resting-place of the -<i>John Simpson</i> was, in the rough, six hundred -knots—nearly seven hundred miles. -</p> - -<p> -When Tom Dennis wakened, the morning -after the <i>Pelican</i> tacked out of the Unalaska -channel, he found that she had, with the -audacity of all whaling ships, run through -Unimak Pass in the dark and was now tearing -across the North Pacific at an eight-knot -clip, with a stiff south-easter rolling her -along bravely. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis realized full well that he must -avoid all appearance of suspicions having -been awakened in him. When at breakfast -Mrs. Pontifex remarked upon the blessed -relief of having the cook aboard, Dennis -quite ignored the subject therefore, conscious -that Ericksen was watching him with keen -and predatory gaze. -</p> - -<p> -"And when shall we make that position, -Skipper?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex shrugged. "If this breeze holds, -it's a three-day run for us. Barring a dead -calm, we'll be on the spot—let's see, this is -Saturday; we'll be on the spot Tuesday -morning without fail. Eh, Mr. Leman?" -</p> - -<p> -"Easy, sir. Had we better overhaul -that diving-tackle, sir?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Break it out to-day. Bo'sun Joe, -rig up a derrick for'ard to-day; chances are -we'll be able to lay close enough to the wreck -to swing the stuff directly aboard, and we'll -not want to waste time. A south-easter might -lay us up on those islands. Ever been diving, -Mr. Dennis?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis nodded. "Twice. Never at sea, -but in Lake Michigan." -</p> - -<p> -"Then we'll have a new sensation for you, -if you like." Pontifex smiled cruelly. -</p> - -<p> -"Bo'sun Joe and I are the only ones aboard -with any experience, and if you care to take -a shift with us, we'll be glad." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm in for anything that'll make me -useful," said Dennis. "You think the -wreck is still on the rocks where we can -reach it, then?" -</p> - -<p> -"We're gambling on it," returned Pontifex curtly. -</p> - -<p> -The wind held, and the old whaler blew -down the miles of westering with every stitch -of canvas taut as a drumhead. That afternoon -Tom Dennis got a good straight look -at the new cook—a most disreputable little -man, dirty and slouchy in the extreme. -Gone were the trim mustachios, gone was all -the natty air; but the man was the same who -had spilled a vial of chloroform in the -Chicago room of Tom Dennis. There was no -doubt about it. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis, however, said nothing; later, -when Corny introduced the cook as Frenchy, -he shook hands and was very pleasant, and -if Dumont suspected anything, his suspicions -were set at rest by Dennis' air of careless -non-interest. -</p> - -<p> -Upon the following day the brigantine was -still tearing along with a swirl of water -hissing under her counter. Off to the north the -islands showed their mountain-tips against -the sky, blue and continuous as some distant -mainland. Talking with the mates and -boat-steerers and Kanakas, Tom Dennis was -entertained with many stories of those islands: -how fox- and seal-farmers were scattered -through the group; how small launches -cruised the entire length of the island chain -with impunity; how in time to come there -would be a thriving island population where -now were empty stretches of land or scattered -communities of miserable natives. -</p> - -<p> -And there were other and more ominous -tales: tales of Boguslav and Katmai, of -islands that came and went overnight, of -oil-soaked whalers caught under descending -showers of hot ash and burned to the water's -edge. There were tales of seal-poaching, of -poachers who fought each other, of Yankees -who fought Japs; and these tales verged upon -the personal. Nods and winks were -interchanged when Bo'sun Joe told about "men -he had known", or when black Manuel -Mendez related exploits of which "he had -heard". Tom Dennis gained some fine -material for feature-stories—but it worried -him. He began to realize that these men -among whom he had fallen were, so far as -their natures were concerned, no better than -pirates. -</p> - -<p> -Then, upon the evening of the second day, -came the affair which proved that all restraint -was now loosed. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Darkness was falling, and having no particular -longing for the society of the Missus and -Pontifex, in the stern cabin, Dennis was in -the waist near the try-works, listening while -Corny spun a whaling yarn to the watch. -The yarn was broken into by a sudden -choking cry, followed by an excited call in -Portuguese. The voice was that of Manuel -Mendez who would take the deck from -Mr. Leman in a few moments. -</p> - -<p> -At sound of the cry, Corny whipped out -his knife and was gone like a shadow. Dennis -was the first to follow, darting after the black -boat-steerer toward the windward side of -the deck, whence the voice had come. -</p> - -<p> -An instant later, Dennis had turned the -corner of the try-works. What had happened -he could not tell; but he saw the huge figure -of Manuel Mendez hanging to the mizzen-shrouds, -groaning faintly. Close by, the -insignificant little cook was facing the -glittering knife of Corny—facing it with bare -hands. -</p> - -<p> -Corny, growling savage Cape Verde oaths, -leaped. Swift as light was Frenchy, darting -in and out again, sweeping the knife aside, -striking catlike. Corny staggered back. -</p> - -<p> -At that instant Mr. Leman swept upon -the scene, his grey wisps of hair flying, -his long arms flailing. Frenchy, not hearing -him, was knocked headlong into the galley -and fell with a tremendous crashing of pots -and pans. -</p> - -<p> -"He keel Manuel!" cried out Corny, -retreating from the second mate and putting -up his knife. "He mos' get my eyes—ah, -de poor Manuel!" -</p> - -<p> -The giant figure of the bearded black fell -limply. Dennis retreated, feeling sick; for -Manuel Mendez had been stabbed with his -own knife—after his eyes had been gouged -away. Even for sea-fighting, there was -something horrible about it. -</p> - -<p> -Later, Dennis came upon the steward and -two of the miserable white sailors talking -near the forecastle scuttle. The steward was -describing what had happened. -</p> - -<p> -"Joked 'im, the mate did; chaffed 'im -abaht some woman. Bli' me! Frenchy -was hup and at 'im like this." And the -Cockney held the two first fingers of his -right hand forked and aloft. "Tried to jerk -at 'is knife, 'e did, but Frenchy hup an' -took if first—ugh! 'Orrible it was. And now -the Capting, 'e'll 'ang Frenchy." -</p> - -<p> -Somebody guffawed in the darkness. -</p> - -<p> -"Hang Frenchy? Not him! Frenchy an' -the Skipper have sailed together for years, -they tell me. Hey, mates?" -</p> - -<p> -"You bet," came a response. "Skipper don' -dast hang <i>him</i>, I guess." -</p> - -<p> -To Dennis it was rankly incredible; but -it was true. In the morning Manuel Mendez, -who would smile no more his white-toothed -hungry smile, was sent overside with a chunk -of coal sewed at his feet; and as the body was -committed to the deep, Frenchy leaped to -the rail and sent a bucket of slush over the -canvas. An old whaling custom, this, to -keep the dead man's ghost from following the -ship. But Frenchy remained untouched -for his crime. If there were any inquiry or -punishment, Dennis never heard of it. The -ship's routine pursued its usual course, -Ericksen being advanced to the position of -second mate, Leman to that of first mate. -</p> - -<p> -One man aboard, however, did not forget -the happening; and this was Corny, the -compatriot of the murdered mate. More than -once, Dennis saw Corny's eyes follow Frenchy -about the deck with a black, murderous look. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -These things, however, swiftly were -forgotten in the rumoured vicinity of the wreck; -and since everyone aboard either knew, or -had guessed, the import of this strange cruise, -the ship hummed like a beehive with speculation -and gossip. At noon, with the remarkable -keenness which distinguishes whaling -skippers, Captain Pontifex completed his -observations and then laid out a new course, -stating that it would bring them under the -lee of the island at four bells in the morning -watch, at which time the brigantine was to be -hove to and await daylight. -</p> - -<p> -Tom Dennis was the only one aboard, -except Captain Pontifex and the Missus -who did not sleep by watches. At dinner -that night the skipper broached a bottle of -wine, and sent forward a tot of grog for all -hands; suppressed excitement ruled the -ship, even the gentle Kanakas breaking into -wild native songs until suppressed by the -Skipper's order. After an evening of much -talk, mainly about the various methods -of raising sunken treasure, Dennis turned in. -</p> - -<p> -With the morning came disenchantment. -Dennis had dreamed of gold-mad sailors, of -wild haste, of everything forgotten save the -proximity of sudden riches. But once on -deck he found things very different. The -<i>Pelican</i> was standing across the end of a -barren rocky island; just beyond and ahead -of her was a long scooped-out depression in -the rocky shore, and in the centre of this -depression lay the wreck of the <i>Simpson</i>. -The seamen were attending strictly to their -positions and duties; there was no hilarious -ring of voices, and everything was about as -romantic as a visit to a coaling-station. -</p> - -<p> -But the <i>John Simpson</i> was there—no -doubt about it! -</p> - -<p> -Her stern, apparently wedged in among a -nest of rocks, stood up at a sharp angle, -the deck not quite awash but running down -into the water swiftly. The aftermast stood -a broken stump. At some distance showed -the foremast, likewise broken. Dennis turned -to Pontifex and the Missus who stood beside -him. -</p> - -<p> -"That foremast seems a long distance -away," he said. "Doesn't look natural." -</p> - -<p> -"Broke in two," vouchsafed the Missus -curtly. Pontifex nodded. -</p> - -<p> -"That's it," he stated with conviction. -"Fore part lays in deep water—eight or ten -fathom, probably. Look at her stern. See -the water a-drip? She's well covered at high -tide: just now the tide's out. No wonder she -broke!" -</p> - -<p> -"Looks as if we'd anchor right close to her -fore-hatch," said the Missus. -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen, with a whaleboat and hand-line, -was engaged in taking soundings of the -position. Suddenly a savage exclamation -escaped Pontifex who had been scrutinizing -the visible stern of the wreck through a pair -of binoculars. -</p> - -<p> -"Take charge, Mr. Leman," snapped the -skipper, then lifted his voice. "Corny! -Lower away—four hands will be enough to -row us in. Come on, Mr. Dennis!" -</p> - -<p> -As Corny's crew leaped to the falls of a -forward boat, Pontifex strode forward, his -thin face murderous. Dennis followed him -in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the trouble, Skipper?" -</p> - -<p> -"Come on," responded Pontifex snarlingly. -"I'm not sure yet—but if it's true——" -</p> - -<p> -Seeing that the Skipper was in no mood -for questions, Dennis said nothing further -but followed into the whaleboat. Four -Kanakas gave way at the long oars, and the -boat began to slide landward. Pontifex -studied the wreck through his binoculars a -moment, then handed the glasses to Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -"Look at it—on the mainmast!" -</p> - -<p> -Puzzled, Dennis focused on the stump of -the mainmast. High up, so high as to be -well beyond reach, he discerned a small -object; it looked like a bit of board nailed -to the mast. -</p> - -<p> -"Is that writing on it?" he exclaimed, -lowering the glasses. -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex nodded sourly. "Probably. We'll -soon see." -</p> - -<p> -Boatswain Joe's boat, which had finished -its survey and was heading for the ship, -passed within hail. Pontifex transmitted -word to Mr. Leman by Ericksen, ordering -the <i>Pelican</i> laid as close alongside the -fore-hatch of the wreck as the depth would allow. -Bo'sun Joe reported that the fore-part of -the <i>Simpson</i> lay in nine fathoms, with fair -holding-ground for the anchors, and that the -whaler could crowd alongside her easily. -</p> - -<p> -As their boat drew in, Tom Dennis could -see that the stern of the wreck must indeed -be completely submerged at low tide; this -was attested by the barnacles and weedy -growths covering the rails and decking. But -it was the square bit of plank nailed to the -mast which drew his gaze and that of the -Skipper. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" cried Pontifex, with a furious oath. -"Look at that, Dennis! A painted sign!" -</p> - -<p> -Taking the glasses, Dennis could indeed -make out that the board appeared to bear -words or characters—and to his eye they were -Japanese. At this query, the skipper swore -again. -</p> - -<p> -"Aye, the yellow scum! They swarm -around the islands, raiding fox-farms and -poaching or trading according as they dare. -One of their boats happened along here, blast -the luck, and saw the wreck; posted a sign to -warn off their own countrymen, and went -for help. They came at high water and didn't -wait for ebb tide. Notice where that sign is, -up there? Way enough, Corny; we don't -want to board her." -</p> - -<p> -The boat swung around on idle oars, -twenty feet from the rocks that held the stern -of the <i>Simpson</i>. Dennis scrutinized the board -carefully, then handed the glasses to Pontifex. -</p> - -<p> -"It's tough luck, Skipper," he said quietly. -"To think that she lay here undiscovered for -over two years, then was found only a week -or so before we came!" -</p> - -<p> -"A week?" Pontifex stared at him with -flaming eyes. "How d'ye know that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Focus up on those nail-heads in that -board. They're rusty, of course, but the -rust hasn't gone into the wood around -them—see? And the black paint on the board -looks pretty glossy when the sunlight catches -it right." -</p> - -<p> -"Right you are!" commented the Skipper -with a growl. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you going to do about it?" -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Do</i> about it!" Pontifex looked venomous. -"Fight, by the lord Harry! This is salvage. -Whoever can hold hardest, gets. Let me get -the old brig anchored in here, and I'd like to -see any dirty yellow poachers pry my fingers -loose!" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis remembered the big gun-rack in -the cabin, and said no more. Rifles can be -used for other purposes than killing seals and -bears. -</p> - -<p> -"We'll be all snug by breakfast-time," -added Pontifex, watching the <i>Pelican</i> come -slowly in as her top canvas fluttered down. -"Then we'll set to work <i>pronto</i>. We don't -want a gale to catch us here, either. More -likely to catch fog, anyway." -</p> - -<p> -And the skipper made good his words. -Before seven bells were struck at 7.20 that -morning* the <i>Pelican</i> was berthed alongside -the fore half of the <i>Simpson</i> and all was made -snug below and aloft. Captain Pontifex called -all hands and made an address. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="footnote"> -* Usually struck at this time so the relieving watch may -breakfast first. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"The Japs have been here, and they'll be -back," he said curtly. "There's salvage -money ahead of everybody, men, so we're -going to pitch in and work day and night, -watch and watch. The day watches will -devote themselves to getting the stuff aboard, -because a diver can't remain down very long -in this water: all hands will have a chance at -going down. The night watches will stow -the stuff below and make a clear deck before -morning. -</p> - -<p> -"While we're lying here, we'll redistribute -the watches. Mr. Leman and Mr. Ericksen -will take the port watch, I'll take the -starboard watch with Mr. Dennis and Corny. -One man from each watch will be set ashore—that -high point of rock makes a better lookout -perch than the crosstrees—to watch for the -approach of any craft whatever. And mark -this, men! If you don't report back to the -beach when the watches are changed, I'll -come ashore and hunt you down with a shotgun! -That's all. The starboard watch will -keep the deck." -</p> - -<p> -Did the port watch go below? Not yet! -Breakfast was a formality, a hurriedly bolted -affair; ten minutes later one of the four white -seamen was set ashore as lookout, and the -Skipper fell to work. -</p> - -<p> -"You'll mind the pumps my watch, my -dear," said Pontifex to the Missus. "When -I'm down, I'll trust nobody else to watch my -air supply. Do you want to go down, Mr. Dennis?" -</p> - -<p> -"You bet," and Dennis laughed. "I'd -like nothing better!" -</p> - -<p> -A complete double set of diving apparatus -was already awaiting them. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XI -<br /><br /> -THE ENEMY COMES -</h3> - -<p> -The water was cold—cold and clear and -biting as ice. To Dennis, inside the rubber -suit, it seemed as though he had been -plunged bodily into liquid ice. Through -the thick glass of the helmet he could see -the green translucence all around him, clear -and empty and shimmering with the sunlight -from above. For himself, as for the -other green hands at the work, he knew -that a long submersion would be impossible. -</p> - -<p> -Darker grew the water underfoot as the -light from above was diffused to the greater -depths. Dennis had gone down from the -quarter-deck of the <i>Pelican</i>; this, according -to the soundings, would bring him to the -sea-floor at the after end of the front half -of the wreck. He could thus see whether -the contents of the <i>Simpson's</i> main-hold, -aft of which she had broken in two, lay -piled upon the sea-floor between the two -sections of the wreck. If so, the work of -salvage would be greatly hastened. Pontifex, -in the meantime, was exploring the bows -and fore hatch of the wreck. -</p> - -<p> -Down went Tom Dennis into the depths, -in a seemingly interminable descent. -Suddenly a huge shadowy black mass seemed -rushing at him from below, and swift terror -sent his heart throbbing; for he felt very -helpless. Then he remembered—the wreck, -of course! The regular "click-click" of the -pumps, sounding down through his air-valves, -reassured and heartened him. An -instant later he stood upon the bottom. -</p> - -<p> -He wondered that there was very little -growth or algae to obstruct him, until -he realized that what little algae he could -see were bending far over in the grip of -a fairly strong sub-surface current, which, -combined with the intense coldness of the -water, had a discouraging effect upon marine -growths. The bottom was not smooth, -however, being extremely rocky and uneven. -</p> - -<p> -The <i>Simpson</i> had apparently broken just -abaft the engine-room, and the fore half -lay with her sloping deck toward the shore. -Dennis had come to the bottom close to -her keel, and he was no long time in -discovering that spilled over the sea bottom -lay almost enough cargo to fill up the <i>Pelican</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Having brought a line ready prepared, -Dennis got the bight around a packing-case -plastered with barnacles. As he was -drawing it taut, came a jerk upon his -lifeline—the signal that his agreed "stint" was -up. Having no wish to be crippled or laid -on the sick list, Dennis responded, and at -once was hauled off the bottom. -</p> - -<p> -His ascent was very slow, and of necessity; -for a quick jerk up from the depths would -ruin any man alive. The progression had -to be gradual and halting. -</p> - -<p> -On the way up, it occurred to him for -the first time that he was literally in the -hands of his enemies! -</p> - -<p> -The moment he was in the morning sunlight -again, Tom Dennis forgot his uneasiness -and laughed at the terror which had seized -upon him in the depths. It was absurd. -</p> - -<p> -He did not go down again that morning, -however. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Dennis was nearly clear of his diving-suit -before the Skipper's copper helmet -broke the water amidships. Pontifex reported -that the bow plates of the wreck were torn -out, and he had lined two cases; these -were brought in, together with that which -Dennis had secured, and were at once -smashed open. The two cases from the fore -hold proved to contain ammunition; that -from the main hold, two excellently packed -machine-guns. -</p> - -<p> -This was enough for Pontifex, who at -once conjectured that the main and after -holds of the <i>Simpson</i> had contained the -bulk of the machine-guns, the most valuable -part of her cargo. Corny at once broke out -a kedge, lowered it to the stern of his boat -and hung it there by a stop to the ring, -then started off to the stern of the <i>Simpson</i>. -Once laid among the rocks in the shallower -water there, the crew tramped around the -capstan while Bo's'n Joe lifted "Windy -weather! Stormy weather!" into a -resounding chorus. -</p> - -<p> -At last it was done. The <i>Pelican</i>, all -reconnaissance over, lay snugly ensconced -between the two sections of the <i>John Simpson</i>. -The off watch went below, curiosity appeased -by the barnacled unromantic packing-cases; -and Captain Pontifex fell to hard work, -going down again almost at once. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis took charge of the after pumps, -while the Missus herself took the wheel of -those in the waist. The Kanakas, only -prevented from diving naked by the depth and -the icy coldness of the water, were eager -to try the diving-suits. As each man went -down in turn, he carried four lines, making -them fast to as many cases. Thus, despite -the brief diving spells, in no long time -the cases began to come aboard as fast as -they could be handled. -</p> - -<p> -When the watch knocked off at eight -bells, noon, Dennis was amazed by the -number of cases which had come aboard. -He was dead tired, also; the constant strain -of watching the pump gauges and keeping -the air at exactly the right pressure was -no light one, and at odd moments he had -tailed on to the lines with the other men. -</p> - -<p> -"I see you're no greenhorn," commented -Pontifex at dinner, with a sharp glance at -the hands of Dennis. "Where'd you learn -to keep your thumb clear while hauling -a line?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I've knocked around ships a little," -Dennis laughed. "Are you going to stay in -this position?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. If the Japs come, we're fixed to -keep 'em off both ends of the wreck. Well, -think you can go down again this afternoon?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis nodded. "Sure! I'm supposed -to have a bad heart, but I haven't noticed -it." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -As it chanced, however, he did not go -down again that day, for during Mr. Leman's -watch the after airhose developed a leak -which had to be fixed, and the second -apparatus was consequently out of business until -the following morning. Pontifex, who took -the first dog-watch, kept the one suit hard -at work, and all aboard were well -satisfied with results. -</p> - -<p> -That night, by the light of a huge flare set -atop the try-works, the cargo was stowed. -Shears had to be run up over the hatchways -to handle the heavy cases, and the deck -was not washed down until just before the -morning watch. When Dennis came on -deck at 4 a.m. the ship was incased in -so heavy a fog that the lookout was -withdrawn from the island. -</p> - -<p> -"Dis fog, maybe she keep up a week," -grumbled Corny, overhauling the diving -lines. "If de Jap sheep come, den look -out!" -</p> - -<p> -The stern of the wreck, which had been -hidden at high tide, was again being -uncovered. So thick was the fog that Dennis -doubted the possibility of diving, but his -doubts were soon set at rest. Corny and -the skipper, each carrying lines, made a -descent, and Corny returned with word that -it was a "cinch". -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex was still down, and Dennis was -preparing to get into the suit as Corny -vacated it, when of a sudden the voice of -the Missus bit out from the waist. -</p> - -<p> -"Keep quiet, all hands! Listen!" -</p> - -<p> -Astonished, Dennis obeyed. Corny, beside -him, stood with hand cupped to ear, slowly -shaking his head. Nothing was to be heard, -The fog was impenetrable. -</p> - -<p> -"What did she hear?" murmured Dennis. -The Cape Verde man shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -"No telling. But nobody don't fool -<i>her</i>—ah! Listen, queek!" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis heard it then—an indistinct and -muffled vibration, too slight to be called -a noise, which was felt rather than heard. -It came again and again, an irregular sound. -</p> - -<p> -"It's de sail," said Corny. "De sail -flap-flap in de wind—and dere's somet'ing -else goin', too——" -</p> - -<p> -"A boat's engine!" exclaimed Dennis softly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yeou, Corny!" The Missus gave swift -command aft. "Call all hands aft an' tell -Mr. Leman to fetch the rifles. Lively yeou!" -</p> - -<p> -Meantime, she was bringing Pontifex -aboard, manifestly against his will, as the -signal-line testified. Dennis kicked out of -the rubber suit, getting clear just as Bo's'n -Joe came up the companion way. A moment -later both Leman and Corny appeared, -each with an armload of rifles interspersed -with shot-guns. -</p> - -<p> -"Strike me blind!" exclaimed Ericksen, -pausing beside Dennis, and listening intently. -"If it ain't them Japs—a schooner, likely, -beatin' up for the island under power, and -all hands too lazy to take in sail! Aye, -that's them." -</p> - -<p> -"But it may be someone else," said -Dennis. "A fisherman, perhaps." -</p> - -<p> -Bo's'n Joe gave him a look of pitying -scorn from his uptwisted eye. "You wait -an' see!" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Rifles were served out to all aboard, -Dennis among the rest, and by the time -Captain Pontifex was up and out of his -suit, the ship was ready for defence. Pontifex -heard the news without comment; a rifle -under his arm, he dispatched Corny to the -crosstrees to keep watch from there, and -ordered Mr. Leman to stand by with a -megaphone. -</p> - -<p> -"Growin' closer, sir," volunteered Ericksen. -"Takin' soundings, she is." -</p> - -<p> -The skipper nodded. The fog-muffled -thrum of an engine was now distinctly -perceptible, while the slatting of sails told -that the approaching craft was not far -off. The fog was thick and steady without -a breath of wind to thin it out. -</p> - -<p> -"All right, Mr. Leman," said Pontifex -suddenly. "Let 'em have it." -</p> - -<p> -Instantly the stentorian tones of Mr. Leman, -intensified a thousandfold by the -megaphone, blared out upon the fog. -</p> - -<p> -"Stand off or ye'll run us down, ye lubbers! -Keep away!" -</p> - -<p> -From the mist came a shrill thin yell -of surprise, followed by an excited jabbering -of many tongues. Clearly the visitors were of -foreign origin. Then a shrill voice lifted -in English amid sudden silence as the -thrumming motor ceased its noise. -</p> - -<p> -"'Ello! Oo are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, Bo's'n Joe," said the skipper -calmly. "She'll be in the centre of the -fairway, most likely—about two points abaft -our beam." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen lifted to his shoulder the shotgun -with which he had armed himself, and -two smashing reports blasted into the fog -as he fired both barrels. A shrill clamour -of voices made answer, followed by instantaneous -and blanket-like silence. Then came -a single sullen plunge, as of some heavy -object striking the water. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" remarked Pontifex, staring into -into the fog as though he could see through -it. "Very good, Bo's'n—you reached 'em. -They've anchored, and they'll lie doggo -until the fog lifts. They know we'll waste -no bullets if we can't see them." -</p> - -<p> -"Reached them?" repeated Dennis. "You -don't mean that Ericksen tried to hit them?" -</p> - -<p> -Bo's'n Joe guffawed, and Pontifex gave -Dennis a peculiar smiling look—a very -diabolical look. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear Mr. Dennis, that's exactly -what he did. And some yellow beggar -caught the pellets in his hide—in other -words, got the hint! They'll try no games -until they can see what they're up against." -</p> - -<p> -"But where are they?" demanded Dennis, -giving up any expostulation. -</p> - -<p> -"About six fathoms away, I should say—not -more than fifty feet, certainly." The -skipper glanced at Mr. Leman, who nodded -confirmation. "They might be less than -that, and we couldn't see them, nor they -us. After the fog lifts—well, then there'll -be fun!" -</p> - -<p> -"They'll fight?" -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex caressed his moustache and smiled -softly. -</p> - -<p> -"More or less—they'll try some deviltry -on us first. Lay out some harpoons and -shoulder-guns, Mr. Leman; we'll have a -few tonite bombs ready. Corny, bring -in those cases that I lined before I came -up. We'll get back to work directly." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis saw no good in making protests. -There was no law here save that of the -strongest, and Pontifex was dead right in -carrying the fight to the enemy, aggression -being nine points of fighting law. Besides, -Pontifex was manifestly enjoying the prospect, -and just at present Dennis was playing -a waiting game and had no desire to bring -about any crisis. -</p> - -<p> -There being no time for more workman-like -methods, an anvil and a cold-chisel -were brought aft, with half a dozen harpoons, -and two of the hands were set to work cutting -through the iron harpoon hafts, just behind -the spear-points. Now, modern whaling -is carried out almost exactly as the New -Bedford whalers did it a century ago, except -for a small brass cylinder fastened to the -haft of the harpoon. In this cylinder is -carried a tonite bomb. Whether the harpoon -be flung by hand or be fired from a -shoulder-gun, it carries the bomb into the -whale—and that ends the whale. -</p> - -<p> -The points off the six harpoons, Mr. Leman -made ready a couple of shoulder-guns -and loaded the cylinders of the harpoons -with bombs. As he observed, they might -or they might not do much damage, but -they would make a big noise when they -hit; and with this intent the weapons -were laid aside to be used in case of any -aggressiveness on the part of the enemy. -For the present, at least, the Japs seemed -to be maintaining a careful silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Mr. Dennis," said Pontifex at -length, "I'm going to resume my interrupted -job; I guess I can lay a few more -lines before quitting. Who's going down -on your lines?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, I will—if you think it's safe," -returned Dennis. "You're not going to -knock off work, then?" -</p> - -<p> -"On account of that yellow scum? I -should say not!" exclaimed Pontifex. -"Mr. Leman will do any fighting that's necessary -while I'm down; and the Missus will see -to it that nothing fouls our lines. But -send someone else if you don't like the -idea." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, it suits me," answered Dennis, -knocking out his pipe. "I dare say there's -no great risk, but it would feel sweet if -the ship left us prowling on the bottom, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -Pontifex grunted and went forward, being -swallowed up in the fog that cloaked everything. -</p> - -<p> -Having learned from Corny that the bottom -was pretty dark, but by no means unsuited -to working, Dennis called the steward. -Although the little Cockney was a viperous -criminal ashore, he was a faithful soul at -sea, and Dennis had learned that he -entertained a strong feeling of responsibility -while watching the pumps. -</p> - -<p> -"Hi, steward!" he called. "Come and -give me a hand with this suit—and bring -a couple of Kanakas to run these pumps, -too. Corny's busy with the lines." -</p> - -<p> -"Comin' sir," said the steward's voice, -and the Cockney appeared a moment -later. -</p> - -<p> -Meantime, in the waist, Captain Pontifex -was engaged in talk with the cook, -while the Missus listened. -</p> - -<p> -"Now's the time, Dumont," said Pontifex, -fondling his curled mustache. "Work -right along aft until you get on his line, -savvy?" -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Mais oui</i>!" returned Frenchy, his black -eyes glittering. "But me, I like not this -<i>diable</i> of a fog! It will be dark under the -water." -</p> - -<p> -"So much the better." And Pontifex -smiled his cruel smile. "So much the better! -He thinks I'm going down. Let the steward -attend to his pumps—and we'll blame the -steward for what happens. In this murky -water he'll not see you coming down -there—you can get on top of him and cut his -lines and be off in a shot. Are you ready or -not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes!" exclaimed Frenchy, reaching for -the diving-suit. -</p> - -<p> -"And watch out for the tide," cautioned -the skipper. "It's ebbing strong and you -might lose your bearings if you don't look -sharp." -</p> - -<p> -Frenchy grinned, and unstrapped his -sheath-knife. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XII -<br /><br /> -IN THE DEPTHS -</h3> - -<p> -As the steward helped pull up the rubber -dress about the body of Dennis, he spoke -in a low voice. -</p> - -<p> -"Beg pardon, sir, but hit looks like you -'ad lost your knife." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis glanced down at the deck where -his paraphernalia lay. The belt and sheath -were there; but the large knife, a regular part -of every diver's equipment, was missing. -</p> - -<p> -"That's queer!" he said slowly. "Hm! -Probably Corny lost the knife and didn't -notice it. Better get me one from the galley, -steward: it'll take a carving knife to fit that -big sheath." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir." The steward slipped off into -the mist. The two Kanakas stood at the -pump-wheels, shivering in the mist and talking -together. -</p> - -<p> -A moment later the steward reappeared, -carrying a long, keenly edged carving knife. -He tried it in the sheath, and it fitted well -enough. -</p> - -<p> -"Werry good, sir. All set!" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis liked the little Cockney—he liked -the man's thorough responsibility in his -job of watching the pumps. But now, as -he helped adjust the back and breast-pieces, -and buckled the belt about his waist, he -felt once more that in this work he was putting -himself in the power of his enemies. -</p> - -<p> -He forced a laugh at the idea; yet it took a -supreme effort to conquer his imagination. -They did not want to kill him, of course—but -if they did, how easy in this fog! But -that was all nonsense. There was no question -of murdering. The very notion was folly! -</p> - -<p> -Dennis helped the steward adjust the big -copper helmet, and the Cockney screwed it -fast into the neck-plate. A moment later, -Dennis was climbing over the rail. The usual -diver's shot-line would carry him straight -down, and besides this, a ladder had been -slung over the stern to assist in the ascent. -The steward gave him the four lines, attached -to the rail at intervals which would prevent -their fouling after being attached to the -cases, and Dennis slipped down into the -depths. -</p> - -<p> -As always, the steady and regular clicking -of the pumps sounded through his air -valves with reassuring effect. Captain -Pontifex had not provided very up-to-date -outfits, with telephones and electric lights and -other frills—for this reason no diving work -could be done at night. The suits were good -and dependable, however, lacking only gloves -to make them well adapted to this icy water. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis resolutely dismissed all thoughts -of possible danger, and concentrated his -attention upon the work in hand. -</p> - -<p> -As Corny had reported, the water down -below was clear enough for work, but the -lack of filtering sunlight made it gloomy, -grey, and obscure in details. When at last -Dennis felt his feet touch the bottom, he -was forced to stand for a moment and adjust -his eyesight to the altered conditions. -Presently he was enabled to descry objects, and -he moved toward the scattered and far-strewn -heaps of boxes which lay between the two -sections of the <i>John Simpson</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis could see nothing of Pontifex -at work below, but in the present obscurity -that was not strange. Besides, the divers, -from waist and stern of the <i>Pelican</i>, kept as -far apart as possible for fear of the lines -fouling. -</p> - -<p> -Now, as he advanced, Dennis thought -that he perceived a dimly moving shape off -to his left to seaward; but it vanished -almost instantly. It might have been some -fish, he concluded, or a bunch of drifting -algae. It was now hard upon noon, and the -tide was fast on the ebb. -</p> - -<p> -With the strange buoyancy which comes -to the diver on the bottom, Dennis took -leaps, one after the other, with a boyish -delight. He cleared no ground this way, -however, and soon returned to the slow -progress afoot; there was too much danger of -losing his balance and burying his helmet in -the ooze as he came down. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Presently he came to an upright crowbar -in a heap of boxes, which Corny had been -using to pry loose each case in order to pass -the bight of a line around it. Dennis found -two loose boxes and made fast two of his -lines; but without tying himself to the pile, -he could not use the crowbar—his own -buoyancy was too great. So, to save time, -he passed on to some scattered cases -ahead. -</p> - -<p> -At this juncture, his remaining two lines -fouled about his dragging air hose. When -at length he got them extricated and clear, -he had great difficulty in maintaining his -balance against the set of the tide. But -at length he got the first line fast to a box, -and with the second line he secured another. -</p> - -<p> -As he straightened up and grasped his -safety-line to signal the steward that he was -ready to ascend, he observed a great shadowy -mass in the water ahead. Accustomed to the -gloom by this time, he perceived that the -mass was the after-end of the <i>John Simpson</i>, -reaching up through the water on a sharp -incline. -</p> - -<p> -He tugged at his line. To his amazement -he felt no resistance whatever. He tugged -harder, more sharply—and the line coiled -snakily toward him. At the same instant -he heard a sharp click behind his ear; the -safety valve in his helmet had snapped shut. -His air-tight hose and his line had been -parted! -</p> - -<p> -In this supreme moment, when he faced -inescapable death, Tom Dennis felt none -of his previous fear. His brain worked like a -clock. -</p> - -<p> -He knew that either from the stern above, -or from the water beneath he had been cut -off and left to die. He had been too -slow—he had failed to heed his inward premonitions. -And the sheer horror of it was that he would -not die for a comparatively long time. There -was sufficient air in his helmet and in the -bellying folds of his rubber suit to sustain -life for several minutes! -</p> - -<p> -What good would this do him? None! -What good would it do him to reach the line -he had made fast to boxes? None. This was -no accident. The ends of his lines told him -that they had been cut clean, severed. -Those above would disregard any possible -signals, would let him perish miserably. -He could depend upon no one. He was -trapped, helpless, murdered! -</p> - -<p> -Then suddenly, Dennis perceived -something in the water behind him. He -turned. -</p> - -<p> -Not a dozen feet distant, another diver -stood there, helmet turned toward him -watching. Through the thick glass Dennis -glimpsed keen dark eyes, a gleam of white -teeth; this was not Pontifex at all. -Recognition came to him, and a thin cry escaped his -lips—Dumont! Here was the murderer! -</p> - -<p> -Dennis gripped his knife, half-minded -to retaliate upon this assassin who had cut -his lines; for in the man's hand he dimly -caught the glitter of steel. But, as Dennis -tensed himself for the leap, he checked -the movement—another dim figure had -appeared! -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Amazement held Dennis spellbound, -incredulous. There had been but two diving-suits -aboard the <i>Pelican</i>; of this he was quite -certain. Yet here upon the sea floor stood -three divers! -</p> - -<p> -Dumont—for the second figure was -manifestly that of the cook—stood staring at -Dennis as though inviting any hostile movement. -But the third figure suddenly rose in -the water with a great leap—rose and threw -itself forward, and went caroming down upon -Frenchy, Then the answer came to Dennis—a -diver from the Jap boat! Under shelter -of the fog, knowing themselves unseen, the -little brown men had gone to work! -</p> - -<p> -And as he realized this, Dennis saw the -figures of the two other divers, plunging -together upon the bottom, abruptly obscured -from his sight by a red mist uprising through -the water. With horrified comprehension, -Dennis realized that the murderer, Dumont, -had been taken unawares, had been caught in -his own trap—had cut the lines of one man -only to have an unseen enemy spring upon -him and stab him to death! -</p> - -<p> -Dennis turned, and with a wild leap left -the red-smeared scene behind. -</p> - -<p> -The whole affair, from the moment he -had heard his helmet valve click, had not -taken twenty seconds, Already there had -sprung into Dennis's brain the comprehension -that he had but one bare slim hope -of salvation—almost subconsciously he was -aware of it, and almost upon intuition he -leaped upward through the water. He leaped -not toward the <i>Pelican</i>, where he knew well -that no help awaited him, but away from her; -he leaped toward the shattered and sundered -afterpart of the <i>John Simpson</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Speed now meant life. He could not -reach the shore in time, already—was it -fact or imagination?—he fancied that his -breathing was getting more difficult, the -air in his lungs hot and vitiated. There -came to him the horrible thought of a diver -leaping about the bottom of the sea, leaping -in huge bounds of twenty feet upward, -leaping like a mad crazed animal until the -air in his suit gave out and he dropped -head-foremost in the ooze. It was a frantic thought. -Upon the heels of it something tugged at -the trailing lifeline and jerked Dennis down -head first. -</p> - -<p> -Knife in hand, he recovered his balance, -thinking that the Jap diver had pursued him. -But the trailing end of his line had caught in -some obstruction—nothing more. With a -sobbing breath of relief, Dennis slashed -away the line and bore onward with a high -leap. -</p> - -<p> -That bound gained the crushed decking of -the <i>John Simpson</i>. The afterpart of the -wreck lay upon a sharply inclined plane, its -broken forward end upon the bottom, the -stern high in its nest of rocks. Up that sharp -steep slope crawled Tom Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -To maintain his balance and to keep any -foothold upon the slimy decking was difficult. -He clung to the rail with his left hand, slowly -working himself upward. He dared try no -leaping here, lest like a rubber ball he fly -over the rail with the seaward current and -drop; and if a diver drops thirty feet he is -apt to be crushed all at once into his helmet -by the pressure—and it would not be nice. -</p> - -<p> -"Can't take chances!" thought Dennis, -then laughed inwardly at the notion. Take -chances! Why, he was basing his entire -hope of salvation upon chances of which -he was totally uncertain! It had swiftly -come to him that by gaining the after end -of the wreck, by crawling up her sloping -deck to the stern, he would be out of the -water. But would he? How far had the tide -ebbed? He did not know. He could not -remember what time the tide had -turned—whether the wreck would be now uncovered -or not. -</p> - -<p> -Then there was the fog; another chance. -If the fog had only slightly lessened, so -those aboard the <i>Pelican</i> could see stern of -the wreck, they would finish their work -with rifles should Dennis emerge. Thus -there was a double chance against him. -Should he find himself out of water at the -stern of the wreck, his only hope then would -be that the fog still held thick as ever. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -His ears were roaring now, and paining -with an ache that thrummed at each pulse-beat. -The air was steadily growing worse; -Dennis paused to press more air up from his -billowing suit, and gained momentary -relief. -</p> - -<p> -It occurred to him that he still had one -friend aboard the <i>Pelican</i>—the steward. -His knife had been removed purposely; -the steward had noticed its absence; therefore, -the little Cockney was not in on the -murder-scheme. Dennis laughed slightly and turned -again to his task of climbing. -</p> - -<p> -Dragging himself up that slimy steep -decking was hard work, and he cursed the -tremendous weights that held him down; -the buoyancy seemed gone out of him with -his weariness. Then, suddenly, he came to a -dead halt, straining his eyes to look upward -and ahead, and keen despair went through -him like a knife. -</p> - -<p> -He had gained the after hatchway which -was uncovered and yawned in a black hole to -his right. Directly in front of him was the -overhang of the poop—an eight-foot wall -which, owing to the position of the wreck, -deserved its name so far as Dennis was -concerned. It overhung him; in order to go -up the ladder in front of him, Dennis would -have to do it hand over hand, or not at all! -</p> - -<p> -For a moment he paused. Pains had seized -and were racking him. His throat and lungs -felt afire. He knew that he could not last -much longer, and with a frightful effort he -flung himself forward; the knife, his sole -means of escape from the diving-suit, he -thrust down into the sheath of his belt, -trusting that it would remain there. -</p> - -<p> -Gripping the stairs of the ladder, Dennis -hauled himself up. He dared spare nothing of -energy or effort now; he was staking all upon -one effort. If he failed to reach the poop he -was gone. -</p> - -<p> -Strangling, gasping spasmodically for the -air that burned out his lungs, he came at -last to the end of the ladder. He got his head -about it; he could see the poop-deck there -before him, and he writhed desperately -over the edge of the ladder. With all his -lightness in the water, he nearly failed at -that moment. For one sickening instant -he felt himself going backward and -down—then, heaving upward convulsively, he -somehow made it safely. For a moment he lay -weak and helpless. -</p> - -<p> -A spasm of strangulation forced him on. -He groped behind him for his knife, found -it, and pressed forward. The water was -lighter now—he was near the top. How -near? Unless the stern were clear of the -water, he would be lost. There was blood -in his throat; his nose and ears were bleeding. -To his terror, he lost his balance and plunged -against the rail, nearly going over. He -gripped the rail and hauled himself onward. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -A frightful madness seized him, a convulsive -gasping for relief, and he was near to ripping -asunder his diving-suit. His frantic efforts -had exhausted what little oxygen remained; -he could press up no more good air from his -suit. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he -found that some horrible, deadly, agonizing -weight was pressing him down. He could see -only the grey dimness around him; red -specks were dancing before his eyes; that -awful weight was oppressing him, and what -caused it, he did not know, unless it were -death. He came up against the rounded bulge -of the stern-rail. It was the end. He could -go no farther. -</p> - -<p> -"That ends it!" he thought despairingly. -"The tide hasn't ebbed enough." -</p> - -<p> -He fell forward, unable to lift the weight -of that copper helmet, for the oppression -was crushing him down. He could not make -out what that frightful weight could be, nor -did he care. He reached up with his knife, -as he lay there, and determined to end things -swiftly. He refused to be longer tortured. -</p> - -<p> -With a swift, reckless motion he ripped -asunder the breast of his diving-suit. -</p> - -<p> -To his amazement, nothing happened. -No water entered. Instead, came a breath -of cold sweet air that literally brought life -into his lungs! -</p> - -<p> -Two minutes later he was sitting up, -sobbing the good clean air into his body! -He saw then what had happened—what that -awful weight had been! It had been only the -weight of his own body and equipment. -Unknown to himself, he had emerged from -the water into the dense thickness of the fog. -</p> - -<p> -He had won clear! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIII -<br /><br /> -PONTIFEX PLANS REVENGE -</h3> - -<p> -"Strike me blind," observed Bo's'n Joe -gloomily, "if they ain't gone an' got poor -Frenchy!" -</p> - -<p> -No one else spoke for a bit. Mr. Leman -spat over the rail and stared at the fog in -the direction of the unseen Japanese ship. -The Missus had gone to her cabin when the -body was hauled aboard. Captain Pontifex -stood looking down at the form, still incased -in its diving-suit; and his pallid cavernous -features were venomous with rage. -</p> - -<p> -"I'd sooner have lost anyone aboard -rather than Dumont—except the Missus," -he said softly. "And to think they must -have got him just after he got Dennis." -</p> - -<p> -"Aye," said Bo's'n Joe. -</p> - -<p> -It was very evident how Frenchy had come -by his fate. Transfixing his body, fastened -so firmly within him that no easy pull -would remove it, was a long-bladed knife -with shark-skin handle—palpably a Japanese -knife. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," the Skipper turned away, "see -that he's sewed up proper, Mr. Leman, and -we'll bury him shipshape. Attend to -repairing that dress, too." -</p> - -<p> -When the skipper had disappeared aft, -Bo's'n Joe looked at Mr. Leman. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the Skipper got on his mind? -He ain't goin' to stand by and see Frenchy -killed without doin' anything?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Leman reflectively tugged his whiskers, -and squinted down his broken nose. -</p> - -<p> -"Not him, Bo's'n—not him! 'Ready to -work to-morrow', says he. Just wait till -to-night, Bo's'n! If something don't happen -to them Japs, I miss my guess. Leave it to -him and the Missus! If this blasted fog don't -break, he'll show 'em a thing or two." -</p> - -<p> -The <i>Pelican</i> swung idly to her anchors -all that afternoon. -</p> - -<p> -It was easy for those aboard her to deduce -exactly how Dumont had come to his end. -The knife told the whole story. The flurry -at the end of the lines, Dumont's frantic -signal to be hoisted, all explained perfectly -that he had encountered a diver from the -enemy ship. The Japs had diving apparatus, -of course. -</p> - -<p> -Sullen resentment and fury filled the -<i>Pelican</i>, from skipper to meekest Kanaka. -All aboard had been wildly excited over -salvage and treasure; because of this fact, -Pontifex had a solidly united crew behind him -in whatever he might attempt. Frenchy had -not been particularly loved, but his murder -showed that the enemy meant business—and -in defence of their treasure-trove the crew -of the <i>Pelican</i> were only too anxious to -fight. -</p> - -<p> -As the afternoon wore on, the fog thickened -rather than lessened. At the end of the first -dog-watch all hands were called and Frenchy -was committed to the deep, with the usual -bucket of slush. -</p> - -<p> -Someone observed that there was no chance -of laying the ghost of Dennis in this customary -fashion; within five minutes the remark had -gone through the brig. No one cared particularly -how Dennis had perished, but everyone -was superstitious in the extreme. Mr. Leman -allowed an anxious frown to disturb his flat -countenance, and even the skipper, upon -hearing the rumour, appeared disturbed. -</p> - -<p> -"Not that I give two hoots for any -ghost," he confided to the Missus, "but it -makes a bad spirit aboard ship. Nonsense! -A ghost doesn't come back, anyway." -</p> - -<p> -"I've heard 'baout that happening," said -the Missus gloomily but firmly. "And what -folks believe in is apt to come true. You -mark my words!" -</p> - -<p> -"Then" and the skipper brightened—"they -say that a death aboard ship always brings -wind—so we'd better get busy with those -Japs before the fog lifts!" -</p> - -<p> -This latter superstition was equally well -known aboard, and predictions were that -before morning the fog would be gone. Within -another hour, however, everybody aboard was -too busy to bother further with superstitions. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -When darkness began to fall, with no sign -of activity from Captain Pontifex, open -grumbling began to spread along the deck, -It was silenced by the Skipper in person, -who appeared and ordered two of the -whaleboats lowered. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Leman," he commanded quietly, -the entire crew listening tensely, "you'll -take command of one boat. Lay aboard -her six of those oil-bags from the store-room. -Muffle the oars. Take a compass and mind -your bearings. Two of you men lay aft, here." -</p> - -<p> -Two of the white hands hastened aft and -followed the Skipper down the companion way. -In five minutes they reappeared, struggling -beneath the weight of the pride of the whaling -fleet—-the green-striped tea-jar. It was minus -the big scarlet geranium plant, and should -have been light; but it seemed most -unaccountably heavy. -</p> - -<p> -"Easy, there!" snapped the Skipper. -</p> - -<p> -"Corny, reeve a rope through that block -at the mains'l yard and sling the jar into -the boat—not Mr. Leman's boat, but mine. -Bo's'n, lay down there and place her in the -bow." -</p> - -<p> -Ericksen seemed not to relish his task -in the least, but he obeyed. In ten minutes -the jar was safely stowed in the other -whaleboat; from this boat all whaling gear was -now removed, six oars alone being left. -</p> - -<p> -"In with you, Corny," commanded the -Skipper. "You and Ericksen with four -Kanakas will row me out. Mr. Leman, -precede us very slowly; when you sight that -Jap, lay that oil on the water and then stand -back to pick us up." -</p> - -<p> -He turned to salute the Missus with a chaste -kiss upon the cheek. -</p> - -<p> -"Good-bye, my dear! You insist upon -taking the third boat?" -</p> - -<p> -"I reckon I can do as well as yeou," -returned the Missus impassively. "Good luck!" -</p> - -<p> -"Same to you," answered the Skipper. -</p> - -<p> -Six men were at the oars in Mr. Leman's -boat, four more in that of the skipper. -Mrs. Pontifex ordered the forward boat down, and -the five remaining men into her. To them she -handed rifles, then turned to the trembling -steward. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm leavin' yeou to tend ship," she stated -firmly. "There's a shot-gun beside the helm; -if anybody else boards, yeou let fly! No -telling but some o' those Japs might ha' -worked araound by the shore—but we'll -give 'em something else to think abaout." -</p> - -<p> -With that, she descended into her boat, -compass in hand, ordered her rowers to give -way, and vanished into the darkness of the -fog—not following the Skipper, but departing at -a tangent from his course. -</p> - -<p> -The steward hastened to the quarter-deck, -secured the shot-gun, and perched upon the -rail. -</p> - -<p> -The Cockney was by no means lacking in -acuteness. He had been cleaning up a muss -in the stern cabin for the last half-hour; -he knew that this muss was the debris from -several ammunition packets, broken from -the packing-case of ammunition that had -been hauled in upon the morning previous. -He knew that the scarlet geranium had been -transplanted into a keg. He knew that this -keg had previously been full of gunpowder; -he knew likewise that the skipper had -laboriously fashioned a fuse—and that the tide -was now going out. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -So as he perched upon the starboard taffrail -and scrutinized the blank fog, the steward -had a fairly certain idea of what to expect. -</p> - -<p> -"Gawd 'elp them yeller swine!" he -observed reflectively. "Skipper's going to lye -out that oil; it'll drift around 'em wi' -the tide. That's what 'e was w'iting for, -the hold fox! When the oil 'as got hall -haround that ship, skipper sends 'is boat -at 'er. Ho! Then 'e gets off in Mr. Leman's -boat, first lightin' the fuse. Then 'e lights the -oil. Oil an' fuse—and then the jar o' -powder—blime, but 'e's a fox, a ruddy fox! Ho! -And then the Missus she takes a 'and—only I -bet skipper 'e don't know as 'ow that fusee -is dry! Thinks it's wet as when 'e made it, -'e does! Well, wait an' see——" -</p> - -<p> -His reflections ended in a chuckle. The -steward, having no personal anticipation of -danger, cared not a snap what went on out in -the mist; in fact, he looked forward to a very -enjoyable time. -</p> - -<p> -The tide had turned, right enough, and -was strongly on the ebb. Rolling himself a -cigarette, the steward stretched along the -rail and waited comfortably; he could feel -the ship lift and tug and vibrate as the pull -of the tide-current swung her on the taunt -hawsers from stem and stern. The steward -watched the dim banks of fog with lazy -anticipation. He was in the position of a -front-seat spectator, and was determined to -have a good time. -</p> - -<p> -Thus, being intent upon the fog, waiting -for the first flare of yellow flame and the first -wild yell of alarm, the steward relaxed all -vigilance as regarded his own surroundings. -He was no seaman, and when the <i>Pelican</i> -gave a queer little sideways lurch, he merely -shifted his position slightly and reflected that -a wave must have struck her. Still there came -no sound from the fog, no token of flaring oil -or fighting men. The steward lighted his -cigarette and reflected that emptying the oil -bags seemed to take considerable time. -</p> - -<p> -It was perhaps five minutes later that a -queer sound came from forward—a sound -not unlike the breaking of a lax violin string, -but deeper. The steward did not hear it at -all; but a seaman would have known that -somewhere a taut cable had parted. When the -brigantine began to rock gently and evenly, -the steward took for granted that there must -be a ground-swell or something of that sort. -</p> - -<p> -Behind the steward moved a queer grotesque -figure—a figure that might have been -some strange nightmare shape moving silently -in the darkness; a figure with enormous and -bulbous head which rocked upon its shoulders -in monstrous and uncanny fashion. The figure -came to a pause just behind the steward whose -position was rendered quite certain by the -cigarette spark. -</p> - -<p> -"Put up your hands!" snapped a voice suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -The steward tumbled backward off the -rail and plumped down on the deck. A -faint howl of terror escaped him as he stared -up at the grotesque, horribly-shaped figure -whose bulk was intensified by the fog. -The figure stood over him, and a rifle poked -him in the ribs. -</p> - -<p> -"'Ave mercy!" howled the terrified -steward. "I'm a poor, innercent man——" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, it's <i>you</i>! Didn't know you, steward," -said the voice of Dennis. "Where's everybody? -Get up, old boy—I'll not hurt you!" -</p> - -<p> -But, recognizing the voice of Dennis, the -steward could only emit a horrified gasp. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't 'a'nt me, sir!" he pleaded, folding -his hands and getting to his knees in desperate -fear. "I didn't 'ave nothink to do wif it, -sir——" -</p> - -<p> -"Good heavens, I'm no ghost!" Dennis -laughed. "Where's the skipper?" -</p> - -<p> -"Gone, sir," quavered the steward. "Heverybody's -gone." -</p> - -<p> -"Where?" -</p> - -<p> -"To fight that 'ere Jap ship, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"You're all alone on board?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir." -</p> - -<p> -Dennis broke into laughter, dropped his -rifle and seized the hand of the steward, -pulling him erect. -</p> - -<p> -"Here, man, don't be afraid!" he -exclaimed. "I'm solid flesh and blood. But -you'll have to unscrew this helmet—the -thing's killing me, and I can't get rid of it. -I've cut off the rest of the suit—take hold, -now!" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Dennis sat down on the deck. Trembling -still, the steward unfastened the catches of -the helmet and unscrewed the big tinned-copper -globe. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, but that feels good!" sighed Dennis, -"I could open the front sight, but I couldn't -get the thing off. Now the corselet——" -</p> - -<p> -A moment later Dennis stood erect, gingerly -feeling his neck and shoulders. Suddenly -he laughed again and seized the steward's -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Shake, old man!" he exclaimed heartily. -"So they're all off fighting the Japs, eh? -Mrs. Pontifex too?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"And you didn't know that I'd cut the -old ship adrift—and that we're outward -bound with the tide?" -</p> - -<p> -The poor steward gave a violent start, -and stared around; but the shroud of fog -was too dense. -</p> - -<p> -"Drifting, sir?" he uttered fearfully. "And -what'll the skipper do?" -</p> - -<p> -"I should worry!" Dennis chuckled. "See -here, steward—I know you weren't in on the -plan to murder me; your giving me the knife -proved that. So we'll stick together, old -man, and if we get out of this, I'll see -that <i>you</i> come out on top. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, after Dumont cut my lines, I -got out on the stern of the wreck, above -the water; with your knife I got rid of most -of the diving suit, and managed to get ashore. -Two boats filled with Japs came ashore about -dark, not knowing I was there. They landed, -probably meaning to attack the <i>Pelican</i> -later. But I shoved out their boats, and came -aboard ship in one of them—got their rifles -too." -</p> - -<p> -He laughed heartily. "See here, steward—the -Japs are marooned on the island! -The Skipper is out attacking their schooner. -Meantime, we're drifting out to sea, -and—what's the answer?" -</p> - -<p> -"Blime, sir!" The steward gaped at him. -"It's mortal queer!" -</p> - -<p> -"It will be—for somebody," said Dennis -grimly. "Now get me something to eat." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir. This way, sir." The steward, -still but half-conscious of what had taken -place, turned toward the galley. -</p> - -<p> -At that instant a fearful yell arose from -somewhere in the mist; a yell that quavered -up and died quickly. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The steward halted, gazing over the -starboard counter; but the ship had swung and -was going out with the tide. It was over the -port bow that a wild flare of light glimmered. -Dennis saw it and cried: -</p> - -<p> -"The fools! They've set her afire!" -</p> - -<p> -"No, sir, it's the oil!" Breathlessly the -steward explained the Skipper's plan of attack. -Before he had finished, the flare of light -widened into a broad stream, lighting all -the fog redly. With it sounded renewed -yells—shrill piercing yells. -</p> - -<p> -Then, off to one side, broke forth a -crackle of rifles. That was the boat of the -Missus, cleverly pumping bullets at the Jap -ship from a wide angle. Through this burst a -volume of hoarse shouts, followed almost at -once by a single terrific detonation—the -thunderous shock of which sent the <i>Pelican</i> -reeling and shuddering. The green-striped -jar had exploded. -</p> - -<p> -After that one bursting, rending, shattering -crash, a swift darkness ensued. Through -this blackness pierced fragmentary glimmers -as the scattered and far-flung oil blazed up -here and there, only fitfully to perish again. -</p> - -<p> -"Good heavens!" exclaimed Dennis, -awed and astounded. "Old Pontifex got -more than he bargained for in that bomb, -or I miss my guess!" -</p> - -<p> -The <i>Pelican</i> was already past the scene -of the explosion. What had happened there -in the fog, could not be told. Whether the -enemy ship had been shattered, or whether -the whaleboats had themselves caught the -force of the explosion, could not be discovered. -All was silence and darkness from that quarter. -But from far astern, lifted a chorus of faintly -quavering yells as the marooned Japs on -the island discovered the loss of their boats. -Save for this, all was hushed and still. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, steward," said Dennis in the -silence. "Let's get that grub. I need it." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir," responded the steward meekly. -</p> - -<p> -And the <i>Pelican</i> drifted out upon the tide, -swinging and heaving gently to the slow swells -that rocked up through the fog. It was an -hour later that the first breath of air -came—the wind which, as sailors say, always comes -after death. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIV -<br /><br /> -THEY THAT TAKE THE SWORD— -</h3> - -<p> -A glorious sunrise broke across the ocean, -lifting the island peaks to the north into a -sheen of purple-rose and gold. Dennis -wakened to it—he had gone to sleep stretched -out upon a blanket on the quarter-deck—with -a thrill of sheer delight in the golden -splendour overhead; then he realized that the -steward was calling him, and he leaped up. -</p> - -<p> -The <i>Pelican</i> with her canvas all housed, -had been but little influenced by the breeze -from the north-west. She had made leeway, -drifting a couple of miles from her late -anchorage; having no glasses at hand, Dennis -could not tell whether the Jap ship still lay -by the island or not. -</p> - -<p> -"There's a boat tacking down to us, sir!" -rang out the steward's voice from forward. -</p> - -<p> -Dennis glimpsed her at once, and saw that -she must be a fishing-boat—a sturdy, bluff -little craft which seemed to carry but two -people, As he looked, he saw her brown -canvas flutter down; she was coming from the -north-east, and when her canvas was stowed -she headed directly for the <i>Pelican</i>. -</p> - -<p> -"Got a motor, eh?" reflected Dennis. -</p> - -<p> -He swung down the companion way and -located the binoculars of the skipper. With -these he returned to the deck. Caring less -about the fishing-boat than about conditions -at the island, he picked up the latter point -first; the steward had joined him and stood -waiting for disclosures. -</p> - -<p> -There was no ship in sight, much to the -surprise of Dennis. Nor could he make out -any sign of life upon the rocky crags of the -island itself. About a mile distant from the -brigantine he located a boat floating bottom-side -up. It was a whaleboat, and as it swung -around with the seas Dennis made out the -figure two painted at its bows. -</p> - -<p> -"That's the boat Mr. Leman took last -night, blime if it ain't!" ejaculated the -steward, upon learning its number from -Dennis. "Nothin' else in sight sir?" -</p> - -<p> -"No—hold on!" Dennis caught something -adrift toward the north end of the island. -"By thunder, there's another boat—she seems -to be standing out this way. There's -someone aboard her; they're getting up a sail. -Seems to be only two or three of them——" -</p> - -<p> -"That fishin boat is 'eading this w'y, -sir," broke in the steward. "Shall I pass 'er?" -</p> - -<p> -"By all means," responded Dennis, and -turned his glasses toward the craft. -</p> - -<p> -Amazement thrilled within him—amazement, -and startled unbelief. One figure -aboard her was huddled over the engine amidships -and could not be discerned; but in the -stern, wonder of wonders, sat Florence! -</p> - -<p> -There could be no mistake about it. She -was heavily wrapped in fur robes, but Dennis -saw her face sharply and distinctly—her pale -eager features, her brown eyes fastened upon -the whaler, her fur-gloved hand upon the -tiller of the boat. With a wild yell of delight -Tom Dennis leaped up, waving his arms, -and he saw Florence wave back response. -</p> - -<p> -"It's my wife, steward—hurrah!" Dennis -ran forward to aid the Cockney. "She must -have come all the way from Unalaska in that -boat! Here, get your line ready by the diver's -ladder in the waist; it'll be an easy climb -there. Great glory, what a surprise!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir," returned the steward, adding: -"And werry lucky hit is, sir, as she didn't -get 'ere larst night!" -</p> - -<p> -"You bet," said Dennis devoutly. "Thank -Heaven for the fog—it must have prevented -their trying to make the island!" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -As the fishing craft drew in toward the -whaler, Dennis recognized the man at her -engine—it was the same grizzled fisherman -whom he had hired to pick up Jerry. The -fisherman shut off his engine and came in to -the bow to receive the line which the steward -flung; the boat drew in beside the drifting -<i>Pelican</i>. Florence, rising stiffly, was aided -to the ladder by her bronzed helper, and a -moment later Dennis held her in his arms. -</p> - -<p> -"What on earth!" he exclaimed, as she -broke into mingled tears and laughter. -"What brought you here, dearest?" -</p> - -<p> -"You, Tom!" she exclaimed. "Jerry -told us that they meant to send you down in a -diving-suit and—and—oh, I'm glad we're -not too late! Captain Nickers has been a -darling, Tom——" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis shook hands with the fisherman, -who grinned and eyed the ship. -</p> - -<p> -"Looks kind o' fussed up, don't she?" -said Nickers. "Where's everybody?" -</p> - -<p> -Florence glanced around quickly. "Oh! -Where are they, Tom? Quick, you must -get away——" -</p> - -<p> -"Take it easy," said Dennis, and pointed -to the whaleboat standing down the wind -toward them. "Where they are, <i>I</i> don't know! -Lots of things have happened. So you came -all this way to give me warning?" -</p> - -<p> -"You bet," said Nickers. "Say, Dennis, -if I had a wife like you have—by gum, I'd -give a million dollars! That run over here -ain't no cinch for a lady, let me tell you; -but she stood watch an' watch with me like -an old hand—well, she's a wonder!" -</p> - -<p> -"We had to," Florence laughed, flushing -under the ardent words of grizzled old Nickers. -"I was terribly afraid for you, Tom, and there -was no one else we could get—but tell us, -what's happened?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis glanced at the approaching boat -and saw that she would not reach them for -ten minutes. So, dispatching the steward -to make ready some coffee, he gave Florence -and Nickers a brief outline of the situation, -making light of his own peril. -</p> - -<p> -"Where the Japs are," he concluded, -"I've not the faintest idea. And I can't figure -out what happened last night—where Pontifex -and the others went. I don't believe he -blew up the Jap ship, for I can't see any signs -of wreckings except Mr. Leman's boat. -Well, here's this boat coming in. What's -that in her stern, Nickers?" -</p> - -<p> -Having dropped his glasses in the excitement -of getting Florence aboard Dennis could -make out only that the approaching whaleboat -was manned by three Kanakas of the <i>Pelican's</i> -crew, but in her stern was a queer shapeless -mass that looked strangely terrible. -Across the thwarts forward lay two silent -brown figures, inanimate and evidently dead. -It was manifest that from this boat there was -nothing to fear. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, Tom!" Florence caught Dennis' -arm, a wild thrill in her voice. "In the -stern—it's Mrs. Pontifex." -</p> - -<p> -One of the Kanakas stepped forward across -the dead bodies of his two comrades and -bawled for a line as the boat's sail whipped -down. Nickers flung another rope, and the -whaleboat came in beside the fishing craft. -Then, for the first time, Mrs. Pontifex -stirred—and Dennis saw that her head was swathed -in bandages. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The Kanakas, frightened and trembling -at the appearance of Dennis whom they had -thought dead, came aboard aiding the Missus. -Their story was a ghastly one. At the first -flame of blazing oil, they had opened fire upon -the Jap vessel, obeying orders previously given -them by the Missus. But their firing had -ceased with the explosion; it had stunned -them. They had wakened to find two of their -number dead—and the Missus blind. -</p> - -<p> -All that night they had lain rocking to the -swells after vainly trying to find the <i>Pelican</i>. -The Jap ship had gone. They had heard men -swimming out to her from shore, and had -caught the sound of oars; then her motor had -started. It was very plain that the Japs had -been thoroughly frightened, and after picking -up their men ashore had turned and run for it. -</p> - -<p> -Florence, meantime, had aided the groaning -Mrs. Pontifex to get below. -</p> - -<p> -To his queries, Dennis could elicit no -response from the Kanakas regarding Mr. Leman -or Pontifex. They had landed at dawn, but -had found the island deserted. Seeing the -<i>Pelican</i> to leeward; they had set out to join -her, passing on the way the floating whaleboat. -They identified it beyond question as Mr. Leman's -boat. -</p> - -<p> -The steward came up with pannikins of -coffee during the talk, and now broke into -the discussion. -</p> - -<p> -"Beg pardon, sir," he said to Dennis, -"but I think as I know what 'appened, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"You do? Then out with it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Like this, sir. The skipper, e' myde -'is own fusee for that 'ere bomb, and I -seen 'im a-myking of it. 'E rolled it wet, -sir, but 'e myde it in the hafternoon, sir, -and before 'e come to use it larst night, the -bloody fussee 'ad dried out, sir. So when -'e lighted it, why, it wasn't no fusee at all, -but a regular train o' powder, sir——" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis turned away, sickened by the -thought of what must have happened. The -explosion must have taken place almost -instantly—no wonder Mr. Leman's boat was -floating bottom upward! Pontifex and -Ericksen and Corny and the others—all gone! -</p> - -<p> -"Well," said Nickers phlegmatically, sipping -his hot coffee, "all I got to say, looks -like old Pontifex got what he was fixing to -give other folks. Hey?" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis nodded and left the spot. Getting -coffee and biscuits from the steward, he went -to the after companion way; but at the top of -the ladder he encountered Florence coming -up alone. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll take this to Mrs. Pontifex——" -</p> - -<p> -"No use, Tom," Florence stopped him, -her face very pale. "Poor thing, she can't -eat yet; Tom, she broke down in my -arms—oh, I can't talk of it! The poor -woman——" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Dennis forced a draught of coffee upon her, -and Florence swallowed the hot liquid. It -sent a glow of colour into her pale cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -"So she's broken, eh?" mused Dennis. -"Poor thing—one can't help but feel sorry -for her, Florence, and yet in a way she -deserved all that has happened. Look here, -what are we going to do? About ourselves, -I mean, and this ship, and the salvage." -</p> - -<p> -He briefly explained what must have -happened to Pontifex and Mr. Leman, glossing -over the event as much as possible. But -Florence seemed not to hear. She stood at the -rail, gazing out at the purple peaks to the -north for a long while. Suddenly she turned -back to him, a faint smile upon her lips. -</p> - -<p> -"Tom, the first thing will be to straighten -everything out at Unalaska! Before I left, -I told the authorities everything. They're -trying to get the revenue cutter, but we shan't -need her now, of course. -</p> - -<p> -"We can charter this ship from -Mrs. Pontifex—it'll give the poor woman some -money to go on—for a share in the proceeds of -the salvage. Then we can come back and -clear up everything in father's old ship——" -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed." Dennis turned. "Oh, Cap'n -Nickers! Think we can take this craft into -Unalaska with what hands we have?" -</p> - -<p> -"Reckon we can," floated back the voice of -the grizzled fisherman. "I got a Master's -ticket, and if I can't lay a course there's -something wrong with the Gov'ment!" -</p> - -<p> -Dennis looked eagerly to Florence. "We'll -make him skipper—eh? And we'll give him -a share in the profits, too——" -</p> - -<p> -Her arms crept about his shoulders. "Oh, -Tom—we'll do <i>everything</i>, won't we? But -you'll never leave me behind again." -</p> - -<p> -"Not much!" Dennis pressed his lips to -hers, and laughed softly. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<h3> -THE CONCLUSION -<br /><br /> -OUTWARD BOUND -</h3> - -<p> -Four months after Tom Dennis had vanished -from Marshville, the dingy and shut-up office -of <i>The Clarion</i> was reopened. Dennis had -returned—and he had not returned alone. -The mortgage held by banker Dribble -was cancelled. A new linotype machine -was installed in <i>The Clarion's</i> dingy back -room. The first issue of the paper announced -that it was back again to stay. And it -stayed! -</p> - -<p> -Also, some very good farms along the -river were purchased by a gentleman named -Nickers. Mr. Nickers announced that he -was a retired sea-captain and was now -about to take up the profession of farming -Mother Earth—the dream of every -sea-faring man alive. -</p> - -<p> -Each afternoon at five minutes of two, -Mr. Nickers would stride down the street -and enter the office of <i>The Clarion</i>. The -wide front office was now divided into two -rooms. Mr. Nickers invariably passed to -the second room and entered, closing the -door behind him. -</p> - -<p> -One afternoon, however, he came slightly -earlier than usual. Tom Dennis, who was -in the second room, shook hands heartily. -In the corner by the window that -overlooked Main Street sat a man of huge -physique and massive features; this man -was able to move only with difficulty and -by aid of a stick. Miles Hathaway would -never be the man he had been, but at least -he could get about. Modern surgeons can -do much that appears miraculous to the -layman. -</p> - -<p> -Hathaway held up his big fist and -exchanged a hearty grip with Nickers; then -he lifted a rugged booming voice in a -shout that rattled the plate-glass window. -</p> - -<p> -"Jerry! Where's that— Oh, here you are!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir," meekly responded a moon-faced -lad, popping in at the door. He was -clad in printer's apron and had a very dirty -face, as is the rightful heritage of every -printer's devil who is yet passing through -the "type lice" jest of hoary memory. But -he was manifestly a very happy boy. -</p> - -<p> -"Strike four bells!" roared Miles Hathaway. -"And fetch my pipe and tobacco." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Dennis beckoned to Jerry and whispered -something. The boy struck a brass ship's -bell of the regulation eight-inch size which -hung near the door—struck it one-two, -one-two, as a ship's bell should be struck, -then vanished hastily. He had barely gone -when Florence came into the room, with -a smile and a kiss for everybody -concerned—which seemed to mightily embarrass -Captain Nickers but not to displease him -particularly! -</p> - -<p> -Florence started to speak, then halted -as Jerry re-entered the room bearing a tray -with glasses and a long green bottle. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, Tom!" she exclaimed quickly. -"You're not drinking?" -</p> - -<p> -"We're all drinking to-day—and you'll -have to take a sip at least!" said Dennis, -laughing. He produced a corkscrew and -opened the bottle. "News for you, Florence! -Now, Jerry, fill 'em all around—and a -specially big one for Cap'n Nickers!" -</p> - -<p> -Wondering, Florence watched Jerry obey -the order. Then Tom Dennis, lifting his -glass, met her puzzled eyes with a gay -laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"Good news, Florence! Two things have -happened this morning. First, the other -paper has offered to sell out to us—and -I'm going to accept their offer, running it -as a weekly from now on. That means no -opposition here. And second, I've signed -a whopping advertising contract with one -of the biggest agencies—it came in the mail -this morning. Ladies and gentlemen, that -means that from this time forward <i>The -Clarion</i> is not only established firmly here -in town, but she begins to haul in the coin! -</p> - -<p> -"I've made mistakes," pursued Dennis -more soberly. "I made 'em when I was -here before, and I've profited by them. -Beginning with next Monday's issue <i>The -Clarion</i> dies for ever! Beginning with next -Monday its place will be taken by <i>The -Marshville Pelican</i>—and here's to the new -ship!" -</p> - -<p> -"Hurray!" said Cap'n Nickers. But -Florence turned to her husband. -</p> - -<p> -"And Tom," she said softly, "you'll have -to find a new society editor. I—I'm going -to stay at home after this and—and make -a real home for you!" -</p> - -<p> -Of all those who heard her words Tom -Dennis alone understood—and perhaps Miles -Hathaway understood also. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -THE END -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - PRINTED BY<br /> - FISHER, KNIGHT & CO.; LTD.<br /> - LONDON AND HARPENDEN<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE PELICAN ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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