It was past midnight, and the chief steward of the Gambier was taking a
last glance through the empty saloon to see that everything was in order
before he turned in, when Swires, the purser's bedroom steward, came to
him.
“If you please, sir, the gentlemen in No. 16 send their compliments, and
would be obliged to you if you will let them have their lights on full
for an hour or so for a game. And they want a couple of bottles of
Usher's and a dozen of soda.”
“Why can't they play cards in the-smoking-room on deck?” grumbled the
chief steward; “there's a man on duty there until two o'clock--they know
that well enough. Who's going to wait on them, and see after the
lights?”
“I will, sir, if you don't mind,” replied Swires, a clean-shaven,
deferential young man with shifty eyes.
“Well, it's against the rules. And if the skipper or the purser comes
along, and finds you loafing about in, the alley-way when you ought
to be turned in, I'll get into trouble as well as yourself. Captain
Forreste is a very liberal gentleman, but he puts it on a bit too thick
when he asks me to run risks.” But as he spoke he took out his keys, and
proceeded to open his sideboard lockers--he had already received several
golden tips from Captain Forreste and his friends, and felt certain of
more in the future.
“I told the gentlemen, sir, that I would get into trouble if the purser
or yourself seen me in the alley-way after eight bells, and they said
that I might sit in their state-room until they had finished their
game.”
“Oh, well, I suppose I must give in to 'em. Tell 'em not to make too
much noise.”
As soon as Swires entered No. 16 with the whisky and sodas, Cheyne
turned the key in the lock.
“Well?” asked Forreste interrogatively, as the steward laid the bottles
down in one of the berths.
Helping himself to a cigar from a box on the table, the man lit it, and
then sat down familiarly.
“Well,” he replied, “I've found out that we are going to coal from
a collier at Cooktown--that's one thing. Another is that there is
a dinner-party to be given on shore to the skipper by the saloon
passengers on the night after we get there, and most likely the purser
is going.”
“Ah,” and Capel's black beady eyes glittered, “that'll be our chance.”
“Yes, we'll be coaling for about sixteen hours, beginning in the
afternoon. There will be a dust screen put up just near the purser's
cabin, because one of the bunker shoots is just a little for'ard of his
door--see?”
“Yes,” and all four men bent eagerly towards Swires.
“Well, there'll be a thundering clatter with the coals as they come
pouring down from the upper deck, and that will be the time to get in,
cut the wire, and do the job right away. There'll be no one this side of
the dust screen after eleven at night, as most of the passengers will be
ashore at the dinner, and those who don't go will be asleep.”
“Supposin' the flamin' purser don't go?” said Cheyne, a small, wiry,
sunburned man, who, although like his confederates was extremely
well-dressed, was an exceedingly illiterate man. He was Australian
born, and from his youth upward, when not occupied in horse-stealing or
thimble-rigging on bush race-courses, had spent the intervening time
in gaol. Pinkerton, who was an American of a somewhat similar type to
Cheyne, but of a more villainous nature, was an expert burglar, and a
very fitting companion to the astute and well-educated Forreste, and the
Jew, Barney Green.
“Well, what if he doesn't?” responded Swires, turning to Forreste;
“you've got the stuff for me to give him in his B and S before he turns
in. You're always cacklin' about it. Where is it?”
“Here you are,” and Forreste went to his Gladstone bag, opened it, and
took out a tin box containing a number of very small unlabeled phials,
each holding about ten drops of colourless liquid. “Empty one of these
into the tumbler before you put in the brandy, and he'll be dead to the
world in ten minutes after he drinks it.”
“I'd like to know how many flimsies there are in that packet,” said
Capel.
“We'll know before long,” replied the steward. “It is a good big bundle.
I seed the bank clerk give it to him in the saloon, and take a receipt
for it, but couldn't get a look to see how much it was for.”
Discussion then followed as to the future movements of the gang after
the robbery, and it was decided that Capel and Cheyne should take the
plunder on shore and hide it, and the following morning they should
inform the purser that they intended to remain at Cooktown instead of
going on in the steamer to Somerset and the newly-discovered rushes
further north. This would cause no surprise, for already a number of
the diggers on board had formed a deputation to Adlam, asking him if
he would make them a rebate on their passage money if they landed at
Cooktown; explaining that they had learnt at Port Denison that it would
be easier to get to the new gold-fields from Cooktown than from any
other place to the north of that port.
Swires was to receive a fifth share of the plunder, and was to desert
from the ship as soon as possible after the robbery. He had long been
associated with the gang, and indeed it was at his suggestion, made
in Sydney, that they should attempt to open the ship's safe. After
a separation of twelve months--spent in prison--from his former
companions, he had succeeded by means of an excellent “discharge,” which
he had stolen from an unfortunate steward named Swires, in getting
a berth on the _Gambier_, and the first thing he did was to look up
Forreste and Capel, and suggest their all going to the new gold-fields,
pointing out that there would be a great number of passengers on board,
and that they were bound to do well.
“That is just what we meant to do,” Capel had said, “and we can wire to
Cheyne and Pinkerton to join us. They are 'working' Bathurst just now,
and will be here by to-morrow night.” Then he added that it was a bit
of luck that he (Swires) should be the purser's attendant--it would give
them a very fair chance of making a big haul. If, however, they did not
succeed in their anticipation of perpetrating any robberies or swindling
on the voyage by cards, they knew that on a new gold-field they would
have glorious opportunities. Swires--who really was a ship steward--they
had become acquainted with in San Francisco, and had admitted into their
fraternity. For quite two years they had “worked” the mail steamers
between Sydney and San Francisco, fleecing the passengers who were
foolish enough to be enticed into playing with them. Sometimes there
would be but two of them--with Swires--sometimes three, and they usually
took their passages separately, met on board as strangers, and,
being always well-dressed, and very agreeable in their manners, soon
ingratiated themselves with the rest of the passengers. Their lavish
manner of living and courteous attention to ladies and children always
paved the way to success; but at last they became too well known, and
had to change their sphere of work from the American steamers--which
are always infested by sharpers--to other lines. As “the Hon. Wilburd
Merriton” the chief scoundrel of the gang had travelled all over the
world, changing his name and appearance as occasion demanded. In the
mining towns of California and Nevada he would be a wealthy English
gentleman looking for suitable investments; on a Peninsular and Oriental
liner from Melbourne to London, he would be either a college professor
enjoying a twelve months' holiday trip, a squatter in the Northern
Territory of South Australia, or the owner of a nitrate mine in Peru;
and whatever role he played, he always succeeded in swindling some
one. Women were his chief victims. His handsome appearance, fascinating
manners, and easy courtesy were as fatal to a confiding woman as to the
managers of banks who cashed his cheque when he was “temporarily short
for a few hundreds.” An excellent linguist in the principal Continental
languages, he could also talk like, and assume the manners of, the rough
gold-diggers with whom he so frequently associated for his nefarious
purposes. Unlike his associates--the Jew, Barney Green (alias Capel),
and Pinkerton and Cheyne--he had only once seen the inside of the
prison, when as “the Hon. Wilburd Merriton” he was given a sentence of
two years' hard labour for forgery in Auckland, New Zealand.
Lacey, who was then editing a newspaper in that somnolent little city,
had seen him in the dock, and heard something of his career; and so,
when he saw him standing on the after-deck of the _Gambier_, he had
given Gerrard his hurriedly scribbled warning.
The discovery by Swires of the location of the secret safe in the
purser's cabin had come about in a very simple manner. A plan of the
electric connections between the dynamo in the engine-room, and Adlam's
cabin and other parts of the ship, had come under his notice through
the carelessness of the chief engineer, who had left it on the purser's
table, and Swires had studied it so carefully that although he had
not the time to make a copy, he had been able to explain the mechanism
perfectly to Pinkerton and Capel. The unlocking of the door of the
purser's cabin was a very easy matter to professionals like Cheyne,
Pinkerton, and Barney Green, and so when their conference closed, and
the oily-voiced steward bade the gang good-night, the latter were highly
elated at the prospect of making a big haul with scarcely any danger of
detection.