MEASLES AND MUTINY
As Phil realized the full gravity of the situation he instinctively
shrank from assuming the responsibility so unexpectedly thrust upon
him. One of his aunt Ruth’s long-ago stories of a poor little bear who
found himself alone in the great big world with all his troubles before
him flashed into the boy’s mind, and he said to himself, “This little
bear’s troubles have met him, sure enough, and in full force.”
But why should he assume this responsibility? This was not his
expedition, and he had no interest in it save that of a passenger. It
did not seem at all likely that it could succeed now, and as they must
apparently return to St. Michaels sooner or later, why not do so at
once, and get out of this scrape the easiest way possible. Or why not
turn the whole business over to Mr. Sims, the engineer, who was well
paid for his work, and who was supposed to have counted the cost of
failure as well as of success. Yes, that was the thing to do: shift the
responsibility to Mr. Sims, who was paid for assuming such duties.
But hold on, Phil Ryder! Have you not also been paid, at the very
highest rate too, by the man who now lies so helpless before you, and
whose fortunes are in your hands? Did he not rescue you from a certain
death out there in those cold, cruel waters, when your bidarkie was
on the point of foundering? Did you not gladly accept his offer to
accompany him on this trip when all appeared smooth sailing? Have you
not been fed and clothed at his expense? Above all, has he not proved
his confidence in you by appointing you to a position of trust? Are
such things as gratitude and loyalty unknown to you? You were proud
to be called first mate yesterday, and now you shrink from performing
the first and most evident duty of the office. You owe everything to
Gerald Hamer, and yet you would intrust his fortunes to a man whom you
know to be a drunkard whenever liquor is within his reach, and on whose
movements the captain bade you keep a close watch. Shame on you, Phil
Ryder! What would Serge say if you should do this cowardly thing? Would
you ever dare face his honest gaze again?
These thoughts, which flashed through Phil’s mind in a few seconds,
stung him as though they had been so many clearly uttered words. The
hot blood rushed to his cheeks, and with a very determined look on his
face the lad walked forward. He found Serge in the pilot-house, and at
once laid the situation before him. In conclusion, he said:
“We must make some move at once, for this westerly wind is kicking
up such a sea that our anchors won’t hold much longer. It would be
even more dangerous to attempt a return to St. Michaels than to lie
here. Besides that, to place ourselves at the mercy of our enemies
for the winter would mean the utter ruin of the expedition and the
loss to Gerald Hamer of every cent he has in the world. So, under the
circumstances, as the present command of this craft seems to devolve
on me, I propose to continue on our course, get rid of that fellow
Strengel at the first opportunity, and push on up the river until our
farther progress is barred by ice, or until we discover a good place in
which to lay the boat up for the winter. We must surely find white men
somewhere who will help us, too.”
“Yes,” replied Serge, “we are certain to if we can only get as far as
the Anvik Mission. At any rate, Phil, what you propose to do is exactly
the right thing, and you can count on me to back you up to the last
gasp.”
“I knew I could, old man,” replied Phil, warmly. “Now let’s go below
and make ready to start.”
Calling on the two millwrights to follow them, Phil and Serge made
their way to the engine-room, where they found the engineer just
rousing from a heavy sleep, which Phil strongly suspected had been
aided by liquor.
“Mr. Sims,” said he, “what would be the effect if a cylinder-head
should blow out under a full head of steam?”
“The effect?” replied the engineer, slowly, and evidently surprised
at the question. “Why, any one who happened to be in range would be
killed, all in this part of the boat would be more or less scalded,
and the chances are that this expedition would come to a very sudden
termination.”
“Of course yours is all right?”
“Certainly; I examined it only yesterday,” replied the engineer,
testily. “Now, if you are through with your foolish questions, it seems
to me you’d better notify the captain that everything is ready for a
start. I don’t want to waste steam by blowing off, and there’s more on
now than we ought to carry.”
“Would you mind stepping this way a moment?” asked Phil, taking the
engine-room lantern and holding it back of the cylinder.
Moved by curiosity as to what the young seal-hunter could be up to, the
engineer stepped forward, gave one look, and uttered a cry of horror.
More than half the bolts holding the massive cylinder-head in place
had been loosened.
“Upon my honor, I knew nothing of this thing, Mr. Ryder,” he gasped.
“Of course you didn’t,” answered Phil, grimly; “for it was done while
you were sleeping off the effect of those brandied peaches. Where is
Strengel?”
“He is aft somewhere. But surely, Mr. Ryder, you don’t suspect him of
this dastardly act?”
“Go and tell him to come here,” ordered Phil, turning to one of the
millwrights.
In a moment the man returned, and reported that Strengel claimed to be
too busy to come just then.
With an expressive glance at his friend, Phil left the engine-room, and
Serge followed him. A minute later, in the resistless grasp of the two
athletic young fellows, Mr. Strengel was being rushed along the deck
so rapidly as to suggest that he had very imperative business in the
engine-room.
“Here, gentlemen, is the man who did that thing!” cried Phil, as he
gave the breathless and trembling wretch a shove that landed him in a
corner.
[Illustration: “HERE IS THE MAN WHO DID THAT THING”]
“So help me, Mr. Ryder――” he began, abjectly.
“Shut up!” shouted Phil, “and don’t you dare speak again until you are
spoken to. There is no doubt of his guilt, gentlemen, for I saw him
loosening those bolts as plainly as I see him now, when I came down
here awhile ago to make ready for starting. He did not see me, for I
was in darkness, while he worked by lantern-light. So I watched him for
a full minute while he prepared this death-trap for the rest of us. No
wonder he has sought the most distant and safest part of the ship ever
since.
“Moreover, it is this man who, on two previous occasions, has attempted
to cripple our machinery. He is employed by the old company to injure
and delay this expedition by every possible means. From the evidence
before us it looks as though he would not hesitate to commit murder to
accomplish his designs. Now, gentlemen, what, in your opinion, ought to
be done with such a bit of scum?”
“Shoot him! Throw him overboard!” suggested two of the little group in
a breath, while Serge said nothing, but tightened his clutch of the
prisoner’s collar ominously.
“Turn him over to the captain,” said the engineer; “he’ll settle the
case in a hurry.”
“That is what I started to do, and what I am afraid of,” replied Phil.
“The captain has sworn to shoot on sight the first man he catches
tampering with the machinery of this boat, and I don’t believe he’d
hesitate a moment before doing it, either. At the same time, gentlemen,
we don’t want to have any bloodshed on the _Chimo_ if we can help it.
It would not only give her a bad name and injure our prospects on the
river, but would furnish us with a cause of regret for the rest of our
lives. So I thought I would ask your opinion before reporting this
affair to the captain.
“My plan would be to get under way as quietly as possible, which the
captain ordered me to do anyway, if we were afloat at daylight, and run
over to the Pastolik wood-yard. There we’ll give the scoundrel a chance
to slip ashore and hide himself. He’ll be picked up fast enough by the
natives who own the yard. We won’t make any stop there, but will run on
up our staked channel and be out of sight before anything is said to
the captain. Thus we shall get rid of our murderer without having his
blood on our hands, and at the same time leave him where there won’t
be the slightest chance of his troubling us any more. In fact, I’m
inclined to think that if he once gets safely out of this boat, he’ll
be wise enough never to come near her again. I shall be sorry for
him if he does, that’s all.”
After some discussion, during which the wretched prisoner watched the
faces of his judges with painful eagerness, this plan was accepted.
Under strictest supervision of the engineer, Strengel was made to
repair his own mischief. Then with Serge to keep careful watch of
affairs on the lower deck, and with Phil at the wheel, the _Chimo_
steamed away from the place of her long detention. As she neared the
Pastolik wood-yard Strengel was not only ready to leap ashore at the
first opportunity, but he was warned by the angry mutterings of those
about him that to remain on board a moment longer than was necessary
would place his life in imminent jeopardy.
So, as the steamer rubbed against the bank, he made a leap; his bag was
flung after him, and, without having come to a full stop, the _Chimo_
moved on, Phil ringing the jingle-bell for full speed the moment it was
safe to do so.
It is hard to say which was the more pleased at this successful
termination of the affair: Phil to be so easily rid of a dangerous
member of his crew, or the wretch who had so easily escaped a
well-merited punishment.
As soon as the steamer again reached the staked channel, Phil resigned
the wheel to Serge, and, calling on the two millwrights to aid him,
removed the stricken captain to the lower deck. There a bed had been
prepared for him in a warm corner, near the boiler, which was carefully
curtained by tarpaulins against any draught of cold air. Although
the young mate had but slight knowledge of sickness, and was still
uncertain as to the nature of Gerald Hamer’s illness, he knew that
warmth would do his patient no harm, and that in a case of measles it
was necessary to a successful treatment of the disease.