SEA FIGHT.
Dutch von Holzeman sat beside Jimmie Grant's bed in the hospital at
Yuma. "You got a swell chance," he said firmly. "Be thankful you're
not sittin' on a damp cloud right now playing a harp. The doctor tells
me that if that bullet went a gnat's heel lower you'd have caught it
in the lung instead of just above. Be your age, you poor old wreck.
You're going to stay right here, and Field Marshal von Holzeman will
attend to the knock-off. Me and the Scotland Yard johnnie."
"You forget that I'm your superior officer," Jimmie said, sitting up in
bed. "If Jimmie Earpe and I don't come to the party, there ain't goin'
to be no party, my Dutch friend."
"German, not Dutch," corrected Von Holzeman, as he always did when any
one deliberately mentioned his ancestry. "German is 'von,' Dutch is
'van,' ignorant."
"Excuse me," grinned Jimmie. "Anyway, I'll be there."
"Oh, no, you won't," said a calm voice from the doorway.
The old doctor, who had treated gun wounds in the Southwest long before
Jimmie was born, came in the room. "The human body, young feller, can
only stand so much; then it goes out of commission. Yours is a strong
one and is coming back all right--to get some more, no doubt. But for
the next two weeks you will stay right in that bed unless you think you
can lick me and all the rest of us."
"I don't," Jimmie mourned. "If I did, I'd have tried her a long time
ago."
"Laugh that off, Chames," said Dutch. "Anyway, don't worry, old kid.
You had your fun with Kentuck, and we got this Monckton walking right
in our parlor."
"Yeah? How are you doin' 'er, Dutch?"
"Two revenue boats, the Bear and the Haddon, will follow 'em up the
coast, while a navy flyer spots the Carmen and radios her progress.
Wang Li has given Monckton a place to get contact in the mouth of the
river. When the Carmen gets in far enough, the navy will close the neck
of the bottle; the army, consisting of me and the Scotland Yard man and
nine million customhouse hombres, will put out from shore in launches
and what not; we'll board her, and once aboard the lugger, the jewels
are mine."
"How about the Chinks that Wang Li is sending up as decoy ducks? What
happens to them?"
"It'll take some knockin'," replied Dutch, with a grin. "Those two are
the hardest-boiled gunmen the Chang Kwang owns. Soon as the yacht gets
in the mouth of the river they are going to retire quietly but firmly
to some place where they can repel any attack until we get on board."
"Well," Jimmie sighed, as he leaned back against the pillows, "I guess
Jimmie number one and Jimmie number two fade from the picture, darn it
all. That's what we get for going around playing instead of tending to
business. Hop to it, old kid Field Marshal von Holzeman."
* * * * *
The beautiful white yacht nosed her way daintily into the mouth of the
river from the open sea, Clark, Monckton, and Mrs. Monckton on the
bridge. Captain Davis had been dropped at Mazatlan. The Umpqua River
mouth was fairly wide, perhaps half a mile, clear of obstructions, and
heavily timbered on both sides.
"We ought to sight Wang Li's launch any minute," said Monckton, and he
turned and looked aft along the deck. "The gentlemen high-binders have
gone below. Packing up, probably. Better slow down a little, Clark."
Mrs. Monckton, who had turned as Monckton spoke, suddenly laughed, an
amused, clear laugh. "Look behind you."
From around the bend in the shore line, not a mile behind them, came
the two revenue cutters, crews at the guns.
"My word!" laughed Monckton. "Neatly trapped."
"Take the wheel," said Clark. "I'll go below and get those two yellow
crooks. We may have time to--"
"You're going to stay right here, Mr. Clark," said Mrs. Monckton icily.
"You need not hunt for the jewels; I have them on me."
Clark laughed and let go the wheel, which Monckton seized, throwing it
over to hard-a-port as the Carmen gathered speed.
Clark looked at the fast converging revenue boats, at the launches
speeding out from shore, at Monckton at the wheel, and at the lovely,
ice-cold woman who stood with a sneer on her exquisite lips, her eyes
intent on his, all else forgotten. This was the man who had killed
Langdon, swimming wounded in the water, and she forgot all else.
"Give them to me!" Clark commanded, his own eyes as cold as hers, his
hand flashing under his arm.
Mrs. Monckton laughed, and in the face of the revenue boats and the
crowded launches and the crew of the Carmen, who were now on deck, she
straightened her right hand out from the frilly lace cuff and shot
Clark between the eyes with a little .25 caliber automatic.
Monckton laughed recklessly.
"Nice work, old girl! Get down! I'm going between them!"
He headed the Carmen straight at the Bear instead, the guns of his
killers on deck spitting lead.
* * * * *
The grizzled old captain of the Bear grunted: "Going to ram us? Let him
have it!"
The first shell struck the Carmen on the bow, the second hit square
amidships as she fell away. The rapid-fire guns swept her deck as
mercilessly as her crew had swept men out of life.
A bugle blew "cease firing," and the _rat-tat-tat-tat_ was stilled.
The Carmen lay on her side, filling rapidly, her immaculate woodwork
splintered and torn.
Men were jumping overboard, to be picked up by the launches. The bridge
was practically intact; the gunners of the Bear had seen a woman there
and had avoided it. Monckton lay clinging to the wheel, on the bridge,
whose slant now was pronounced. Mrs. Monckton, holding to a rail, was
beside him.
"Get them off you," he commanded calmly. "Claim that you knew nothing
of my--"
"Do you think that I would live to go to prison?" she demanded. "Fight
it out, Frank."
McGuire crawled up beside them, his Colt in his hand.
"What now, captain?" he asked, with a grin.
"Whatever you like," answered Monckton, letting go the wheel and
getting into a sitting position as he drew his gun.
Climbing over the rail of the bridge from starboard came the Scotland
Yard man and Dutch von Holzeman, followed by two of the customhouse men.
Monckton and McGuire fired at them.
A splotch of red came on Dutch's linen coat--the Scotland Yard man fell
back, a bullet in his shoulder from McGuire's gun. The customs men
fired at the same time as Dutch. Monckton and McGuire slumped to the
slanting deck, dead.
Mrs. Monckton fired once at the nearest man, missed, put the little
automatic to her mouth--and the yacht went under the calm water.
The small boats backed away to avoid the suction, only the Bear
steaming closer. Dutch von Holzeman came up, then the Scotland Yard
man, then the customs men, who had jumped as far clear as they could.
Monckton's body floated to the surface, and the Scotland Yard man
ordered it taken in one of the boats.
A young lieutenant on the Bear suddenly kicked off his shoes, tossed
his coat on the deck and took a long dive over the side.
He came up with Mrs. Monckton's body, which he had seen drifting along
under water. In spite of the shattering wound in the back of her head,
where the bullet had spread coming out, she had the same cold, calm
beauty of face. Her blue eves were open and as wintry as ever.
* * * * *
Dutch von Holzeman, who had insisted on being taken to the same
hospital, was telling Jimmie Grant and Jimmie Earpe about it. Jimmie
Grant was so far advanced now that he was sitting in an invalid chair.
He and Jimmie Earpe listened with envy in their eyes as Dutch rubbed it
in by describing every detail of what he termed the sea fight of the
century. He wound up by saying:
"The jewels were on her, and after the Scotland Yard man gets out of
the hospital he's going home and get made an inspector, I bet you. Boy,
howdy, you poor prunes missed a show."
"Yeah?" said Jimmie Grant. "How about the two yellow brothers--did they
get away?"
"Well, when me and the Scotland Yard bird was climbing up onto the
yacht, we passed them climbing out of a porthole. Old Wang Li had a
launch up there on watch for them. Chances are they made it."
"If they didn't, you better go far, far away, boy, and every time you
see a Chink for the next million years you get something in your hand,
right quick, as Jimmie number one would put it."
"It's catching before hanging," answered Dutch cheerfully. "The D. A.
at San Francisco is seeing Wang Li right away. Old Wang is a good
sport, and he doesn't want to lose face, not any. If it came out that
he had been gypped by a Federal agent, it wouldn't be so good for him.
They'd laugh him out of the Chang Kwang."
"Tell you who _will_ scare you," answered Jimmie grimly, "and that is
the Bureau of Accounts, when they get your expense account for the last
month."
"Now," said Dutch, with a grin, "you said something."
THE END.