LA RUE’S WILD LEAP.
“Aren’t there any life preservers on board?” he wailed piteously.
His tones might have stirred a heart of flint. Ralph actually felt sorry
for the fellow, wretch as he knew him to be. But the thought of the
revolver that had been so recently pressed against him, and the threats
with which he had been overwhelmed, steeled him against compassion.
“Life preservers? I don’t believe there are, Hawke,” he said. “You see,
the boat was to be equipped with a new type of preserver and the old
ones were all sent ashore some days ago. They have not yet been replaced
by new ones.”
“I’d give a thousand dollars for a life preserver right now!” cried
Hawke. “I am rich. I could reward anyone who would save my life.”
Ralph’s strategy had worked. The fellow was in abject fear of his life
by this time. He was firmly convinced that the _River Swallow_ was
doomed to be annihilated.
Another big wave slapped the craft on the bow, sending a shower of spray
high over her.
“Oh, Lord!” groaned La Rue. “I thought sure we were gone that time,
Captain Stetson.”
“For shame! Be a man, Hawke. Is there anything you want to save?”
“Oh, gracious, are we going down?”
“I don’t know. As I said before, I think it very likely.”
“We’ll be food for fishes this time to-morrow! Oh-h-h-h-h-h!”
The _River Swallow_ gave a giddy, sidewise plunge. At the same moment a
flash of lightning illumined the tossing water. It was Ralph’s turn to
give a gasp of dismay. The flash had revealed, down the river, a big,
black object that he knew must be an island.
The wind and the current were carrying them down stream.
“Wow!” exclaimed Ralph to himself. “There may be more truth than poetry
in Hawke’s fears. If we ever hit——”
He did not dare to complete the sentence even to himself. The thought
was too horrible. In his mind’s eye he could see, as clearly as in a
nightmare, the breaking up of the _River Swallow_ on the rocky shore of
an island.
“You-you asked me if there was anything I wanted to save?”
It was La Rue’s scared, trembling voice again.
“Yes; get what you can, Hawke. But don’t let it be anything bulky. If
you don’t want to be dragged down, take only your most valuable
possessions.”
“My most valuable possessions! Oh, gracious!”
“What’s the matter now?”
“Oh, I feel seasick. I have a fearful attack of _mal-de-mer_.”
“Fight it off,” advised Ralph. “This is no time to be seasick. In a
short time you may need all your strength.”
With another hollow groan the unhappy wretch dived below to carry out
Ralph’s advice about saving his valuables. It was not long before he
appeared on deck once more, staggering and moaning in a piteous manner
to himself.
This time a flash of lightning gave Ralph an opportunity to observe that
La Rue carried a slender black leather wallet, which he clasped as if it
were something as precious to him as life itself. In the glare of the
lightning, the man’s face was as white as chalk and his eyes blazed with
a weird, unnatural light.
In spite of his momentary impulse of pity for the man, Ralph felt a wave
of disgust for such a helpless craven sweep over him, as he watched him
stagger up the steps to the bridge.
“Do you think there is a chance to save my life?” he stuttered out as he
gained Ralph’s side.
“Impossible to say,” was the reply. “But see here, Hawke, you appear to
think only of yourself. Haven’t you any concern for your companions
below?”
“Never mind them,” cried La Rue, beside himself with fear by this time,
for the storm had reached the height of its fury; “they are only
understrappers, both of them. Do you see this case?” he continued
wildly.
The man’s actions and speech were such that Ralph thought that fright
must have turned the fellow’s head.
“Yes, what of it?” demanded Ralph, as he eyed the wallet the man was
flourishing under his nose.
“Look!”
He opened the case. In the light of another vivid flash, Ralph saw
within the case a transparent pane of talc. Under this thin covering
gleamed something that made Ralph’s head swim as he gazed.
The flash had revealed to his astounded gaze a fortune in gems. White,
red and green, they mirrored back the lightning with blinding radiance.
“Gems!” gasped the boy.
“Yes, gems,” rejoined Hawke, his face livid as another brilliant flash
revealed every line of his features and his wild, staring, frightened
eyes; “gems worth two hundred thousand dollars. If you save my life, I
will see that you are well rewarded.”
In the now almost incessant glare of the lightning, Ralph’s eyelids
flickered. But it was the brilliance of the gems held out almost under
his nose by his terrified passenger that made him wink, far more than
the electrical display.
“Goodness! They’re enough to blind a fellow,” he exclaimed to himself as
he eyed the heap of precious stones.
“But what good are those gems to you in comparison with your life,
Hawke?” demanded Ralph.
“None! none!” wailed the wretch abjectly. “I’d give ’em all to you,
Captain Stetson, if you’d save my life. But they are not mine to give. I
am simply an agent for others.”
“A gem smuggler, in fact?” demanded Ralph sternly.
“Yes; that’s what you might call it. Oh, captain, I have led a bad life!
I’d like to repent before I die.”
“You are in the employ of several men engaged in the business of evading
duties on precious stones?” remorselessly pursued Ralph.
“Yes, sir. Oh! but I repent all my wickedness now. I’d give all these
gems for even ten minutes of life. I——”
He broke off. An appalling flash of lightning pierced the sky, followed
by a peal of thunder that rent the heavens. Even Ralph quailed before
such a terrific upheaval of the elements. As for La Rue, he sank to his
knees on the bridge.
“The gems! the gems for my life!” he implored, his eyes raised skyward.
He was still in the midst of a half-insane tirade, when the _River
Swallow_ struck with a quivering shock.
“It is the end!” screamed out La Rue, his voice ringing above the uproar
of the storm.
Before Ralph could stop him, he had rushed to the side of the bridge;
and then, with a wild cry, he plunged straight overboard into the
boiling, angry waters that swept alongside.