to a light that had just begun to show right over the port bow. Eight
bells struck off upon the clock in the house as he spoke, and the
cry came from forward. The chief mate, who was on watch, came to the
pilot-house window, reached in, and took out the night glasses. He
adjusted them and gazed at Cape Maysi. Captain Junard watched him
narrowly, and noted that he took the bearings and made the remark
in his order book. Mr. Jameson was a good officer and a first-class
navigator, and Junard did not wish to appear on deck until he was
called. It looked as if he did not trust the officer sufficiently. He
would wait until the light was reported officially.
When Junard turned to reënter his room, he heard a slight noise. There
was a rustle, a whirl, and the door of the room to port clicked to. It
had been shut when he jumped from his bunk. He gazed in the direction
of the safe, and saw that it was now standing wide open, the door
swinging slowly with the motion of the ship. He sprang to the switch
and turned on the light, full power.
In front of him was the safe, with the door open. In front of the safe
lay a huge knife, and alongside of the knife lay his revolver, fully
loaded, and cocked. Whoever had it was ready to use it upon a moment's
notice. The intruder had fled at the sound of Junard's steps upon the
pilot-house companion.
Junard was a very heavy-set man. He stood but five feet two inches, but
was at least three feet across the shoulders, an immense man for his
height, his chest being as broad and hairy as a gorilla's. His powerful
legs were set wide apart to steady himself to the ship's motion, and
for a brief instant he stood there in the full light, clothed in his
pajamas. Then, with a roar like that of a bull, he plunged headlong for
the lattice door of his room, and, bursting it with a crash, reached
the deck in full stride. He just caught sight of what appeared to be
a skirt, switching around the corner of the deck house, and he leaped
savagely for it. He reached the corner, swung around it--and saw no
one. Down the alleyway he ran, swung about, and came out to port upon
the deck. There was not a soul to be seen, and he hesitated an instant
which way to run. Then he ran aft with prodigious speed, and, within a
couple of seconds, reached the cabin companionway. The light burned at
the head of the broad stairs, but not a soul was in sight. He dashed
inside silently, being barefooted, and, peering over the baluster, he
saw the steward on watch peacefully snoring away in a chair near the
water-cooler at the foot of the stairway.
"Sam!" he called sharply.
The man awoke with a start.
"Aye, aye, sir!" he said, looking about him, recognizing the captain's
voice, but not seeing him at once.
"Has any one come down this way within the last few minutes?" asked
Junard.
"No, sir, not a soul, sir."
"Sure?"
"Sure, sir. I've only been dozing but a minute. I'd have seen 'em, sir."
Junard slipped away quietly, leaving the under-steward wondering what
he wanted. With amazing swiftness, the master rushed back to his room.
He reached it, and went inside the broken door. The light was still
burning, but the safe was now closed. He tried the combination lock,
and found it had been locked. The gun and knife had also disappeared.
The room was in perfect order, the light burning full power, and there
was not a thing to show that there had been an entry made. The bursted
door was the only sign of any irregularity. He stood gazing at the safe
for a few minutes. The thing was almost uncanny. He began to wonder
if he had not had a nightmare, dreamed the whole thing. He turned the
combination of the safe, and opened the door again. The contents of the
safe were apparently intact. He reached for the inner drawer, where the
important papers had been kept. They were gone.
It was not nightmare, after all. The thing was real. The papers had
been taken from the safe, and they were worth perhaps a million to the
finder, if not much more; that is, if they could be gotten out of the
ship and into the hands of those who were antagonistic to the deal. He
pondered a few minutes more, and then decided to go on deck and stand
the next watch upon the bridge, remaining there, with the excuse that
the cape was drawing abreast and he would take his departure from it.
He decided not to say anything to either officer. The thing had best
be kept secret, for the very existence of the papers might imperil his
company, if that existence were known to certain parties. He hastily
dressed and went on the bridge.
Mr. Dunn, the second officer, was now on watch, and it was about a
quarter of an hour past midnight. The cape was drawing up, and was fast
approaching the port beam. The ship was running about sixteen knots
through a smooth sea, with a stiff northeast trade blowing almost dead
ahead.
Junard came to where the second officer stood. Mr. Dunn turned and
spoke to him, remarking upon the blackness of the night and the
clearness of the Cape Maysi light.
Captain Junard said nothing, but watched the second officer narrowly,
and tried to fathom his demeanor, looking for some sign that might show
a knowledge of what had transpired aboard within the past few minutes.
Dunn had been upon the bridge when that safe was shut, when the
revolver had been taken away. Yet Dunn had been in the employ of the
company for ten years, and was a reliable man, a sailor who had always
done his duty without murmur. He had a fine record.
The light drew abeam, and the ship ran close to the low, rocky point
where it juts out into the sea. The high mountains a few miles back
showed dimly in the gloom, making a huge shadow in the background. As
the light is upon the north side of the low promontory and shows across
to the southward, the land was very near as the ship steamed past it
and laid her head for the passage.
Junard gazed hard at the shore. He was thinking. Would any one try
to get into communication with Cuba here at the cape? There was a
question. If a small boat lay near, with lights out, she might get
close to the ship without being observed, for it was quite dark, and
the loom of the land made it darker than usual. It was nearly six
hours' run to the next light, in the Bahamas, across the channel, and
the Inagua Bank was too far to the eastward to invite shelter for a
small boat. It would be either at the cape, or near Castle Rock, or
Fortune Island, he believed, that an attempt might be made to get into
communication with the ship. This he must stop. No one must get in
communication with the land before daylight. Then he would search every
passenger thoroughly, go through all rooms, and take a chance at the
result. At Castle Rock he would be on watch, if nothing occurred here.
He gazed steadily into the blackness ahead. The stiff trade wind blew
the tops of the seas white. They broke in whitecaps, which showed now
and then through the gloom of the night. He strained his eyes, but
nothing showed ahead. The glass showed a dull, dark sea; there was
nothing in the line of vision within three miles--that is, nothing as
large as a whaleboat. He was sure of this. There might be something
under the dark loom of the land, but the glass failed to show anything.
"You take a four-point bearing upon the light, Mr. Dunn, and get the
distance accurate," said Junard. "The mate took his bearing before
he left the deck, but you can take another--we are about abreast
now--she's doing exactly sixteen."
Knowing that this would take the second officer until the light bore
four points abaft the beam, Junard left the bridge and went aft without
notice. He slipped down to the main deck, and went along the gangway
until he reached the taffrail. The whirl of the wheel shook the ship
mightily here, the long, steel arm of the tiller under the gratings
shook and vibrated with the pulsations. The chains drawn taut clanked
and rattled in the guides and sounded above the low murmur of the
shaking fabric. Junard gazed over the stern and watched the thrust of
the screw as it tore the sea white and whirled a giant stream astern
that showed sickly white with the phosphorescent glow.
When he turned again, he was aware of some one watching him. A head had
appeared and vanished from behind the end of the cabin structure. The
captain sprang for it with a bound. He turned the corner in time to see
a skirt disappearing into the alleyway leading into the saloon. He was
upon it with a catlike rush. He reached the saloon door just as it
closed in his face.
Without hesitating an instant, he plunged against it, and it gave way
to his great weight and power. He burst with a crash into the saloon.
The under steward who was on watch aft saw an apparition of a man in
uniform coming through the door like a bull. He had opened his eyes in
time to recognize the captain, who ran right across the cabin and out
upon the deck beyond.
Junard was swift. He made a reach for the figure as it flitted into a
room which opened upon the deck nearly amidships. His iron grip closed
upon the skirt, which stretched out in the wind behind the fleeing
figure. Then something struck him full in the face, took his breath,
and blinded him. He clung to the cloth, choking, coughing, and blinded;
made a grab with his free hand to clutch the person--but his grip
closed upon empty air.
When he got the ammonia out of his eyes, which were almost blinded
by the scorching fluid, he hurried to his room and bathed his head
copiously in cold water until he regained his sight.
"Well, it's a woman, all right," he commented. "We'll have her all
right in the morning; she won't get a show to-night to get away with
anything. I guess I've got her measure."
In a few minutes he sent for the purser.
That individual came to the captain's room with fear and trembling.
He had been playing draw poker, and breaking the rules of the ship,
regardless of discipline, and expected, of course, to get a rating.
"Give me the passenger list," said Junard.
It was produced. They ran over it, looking for the location of all the
women under thirty or thereabouts in the ship. Junard said nothing of
his adventure, and the purser was amazed at his appearance.
"Had a bad night, captain?" he asked.
"Yes, rather. There's a case of cholera aboard--among the women--I
don't know which one, but we'll have a chance to find out to-morrow.
Don't speak of it to any one, mind you; don't let it out under any
conditions--you understand?"
"Sure not," said the purser, paling a little under the news. "How did
you come to find it out, sir?"
"Never mind that now. Just keep an eye on all the women in this ship,
and don't let any of them get to throwing things overboard, or trying
to do anything foolish. Watch them, and tell me of anything that might
happen."
The purser, amazed, went back to his game of poker with certain
passengers; but before doing so, he instructed several of his force to
watch both gangways for the rest of the night. He did not know what
the "old man" expected, but supposed that cholera patients attempted
to throw things overboard, or tried suicide. The thought of the dread
disease aboard made him forgetful of the game, and he lost heavily
before morning.
Junard, still smarting from the ammonia thrown in his face, came again
upon the bridge. He had saved his eyes by a fraction, for the fluid had
struck him right in the nose and mouth, and only the spray of it had
gotten into his face higher up. It had been squirted by a fluid "gun"
of the kind commonly used by bicyclists for repelling angry dogs. Part
of the skirt had remained in his grip, but the person had slipped away
in an instant and disappeared. It angered him to think a woman could do
such a thing. And yet, if it were a woman watching him, there was sure
to be more than a woman connected with it. No woman, he reasoned, could
have tried his safe. No woman would have taken his revolver and carried
it, along with a deadly knife. There must have been a well-organized
party to the affair, and they had watched him, after taking the papers,
to see just what he would do. Of course, he knew they would not toss
such a valuable document overboard in the night time without a boat
being close at hand to pick it up. The ocean is a hard place to find
anything at night. He knew now that they were aware of his watchfulness
and would not attempt to get rid of the papers except under the most
favorable conditions. To throw them overboard attached to anything
small enough not to attract attention would be to invite sure loss. He
reasoned this out as he stood out the rest of Mr. Dunn's watch, and at
eight bells--four o'clock in the morning--the mate came again on the
bridge without anything happening to excite him.
"I've been on deck for a short time, Mr. Jameson," said Junard; "but
I'm going to turn in for a little while. Call me when we get well up to
Castle Rock--we'll raise it before morning, before daylight with the
weather clear like this."
"Aye, aye, sir; I will, sir--she's doing fine now," said Jameson, as he
signed the order book for his course during his watch.
At two bells--five o'clock--the mate called the captain by going to his
port door and knocking. He was amazed at the sight of a young woman
who came forth from the room and whisked herself quickly down the
deck and out of sight. Such a thing as a woman in the master's room
at that hour was enough to excite Mr. Jameson. He had not been on the
ship long, and the captain was new to him. Masters naturally had love
affairs as well as sailors, but they were generally careful about being
caught. Here Junard had asked him to call him when they sighted Castle
Rock, and, as he knew they must do this by five, at least, the mate
was puzzled to see a woman leaving the captain's room when he knocked.
Why hadn't she left sooner? It was a joke he would be bound to retail
to the rest sooner or later, and he smiled at the thought. He tried to
get a glimpse of her face, but failed. Then he waited a decent length
of time, and knocked again, louder, announcing the light ahead on the
starboard bow.
Junard came on deck instantly. He had been dressed and dozing.
The gray light of the morning, which was now beginning to show things
a little, enabled Junard to note the smile upon the face of his chief
mate.
"Anything funny doing?" he asked.
"No, sir; but I seen her--I couldn't help it."
"Seen who?"
"I beg your pardon, sir; but she was just going out when I came to call
you when I raised the light--your orders, sir, you know. I wouldn't----"
"Out with it! Whom did you see?" snapped the captain sharply, and his
tone told plainly that he was in no mood for a joke. The mate sobered
at once.
"There was a lady leaving your room as I came to knock--that's all,
sir," he said sullenly. The captain had a poor appreciation of humor,
he thought.
"What kind of looking woman was she?"
"Medium-sized, very well built--I might say stocky, sir--dressed in a
dark cloth dress; she didn't have on a hat." This last was with almost
a sneer. It brought Junard around with a jerk.
"I don't wish to seem foolish, Mr. Jameson, but you appear to presume
too much. I might insinuate gently that you are a damn fool--but I
won't, not until you tell me what is amusing you, and what you saw.
I will say there was no woman in my room. If there was, I'd not be
troubled to confess it."
"That's all I seen, sir," said Jameson sourly.
"Which way did she go?"
"She went aft," said the mate, wondering at the captain trying to hide
the obvious. It irked him to think his master a fool. "She went aft,
and that's all I seen."
"Mr. Jameson, there's a few things you don't know," said Junard. "When
we get abreast of Castle Rock, I want you to go aft and watch both
sides of the ship carefully, you understand? I want you to see that
not a thing is thrown overboard--not a single thing--and if there is
anything showing in the wake, come to me at once--or, better still,
ring off the engines and mark it to pick up. This is very important.
I can't tell you right now just how important it is, but I will say
your berth depends upon it. Do not let anything leave the ship without
notice--not a thing."
"Aye, aye, sir," said Jameson; and he went aft amazed at the outcome of
his deductions. He wondered what was up. Some affair of the captain's,
he was sure. But the severity of the master's tone, the earnestness
of the captain's manner, disturbed him greatly. There was something
peculiar about it that made him, forced him, to give his attention to
it. And there was the threat of his own berth, his position, being in
forfeit. He did not like that kind of talk from a captain. It savored
of undue severity. He took his station aft of the superstructure with
some misgivings. In the gray light of dawn, he watched both gangways,
first one side and then the other, keeping well back of the house.
Castle Rock light drew well upon the bow. It was now within a mile, and
Junard noticed a small fishing boat riding in the fairway just ahead
of the ship. As the water was very deep here, he knew she was not
anchored, but must be waiting and under way; yet no sail showed upon
her. Perhaps a powerful motor lay within her. He watched her carefully,
and walked from side to side of the bridge, waiting for some sign from
those aboard. The wake was now showing white in the gray of morning,
and a small object could soon be distinguished in the smooth sea to
leeward of the lighthouse, where the heavy swell of the Atlantic was
cut off.
Jameson, who stood at the taffrail, saw a figure of a man peer from
the window of a stateroom nearly amidships. The head was quickly
withdrawn. The mate watched, and then walked quickly across the stern
and watched the wake, wondering what might be taking place. The form
of a woman flitted down the gangway from forward, showing dimly in the
gloom. She came from the opposite side of the ship from where he had
seen the head peer forth. Hiding behind the house, he watched her come
quickly aft. She was carrying something in her hand that looked like a
life buoy. Instinctively the mate made ready to catch her. He saw that
life belt, and to his imagination it spelled something like a person
going overboard. The form of a man came quickly behind her, and Jameson
recognized one of the under stewards, who had been watching for trouble
at the purser's orders.
The woman ran at the sound of footsteps behind her. She came with
amazing swiftness to the taffrail, near where Jameson stood. He
gathered himself, and sprang forth, clasping her in his arms just as
she hurled the life belt over the side into the sea.
The girl screamed shrilly, struggled frantically in the embrace of the
officer. Jameson wondered what he was about--began to think he had
captured a lunatic--when the rush of feet above caused him to loosen
his grip. He turned in time to see Captain Junard take a header from
the rail of the deck above and plunge headlong into the sea where it
boiled and swirled from the thrust of the screw.
Jameson was paralyzed for an instant. He distinctly saw his commander
go overboard. It gave him a shock. He let go the girl and stood
motionless for a second. Then, as the head of Junard arose in the white
waste astern and struck out for an object, the life belt the girl had
thrown over, he gathered his wits again, and dashed for the quarter
bell pull, or telegraph, to the engine room.
Full speed astern he threw it, and the astonished engineer on watch
nearly fainted under the sudden warning. Thinking that a collision
was at hand, he shut down and reversed under full power, opening the
throttle wide, and giving her every ounce of steam in her boilers as
she took the strain. The sudden take-up, the tremendous vibrations, and
the slowing speed awoke many passengers. Not a sound of action had gone
forth save the screams of the girl, and these were now silent as she
had quickly flitted out of sight when the mate released her. Jameson
rushed to the bridge and called his watch as he ran. Then he set the
siren cord down hard, and the unearthly roar awoke the quiet tropical
morning. Men rushed about. The watch hurried aft.
"Stop her!" yelled Jameson to the quartermaster. "Stop her--don't go
astern!"
"Stop her, sir!" came the answering cry from the wheel. Jameson rushed
to the rail again, and cut loose a life buoy from its lashings. He ran
aft with it, intending to throw it out to his captain. Junard, however,
was but a speck, far astern, his head showing like a black dot in the
white water of the wake. The mate noticed for the first time that the
small fishing boat ahead was now standing down toward the ship under
rapid headway, the exhaust from her motor sounding loud and sharp over
the sea.
"Get the quarter boat down--quick!" came his order.
Then he hesitated a moment. The small fishing boat was nearing them
with rapidity. She headed straight for Junard, and would reach him long
before any rowboat from the ship could get there.
"Hold on! Avast the boat there!" he ordered. "That motor boat will pick
him up, all right." Then the thought that he was not quite right in
not lowering down a boat for his commander, that it might look queer,
waiting for a stranger to do his evident duty, came over him, and he
gave the order to lower away. The small boat dropped into the sea. The
steamer was now motionless, lying in the calm sea behind the rock, with
her engines stopped. Men crowded the rail aft to watch.
"What's the matter? What made him jump overboard?" came the question
from all sides. "It's the captain! What's up?"
Jameson could not quite tell. He was vaguely aware that his commander
sprang over for some object. That he took a desperate chance, with the
ship going ahead, was certain. Had he not been seen, the vessel would
have been miles away before missing him, for there had been no warning
from the bridge. The mate slid down the falls, wondering what he was
doing.
"Cast off--give way, port; back, starboard!" came his order. He stood
up, to see better, and gazed at the fishing boat, that now approached
the speck he knew to be the head of Captain Junard.
"Give way together!" he said, glad to get away from the ship, with the
inquisitive crowd gathering rapidly and increasing in both anxiety and
numbers.
He watched the motor boat come quickly to where Junard swam. The
captain was not a good swimmer. Few seamen can swim well. Jameson saw
the boat approach, men lean out from her side, and grab something,
apparently trying to lift the captain aboard. Then there was a
tremendous floundering and threshing about in the sea, distant shouts
for help from the captain, and the mate grasped the tiller yoke with a
certain grip.
"Give way, bullies! Give way--all that's in you now!" he urged.
Something was taking place that he did not quite understand, but he had
heard that call for help.
Junard saw the fishing boat coming toward him before it reached him.
He waited, swimming slowly and reserving his strength, feeling that
the occupants were hostile and were waiting for the papers that had
been tossed overboard. It was about where he expected something to
happen. The lighthouse and the shelter of the island made it a most
convenient spot to pull off the finish of the affair. The light-draft
fishing boat, with her motor, could easily evade capture from anything
the ship could send out after her. The steamer herself could not enter
the shoal water, and must allow the smaller boat to get away across
the shallow parts of the Great Panama Bank to some distant rendezvous,
where the papers could be put aboard a proper ship to take them to the
conspirators. He, the commander, had no right to leave the ship in the
manner he had done; but necessity called for drastic action, and he had
plunged over the side as soon as he had seen the girl fling an object
overboard.
Three men in the fishing boat were watching him as she drew up. His own
boat was a long distance off, but he hoped the mate would hurry.
A man came forward in the motor boat, and leaned out from her side.
He watched him narrowly. The man made a grab for Junard as the
boat reached him, and the captain, with a sudden jerk, dragged him
overboard. Then he yelled for help.
The man's two companions in the boat sprang to his aid. Junard found
himself engaged in a desperate struggle with three men, and shoved
himself away from the side of the craft.