GATHERING CLOUDS
"Ruth," Drew pleaded. "Look at me."
She dropped her work then and met his eyes.
"You're angry with me, aren't you?" he asked.
"No; I'm not angry," she replied slowly.
"But you're vexed?" he suggested.
"I should say rather that I am sorry," she answered. "Everything has
been so pleasant between us all up to now, and I hoped it was going to
remain so."
"It was that impulsive tongue of mine," he said. "The words slipped
out before I thought."
"What you said was nothing," she replied. "But the tone in which you
spoke was unpleasant. It seemed as though you were trying to put a
damper on things. It came like a dash of cold water, and I'm sure that
Mr. Parmalee felt chilled by it."
"You seem very much interested in Mr. Parmalee's feelings," he said,
with a return of jealousy at the mention of the other's name.
"No more than I am in those of any of my friends," she answered. "I
think he is very nice, and I was very much interested in what he was
saying," she added, with a tiny touch of malice.
But she repented instantly as she saw the pain in Drew's eyes.
"Let's forget all about it!" she exclaimed. "It was only a trifle,
anyway."
"You forgive me then?" he asked.
"Of course I forgive you, you foolish boy! And to prove it, I'm not
going to make you do any penance," she added gaily.
From that time, a smile from Ruth raised Drew to the seventh heaven,
but when her smile was bestowed on Parmalee, he was dashed to the
depths.
One thing especially was calculated to torture the jealous heart of a
lover. Several times Drew observed Ruth and Parmalee engaged in what
seemed to be a peculiarly confidential talk. Their heads were close
together and their voices low. They seemed to be talking of something
that concerned themselves alone.
The first time he saw them together in this way, he strolled up to
them, but they changed instantly to a lighter and more careless tone,
and introduced a topic in which he could join. But Ruth's face was
flushed and Parmalee was scarcely able to disguise his impatience at
the interruption.
After the first time, Drew left them alone. His pride refused to let
him be a third in a conversation plainly designed for two.
In his secret musings Allen Drew dwelt on and exaggerated the
advantages which Parmalee possessed. To be sure, he was weak and
delicate, while Drew had the strength of a young ox. But Parmalee had
wealth and standing and a polished manner that appealed strongly to
women. Why should he not, with his suavity and winning smile,
fascinate an impressionable girl?
Ruth herself, warned by the chilliness between the men that grew more
pronounced with every day that passed, did her best to be prudent. The
mischievous pleasure of having them both dangle when she pulled the
strings had been replaced by a feeling almost of alarm. She realized
enough of the fervor of Drew's passion to know that he was in deadly
earnest and would brook no rivalry.
Tyke had been enjoying himself hugely from the start. He had utterly
cast aside all thoughts of the business he had left behind him, and
when Drew sometimes referred to it he refused to listen. The sea air
and the delight of being once more in the surroundings of his early
days had proved a tonic. His leg mended with magical rapidity, and by
the time they had been ten days at sea he cast aside his crutches and
managed to get about with the aid of a cane. Almost every moment of
the day and evening when he was not at meals, he spent on deck,
exchanging yarns with Captain Hamilton, studying the set of the sails,
or gazing on the boundless expanse of sea and sky.
The weather so far had been perfect, and the schooner had slipped along
steadily and rapidly, most of the time carrying her full complement of
canvas. The captain thought that in about two or three days more they
would be in the vicinity of Martinique. Once there, to the westward of
that island, they would cruise about until the cay shaped like the hump
of a whale should appear on the horizon.
But despite the good weather, there had been for some time past a
shadow on the face of the captain which betrayed uneasiness. The young
people, absorbed in their own affairs, had not noticed it, but Tyke's
shrewd eyes had seen that all was not well, and one day when the
captain dropped into a chair beside him, he broached the subject
without ceremony.
"What's troubling you, Cap'n Rufe?" he asked. "Out with it and git it
off your chest."
"Oh, nothing special," replied the captain evasively.
"Yes there is," retorted Tyke. "You can't fool me. So let's have it."
"Well, to tell you the truth," said Captain Hamilton, "I don't quite
like the actions of the crew."
"No more do I," said Tyke calmly.
"Have you noticed it too?"
"I've still got a pair of pretty good eyes in my head. But heave
ahead."
"Well, in the first place," said the captain, "it's about the worst set
of swabs that ever called themselves sailors. Some of 'em don't seem
to know the spanker boom from the jib. Of course, that isn't true of
all of 'em. Perhaps half of them are fairly good men. But the rest
seem to be scum and riffraff."
"What did you ship the lubbers for?" asked Grimshaw.
"I didn't," answered Captain Hamilton. "I was so busy with other
things that I left it to Ditty."
"An' there you left it to a good man!" Tyke said scornfully. "I've
been keeping tabs on that Bug-eye, as they call him, since I come
aboard. He's a bad actor, he is. Listen here, Cap'n Rufe----" and the
old man, with a warning hand on Captain Hamilton's knee and in a low
voice, repeated what he had told Drew in the hospital about the
one-eyed man being at the scene of his accident.
"And was it Ditty?" gasped Captain Hamilton.
"Surest thing you know. An' I don't believe I dreamed he went through
my pockets. What was that for, when he didn't rob me of my watch and
cash?"
The master of the schooner shook his head thoughtfully, making no
immediate reply.
"Ditty's a pretty good sailor himself, I notice," went on Tyke.
"None better," assented the captain.
"An' he knows a sailor when he sees one?" continued the old man.
"Of course he does," the captain affirmed. "And that's what has seemed
strange to me. He's often picked crews for me before, and I've never
had to complain of his judgment."
"Well then," concluded Tyke, "it stands to reason that if he's shipped
a lot of raffraff this time, instead of decent sailors, he'd a reason
for it."
"It would seem so," admitted the captain uneasily.
"Have you put it up to him?" asked Tyke.
"I have. And he admits that some of the men are no good, but says that
he was stuck. He left it to some boarding-house runners, and he says
they put one over on him by bundling the worst of the gang aboard at
the last minute."
"A mighty thin excuse," commented Tyke.
"Of course it is; and I raked Ditty fore and aft on account of it. I'm
through with him after this cruise. I've only kept him on as long as I
have because Mr. Parmalee wanted it so. But he finds another berth as
soon as we reach New York."
"I've noticed him talking to some of the men a good deal," remarked
Tyke.
"That's another thing that's worried me," said the captain. "Up to
now, Ditty has always been a good bucko mate and has kept the men at a
distance. Did you see the man I knocked down the other day when he
started to give me some back talk?"
"Yes," grinned Tyke. "You made a neat job of it. Couldn't have done
it better myself in the old days."
"But the peculiar thing about it," continued the captain, "was that I
had to do it although the mate was a good deal nearer to the fellow
than I was. Ordinarily, Ditty would have put him on his back by the
time he'd got out the second word. But this time he had paid no
attention, and I had to do the job myself."
"Well, what do you make of it all?"
"I don't know what to make of it, and that's just what's troubling me.
If I could only get to the bottom of it, I'd make short work of the
mystery."
"How's your second officer, Rogers? Is he a man you can depend on?"
"He's true blue. A fine, straight fellow and a good sailor."
"That's good."
"I wish he were mate in place of Ditty," muttered the captain.
"Well, he ain't," replied Tyke. "An' to make any change jest now with
nothing more'n you've got to go on, would put you in bad with the
marine court. We'll jest keep our eyes peeled for the first sign of
real trouble, and' if them skunks start to make any we'll be ready for
'em."
"I wonder what the matter is with Drew and Parmalee over there!"
exclaimed the captain suddenly. "More trouble?"
Tyke followed the direction the captain indicated and was astonished to
see that the young men seemed to be on the verge of an altercation.
Their faces were flushed and their attitude almost threatening.
The captain hurried toward them, and Tyke hobbled after him as fast as
he was able.
The tension between Parmalee and Drew had been slowly but steadily
tightening. Little things, trifles in themselves, had increased it
until they found it hard to be civil to each other. In the presence of
Ruth and the two older men, they suppressed this feeling as much as
possible; and except by Ruth it had been unsuspected.
The purest accident that afternoon had brought the matter to a crisis.
Ruth was detained below by some duty she had on hand, and Drew was
pacing the deck while Parmalee, leaning on his cane, was standing near
the rail looking out to sea.
As Drew passed the other, the ship lurched and his foot accidentally
struck the cane, which flew out of Parmalee's hand. Deprived of the
support on which he relied, the latter staggered and almost lost his
balance. He saved himself by clutching at the rail. Then he turned
about with an angry exclamation.
Drew stooped instantly and picked up the cane, which he held out to
Parmalee.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It was an awkward accident."
"Awkward, sure enough," sneered Parmalee.
"As to it's being an accident----" He paused suggestively.
Drew stepped nearer to him, his eyes blazing.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you intimate that I did it
purposely?"
Parmalee regretted the ungenerous sneer as soon as he spoke. But his
blood was up, and before Drew's menacing attitude he would not retract.
"You can put any construction on it that you please," he flared.
Just then Tyke and the captain came hurrying up.
"Come, come, boys," said the captain soothingly, "keep cool."
"What's the trouble with you two young roosters?" queried Tyke.
They looked a little sheepish.
"Just a little misunderstanding," muttered Drew.
"I fear it was my fault," admitted Parmalee. "Mr. Drew accidentally
knocked my cane out of my hand, and I flew off at a tangent and was
nasty about it when he apologized."
"Nothing mor'n that?" said Tyke, with relief. "You young fire-eaters
shouldn't have such hair-trigger tempers."
"Shake hands now and forget it," admonished the captain genially.
The young men did so, both being ashamed of having lost control of
themselves. But there was no cordiality in the clasp, and Tyke's keen
sense divined that something more serious than a trivial happening like
the cane incident lay between the two.
Tyke had never seen the French motto: "_Cherchez la femme_," and could
not have translated it if he had. But he had seen enough of trouble
between men, especially young men, to know that in nine cases out of
ten a woman was at the bottom of it. He thought instantly of Ruth.
He decided to have a serious talk with Drew at the earliest
opportunity. But as he looked about, after the young men had departed,
he saw signs of a change in the weather that in a moment drove all
other thoughts out of his head. He limped into the cabin companionway
to look at the barometer.
"Jumping Jehoshaphat!" he shouted, "we're going to ketch it sure!
She's down to twenty-nine an' still a-dropping!"