revenge had been a failure. How in the name of all that was holy and
unholy had the admiral managed to rise from the foc'sle to the
command of the _California_?
"And I thought Blaker and Simpson was both men!" said Smith with
disgust. "There ain't any trustin' to appearances, nor to reputation
neither. But how could the swine have done it?"
An early evening paper had the whole story, and as Shanghai was still
up town, all his crowd of crimps and slaves roared over the yarn.
"He fo't the mate and was give 'is billet," said one. "I say, but
old Blaker was a sport. That's real old Western Ocean packet law.
And then Blaker went luny with psalm singing and the hadmiral locked
'im up. 'Strewth, but it must 'ave bin a picnic! I'd 'ave give a
month's wages to see the show. But 'oo was it shang'aied a hadmiral?"
He spoke with bated breath.
"Who'd it be but Smith?" asked the speaker's mate sulkily. "He's a
devil, a notorious devil, as _we_ know. He'd shanghai his father for
a quarter, if he was dry. And a month back my own brother that
shipped in the _Cyrus J. Brown_ told me as Shanghai had a down on
this very man."
"Then I wouldn't be Smith for all 'is money. This'll be a Government
business."
It would have been if the admiral had been any other kind of man.
But Admiral Sir Richard Dunn was one of those, and they get rarer
every day, who prefer handling their own affairs. He had a gift of
humour, too, and was mightily pleased with himself.
"Whoever it was that laid for me, he never meant to make me master of
the _California_," he said, as he came west on the cars. "And
whoever he was, I will fix him. The mate was pretty certain it was
this Shanghai Smith. If it was----"
If it was, it seemed a healthy thing for Mr. Smith to leave San
Francisco and hide somewhere in the Islands. But all his interests
kept him where he was, even when H.M.S. _Triumphant_ came down again
from Esquimault and lay waiting for the admiral off Goat Island.
The crew of the _Triumphant_, being very proud of their own special
admiral, were in so furious a rage against any one connected with
crimping in the city, that no "liberty" was granted to any one of
them.
"It's hall very fine," said the _Triumphants_ unanimously, "but these
'ere Americans are too smart by 'alf. Them and hus'll part
brass-rags one of these fine days. But ain't it fine to think that
Dicky went to sea as a man before the stick, and come out right on
top?"
They chortled with exceeding pleasure,--with pleasure founded on his
achievements and on the unexpected experiences he had had of sea-life.
"To think of Dicky bunking it among a crowd of merchant Jacks," said
the crew. "We'd give a lot to 'ave seen him shinning up aloft for
dear life."
But all the same, they loved him dearly, and when he came alongside
five days later, not all their sense of discipline prevented their
breaking into a storm of cheers that rang out across the bay and was
almost heard at Oakland. Hard as Dicky Dunn was, he went to his
cabin rather in a hurry. For once in his life he could hardly trust
himself to speak. But he received the congratulations of the captain
and officers, including young Selwyn, who had been with him when he
had been kidnapped, with the greatest calm.
"Yes, I've had some experience," he said, "and I don't know that it
has done me any harm. I know more of the conditions on board
merchant vessels than I did before."
"And what do you propose to do, Sir Richard?" asked Selwyn an hour
later. "The authorities and the police seemed very anxious to do
what they could."
The admiral lighted one of his own cigars, and found it more to his
taste than the ship's tobacco of the _California_.
"I don't propose to trouble the police," he said, "nor need there be
any international correspondence so far as I'm concerned. I'll play
my own game. I think, Selwyn, that I know who laid for us that
night. And from what I learnt in the _California_ (I learnt a lot,
by the way) I've a notion that ordinary justice would never get hold
of the man, at least not in San Francisco, not even if I paid for it."
"Then what----"
But Dicky Dunn interrupted him.
"I've a notion," he said significantly.
And that afternoon he sent Selwyn ashore with a very polite note to
the chief of the San Francisco police, saying that Rear-Admiral Sir
Richard Dunn would be very glad to see that gentleman on board the
_Triumphant_ late that evening, if he could make it convenient to
come.
"Let the band begin to play!" said Mr. Peter Cartwright; "it looks as
if I'd better face the music. I wonder if he has any kinkle as to
the man who did it? It's more than I have, unless it was Smith, or
Sullivan."
As he drew his five thousand dollars a year and pickings partly
through the grace of both the notorious boarding-house keepers that
he mentioned, he did not relish running against them. Nevertheless,
it was better to do that than run against a mightier snag. He
looked, with a groan, at the pile of correspondence which had
accumulated since the admiral's disappearance.
"And here's the British Consul wants to see me to-morrow!" he cried.
"They'll cinch me if they can get no one else."
And he went on board the _Triumphant_ feeling as if he was out of a
job.
The admiral received him courteously, and was alone.
"This has been a bad business, admiral, sir," said Mr. Cartwright,
"and as chief of police of this city I feel it as a personal slur.
Your request to see me anticipated me by no more than twelve hours.
I proposed to seek an interview with you to-morrow morning."
"I am obliged to you," said the admiral. "Will you have anything to
drink?"
"It _was_ rather cold on the water," replied Cartwright.
And when the chief of police had a tumbler of hot whiskey and water
in both hands, the admiral opened up.
"I've sent for you, Mr. Cartwright," he began, "to tell you that I
don't want any proceedings taken about this matter."
Cartwright opened his mouth and stared at the admiral in surprise.
Then he began to imagine he understood. Sir Richard Dunn had
evidently been somewhere on the night of his disappearance which
would not suit him to have known.
"Ah, I see," said Cartwright, with a subtle smile.
"I've my own notions as to the brand of justice dispensed in this
State, Mr. Cartwright. It is considerably milder than the native
liquors. I want your assistance in doing without the law, and in
administering justice myself. Have you any notion of the gentleman
who shipped me in the _California_?"
"It was probably a boarding-house master," said Cartwright.
"Of course."
"It might have been Sullivan, or the Sheeny, or Williams, or Smith."
"Is that the scoundrel they know here as Shanghai Smith?" asked the
admiral.
And Cartwright nodded.
"The crew of the _California_ put it down to him at once."
"I don't know that it was necessary him," said Cartwright pensively;
"though he has the worst name, he's no worse than the others. For my
own part, I reckon the Sheeny--he's a Jew boy, of course--is a deal
tougher than Smith."
And just then Selwyn, who knew the chief of police was on board, put
his head into the admiral's cabin.
"Could I speak to you a moment, Sir Richard?"
And Dicky Dunn went outside.
"I thought as you had this Cartwright with you, sir," said Selwyn,
"that I ought to tell you a queer yarn that has just been brought me
by one of the quartermasters. It seems that one of the men has a
story that you once had a fight with Shanghai Smith and hurt him
badly. It was in Australia I believe--in Melbourne."
"Stay a minute," said the admiral; "let me think. Yes, by Jove, I
did have a row on Sandridge Pier years ago, and I broke the man up so
that he had to go to a hospital. And his name--yes, it _was_ Smith.
Thanks, Selwyn, I'll see if this man ever was in Australia."
He went back to Cartwright
"Now as to the Sheeny, admiral," said Cartwright, who was beginning
to feel comfortable.
"Never mind the Sheeny, Mr. Cartwright," said his host; "do you know
Smith's record? Where did he come from?"
"He came from Melbourne," replied the chief.
And the admiral slapped his leg.
"That's the man, I believe."
"Why?"
"Never mind why," said Dunn. "But supposing it was, could we prove
it against him?"
"I doubt it," said Cartwright cheerfully. "Probably no one would
know it but his runner. And Bill Haines would perjure himself as
easy as drink lager."
"But if we did prove it?"
"There'd be an appeal, and so on," said the chief.
He indicated large and generous delay on the part of the merciful
American law by a wave of his hand.
"You see we couldn't prove, anyhow, that he knew you was you," said
Cartwright, "and if I know my own business, it would come down to a
matter of assault and so many dollars."
"That's what I imagined," said the admiral. "So I propose to take
the matter in hand myself and relieve you of it. For though Smith,
or the real man, might come off easily, if I choose to have it made
an international business some one will have to pay who is not
guilty."
"That's likely enough," said Cartwright uneasily. "On the whole,
admiral, I'd rather you took the job on yourself, provided it was put
through quietly. What do you propose?"
Dunn put his hands in his pockets, and "quarter-decked" his cabin.
"I want to be sure it's Smith--morally sure. How can I be made sure?
I'll tell you now what I know about him."
He repeated what Selwyn had said, and told him the story of his
having fought a man on Sandridge Pier at Melbourne fifteen years
before.
"His name was Smith."
"It fits as neat as a pair of handcuffs," said the chief of police.
"I'll think over it and let you know. Stay, sirree, I've got it now.
Look here, admiral, now you mark me. This is a scheme. It'll work,
or my name's Dennis. I'll have it put about in the right quarter
that though there ain't evidence to touch the real man who worked the
racket on you, it is known who actually corralled you and shoved you
on the _California_. I'll get the proper man to give it away that a
warrant is being made out. And next day I'll have all the runners of
all the chief boarding-houses arrested. Do you see?"
"No, I don't," said the admiral.
"Oh, come," cried Cartwright. "The man we don't arrest will be the
man who done it."
"Yes, but----"
"Well," said Cartwright, "I understood you didn't particularly hanker
to catch the under-strapper."
"Ah," said the admiral, "of course I see. You mean----"
"I mean the boarding-house boss will shove the runner that did it out
of sight. And then you'll know him by reason of the very means he
takes not to be given away. For of course he'd reckon that the
runner on being held would squeal."
"It's a good plan," said the admiral. "And when I know, what kind of
punishment would Mr. Smith like least of all?"
"Provided you remember he's an American citizen, I don't care what
you do," replied the chief. "But if you asked me, I should get him
served the way he's served you. Shanghai Smith among a crowd of
sailormen in an American ship, such as the _Harvester_ (and the
skipper of the _Harvester_ hates him like poison)--and _she_ sails in
three days--would have a picnic to recollect all his life. For you
see, they know him."
"I'll think it over," said the admiral. "Your plan is excellent.
"So it is," said Cartwright, as he was rowed ashore, "for Smith ain't
no favourite of mine, and at the same time it will look as if I gave
him the straight racket, anyhow."
He sent an agent down to the water front that very night. The man
dropped casual hints at the boarding-houses, and he dropped them on
barren ground everywhere but at Shanghai Smith's.
"Jehoshaphat," said Smith, "so that's the game!"
Peter Cartwright had, in his own language, "reckoned him up to
rights"; for the very first move that Smith played was to make a
break for Billy's room. As the runner had been up most of the night
before enticing sailormen off a Liverpool ship just to keep his hand
in, he was as fast asleep as a bear on Christmas Day, and he was
mighty sulky when Smith shook him out of sleep by the simple process
of yanking his pillow from under his head.
"Ain't a man to get no sleep that works for you?" he demanded.
"What's up now?"
"Hell is up, and fizzling," replied Smith. "I've had word from Peter
Cartwright that you'll be arrested in the mornin' if you don't skin
out. It's the admiral. I wish I'd never set eyes on him. Come,
dress and skip: 'twon't do for you to be gaoled; mebbe they'd hold
you on some charge till you forgot all you owe to me. There ain't no
such thing as real gratitude left on earth."
Billy rose and shuffled into his clothes sullenly enough.
"And where am I to skip to?"
"To Portland," said Smith; "the _Mendocino_ leaves in the mornin' for
Crescent City and Astoria, don't she? Well, then, go with her and
lie up with Grant or Sullivan in Portland till I let you know the
coast is clear. And here's twenty dollars: go easy with it."
He sighed to part with the money.
"I'd sooner go down to Los Angeles," grunted Billy.
But Smith explained to him with urgent and explosive blasphemy that
he was to get into another State in order to complicate legal matters.
"You've the brains of a Flathead Indian, you have," said Smith, as he
turned Billy into the street on his way to find the _Mendocino_.
"What's the use of havin' law if you don't use it?"
And in the morning, when Smith heard that ten runners at least had
been urgently invited to interview Mr. Peter Cartwright, he was glad
to be able to declare that Billy was not on hand.
"He's gone East to see his old man," he said drily. "And as his
father is a millionaire and lives in the Fifth Avenue, N' York, he
couldn't afford to disregard his dyin' desire to see him."
"You are a daisy, Smith," said the police officer who had come for
Billy. "Between you and me, what have you done with him?"
Smith shook his head.
"I shot him last night and cut him up and pickled him in a cask," he
said with a wink. "And I've shipped him to the British Ambassador at
Washington, C.O.D."
"You're as close as a clam, ain't you, Smith? But I tell you Peter
is havin' a picnic. This admiral's game was playin' it low down on
Peter, whoever did it. There are times when a man can't help his
friends."
Smith lied freely.
"You can tell Peter I had nothin' to do with it."
"Yes, I can _tell_ him!" said the police officer. And he did tell
him. As a result the chief of police wrote to the admiral:--
"SIR,--
"I have interrogated all the runners but one belonging to the chief
boarding-houses, and have succeeded in obtaining no clue. The one
man missing was runner to Mr. William Smith, commonly known as
'Shanghai' Smith. Under the circumstances, and considering what you
said to me, I am inclined to wait developments. If you will inform
me what you wish me to do, I shall be glad to accommodate you in any
way."
"Yours truly,
"PETER CARTWRIGHT.
"P.S.--If you could write me a letter saying you are quite satisfied
with the steps I have taken to bring the offender to justice, I
should be obliged.
"P.S.--If you wish to meet Mr. John P. Sant, captain of the
_Harvester_, now lying in the bay and sailing the day after
to-morrow, I can arrange it."
But both the postscripts were written on separate pieces of paper.
Mr. Cartwright was not chief of police in a land of justice for
nothing. He knew his way about.
Dicky Dunn, on receiving Peter's letter, called in his
flag-lieutenant.
"When they shanghaied me, they knocked you about rather badly, didn't
they, Selwyn?"
Selwyn instinctively put his hand to the back of his head.
"Yes, Sir Richard. They sand-bagged me, as they call it, and kicked
me too."
"I'm pretty sure I know who did it," said the admiral, "and I'm
proposing to get even with the man myself. It seems that it will be
a difficult thing to prove. Besides, I'm not built that way. I
don't want to prove it and send the man to gaol. I like getting even
in my own fashion. What would you do if I could tell you who it was
that laid the plot against us that night?"
Selwyn was a clean-skinned, bright-eyed, close-shaven young fellow,
as typical an Anglo-Saxon salted in the seas as one could meet. His
eyes sparkled now.
"I--I'd punch his head, sir."
The admiral nodded.
"I believe I did punch his head, years ago, Selwyn. But he was
looking for a fight and found it, and ought to have been satisfied.
Between you and me and no one else, the chief of police here and I
have fixed this matter up between us. He says that he has no
evidence, and the only man who might have given the affair away has
been shipped off somewhere. I'm going to show Mr. Smith that he
didn't make a bucko mate of me for nothing. And I want you to help.
I've got a scheme."
He unfolded it to Selwyn, and the young lieutenant chuckled.
"He used to be a seaman," said the admiral, "but for twelve years
he's been living comfortably on shore, sucking the blood of sailors.
And if I know anything about American ships--and I do--he'll find
three months in the fo'castle of this _Harvester_ worse than three
years in a gaol. Now we're going to invade the United States quite
unofficially, with the connivance of the police!"
He lay back and laughed.
"Oh, I tell you," said the admiral, "he ran against something not
laid down in his chart when he fell in with me. You can come ashore
with me now and we'll see this Cartwright. American ways suit me,
after all."
"Then I understand, Mr. Cartwright," said the admiral, an hour later,
"that there won't be a policeman anywhere within hail of this Smith's
house to-morrow night?"
"I've got other business for them," said Peter.
"And I can see Mr. Sant here this afternoon?"
"I'll undertake to have him here if you call along at three."
He spent the interval at lunch with the British Consul.
"I tell you what, Stanley," said the admiral, "I don't care what they
did to me, for it's done me no harm. But after this you should be
able to make them enforce the laws. If they would only do that, the
Pacific Coast wouldn't stink so in the nostrils of shipmasters and
shipowners."
The consul explained the local system of politics. It appeared that
every one with any business on the borders of crime insured against
the results of accidents by being in politics.
"And if the thieving politicians appoint the man to control them,
what's the result?"
"The result is--Shanghai Smith," said the admiral. "Well, I'll see
you later. I've an appointment with Mr. Sant, of the _Harvester_."
The consul stared.
"What, with Sant? Why, he got eighteen months' hard labour for
killing a man six months ago."
"But he's not in prison?"
"Of course not," said the consul. "He was pardoned by the Governor."
"He's just the man I wish to see," cried Dicky Dunn.
He found Sant waiting at Cartwright's office. He was a hard-bitted,
weather-beaten gentleman, and half his face was jaw. That jaw had
hold of a long cigar with his back teeth. He continued smoking and
chewing, and did both savagely. What Peter had said to him did not
come out, but by agreement the admiral was introduced as Mr. Dunn.
"You have reason not to like Shanghai Smith?" said Peter.
"That's so," nodded Sant.
"Mr. Dunn does not like him either. Could you make any use of him on
board the _Harvester_?"
"I could," said Sant, grinning; "he'd be a useful man."
"If you imagined you missed a man to-morrow morning just as you were
getting up your anchor, and some one hailed you and said they had
picked one up, you would take him aboard?"
"Wet or dry," said Sant.
"I'll undertake he shall be wet," said the admiral. "Eh?" And he
turned to Selwyn.
"Yes, sir," replied the lieutenant, "that could be arranged."
"Very well, Mr. Sant," said the admiral.
"And it's understood, of course," said Peter, "that you gentlemen
never saw each other and don't know each other when you meet, it
being a matter of mutual obligation."
"I agree," said Sant. And the admiral shook hands with a gentleman
who had been pardoned by an amiable Governor.
"And of course," Cartwright added as he escorted the admiral and
Selwyn into the passage, "if there _should_ be a shindy at Smith's
and any of your men are in it, we shall all explain that it was owing
to your having been put away. And two wrongs then will make it
right. I guess the newspapers will call it square."
"Exactly so," said the admiral.
And when he reached the _Triumphant_ he had very nearly worked out
the plan by which the row at Shanghai Smith's was to occur.
"I'll just go over it with you, Selwyn," he said, when he reached his
cabin again. "Now you must remember I rely on your discretion. A
wrong step may land us in trouble with the authorities and the
Admiralty. There never was a Government department yet which
wouldn't resent losing a fine chance of a paper row, and if they
catch me settling this matter out of hand, my name is Dennis, as the
Americans say. And I don't want your name to be Dennis either."
"Well, what do you propose, Sir Richard?" asked Selwyn.
"This is rightly your show and mine," said the admiral. "I won't
have any one else in it, that I can help. I ought to speak to
Hamilton, but I won't. I'll keep him out of the trouble"--for
Hamilton was the captain of the _Triumphant_. "I suppose the men
here _are_ really fond of me?" said the admiral interrogatively.
"They have no monopoly of that," said Selwyn.
"Is there any one of them you could drop a hint to, that you could
trust?"
"Of course," said Selwyn; "there's Benson, whose father works for
mine as gardener. We used to fight in the toolhouse at home, and now
he would jump overboard if I asked him."
"Do you mean Benson, my coxs'n?"
"Yes, sir."
"He's the very man. You might let him know that if he should get
into any trouble, he will be paid for it. I leave the rest to you.
You can go ashore now, with this note to Stanley. That will give you
a chance to take Benson with you and speak to him on the quiet. I
don't know that I care particularly to hear any more about it till
the day after to-morrow, unless I have to. Ultimately all the
responsibility is mine, of course."
And by that Selwyn understood rightly enough that Dicky Dunn, for all
his cunning, had no intention of shirking trouble if trouble came.
He went ashore and took Benson up town with him.
"Do the men think it was Shanghai Smith that laid for us, and put the
admiral away, Benson?" he asked as they went up Market Street.
"There ain't the shadder of a doubt 'e done it, sir," said Benson.
"And they don't like it?"
"Lord bless you, sir. It's very 'ard 'avin' all liberty stopped, but
between you and me it was wise to stop it. They would 'ave rooted
'is 'ouse up and shied the wreckage into the bay."
"It's a pity that you and about twenty more couldn't do it," said
Selwyn. "And if one could only catch hold of the man himself and put
him on board an outward-bound ship, it would do him good."
Benson slapped his leg.
"Oh, sir, there ain't a man on board the _Triumphant_ that wouldn't
do six months with pleasure to 'ave the 'andlin' of 'im."
"No?"
"For sure, sir."
"I was lying awake last night thinking of it,"
said Selwyn; "at least, I believe I was awake--perhaps I was
dreaming. But I seemed to think that a couple of boats' crews were
ashore, and that you went to Shanghai's place for a drink."
"I've done that same, sir," said Benson, "and the liquor was cruel
bad."
"And I dreamed--yes, I suppose it was a dream--that you started a row
and made hay of his bar and collared him, and took him in the cutter
and rowed him round the bay till about four in the morning."
"You always was very imaginary and dreamy as a boy, sir, begging your
pardon, sir," said Benson.
"And I dreamed you came to the _Harvester_----"
"Her that's lying in the bay--the ship with the bad name among
sailormen?"
"That's the ship," said Selwyn; "and you hailed her and asked the
captain if a man had tried to escape by swimming. And he said 'Yes,'
and then you said you'd picked him up."
Benson looked at him quickly.
"But he wouldn't be wet, sir."
"Oh yes, he would, Benson. You could easily duck him over-board."
Benson stared very hard at the lieutenant.
"Of course. I could very easy duck him--and love to do it, too. And
did the captain of the _Harvester_ own to him, sir?"
Selwyn nodded.
"He would, Benson--I mean he did, of course."
"I suppose," asked Benson, with his eyes on the pavement, "that it
had been arranged so?"
"In the dream, yes," said the lieutenant.
"Was it for to-morrow evening, sir?"