THE RED-HEADED MAN MAKES AN ACCUSATION
"That's all very pious and according to Hoyle," said Captain Riggs,
breaking into wrath as Meeker finished his prayer over the body of Trego.
"But I'd have you know, sir, that the _Kut Sang_ is no bally chapel, and
I don't take murder aboard me as a regular custom, and let it go at that.
Somebody will have to answer for this at the end of a rope, or my name's
not Riggs. Hereafter when there's praying to be done I'll order it."
"I was merely speeding a departing soul," said Meeker.
"That's all very well, Mr. Meeker, but I've got to see what this is all
about, and why--Mr. Trego is supercargo in charge of the ship and--"
Riggs stopped suddenly when he realized that he had told us the secret
which Trego wished kept from us.
"Well, I've got trouble enough," he said, confused at what had happened.
"Nothing irregular, I trust," said Meeker, raising his eyebrows in mild
surprise and observing me cautiously.
"Too blasted irregular to suit me," said Riggs. "Gentlemen, I may as well
tell you that this man is down on the passenger-list as a passenger like
yourselves, but at the last minute before we sailed he showed papers as
supercargo and announced that he was in charge of the ship, and that he
represented the charter party. The truth of his statements was borne out
by a messenger from the owners. He told me that he would explain it all
as soon as we got to sea, and now he has been killed. Is it any wonder I
am upset about it?"
"It is passing strange," said Meeker. "Will you have to turn back to
Manila on account of this?"
"My last orders to proceed to Hong-Kong at the best speed still stand.
The Dutchman, Rajah--the Dutchman," and he made a sign to the Malay boy
to call the second mate.
The three of us gathered at the end of the table and steadied ourselves
in the minute we waited for the Dutchman, who soon came clumping down the
passage. He nearly stumbled over the body lying just outside the coaming
of the door, and then stopped and stared at the dead man.
"Gott!" he said, and then looked at Riggs questioningly.
"Take the bridge and have Mr. Harris muster the crew--all hands, and look
sharp," said Riggs. "Have every man Jack of 'em up here, and let us see
what they have been about. Have Mr. Harris muster the crew! Hear me?
Don't stand there like a barn-owl! Relieve Mr. Harris, and have all
hands aft!"
He hurried away, and that was the last I ever saw of the second mate of
the _Kut Sang_. Rajah and a Chinese sailor spread old canvas close to the
door inside the saloon, and lifted Trego's body on it.
Harris came up the passage and leaned against the door. He had on an old
pair of dungaree trousers and a jacket that had been white, and his bare
feet were thrust into native heelless slippers.
"This is a nice mess, ain't it?" he growled, looking coldly at the scene
before him. "Who let the knife into him?"
"That's what we want to find out at once," said Riggs. "Have all hands up
here, the watch below and all. Muster them in the passageway, and let
them in here one at a time, the white hands first. We've got to get at
the bottom of this affair right away, Mr. Harris."
"Like as not somebody'll know the knife, cap'n," suggested the mate.
"That's it, Mr. Harris. Bring 'em up here with a sharp turn and no laying
back, and you be here so I can find out what every man has been at in the
last quarter of an hour--you know what this means."
We sat down at the table, Riggs at the end in a pivot-chair swung toward
the door of the passage. He took off his glasses and wiped them in an
officious manner, and sent Rajah for a pad of paper and a pencil.
"Then this poor Mr. Trego was not a passenger," said Meeker, leaning his
elbows on the table and scanning Riggs closely.
"Gentlemen," began the captain, clearing his throat and adjusting his
silver-rimmed spectacles again, "I am going to hold an inquiry now, and,
as witnesses to what takes place, I think you should know the facts in
the case, as far as I know them.
"There is something about this business that has carried by with me.
Never had anything like this happen aboard me in the thirty years that
I've had a command. First time since I've had a master's ticket that I
haven't had the full confidence of the owners.
"This man Trego was very mysterious, and why he wanted to sail as a
passenger when he was supercargo, and keep it from you, gentlemen, is
past me. Perhaps I should not have said anything about this end of it
until I have examined his papers, but as witnesses I want you to know the
facts as they lay."
"A most mysterious affair--most mysterious," agreed Meeker, shaking his
head and fingering his shell crucifix. "What are the details of the man's
coming aboard, captain? I am not quite clear on that point."
"He was down as a passenger, just as you gentlemen are. I never saw him
before until Mr. Harris called me forward before the lines were cast off.
He told me that this man wanted to take charge of lading the last of the
cargo--cargo that was manifested as machinery. His papers were right, and
the messenger from the owners made it all as he said.
"It is not for me to question the acts of the owners, but I should have
been advised of the circumstances. However, Mr. Trego was going to
explain. It may be all right and nothing out of the ordinary, but now
that this has happened I'm all back, and I'm left to guess what it all
means if I can."
"What was the cargo?" asked Meeker.
"Machinery, so far as the manifest says. Several cases--By George! He had
it stowed in the storeroom--"
He was interrupted by Harris bawling in the passage, and the Chinese
stokers swarming up the fire-room ladder, chattering and yelling to their
mates below. The news of the murder had spread through the ship and had
created a great turmoil.
The mate thrust a man into the doorway, whom I recognized as one of the
men who had brought Meeker's organ on board.
"Here's one of the new men, sir," said Harris, "Says he has been for'ard
since going off watch. He's next at the wheel, sir."
"Now, then," began Riggs, with pencil poised, "what's your name in the
ship's articles?"
"Buckrow, sir," said the sailor, staring at a lamp, and avoiding the
figure of Trego almost at his feet.
I observed him closely, and was not pleased with his appearance. His
large mouth carried a leering, insolent expression and his nose was
broken, hanging a trifle to one side. He was short, with great hulking
shoulders. His black shirt was open at the neck, and he wore blue navy
trousers with the familiar wide bottoms. His brown forearms were covered
with tattoo-marks.
"Tell all you may know which could throw any possible light on this
dreadful affair, that the guilty may be brought to justice and the dead
avenged," said Meeker.
"Steady as she goes!" warned Captain Riggs. turning in his chair and
holding up his hand. "I'll ask the questions, if you please, Mr. Meeker.
Now, then, my man, where have you been in the last hour?"
"For'ard, turned in, sir," replied Buckrow, keeping his eyes on the flame
of the lamp.
"See this dead man here?"
"Aye, sir."
"No, you don't--look at him! Did you have a hand in this?"
"No, sir." He took a quick glance at the dead man and fastened his eyes
on the lamp again.
"Know who killed him?"
"No, sir."
"That's all for now."
Harris led forward the tall cockney I had seen at the wheel. He said his
name was Crannish, and he spelled it for the captain, who examined the
crew list to verify him. He said that he was known as "Long Jim" by his
mates. He did not seem to take the murder as a serious matter, but
answered Captain Riggs's questions calmly, his eyes roving over the
interior of the saloon, taking us all in very coolly.
There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he looked at Meeker, as if
he thought it a joke that the missionary should be sitting on an inquiry
board. Meeker returned his gaze in a disinterested manner, swaying in his
chair with the motion of the ship, and fumbling his shell crucifix, as if
it was a talisman to guard him against danger.
Crannish was dismissed, and the next was Petrak. He impudently winked at
me as he stepped into the light, and hitched up his trousers in a
nonchalant manner that was amusing. He had his shoes in his hand, and he
had evidently dressed in a hurry to obey the summons of the mate.
"Petrak's my name, sir, and they make a joke on my head by making me out
'Dago Red,' sir. Been bos'n in--"
"He was relieved at eight bells, sir; has the wheel in the Dutchman's
watch," explained Harris.
"Where did you go then?" demanded the captain.
"Turned right in, sir, after a bit of a wash."
"Where were you at one bell?" put in Harris, giving the captain a
significant look.
"For'ard in my bunk, sir."
"You lie," drawled Harris coldly. "Ye passed the galley ports a minute or
so after one bell was struck. I saw ye."
"Not me, sir; never anything like that, sir, beggin' ye're pardon."
"Yes, ye did, and don't ye lie to me," retorted Harris. "Ye didn't go
right for'ard when ye come off watch. I heard ye yarnin' with Buckrow, or
what's his name, just after ye passed the galley. Yer phiz showed plain
to me as Cape Cod Light on a clear night."
"Where's your knife?" said Riggs suddenly, leaning forward and peering at
his belt.
"Left it in my bunk, sir. Top one, first to port as ye go down--right at
the head it is, sir, in some straw."
"Send a man for it, Mr. Harris. Is it in the sheath, you Petrak?"
"Can't say, sir," said Petrak, looking about nervously, and feeling at
his belt.
"Can't say! Can't say! You can't say because that's yer knife right there
under yer eyes! That's yer knife and you killed this man!"
"Tell the truth, my good man," interjected Meeker, holding up his hands.
"Tell the truth and--"
"Belay!" yelled Riggs. "You speak when ye're spoken to, Mr. Meeker, if
you please!"
"No offence intended--purely involuntary on my part. I beg your pardon,
my dear sir."
"That's your knife and you killed him," repeated Riggs to Petrak.
"Never killed him, sir, and nobody else, strike me blind if I did, and
that's the truth, sir," said Petrak doggedly, but in spite of his brave
showing there was a whimper in his voice and his knees trembled. "Did you
have an accomplice?" asked Meeker, and I thought I saw some sort of a
signal pass between them.
Buckrow arrived from the forecastle with a leather sheath and a knife in
it. He handed it to Harris.
"There's my knife!" yelled Petrak. "That's it, just as I said, and Bucky
found it in my bunk where I said it was, strike me blind!"
Captain Riggs was nonplussed for a second at this, and he hesitated. Then
he looked at Buckrow, who was trying to get past Harris into the passage
again.
"Buckrow! Wait a minute, my man! Where's your knife?"
"My knife?" said Buckrow in amazement. "My knife?"
"Yes, the knife you had when you were here first. Where is it now? It
ain't in your belt."
Buckrow reached to his hip, and consternation pulled his face into
varying expressions as he found his sheath empty. But we knew his
astonishment was simulated.
"Damme if it bain't gone! Some of them cussed chinks must 'ave a tooken
it. It was--"
"That's all very well," said Riggs. "The redheaded one is our man."
"Where's that bleedin' knife?" said Buckrow, fumbling at his belt.
"Never mind that," put in Riggs. "That's your knife there in the red
fellow's sheath, and this is settled until it is turned over to the
judge. Put this man Petrak, or whatever his name is, in irons, Mr.
Harris; and you, Buckrow, you know more than you'll tell. Mind what
you're about or you'll be clapped in irons, too, along with your mate
here. Have the body wrapped with some firebars, Mr. Harris, to be buried
in the morning. That's all. Double irons, Mr. Harris."
"I never done for him, and that gent knows it," wailed Petrak, as Harris
put his hand on his shoulder to take him away. To my amazement, Petrak
pointed his finger at me.
"What's that?" said Riggs sharply.
"Tell all you know, my good man," said Meeker despite the caution Riggs
had given him about interfering.
"The gent in the white suit knows all about it. I done for this chap,
and the writin' chap, that I brought his bag aboard, paid me for it. Said
he would, and gave me some of the money on deck to-day. You saw him,
cap'n--you saw him hand-in' me the silver, sir. He's in it, too, and--"
"Why, my dear Mr. Trenholm!" exclaimed Meeker, getting to his feet,
aghast at the accusation of the little red-headed man. "My dear sir, I
could hardly believe such a thing of you! And we dined with you--"
"Here, you hold up," shouted Riggs. "What does this mean, Mr. Trenholm? I
remember now that I did see this man taking money from you and I told you
not to be tipping the crew. What have you to say?"
"He was to give me ten pound--"
"Shut up!" roared Harris to Petrak.
"What have I to say?" I gasped, astounded at the turn of affairs and
hardly able to believe what I heard from Petrak. "I know nothing about
it! The man must be crazy!"
"I am not so sure of that," retorted Riggs. "I must confess, Mr.
Trenholm, that I was somewhat surprised to find that you carried two
pistols, and you must admit that you brought this man on board with you.
You seem to know him."
"Know him! The little rat has been following me about Manila all day! I
thought I was to be rid of him until you took him as a member of the
crew--"
"Ten pound I was to get for a killin' of that chap there," shrieked
Petrak. "That's what he was passing me the silver for this day, sir.
They'll hang me now--they'll hang me!"
"It looks very awkward for you, Mr. Trenholm," said Meeker, sadly.
I was about to denounce the missionary and tell him how I had seen him
and Petrak together much in Manila, but I was so angry for a minute that
I thought it better to hold myself in check for the time.
I stood before them for a few seconds, wondering what I should do, and
then my rage got possession of me, and I reached for a pistol, intending
to hold Meeker under the muzzle of it and make him confess his true
character and admit that Petrak was his friend rather than mine.
As I threw my hand back, my wrist was seized and I turned to see Rajah
behind me, holding my arm in a firm grip. He menaced me with his kris
and grinned calmly.
"My dear Mr. Trenholm," said Meeker, smiling blandly. "One crime should
serve your purpose for this evening, it seems to me."
Captain Riggs stepped up and relieved me of my pistols, and I knew that I
had made a fool of myself by attempting to draw the weapon.
"I am very sorry about this, Mr. Trenholm," said the captain.