A CRITICAL MOMENT
"Brack, as I remarked before, you are a smart fellow. Were you putting
me off the scent when you said the man I am looking for went off in
the tramp?" said Hackler.
"I never said he were the man; I said there were a man went off with
the boat's crew to the tramp."
"I gave a description of him."
"It seemed like him to me," said Brack.
They reached the harbor; Brack pulled in his boat; Hackler stepped in
and was rowed toward the tramp. The dirty looking steamer was farther
out than anticipated, and Brack took his time; his practiced eyes
discerned something invisible to Hackler.
"Steam up," said Carl.
"Most likely she'll be going in an hour or two."
"I wonder what she put back for?" said Hackler half to himself.
"Short o' coal," grinned Brack.
"Shut up and don't be a fool," growled Carl.
Brack could see the steamer as he looked sideways over his shoulder. A
humorous smile stole over his face.
"She's movin'," he thought.
There was a stir at the stern of the tramp, the screw revolved, she
was steaming away, and Carl Hackler was too late. When he recognized
this he lost his temper; he had taken his journey for nothing.
Catching sight of Brack's face, he fancied he detected laughter there;
this did not improve matters.
"Confound you, I believe you knew she was going!" he said angrily.
"Not until the screw turned," said Brack.
Hackler stood up in the boat and waved; some one on the tramp answered
the signal but she continued on her way.
"D----n the fellow, why doesn't he stop!" raged Carl.
"Looks suspicious, but he doesn't know who you are. If he did he'd be
sure to slow down," said Brack.
Carl turned round quickly; he had an idea he was being chaffed and
didn't like it. He stumbled, barked his leg on the seat, fell forward,
and sprawled in the bottom of the boat. He did not know a sudden spurt
by Brack caused this.
He floundered about, smothered his rage as best he could, then ordered
Brack to row him back.
"Hope yer not hurt," said Brack sympathetically.
No answer was vouchsafed to this polite inquiry.
"Looks as though he might be aboard that tramp," said Brack. "They got
off pretty sudden; perhaps you were recognized."
"Who'd have recognized me?" asked Carl.
"Him as yer looking for."
Carl laughed.
"Not likely; I don't think he ever saw me."
"But you've seen him?"
"Scores of times."
"You'd know him again?"
"Of course; he's easy to recognize. But they've probably got him by
now."
"Poor chap."
"Call him that, do you? You'd not do it if you knew what he was there
for."
"Tell me."
"He shot a man whose wife he had been carrying on with. It was a
brutal, cold-blooded murder. The husband found them together; they
were fairly trapped, so the fellow shot him."
"Funny he should carry a revolver about with him," said Brack.
"It wasn't his revolver, it was the husband's; that's why he was
reprieved. It was argued that the weapon was in the room, that on the
spur of the moment he picked it up and shot him."
"Oh," said Brack meditatively. "I suppose it never occurred to you, or
the larned judge, or the blessed jury, that some one else might have
shot him."
Carl laughed.
"Who else could have shot him?"
"It's not for me to say; I'm not clever enough. She might 'a' done
it."
"Who?"
"The wife."
"What nonsense! He confessed he did it."
"Eh!" exclaimed Brack.
"I say he confessed he fired the shot."
"And he says he's innocent," said Brack.
Carl stared at him.
"Says he's innocent!" he exclaimed. "How do you know?"
Brack saw his mistake and quickly covered it.
"I lived in Yorkshire at the time. I know all about the trial; I read
it."
"Oh," said Carl. "If you read it you know more about it than I do."
"Very likely," said Brack as the boat went alongside the steps.
Carl landed; he gave Brack half a crown.
"Five bob," said Brack.
"But you didn't go to the tramp."
"I couldn't; she was away."
"Then you can't claim the lot," said Carl, who was annoyed at missing
the steamer.
"I suppose not exactly," drawled Brack, "but betwixt gents, I should
say it holds good."
Despite his annoyance, Carl could not help laughing.
"I suppose you must have it," he said, and handed him another
half-crown.
"Goin' home to-day?" asked Brack.
"Home!"
"To Dartmoor."
"That's not my home."
"It's where yer located, at any rate."
"I don't know. There's no trace of the man. It's queer where he's got
to; I fancy he's dead--fallen down a mine, or been starved out."
"That's about it," said Brack. "Fancy looking for him round here!
Seems a bit soft to me."
"You take a lot of interest in this man," said Carl eying him closely.
"No more than I do in any man who makes a fight for liberty."
"Would you let 'em all loose on Dartmoor?" sneered Carl.
"I'd chance it if there were any innocent men among 'em."
"There are none."
"There's one I know of."
"Who?"
"My brother Bill."
Carl laughed as he said: "Your brother Bill was lucky not to be
hanged," and walked away.
Brack scowled after him and muttered: "And you'll be lucky not to be
drowned if yer not careful."
When Brack arrived home he told Hector Woodridge what happened.
"By gad, he gave me a shock when he came to the door this morning,"
said Brack. "You must wait for to-night; I'll come and fetch you if
the coast is clear. You'll have to trust me, leave it all to me."
"I will," said Hector. "I can do nothing for myself."
"You can do a lot. If there's danger keep cool and don't betray any
alarm--face it out."
"I place myself entirely in your hands," said Hector.
There was no chance that night. Brack stayed about the harbor until
ten o'clock. Just as he thought the opportunity favorable Carl Hackler
turned up, and Brack made for home, thinking he had not been seen. He
was mistaken.
"Something mysterious about the old fellow lately," thought Carl. "He
can't know anything; it's absurd, of course; but I'll swear he put me
off the scent about that tramp. Confound him, he's a shrewd 'un, he
is. It's my belief No. 832 is in Torquay somewhere. There'll be a
shindy if he gets away, because he's got a lot of rich relations I
believe; somebody's sure to say it's a put up job. There wasn't any
put up business about strangling that dog; I can't help admiring the
fellow for that. He bore a good name in the prison too."
"No go to-night," said Brack as he came in, "but I've got a bit of
news."
"What is it?" asked Hector.
"I've won the first part of my bet with The Rascal."
Hector could not help smiling; it seemed a curious piece of news under
the circumstances. He said: "I hope you'll win the double."
"It'll mean a fiver to me," said Brack, "and that's a lot to a poor
man."
"You shall have a pocket full of fivers when I prove my innocence,"
said Hector.
"I'd not take 'em," said Brack. "I'd be satisfied to know I'd done you
a good turn, that I would," and he meant it.
Next evening Brack was very well pleased with himself when The Rascal
won the double. He proceeded to draw his money and enlighten the
youthful bookie on the follies of gambling; he also exhibited some
liberality in the matter of drinks to several mates.
He saw nothing of Carl Hackler, although he walked about the streets
and loitered near the water.
"I'll try it to-night," he thought. "The races are over and maybe the
_Sea-mew_ will sail before morning. There's no telling, and it's the
best chance there is; it can't be missed; it's too good, even if we
run some risk. If I only knew where that Dartmoor chap was. I'd give
half my winnings to know--I'd give the whole blessed lot to get him
safe on that yacht."
Brack went home full of his plan, and how best to manage it without
exciting suspicion.
It was after ten o'clock when he slipped out of the house. Hector
Woodridge followed at some distance, keeping him in sight.
"He's going to the harbor," thought Hector. "What will he do there?"
Brack looked round in every direction as he went down the steps and
hauled in his boat. It was no unusual thing for a boat to go out at
night to a man-o'-war, or to some craft lying in the bay, but he was
not fond of such work and knew if any of his mates saw him it would
attract notice. Looking up, he saw Hector leaning over, and beckoned
him to come down.
"Once we're out of the inner harbor there'll not be much danger," said
Brack. "Chuck that waterproof over yer shoulders; it'll keep yer warm
and it looks seaman-like. Now we're ready."
"Hallo, Brack!"
He looked up and saw Carl Hackler on the steps peering at the man in
the boat. Brack had wonderful control. It was a matter of more than
life or death to Hector Woodridge; if Hackler got him he would be sent
back to his living tomb, for such it was to him.
"Oh, it's you!" said Brack with as much contempt as he could master.
"And pray what are you doing here? Want another trip in the bay? If
you do, jump in and I'll take you. I've got the mate of the _London
Belle_ here; he's a bit overseas and I'm taking him out. Ain't that
right, Harry?"
"That's the job, Brack, that's it," hiccoughed Hector, who guessed the
danger was great.
"I've half a mind to come," said Carl, not quite satisfied, but
utterly deceived by Brack's cool manner.
"You'll have ter make up the other half quick," said Brack.
"I'll leave you to it. Mind your mate doesn't fall overboard," said
Carl.
"I'll see to that," said Brack.
A hoot came across the bay, a peculiar sound. Brack knew it; it came
from the _Sea-mew_.
He sat down and pulled his best. Would he reach her in time?
Carl Hackler watched the boat until it was out of sight.
The hoot came again.
"What's that steamer sounding?" he asked a sailor close to him.
"The _Sea-mew_; she'll be leaving to-night, I reckon."
Carl started. Was it possible? No, of course not. What a fool he was;
and yet, Brack was rowing as though his life depended on it.
"Better make sure," he muttered, and turning to the boatman said:
"Will you row me out to the _London Belle_?"
"Yes, sir, how much?"
"Half a sovereign," said Carl.
Another hoot came across the bay from the _Sea-mew_.