After supper about a week later, Denman and Florrie sat in the deck
chairs, watching the twilight give way to the gloom of the evening, and
speculating in a desultory manner on the end of this never-ending
voyage, when Munson again darted on deck, and ran up the bridge stairs
with a sheet of paper, barely discernible in the gathering darkness, and
handed it to Jenkins, who peered over it in the glow from the binnacle.
Then Jenkins blew on a boatswain's whistle--the shrill, trilling, and
penetrating call that rouses all hands in the morning, but is seldom
given again throughout the day except in emergencies.
All hands responded. Both cooks rushed up from the galley, the engineers
on watch shut off all burners and appeared, and men tumbled up from the
forecastle, all joining Jenkins and Munson on the bridge.
Denman strained his ears, but could hear nothing, though he saw each man
bending over the paper in turn.
Then they quickly went back to their places below or on deck; and, as
the bells were given to the engine room, the rasping of the wireless
could be heard.
As the two cooks came aft, Denman heard them discussing excitedly but
inaudibly the matter in hand; and, his curiosity getting the better of
his pride, he waited only long enough to see the boat steadied at
east-northeast, then went down and forward to the door leading into the
passage that led to the galley.
Billings was doing most of the talking, in a high-pitched, querulous
tone, and Daniels answered only by grunts and low-pitched monosyllables.
"_Gigantia_--ten to-morrow--five million," were a few of the words and
phrases Denman caught; and at last he heard the concluding words of the
talk.
"Dry up," said Daniels, loudly and threateningly. "Yes, thirteen is an
unlucky number; but, if you don't shut up and clear off these dishes,
I'll make our number twelve. Glad you've got something to think about
besides that woman, but--shut up. You make me tired."
Denman went back to Florrie somewhat worried, but no longer puzzled; yet
he gave the girl none of his thoughts that evening--he waited until
morning, when, after a look around a bright horizon dotted with sail and
steam, he said to her as she came up:
"Eat all the breakfast you can this morning, Florrie, for it may be some
time before we'll eat again."
"Why, Billie, what is the matter?" asked the girl.
"We've traveled at cruising speed all night," he answered, "and now must
be up close to the 'corner,' as they call the position where the
outbound liners change to the great circle course."
"Well?" she said, inquiringly.
"Did you ever hear of the _Gigantia_?"
"Why, of course--you mean the new liner?"
"Yes; the latest and largest steamship built. She was on her maiden
passage when this boat left port, and is about due to start east again.
Florrie, she carries five million in bullion, and these fellows mean to
hold her up."
"Goodness!" exclaimed the girl. "You mean that they will rob her--a big
steamship?"
"She's big enough, of course, to tuck this boat down a hatchway; but
these passenger boats carry no guns except for saluting, while this boat
could sink her with the armament she carries. Look at those
torpedoes--eight altogether, and more below decks. Eight compartments
could be flooded, and bulkheads are not reliable. But will they dare?
Desperate though they are, will they dare fire on a ship full of
passengers?"
"How did you learn this, Billie? It seems impossible--incredible."
"Remember the gun and torpedo drill!" said Denman, softly, yet
excitedly. "Our being in these latitudes is significant. They put Casey
ashore the other night and robbed the captain and me to outfit him. I
overheard some of the talk. He has reached New York, secured a position
as night operator in a wireless station, studied the financial news, and
sent word last night that the _Gigantia_ sails at ten this morning with
five million in gold."
"And where do you think she is now?" asked the girl, glancing around the
horizon.
"At her dock in New York. She'll be out here late in the afternoon, I
think. But, heavens, what chances!--to wait all day, while any craft
that comes along may recognize this boat and notify the nearest station!
Why didn't they intercept the lane route out at sea, where there is no
crowd like this? I can only account for it by the shortage of stores.
Yes; that's it. No sane pirate would take such risks. We've plenty of
oil and water, but little food."
That Denman had guessed rightly was partly indicated by the action of
the men and the boat that day.
All hands kept the deck, and their first task was to discard the now
useless signal mast, which might help identify the boat as the runaway
destroyer.
Two engineers sawed nearly through the mast at its base, while the
others cleared away the light shrouds and forestay. Then a few tugs on
the lee shroud sent it overboard, while the men dodged from under.
Beyond smashing the bridge rail it did no damage.
The dodging tactics were resumed. A steamer appearing on the east or
west horizon, heading so as to pass to the northward or southward, was
given a wider berth by a dash at full speed in the opposite direction.
Every face--even Florrie's and Denman's--wore an anxious, nervous
expression, and the tension increased as the hours went by.
Dinner was served, but brought no relief. Men spoke sharply to one
another; and Jenkins roared his orders from the bridge, bringing a
culmination to the strain that no one could have foreseen.
The sudden appearance of an inbound steamer out of a haze that had
arisen to the east necessitated immediate full speed. Riley was in
charge of the engine room, but Sampson stood at the hatch exercising an
unofficial supervision; and it was he that received Jenkins' thundering
request for more steam.
Sampson, in a voice equally loud, and with more profanity, admonished
Jenkins to descend to the lower regions and attend to his own affairs.
Jenkins yielded. Leaving Forsythe in charge of the bridge, he came down
the stairs and aft on the run. Not a word was spoken by either; but,
with the prescience that men feel at the coming of a fight, the two
cooks left their dishes and the engineers their engines to crowd their
heads into the hatches. Riley showed his disfigured face over the heads
of the other two; and on the bridge Forsythe watched with the same evil
grin.
But few blows were passed, then the giants locked, and, twisting and
writhing, whirled about the deck. Florrie screamed, but Denman silenced
her.
"Nothing can be done," he said, "without violating the parole; and even
if--"
He stopped, for the two huge forms, tightly embraced, had reeled like
one solid object to the rail, which, catching them at just above the
knees, had sent them overboard, exactly as Sampson had gone before.
"Man overboard!" yelled Denman, uselessly, for all had seen. But he
threw a life-buoy fastened to the quarter, and was about to throw
another, when he looked, and saw that his first was a hundred feet this
side of the struggling men.
He turned to glance forward. Men were running about frantically, and
shouting, but nothing was done, and the boat still held at a matter of
forty knots an hour. Riley grinned from the hatch; and, forward on the
bridge, Forsythe turned his now sober face away, to look at the
compass, and at the steamer fast disappearing in the haze that followed
her.
Then, more as an outlet for his anger and disgust than in the hope of
saving life, Denman threw the second life-buoy high in air over the
stern, and led the shocked and hysterical Florrie down the stairs.
"Rest here a while," he said, gently, "and try to forget it. I don't
know what they'll do now, but--keep your pistol with you at all times."
He went up with a grave face and many heartfelt misgivings; for, with
Forsythe and Riley now the master spirits, things might not go well with
them.