WHAT JARROW WANTED AND WHAT HE GOT
Captain Jarrow spent an hour or two loafing about the schooner and
swearing under his breath as he regarded the shore, where the crew
was going through mysterious incantations.
But Trask understood that Doc was initiating them into the
mysteries of smelting out gold from sand. To all appearances, it
was utterly devoid of anything approaching gold.
Finally, after a conference with Locke and Marjorie, Trask put
before the captain the matter of bringing Dinshaw back. But Jarrow
was inclined to be sulky about it. He objected to having "it put up
to him to bring the fool aboard," as he expressed it.
"None of us will leave the schooner under the circumstances,"
declared Trask.
"But I want the cook," said Jarrow. Trask had joined him on the
forecastle and the others remained in the cabin.
"The cook stays right here with us," said Trask. "I don't intend to
take a chance at losing another man."
"You don't seem to look on me as worth much," said Jarrow, as he
gazed at the column of smoke which rose straight in the air and
hung over the island like a volcanic vapour, spreading out into a
funnel-shaped cloud.
"If Peth was willing to put you on board, I don't see that he'd
interfere with you if you went ashore," said Trask. "As I see it,
you can pull over, get Dinshaw, and come back. You don't need to go
near that gang on the beach."
"Can't ye let me have the gun?"
"No." Trask walked away from Jarrow, satisfied that the captain
would take no action so long as there was a possibility of
continuing the argument.
Not long afterward, while the three in the cabin were playing cards
and Tom was preparing lunch, Jarrow came shambling aft, and without
a word went over the side and into the long boat. When Trask went
out on deck the captain was pulling slowly for the shore, making a
course to land near where Dinshaw was toiling in the broiling sun
at his sand piling.
All hands deserted the cabin to see what would happen. As the boat
approached the beach, Doc was seen to leave those about the fire,
and proceed toward Dinshaw, with the avowed purpose of heading the
captain off.
Jarrow made his way leisurely, and ran the boat on the shingle. He
stood watching Doc and waiting for him, and when the steward had
come close and stopped as if in doubt as to what the captain's
attitude would be, Jarrow beckoned him on with a peremptory
gesture.
There was a parley, which ended with Doc returning to the fire, and
then Jarrow approached Dinshaw. The old man looked up and waved his
hand as if pointing out the result of his labours.
Jarrow kicked the sand, and got down to examine it. Then he said
something to Dinshaw, and the latter got up and followed him
obediently to the boat. Soon they were heading back for the
schooner, Dinshaw serving an oar.
"What's the news?" asked Trask, as the boat drew near.
"They want to come back," said Jarrow. "Peth sends word that if
you'll take 'em, they'll return to duty if you'll call it square.
Seems like they've tried a wrinkle of burnin' the sand to git gold,
but it won't work, an' they're plumb disgusted."
"We won't take Peth's word about anything," said Trask.
"I guess they got a belly full o' this business," was Jarrow's
comment as he brought the boat alongside. "You make a mistake not
to take 'em up. We'd be in a bad hole here if it come on to blow
hard. Ye better let me signal 'em back."
Trask said nothing to this, but helped Dinshaw over the side. The
old man seemed utterly spent, and appeared to be in a daze from the
sun. He looked about as if he had seen none of them before, and
smiled, whispering something about gold, holding up his hands and
looking at them.
"He thinks the sand is gold," said Jarrow. "I looked it over and
it's no more gold than I am."
Marjorie spoke to Dinshaw, but he merely blinked at her, and she
took him away to the cabin and gave him food and drink.
"What's this Doc said about you cookin' gold out of sand?" asked
Jarrow.
"Brass filings," said Trask, promptly, and took some of the
particles from his trousers pocket and dumped them into Jarrow's
palm. "Had my suspicions of him, and wanted to see if he'd give me
a double cross. And he has the nerve to want to come back!"
Jarrow grinned and examined the grains of brass, and with a remark
that it was all a crazy business, announced his intention of
getting some sleep.
"Call me, Mr. Trask, if this calm breaks, and we'll git out. I'm
disgusted."
Dinshaw had suffered a sort of collapse, or coma, and he was put to
bed likewise. Trask managed to get up an awning, and out on deck,
where they could keep watch on shore, they lunched in comparative
comfort.
Locke, now satisfied that the whole venture was a mad sort of lark,
took it all in jocular mood, and chaffed Marjorie about her desire
to go adventuring in the tropics. But Trask knew that he had been
much more worried than either himself or Marjorie, and that his
sallies were the result of his relief from strain about how things
would turn out for them.
Shanghai Tom had become the pet of the trio, and while he
maintained his outward imperturbability, it was evident that he was
quite proud of his exploit in overcoming and disposing of the
treacherous Doc Bird. Trask had promised him a reward on their
return to Manila, at which he had remarked, "Me no catchum for
cash," and shook his head. The Chinaman either from pique at the
crew's total disregard of him in their plans or from a real liking
for the passengers themselves had lined himself up on the side of
the Lockes and Trask.
The crew deserted their fire and took to the jungle, leaving a pile
of smouldering ashes on the sand, and during the afternoon there
was nothing to be seen of them. The dinghy was in plain sight,
pulled up on the beach, just beyond where they had essayed their
attempts at reducing ore by the "cooking" method.
Trask managed to get a nap lying in a steamer chair under his
improvised awning, for it was agreed that if they had to remain at
their anchorage for the night, he would have to share a watch with
Jarrow.
In spite of the captain's evident desire to abandon the crew to
their fate, Trask still had a lurking suspicion that Jarrow was
more in sympathy with Peth's demands for extra money than his
heated language against the mate implied. And the young man was
determined that he would not relax his vigilance once Jarrow was on
deck again. So while he slept, Locke sat in the doorway of the
cabin and read while Marjorie played solitaire under a corner of
the awning and kept a watch toward shore.
Jarrow appeared late in the afternoon, and was rather morose and
silent. He went out on the forecastle and smoked, scanning the sea
and sky and complaining to himself that there was no wind. The sea
was as smooth as a field of liquid metal, great glassy swells
extending to the horizon all round, glinting in the sun. The heat
was oppressive until the sun dropped to the sea's rim, when dark
wind patches made their appearance to the southward on the surface
of the ocean. But still the calm held.
While the sky and sea were yet suffused with crimson from the
sun's afterglow Jarrow came aft, and without a word to any one, or
even a look, went on the poop, going up the port side.
Marjorie went in and peeped into Dinshaw's room. The old man was
sleeping, breathing gently, but lying like a man utterly exhausted,
flat on his back in his bunk.
As she came out on deck, where Trask and Locke sat watching the sea
and reconciling themselves to another night aboard the schooner in
the bight of the reef, Jarrow's voice came over the cabin trunk in
a low growl as he cleared his throat.
"We better talk this thing over," he suggested.
"All right, captain," said Locke. "Suppose you come down here."
Jarrow appeared at the starboard break of the poop, his hands on
his hips, a cigar aslant in his mouth. He gave the trio a critical
glance, and turned his head toward the island.
"Not much chance to get out to-night," began Locke. "Do you look
for a breeze?"
"I don't look for nothin'," said the captain, without looking at
Locke. "I been thinkin' this thing over," he said presently,
chewing his words with his cigar. "I'm out of pocket on this deal."
"How do you mean?" asked Locke, with a startled glance at Trask. He
had detected a belligerent note in the captain's voice.
"Just this," said Jarrow, with sudden vehemence, slapping his hand
down on the cabin roof, and turning a savage visage at the three
sitting below him: "I come on this trip lookin' to make a piece o'
money. I figured there'd be a couple of weeks here at the
least--you'd go lookin' for gold, an' maybe find it, an' I'd git a
look-in. Now ye want to skip out for Manila again. Where do I git
off?"
Trask sprang to his feet, his face scarlet with rage.
"You sit down, young feller," said Jarrow, holding up a hand for
attention. "Don't go off half-cocked."
"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Locke. His back was to
Jarrow, and he did not get up.
Trask stood glaring at Jarrow with trembling lips and set jaw. The
captain pushed his cap back on his head and puffed a couple of
times at his cigar before he spoke.
"I mean you can't git out of here, wind or no wind, without me.
And what's more, ye won't go when I do but ye'll pay me for my
time, and I'll make it fair enough."
"You're in with Peth!" exclaimed Trask, and made a move toward his
pistol pocket.
"I'm in with Peth," admitted Jarrow. "He didn't work it just the
way I wanted, but now it's come to a show down. This schooner is
for sale for twenty thousand dollars. I guess that's fair enough,
seein' the jam ye're in, and the young lady along."
"I've half a mind to take a shot at you," said Trask.
"Go ahead and shoot," said Jarrow. "That's my chance. I'll risk it.
But you've got to handle the rest of the crew before mornin', don't
forgit that."
"Twenty thousand dollars," said Locke, musingly, and looked at
Marjorie, who stared at Jarrow as if she could not believe her
ears.
"My price," said Jarrow. "I thought I'd say somethin' about it
before the boys come out. They'll be makin' along out this way in a
few minutes. It'll save messin' things up to reach a bargain before
they come."
"The first man that tries to come aboard----" began Trask.
"You can't kill 'em all," said Jarrow, grinning. "Oh, it's cheap at
the price. You'll find it a lot more comfortable to see this thing
the way it lays. You shoot me, and it's all off with ye. The
boys'll just have to boat off down the coast and say ye was lost
with the schooner. That's easy enough."
"You're a murderin' scoundrel," said Locke, quietly.
"I'm out for the coin," said Jarrow. "Work with me, and it'll be
all right."
"Sit down, Mr. Trask," said Locke. "We might as well go about this
in a business way."
"Now ye're talkin'," said Jarrow.
"What's your proposition?" asked Locke. "Tom! Bring me my
cigar-case."
"I'm sellin' the schooner for twenty thousand. I left word in
Manila at your bank that you had a mind to buy, an' you'd pay ten
thousand. That's a fair price. My bank thinks ye're goin to buy,
too, so that's another ten. I won't have no trouble cashin' two
checks on you. I cashed your checks in both banks before we left,
and they're sort o' trained to it."
"You're playing a dangerous game," said Locke. "Do I understand
you're to put us down in Manila and then go up to the banks and
cash checks on me?"
"No," said Jarrow. "You stay here on the island, hid away. If I
don't git the money, it's you who's playin' a dangerous game."
"But how are we to get away from here?" asked Locke.
"We'll send the schooner back, after we've had time to git clear of
Manila. May be five or six days after we git our money, but I'll
send it right enough. Of course, I could ask more, an' take a wide
chance, but I ain't hoggin' things. It ought to be worth gittin'
out without trouble for you folks. And ye'll git some of yer money
back out o' this old wagon. Say the word, an' I'll signal the boys
to come back, all peaceful, an' no shootin'. If ye don't want to
take it my way, I'm done talkin'. The others look for fight, an'
Peth's got my gun's well's his own. So, if you want fireworks, it
ain't my funeral."
"I'll take you up," said Locke, as he reached for his cigar-case.
"You'll let us have Tom--and what we need?"
"Everything ye want," said Jarrow, with satisfaction. "Only don't
come no didoes with me or the checks. If I ain't here to tell Peth
it's all right when he comes alongside, he'll cut loose on ye in
the dark."
"I'm giving you my word that we'll play fair, as you call it.
You'll get your checks, and all I ask is fair play in return."
"My way o' lookin' at it," said Jarrow. "I thought you'd find it a
open an' shut game, an' I spoke as I did so's you'd have time to
pack an' stow the boats, if ye don't want to stay aboard to-night.
But there ain't no call for you leavin' here 'less we git a wind."
"We'll take that up later," said Locke.
"I'd like a letter from you, as how ye've bought the schooner,"
said Jarrow. "Ye can say's ye've decided to remain here, and I'm to
attend to some things in Manila, so's it'll look natural like."
"As you say," said Locke. "If you'll fetch my coat, I'll write out
a check--the checks. And my pen's with the book."
"I'll bring some paper," said Jarrow, with a glance at Trask. "If
you don't mind, unload your gun, and give me the ca'tridges. I'll
turn 'em over to ye when ye leave for the island. How's that?"
"I'll compromise," said Trask. "Suppose Miss Locke keeps the gun?
You'd hardly expect Miss Locke to shoot you in the back, would
you?"
"I'll take the ca'tridges," said Jarrow, coming down and holding
out his hand. "I ain't figurin' on anybody changin' their mind, but
it'll be better to make sure."
"Give him what he wants," said Locke. "We'll play the game as the
cards run."
So Trask took out the magazine, and removed the cartridge from the
chamber of the pistol and surrendered the ammunition.
Jarrow went into his room for the paper, and they heard him
fumbling in the little bulkhead desk.
"No use arguing with a man when he's got the drop on you," said
Locke. "If it wasn't for Miss Trinkets, here, it might be
different. But I'd rather pay up than see anybody hurt."
Trask sat with his empty pistol across his knees, thoroughly
dejected, staring out over the blood-red sea. Already a star, close
to the horizon, had popped out, and the top of the island was
gathering gloom.
"I was a fool ever to take you people on such a wild-goose chase,"
said Trask. "I'll have to pay you back every dollar of this, Mr.
Locke."
"Pay nothing," said Locke.
"I'm the one to blame, Dad," said Marjorie, laying her hand on his
arm. She was quite white, but she smiled faintly. "And you can't
blame yourself, Mr. Trask. It was all my plan from the first, Dad.
We plotted to inveigle you into coming to the island, at least I
abetted Mr. Trask, and I'm glad I came."
"I'm satisfied----" said Locke, with a whimsical smile, and before
he could go on he was interrupted by a scream of rage inside the
cabin.
They all sprang up as Tom dashed from the galley and looked into
the captain's cabin. They saw the white form of the Chinese against
the dark interior, and heard a terrific struggle going on, with the
sound of shoes being hammered against the bulkhead.
As the three pressed in to look over Tom's shoulder Dinshaw leaped
from the deck of the captain's cabin, and yelling like mad, ran up
the companion and dived over the taffrail.
Trask ran after him in time to hear him splash into the water, and
turning to come through the cabin for the long boat, heard Jarrow
sobbing on the deck, and crawling about, or so it seemed, for the
captain's arms were moving like a swimmer's although he was making
no progress forward. And as he struggled, he gave gasping cries.
"What's happened?" cried Locke.
"He killum cap'n," said Shanghai Tom, and stooping down, picked up
a knife. It was a long knife from the galley rack.
Marjorie ran from the cabin, overcome with horror, and Trask
followed, with the intention of getting the long boat away to save
Dinshaw. But as he paused, poised on the bulwark to jump down into
the boat, he looked aft. There was no trace of Dinshaw.
"Go to the taffrail and look," he called to Marjorie. She hastened
to the poop-deck while he got the boat off, which swung with the
tide, and drifted aft as he paddled with the big oar, standing in
the stern.
For an instant there was a white object visible against the dark
water, as if a fish had broken the surface. Whatever it was, it was
being swept away swiftly by the tide. Before Trask could reach the
spot where it had appeared, the water was smoothed out in a steely
sheen. Dinshaw had been whirled away to the coral depths below.
It was growing dark as Trask rowed back. As he came alongside the
schooner he saw Locke standing beside Marjorie.
"Dead," said Locke.
From shore there came a confused chorus of cries. Trask listened,
and across the darkening waters he saw a white spot drifting out
slowly, and then in the evening hush heard the clatter of oars.
"The cartridges!" he cried. "They're coming out, Peth and the
others. With Jarrow dead, we've a fight on our hands!"
He leaped over the bulwark, and dashed into Jarrow's cabin, to
regain the ammunition he had surrendered. A blazing match revealed
Jarrow lying on his back, his face distorted and spotted. Trask
found the cartridges loose in the captain's coat pocket, and
hurried out of the cabin.