Chapter VII: Part 7

"De window, cap," yelled Bahama Bill, and without waiting a moment he sprang through, carrying the sash and glass, shutters, and all with him. Through the opening Smart plunged instinctively, and as he did so he heard the sharp command to halt, followed by the crack of a gun. He had managed to get clear by a fraction of a second, and, landing upon his feet, started after the dark shadow which he knew was the black sailor making for the beach.

V

Down the road Captain Smart ran as fast as he could go, trying vainly to reach the tall form of the mate, who kept the lead easily until the lights of the harbour came into view. Then he slacked up and Smart came up with him.

"Dat sho was fun, hey?" laughed the mate, not the least winded from his dash for liberty. "Cost yo' a hundred dollars to git clear ef dey catch yo'. Dey don't run yo' in fer fun down here. Dat's de _Sea-Horse_. Git inter dat small boat--so."

"How about Journegan? Will they fine him for the fracas?"

"Oh, no. He stands in wid de gang--pays fer de trouble he makes. Journegan is a good man--he's all right."

"He was with the crooks, was he?" asked Smart.

"Oh, yes, he thought you had money--he has to stand in wid de gang. He was mad as er hornet at me buttin' in, but jest couldn't help it. I'll square him some day, an' he knows it. If he didn't know it, he'd 'a' plugged me when dey jumped me. I reckon he c'u'd 'a' done it, all right, for he's a mighty fine shot, dat Journegan. But I sho had it in fer Skinny Ike--he done me onct."

"Seems like a pretty tough bunch of men along the bank here, don't it?" said Smart. "Journegan hinted that there was something done wrong to Mr. Dunn's yacht--he said she must have leaked--what?"

Bahama Bill stopped rowing the small boat. They were half-way to the _Sea-Horse_, and lights were already showing along the shore, telling plainly that pursuit would be made in short order. The tide set them toward the vessel, but Bill gazed steadily at Smart through the darkness.

"Did Journegan say dat?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, and I would like to know what he meant by it."

"You know why he did all dat shootin'--all dat firin' to hit nobody? Dat was jest to get the place pulled--pulled before you made a gitaway, toe git your money. He knowed you an' me were enemies--knowed dat yo' had it in fer me, knowed dat I wrecked Mr. Dunn's yacht, an' dat yo' sho had no claim wid me--an' dat's where he made a mistake----"

"You wrecked the schooner?" cried Smart.

"Sho, cap, I dun wrecked her. Don't yo' remember de day--de night--I came abo'd, harpooned by a fool Yankee mate? Well, I was pullin' a seam dat night--dat's what made her leak----"

"You are a devil--the blackest rascal I ever met. You can take me ashore, I won't have anything more to do with you--turn about."

"Not a bit--no, suh. Yo' goes wid me dis trip, sho."

Smart hesitated not a moment, but sprang overboard and struck out for the shore, calling loudly for help.

Bahama Bill sat gazing after him for a moment, swearing deeply. Then he carefully shipped the oars, stood up, and the next moment plunged over the side after him. In a few rapid strokes he came up to the sailor. With one mighty arm he circled the swimmer, holding his arms to his sides as easily as though he were a child. With his other hand he struck out lustily for the sloop and gained her side, where two heads peered over looking at him.

"Pass a line, quick," he called.

A line dropped instantly over the side and fell within reach. Smart was quickly trussed and hoisted aboard and the mate climbed up after him.

"Put de mains'l on her--heave her short--jump!" bellowed Bahama Bill, at the same time casting off the gaskets from the boom and throwing the beckets off the wheel.

A Dutchman, Heldron by name, and a Conch called Sam, sprang to obey. The sail went quickly up with a clucking of blocks and snapping of canvas. Then in came the anchor, the three men hauling line with a will. One man loosed the jib while another sent it up with a rush, and just as the sweeping strokes of a pursuing oar fell upon their ears the _Sea-Horse_ stood out the nor'west passage and to sea.

"Where's Sanders?" asked the mate.

"Oh, de cap'n, he dun take de mon' he get an' go to Tampa on de steamer this night. He say he goin' to do somet'in' to dem big hotels Mr. Flagler builds--dem dat run de gamblin'-houses. Won't be back fer a week."

"Cap," said Bahama Bill, casting Smart adrift, "yo' kin go below an' put dat money in de co'ner of de right-han' locker--no use yo' tryin' to swim away wid it. Yo' an' me is goin' to the Bank fer a bit o' work--dat's it, Sam, hook de boat as we come past--pass de painter aft, an' let her tow."

Smart saw that he was caught fair enough. To resist was only to make more trouble. He was broke, anyway, and without a berth. He might just as well try wrecking for a change--why not? Yes, he would go below and turn in without more ado. He had forgotten the money he had taken from the game at Journegan's, the money which belonged to the mate of the _Sea-Horse_. No wonder Bahama Bill had jumped in after him and brought him aboard. It was easy to see that in spite of all Bill's apparent carelessness he took no chances as he saw them. The _Sea-Horse_ was standing out, and there was no chance of spending the night in the lockup. After all, it was pleasanter out here in the brisk sea air, even in the company of such men. He went slowly below.

"Turn in the po't bunk, cap," came the mate's big voice down the cuddy.

Smart did so, and he fell asleep while the wrecking-sloop rose and plunged into the short sea.

VI

"I reckon we're about dar, cap. Dem masts stickin' up yander air de fo' an' main' o' de brig _Bulldog_. We skinned her clean, took a share ob de salvage, an' cleared fo' town." Thus spoke Bahama Bill, resting one hand upon the wheel-spokes to hold the _Sea-Horse_ and sprawling upon the deck. The sloop was approaching the edge of the Great Bahama Bank, and the shoaling water told of the coral bottom.

"Well, what are you going to stop here for, then?" asked Smart. Although he had decided to cast in his lot with Bahama Bill temporarily he was averse to wandering about on the old _Sea-Horse_ for any length of time. He was anxious to hunt a berth as navigator upon some ship of size. Nassau was close at hand, not fifty miles away, and there were many ships stopping there.

"I'll tell yo', cap--I'll tell yo' jest what I want yo' to do fer me," said the big black. He rounded the sloop to, and Sam let go the anchor, while the Dutchman Heldron hauled down the jib.

The _Sea-Horse_ dropped back with the sweep of the current and wind, until she lay just over the mainmast of a sunken brig, which stuck out of the water at a slant, the top coming clear some twenty feet to port of her. The wreck was lying upon her bilge and heeled over at a sharp angle, the partners of the mainmast being about ten feet below the surface.

"I heard yo' tell Stormalong Journegan you'd been down in a diving-suit, de kind dey use in de No'th--hey? Yo' know about rubber suits an' pumps?" He looked keenly at Captain Smart while the seaman told him that he had heard aright. He had been in suits, and helped others diving in them. He thought he knew something about air-pumps.

The mate went below forward, and shortly came on deck with a complete rubber diving-suit, helmet, and weighted shoes.

"I don't go in much fer dis kind ob divin'," said he, "but I dun paid a fellow a hundred dollars fer de whole suit. Show me how to work it, an' show me how dat pump works. Ef yo' do, we'll go halves--break even--on what I think is below in dis hear wrack. I knowed yo' must know something erbout divin'--dat is, erbout rubber divin', which ain't divin' at all, but dat's what I want ter know."

"I thought you said the wreck was finished with?" Smart commented.

"All de money, all de coin was got out ob her, yas, suh, dat's all straight, but dishar wrack ain't been under water more'n a few months, an' I been thinkin' dat maybe some hard work would tell on some cases of ammunition left in her."

"What did she have?"

"Rifles, money, and provisions for Vensuela--some ob dem revolutionists had de charter. Dey took up de rifles, and dey took up de money, but dey left a lot ob ammunition in her, sayin' it ain't no good. Well, suh, I got a hole in mah shoulder where one ob dem bullets came troo--yo mind de little fracas at Stormalong's. I dun sold a feller a dozen boxes ob dem ca'tridges, de onliest .45's in Key West. Dat's de reason I cum to know somethin' about dem. Ef dey kin mak' a hole in me, dey kin mak' a hole in mos' enny one, I reckon--hey, what?"

"I see," said Smart. "And that's the reason you wanted me to help you out? You want me to help dive for the goods. How much is there--and how were they put up? They won't stay for ever any good under water, you know."

"Dey were put up in tins too big to handle, goin' naked like I dives. De cases were mighty big, an' I don't care much erbout smashin' 'em up wid de 'tarnal things ready to go off. I knows where dey is--way back in de lazarette 'way back aft, an' I knows dat dere's erbout a millun ob dem."

Smart had been overhauling the suit and found it to be in fair condition. Evidently some hard-up diver had sold out to Bahama Bill, who always went naked as deep as three or four fathoms, and could stay long enough under to do the ordinary work required of divers upon vessels on the reef. He could make two or three minutes' work at short intervals, and being a mighty man, the strain told upon him very little indeed.

The rubber part of the suit was just about right for a man of Smart's build. It would not begin to go upon the giant frame of Bahama Bill. The great mate of the wrecker very well knew it, and he knew also that he could never get any of his men to go down in it. They knew nothing about such gear, and the very sight of it filled them with dread. It was up to Captain Smart to make the effort, if effort there was to be made.

In the meantime Bahama Bill would go down once or twice to locate the place in the wreck to work upon. It would require careful work not to explode the cases in blowing out a hole in the bilge to make an entry; further, it was impossible to think of going down the hatchway aft, for the distance was too great.

It was upon this vessel that the mate of the _Sea-Horse_ had had trouble before, being chased into her by a shark and barely escaping with his life. He knew her pretty well, and could locate the ammunition in a couple of dives. After that Smart could take his time in four fathoms and work the stuff out to hoist aboard, using as little dynamite as possible.

"How about the pump?" asked Smart, after he had overhauled the suit.

The machine was brought on deck. It was dirty and much out of order, but after an hour's work he had it so it could be relied upon for the shallow water. For greater pressure than four fathoms he would not have cared to test it with himself upon the bottom.

While he was refitting it the mate stripped and stood upon the rail ready for the plunge. The water was clear and the bottom could plainly be seen, the varicoloured marine growths making it most beautiful.

Bahama Bill dropped outboard, and went down with a plunge so light that he hardly disturbed the surface. The others, watching, saw him swim rapidly down under the bends of the wrecked ship, leaving a thin trail of bubbles.

He was only down a few moments this dive, and came rising rapidly to the surface, his ugly face showing through the clear liquid, his eyes wide open and gazing upward.

"Gimme a piece ob chalk, Sam," he said, as he came into the air again.

A piece was handed him, and he went below again and marked the spot where the hole would be blown in the vessel's side, and in the meantime Smart donned the diving-suit.

The Dutchman Heldron had never even seen a suit of this kind before, and his messmate Sam gazed at it with a sort of superstitious dread.

"Yo' sure ain't goin' under in that outfit, cap?" he protested, as Smart put on the shoes weighing fully twenty pounds apiece. "Man, them slippers will sure hold you to the bottom!"

"I guess you dummies will have sense enough to haul me up when I pull the line and signal," remarked Smart. "Now, give me the helmet and screw down these bolts." He had the head-piece on by the time Bahama Bill came on deck and surveyed the proceedings.

"I'll have to trust you to tend the lines," said Smart to the black giant. "Remember, now, one strong pull and you haul me up--not quickly unless I give three quick pulls afterward. Two pulls is to slack away, one on the hose is to give me more air, and two to give me less. Understand?"

Bahama Bill wiped the water out of his bleary eyes and nodded. He apparently had some misgivings about the concern, but he was far too careless of human life to express them. He coupled up the air-hose and started the pump, and the whistling inside the helmet told of the wind coming in behind the diver's head.

Smart held the front glass ready, and after being satisfied that the machine was working, he had Sam screw it on and Captain Smart was cut off from the wrecker's crew, his face showing dimly through the thick glass plate. The heavy leaden belt was fastened tightly about his waist and he stepped over the rail on to the little side ladder, and so overboard, letting himself slowly down until he swung clear of the sloop's side. Then he was lowered away and went to the bottom, Bahama Bill slacking off the life-line and hose until he saw him standing upon the coral bank some twenty-five feet below the wrecker's deck.

Heldron turned the air-pump and Sam made fast the charge of dynamite, fixing the wires of a "Farmer's Machine" into the mercury-exploder and wrapping the whole tightly in canvas made fast with marline, the whole weighted so that it would sink quickly.

He lowered the charge, and saw Smart's hand go out and receive it. Then the diver disappeared under the bilge of the wreck, leaving a thin trail of boiling water just over his head to tell of the escapement of the air.

VII

Having fixed the charge where the mate had marked the surface of the wreck, Smart started to walk away. The light was strong in the clear water, and he gazed about him at the beautiful coral formations. The heavy growths took on many-coloured hues, and he walked out among them to admire them as one would the scenery on shore.

An albacore darted past like a flash of silver light. In the shadow of a huge sponge an enormous grouper took shelter, his eyes sticking out and gazing unwinkingly at the apparition of the man upon the bottom.

Smart went toward him and gave him a gentle poke, and in doing so gave the lines a sudden jerk. Instantly he was lifted off his feet and drawn upward, for Bahama Bill had felt the pull, and lost no time hauling his man aboard. Luckily the depth was not great, or the sudden change of pressure would have hurt.

Smart came to the side gesticulating wildly, and the more he waved his hands the quicker he was yanked up. In a moment the mate had him on deck, and was unscrewing the front glass.

"What's de matter, cap?" he asked anxiously, when the diver's face appeared.

"Nothing; you fellows make me tired!" said Smart. "Go ahead and fire the charge."

The spark was sent along the wire, and a dull crack sounded from below. The water rose in a boiling mass astern, and spread out, churning and bubbling. It was not a large charge, and it had not been necessary to move the sloop.

Smart started Heldron again at the pump, and screwed on the glass. Then, taking his tools and a line, he went back to the work below.

The hole blown in the wrecked hull was quite large for the amount of powder used, but the splintered edges made it necessary to be careful on entering, on account of the air-hose and line. A swirling of disturbed water still made the light bad, but Smart, feeling the edges with his hand, stepped within the darkness, and proceeded to explore the interior of the lost ship.

He climbed slowly upward, dragging his lines after him, and stumbling over a mass of timber which obstructed the way. He was in the after-part of the brig, the part where the dead wood, narrowing toward the stern-post, made a difficult passage to go through. He went along carefully, feeling for dangerous projections which might entangle his air-hose. The ammunition was supposed to be in the lazarette, under the cabin flooring, and he made his way in this direction.

Owing to the darkness, he was some time locating anything in the way of cases. Finally, however, he felt the square ends of boxes, and made haste to break one open. There were cans of tomatoes, or some kind of food, in the first one, and he felt along farther. Then he came in contact with a bulkhead. As it was inky dark below in the bilge of the sunken ship, he had to do all his work by means of the sense of touch alone. He couldn't see his own hand upon the glass of his helmet.

Something brushed against him and nearly upset him. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling, and a longing for the sunshine upon the sea floor of the Bank. He was not of a nervous temperament, and he knew that some sea denizen had evidently made the brig his home. Perhaps some spawning grouper or huge jew-fish.

Feeling along the bulkhead, he came upon a lot of small boxes. One of these he took under his arm and backed slowly out of the hole and into the clear water of the Bank. He laid the box upon the sea floor, and broke the covering with his hammer, hitting it lightly, the resisting power of the surrounding medium making it difficult even to strike at all. He tore away the fragments of the lid, and saw rows of cartridge-clips, the whole fixed and packed carefully. Making fast a line to the case, he signalled to hoist away, and brought his find to the surface.

The stuff proved to be all right. On breaking open a cartridge, the powder appeared dry, in spite of the long submergence, showing how carefully the ammunition had been put up. The dipping of the bullets into tallow had made the cartridges absolutely airtight, and they were as good as new.

The usual cost of ammunition was about two cents per cartridge wholesale. Half a million rounds would make quite a fortune, or something in the neighbourhood of ten thousand dollars to divide between himself and the black mate. Yes, it had been worth while, after all. Wrecking was not such a bad thing, if there was anything worth wrecking, and he wondered how the salvors of the brig had overlooked such a valuable asset. Even if he had to divide with the former owners--which he probably would not--he would have something worth going below for.

"Git de stuff--we'll ship him to Noo York," said Bill. "Ought to cl'ar a bit on dis hear deal. Dey's got de Winchester mark on dem, an' dat goes wid de agents, so do de Union ca'tridge. Git de stuff outen her, cap, fo' we cayn't stay here long--it's comin' on bad befo' dark, an' dere'll be too much sea to work ag'in fer a week."

Smart lost no time getting back to the lazarette of the brig. He took his line with him, and, after fastening it to some of the cases, he signalled to haul away.

Case after case he removed in this manner, and, after being below nearly an hour, he began to feel the effects of the pressure. He concluded to go up and rest for a short time before finishing the job. He hauled a lot of boxes together and lashed them firmly with a line, and signalled to haul away. He felt the pull, the tautening of the rope, and the cases slipped from under his hand. He straightened up and started to follow.

Then he felt the whole side of the ship suddenly fall toward him. It seemed like a mass of stuff, chest upon chest, toppling down upon him, and, before he could make even the slightest movement to get away, the whole pile of cases rolled over him like a great wave.

He was thrown upon his back, and a heavy weight rested upon the lower part of his body. He tried to move, and found himself jammed fast. Feeling nervously for his life-line and hose, he saw they were clear. He would not suffocate for awhile, anyway. He pulled lustily upon his life-line, and felt the strain of Bill's strength upon it, but it failed to move him. He was afraid the line would cut into his suit with the enormous strain.

He pulled the signal to slack away, but the men above were evidently excited, and they pulled all the harder. Then came a sudden slacking. He reached up and drew in the end of the life-line. It had parted near his helmet.

In the blackness of the sunken wreck Smart felt his nerve going. It was a bad place to have trouble. There was no other suit, no other machine or outfit for a man to go to his assistance. He might live for an hour longer, or perhaps even two, but the end seemed certain unless he could free himself from the mass of cargo which had so suddenly piled down upon him.

It had been one of those accidents which are likely to happen to any one working in the darkness of a ship's hold where the cargo is not known, or not located by previous knowledge of the ship's loading.

He had evidently unshipped some of the ammunition-cases, and brought a mass of boxes of both provisions and cartridges upon him like an avalanche. His right arm was free, but his left was crushed under some mighty weight, and hurt him painfully. The air still whistled into his head-piece, showing that Heldron was working the pump steadily.

Bahama Bill was a cool hand, a man used to desperate emergencies, and Smart felt that the giant mate of the _Sea-Horse_ would do what he could to set him free. He knew the black diver to be a mighty swimmer. He had cause to remember that fact, but it was far away from the surface where he now lay, and it looked as if he would have to pass in, to die the terrible death of the lost diver.

His imagination held him thinking, in spite of the pain and weight upon him. He could breathe easily, and the numbing effect of the pressure made his sufferings less than otherwise. He tried again and again to shift some of the cases, straining until the stars flashed into the darkness before him. It was useless. He could not budge anything.

The minutes seemed hours, and he began at last to feel the drowsy effect of the air too long driven into his lungs. He saw the beach, the white coral sand--then he was again at Key West.

VIII

Upon the deck of the _Sea-Horse_ the men gazed blankly at each other when Bahama Bill hauled up the life-line, parted far below. Heldron stopped pumping, and Sam gave an exclamation.

"Keep dat pump workin'; keep it goin', I tell yo'," snapped the black mate, turning upon his man.

Heldron instantly turned away again, rapidly, sending the air below.

"Name ob de Lord--now whatcher make wid dat?" said Bill, looking at Sam.

"Gone fer sure," said Sam. "I wouldn't go down in them lead shoes for no money. I done knowed something like this would happen."

"I t'ink I don't need to give no more air, den," said Heldron.

"You turn dat pump, yo' blamed Dutchman, or I'll turn yo' hide wrong-side out, yo' hear me," snarled the mate. "Gimme a heavy line, Sam; gimme something I can't break--jump, yo' Conch!"

"Goin' after him?" asked Sam, hauling the end of the mainsheet clear to the rail. "I don't think you kin get him. Better leave him down; them shoes is enough to hold him. I'd hate to lose the cap'n, but he's gone for sure!"

The huge form of the mate balanced for an instant upon the rail. He cleared enough line to take to the bottom, and had Sam stand with coils of it ready to pay out. Then down he went with the end of it, swimming strongly for the hole in the bilge of the brig. The opening showed before him, but he hesitated not a moment. He swam straight into the black hole, butting his head against the carlines under the half-deck, but keeping straight as he could for the diver by following the air-hose with his hand.

It was a long swim to the place where Smart lay. A full minute had been taken up before the mate felt the contact of the metal helmet. He passed the heavy line under it, but found his wind giving way under the strain. Quickly following the air-hose out, he struggled for the clear water, and came to the surface with a blow like a grampus. He had been down two minutes and a half.

Sam seized his hand and helped him aboard, where he lay upon the deck, bleeding, a slight trickle from the corner of his ugly mouth and from his nose.

"You can't make it, Bill," Sam declared. "Let the poor devil go. You done the best you could."

"I stop now wid de air, hey? Wat you says, Mr. Bill?"

Heldron's query aroused Bahama Bill. "If you slack up on dat pump, yo' dies a wuss death 'n Cap'n Smart," he said wearily, and in an even tone. It was evident that the strain had been hard on him, but he was game.

In a minute he sat up.

"I get him dis hear time," he growled, shaking himself and standing upon the rail again.

His giant black body twitched, the huge muscles under the ebony skin worked, flowing, contracting, and slacking up, making a wavelike motion, but showing the mighty power which lay in his frame. He was getting worked up to a nervous pitch, and the trembling was not from weakness. It was the gathering power in his thews which was beginning to work.

He flung far out, and dropped straight downward with a pitch-pole plunge, going furiously down like some monstrous sea-demon. Only a flash of his black body showed before he had turned the bend, and was following the air-hose into the hole.

This time he saved many seconds. He reached the form of Smart, and caught the end of the mainsheet about him, quickly slipping a hitch. Then he hauled himself out into the sunshine again, and came rising like a fish to the surface. In a moment he was back aboard the _Sea-Horse_, and then he spoke.

"Git on to dat line, yo', Sam ... git hold quick ... I got him ... give him de air, yo' Dutchman. ... An' now fer a heave what is a heave."

With a mighty effort the two men threw their whole weight upon the line. It held. Nothing gave for a moment. Bahama Bill, bracing his naked feet upon the rail, bent his mighty loins, and took a deep breath.

"Heave-ho!" he bellowed, and set his muscles to the strain.

Sam lifted with all his force. Almost instantly the two of them plunged backward, and fell over each other on deck. The line became slack, but before they could get to their feet, Heldron had left the pump and was hauling in hand-over-hand, and in a moment the form of Smart showed below the surface.

The black mate sprang to his feet and gave the Dutchman a cuff which sent him over the side, and, seizing the line, he hauled the limp form of the diver on deck quicker than it takes to tell it. In a moment he had the glass off the helmet, and was staring into the white face of the insensible seaman.

"Get somethin' to drink--quick," he said.

Sam rushed for a dipper of water, and, upon bringing it, was knocked over the head with it for his pains.

"Yo' bring me somethin'--quick--yo' understand," roared the mate. "I knows yo' got some forrads--now, then, jump!"

Sam quickly brought a bottle of gin, half-full. Smart had some of the fiery liquid poured between his lips. Then Heldron, who had scrambled back aboard, cursing and spluttering, came aft, and helped them to get off the suit.

It was half an hour afterward before the captain came around enough to tell what had happened. His left arm was badly mashed, but not broken. The heavy suit had not been cut through, and to this fact he owed his life. His legs were stiff and sore from the heavy weight which had lain upon them, but he was otherwise uninjured.

"I reckon yo'll be able to go down ag'in in a little while," said the mate. "We got most of the stuff, I reckon, but we might as well take all dat's dere."

"How many cases have we?" asked Smart.

"'Bout fifty--nearly a million rounds, an' all good."

"Well, that's all we'll get to-day," said Smart, "unless you want to take a try at it."

"Toe bad, toe bad," muttered Bahama Bill. "I'se sho sorry you's sech a puny little man, cap, but de wedder is gittin' bad, ennyways, an' I reckon we might as well make a slant fer Nassau."

"That'll about suit me, all right," said Smart.

XI

The Iconoclast

The wrecking-sloop _Sea-Horse_ came smashing the seas headlong past Fowey Rocks, heading for the channel over the reef into Bay Biscayne. She had left Nassau the day before, and had made a record run across the Gulf Stream, carrying sail through a heavy head sea, which flew in a storm of white water over her bows and weather-rail all day, making the deck almost uninhabitable. Bahama Bill, otherwise known as Bill Haskins, wrecker and sponger, mate and half-owner, held the wheel-spokes, and sat back upon the edge of the wheel-gear, bracing one foot to leeward. Sam, a Conch, and Heldron, a Dutchman, both sailors and able seamen, lounged in the lee of the cabin-scuttle and smoked, their oilskins streaming water, but loosened on account of the warmth of the air. Captain Smart, late of the Dunn schooner wrecked just below Carysfort Reef, on a cruise to Boca Grande Pass for tarpon, sat in the doorway of the companionway and watched the giant mate of the _Sea-Horse_ hold the flying sloop on her course with one powerful hand, while with the other he shielded his pipe from the spray.

Smart was thinking over the strange events which happened to bring him in contact with the wreckers: the loss of his schooner caused by the leak made by Bahama Bill; the loss of his position as officer on the liner he had left to take command of the yacht, and the strange fight in the saloon at Key West, which ended in his going with the giant black to keep out of trouble.

They had now just ridden out a bad spell of weather in Nassau, where they had laid up with cartridge-cases taken from the brig _Bulldog_, wrecked on the Great Bahama Bank, and they were hurrying to the nearest American port to discharge them to some dealer, and realize what profits they could. The ammunition was perfectly good and sound, in spite of being submerged under the sea for a long time, for the cases had been put up for tropical weather and made perfectly water-proof. They had several thousand dollars' worth aboard, and it would only be necessary to prove their fitness for use to realize upon them. To Miami they laid their course without delay, to get in touch with the express and railroad.

"Seems like we got to git thar to-night, sure," said the mate, sucking at his pipe.

"Looks like we'll make it easily," assented Smart. "I suppose you know the reef well enough to go in any time, hey?"

"Jest as well at night as daytime," said the mate.

"And when we get in--what then? Do you know any one who'll deal with us? Do you know who'll buy ammunition from you even at a twenty per cent discount?" asked Smart.

"I reckon we won't have to burn any of them ca'tridges, cap; not by a blamed sight. We might have to wait a spell fo' suah, but we kin sell 'em, all right."

"Got enough money to live on while we wait, hey?" asked Smart.

Bahama Bill scowled. Then he gave the captain a queer look.

"See here, cap," he said. "Yo' know Bull Sanders is skipper an' half-owner of this here sloop? Well, he's on a tear up the beach. If he comes back broke he'll want toe borrow off'n me--see? Well, I knows what that means. I jest naturally sent all the money abo'd to my Jule--yo' ain't married, cap, or you'd know what a wife means. 'Scrappy Jule' kin take keer of all de money I gets, an' yo' needn't make no moan toe dat. Jule is all right, an' if yo' got a right good memory, yo' suah remember she don't do no washin' fo' po' white folks."

"I suppose that means that the ten-spot I saved from the fracas in Journegan's barroom is all the cash aboard, then," said Smart.

He was thinking how strange it was for him to be associating with a self-confessed wrecker of the old school, the type which waited not for the elements, but made events happen with a rapidity which put even a stormy season to shame.

He would have liked to get away from the whole business, get away from men of Bahama Bill's class, but he could not help thinking that the giant black man had some cause, according to his way of looking at things, to do as he had done.

The yacht owner had insulted him, had made it an open question of hostility between them, and the wrecker had simply gone ahead and regarded the owner's feeling not at all, but caused by indirect means the loss of his vessel.

Bill had many good points. He had helped Smart out of a difficult situation in Key West, where the land-sharks had set out to trim him clean. He had put him in the way, almost in spite of himself, of making a few thousand dollars within a week or two, and had saved his life by diving into a dangerous wreck after him when caught in her shifting cargo.

Smart was in a strange position, almost dead broke, with several thousand dollars' worth of salvage due him from his efforts. He would be tied up with the sloop for several weeks, perhaps several months, until the sales were made and the salvage divided. To leave her would risk losing the share due him, for Bahama Bill would hardly stand for desertion until the affair was settled, no matter what the provocation.

They beat in over the reef, up the crooked, shallow channel into Biscayne Bay, and laid their course for the docks at Miami, where they arrived during daylight.

Two days were spent trying to make the sales of the cargo, but the dealers insisted on testing the powder from each and every case before paying, or taking it on, so there was a delay of at least two weeks staring them in the face. The crew having enough to eat minded the waiting not the least. The mate cared nothing as long as the ultimate end was in sight, for he had enough hog and hominy aboard to last twice as long.

The sloop lay off the docks in a scant seven feet of water, her keel just grazing the coral bottom, which was as plainly visible beneath her as though she were surrounded by clear air instead of the clearer water of the bay. The huge, fashionable hotel loomed high against the background of palms and cocoanuts, making an impressive sight, and also a comfortable abode for the rich tourists who filled it during this end of the season. Prices were high, and Smart spent much time watching the idle rich wandering about the beautiful gardens.

Several gambling-joints were in full blast, for it was always the policy of the eminent Florida philanthropist who owned the tourist accommodations on the east coast to build a church upon one side of his dominions, and then a gambling-hell upon the other. Both were necessary to draw the lazy rich.

Smart noticed several of the sporting gentry wandering about, but, having nothing to gamble with, he was forced to look on with little interest.

On the third day of their stay in harbour, a man sauntered down to the dock close aboard, and stood gazing at the _Sea-Horse_. He was perfectly dressed in the height of fashion, and he swung a light cane lazily while he gazed at the wrecker. He wore a thin moustache, and his high, straight nose seemed to hook over it to an abnormal extent. His eyes were a very light blue, so pale that they appeared to be colourless, but he had an altogether well-fed, well-satisfied look; one of seeming benevolence and kindliness, which attracted Smart's attention. Smart and the mate of the _Sea-Horse_ were sitting upon the cabin-house in the shade of a drying trysail, and the stranger spoke to them.

"Sloop for charter?" he asked abruptly, in a high voice, which carried over the short distance of water with some force.

"What fo'?" asked Bahama Bill, without moving.

"Oh, we want to fish and shoot. I don't care for the yachts for hire; their owners don't seem to know where to go to get sport. I'd rather charter from a man who knows something of the reef to the southward, and you look as if you belong around here."

"Yo' sho' got a bad guesser in yo' haid, Mister Yankee," said the mate. "What make yo' think we belongs around here?"

Smart studied the man carefully while he was talking. He was a close observer, but he failed to place this suave, well-groomed gentleman in his vocation. He might be a gambler, a sport, or just a rich fellow wanting amusement. The latter seemed most likely, so Smart spoke up, hoping to land a few dollars while waiting for his share of the salvage.

"We'll charter for thirty dollars a day," he said reluctantly, and, as he did so, the black mate gave a grunt and grinned insultingly at the shore.

"Will you go anywhere we want?" asked the man.

"Sho' we will dat, perfesser," broke in Bahama Bill, unable to restrain himself at the thought of the graft. The idea of thirty dollars per day was good, and he slapped Smart a terrific blow upon the back in high good nature at the thought of it. "Sho', perfesser, we'll carry yo' toe hell--an' half-way back, fer thirty a day. Are yo' on?"

There was a slight sneer on the man's face when he heard the mate's manner, but he answered quietly, in the same far-reaching voice, that he would consider the vessel his, and that if one of them would come ashore for the money, he would bind the bargain by pay for the first day at once.

At the instant he stopped speaking Heldron the Dutchman came aft to where the mate sat. Bahama Bill at once seized him about the waist and hove him far out over the side.

"Git that money, yo' beggar," he laughed, as the sailor landed in the water with a tremendous splash. Sam, the Conch, snickered. "Yo' go after him, toe see he comes back," said Bill, and, making a pass at the man, sent him over also. They swam the distance in a few moments, much to the amusement of the gentleman on the wharf, who seemed to like the mate's energetic manner of doing things. The money was paid, and the men swam back aboard, climbing into the small boat towing astern, and coming over the taffrail none the worse in temper. There was good money for all in the deal, and they were pleased.

II

In about an hour the man returned with a friend, both of them loaded with fishing-rods and other parts of a gentleman's sporting outfit. They were rowed aboard by the mate, and announced that they were ready at once to get to sea. The mainsail was hoisted, and in a few minutes the wrecking-sloop was ready to stand down the channel.

Just at this moment the gentlemen, who had been arranging their fishing-rods and clothes upon the transoms in the cabin, came on deck and said that they had forgotten to bring any provisions for the cruise. The second man declared he had ordered a large box sent aboard, and asked with some anxiety if it had arrived.

"There ain't nothing come abo'd sence yo' left," said Bill surlily, annoyed at the delay. "We's got good grub abo'd here, an' enough fer a week."

"You will pardon me, my good fellow," said the second man, who was very tall and thin, with a lined face. "You know, or should know, I'm an invalid, and cannot eat the ordinary food which I love so well. It is for this that we have taken the boat. Won't you allow me the use of your crew to help carry the provisions aboard? We expect to be out for several weeks, and must have plenty of the kind of food I am forced to eat."

"Yo' don't look so very puny," said Bill; "but, o' co'se, if youse an invalid, yo' sho'ly wants toe git some soft feed. We eats hoag an' hominy abo'd here, an' I tells yo' it's mighty good hoag; costs me seven cents a pound."

The small boat was called away, and, with Sam and Heldron to help carry the provisions, the two gentlemen went ashore again.

Half an hour passed, and Bill was getting surly. The tide was falling, and the chances of hitting the reef were good. The wind dropped, and the surface of the bay was just ruffled by it. Far away to the southward the little hump of Soldier Key stood out above the surrounding reef, and the tall palms of Florida Cape seemed to be motionless.

"What the name o' sin d'ye think dem folks is doin'?" said Bahama Bill finally, rising from the quarter and gazing toward the shore. "I sho' likes toe make money easy, but when I gits de sail on dis hear ship, I likes toe see her go. Gittin' hot, an' de wind's dropped. I hate to run that channel on a fallin' tide without wind enough to drive her good an' strong over dem shoal places. Hello! what's dat?"

Smart looked up, and followed the direction of the man's gaze. A wagon was tearing down the street at a breakneck pace, and upon it were the two gentlemen who had chartered the sloop. Sam and Heldron sprang up from the dock to meet them as the vehicle drew up, and with a great show of haste all four men were struggling with a small but apparently very heavy box.

In a few moments, in spite of its weight, it was being lowered into the small boat, and Smart noticed that when all hands sprang in, she was nearly gunwale down with the cargo. The men rowed as though urged to their utmost, and in a few minutes the boat was alongside.

"Didn't want to keep you waiting," cried the tall, thin-faced man.

"No," said the man who had chartered the sloop, "we knew you would hate to be delayed, so we hurried." His benevolent expression beamed up at the mate, but Smart noted that every now and then his pale eyes shifted uneasily toward the dock, where the wagon was still standing unattended.

A line was cast over the side, and Bill took hold to hoist the box on deck. He gave a tug, and then stopped suddenly.

"What in thunder yo' got toe eat in dere?" he growled. "Dat's lead, sho' 'nuff lead, an' no mistake. We got sinkers enough abo'd here fer all de fishin' yo'll do dis spring. Sam! Heldron, yo' Dutchman! Cap'n, come, all hands git a hold an' h'ist away. Man, I nigh broke my pore ole back wid de heft ob dat box."

They all tailed on to the line, and hoisted the box on deck.

"Get it below," said the man with the moustache and pale eyes; "we'll give you a hand."

In a few minutes the weighty box, which appeared to be of wood, was landed safely below in the cabin. The gentleman opened a small bottle of liquor, and offered a drink all around. It passed until Bahama Bill came to it, and he silently uptilted the bottle and drained it to the last drop, flinging it up the companionway and overboard.

"Good!" cried the gentlemen together. "Now for the open sea. Let's try to find out how quick we can get from here to the end of the reef." And suiting the action to the words, they sprang up the companionway, followed by the mate, who was now in a better frame of mind.

"Git de hook off'n de groun'," bawled Bill. "H'ist de jib." And he hauled flat the mainsheet, and rolled the wheel over as the short cable came in and the anchor broke clear.

Smart hoisted the head-sails, and they filled away for the open sea.

Smart sat aft upon the taffrail, and the two guests settled themselves upon boxes which Sam brought out in place of chairs. Bill held the wheel, heading the _Sea-Horse_ down the narrow channel. She moved slowly in the light air, and the thin-faced man stretched out his long frame and looked her over critically.

"Seems like she isn't very fast," he remarked to his pale-eyed companion.

Bahama Bill looked at him a moment, but said nothing.

"Pretty dirty sort of ship, hey?" said the thin fellow again, in a low tone.

The mate was about to make some reply, but Smart nudged him, and he relaxed into a scowl.

"Aw, well, I reckon we'll make it all right," said the pale-eyed man, his face beaming satisfaction and his high nose sniffing the salt air.

"With a decent boat, yes," said the other, "but this one's mighty rough. I never saw a more poorly rigged affair. Seems like she's rigged from the wrecks of other vessels. Don't look like she'll make six knots."

Bahama Bill grunted, but Smart nudged him again, and he said nothing. The yacht captain knew that gentlemen would not stand for rough talk from men of Bahama Bill's type, and he did not want to lose the charter. It meant plenty of money and comfortable living until he could get his salvage.

"Let them talk--don't butt in--say nothing," he admonished Bill, in a whisper.

The big mate heard, but seemed resentful. "What dey want toe knock my ship fo'?" growled the giant. "Ain't she a good sloop? Ain't she done her work all right every time? She's paid me good money, me an' Bull Sanders--no, I don't like no knockin' goin' on abo'd here."

"Cut it out, keep quiet--we get the money if you do," said Smart. "What good will it do you to get them angry, so they won't want to charter us again? Man! it's good money, thirty dollars a day--let it go at that."

The pale-eyed man looked at the mate. "It's about dinner-time, isn't it?" he asked. "We're mighty hungry, and if you can let the cook get to work, we'll be ready."

"Where's the soft grub fo' dat invalid?" growled Bahama Bill. "I thought he couldn't eat hoag an' hominy--Heldron, yo' Dutchman, git the fire started an' let the perfessers eat as soon as yo' kin."

They were well down the channel now, but Smart, on looking back, saw a small schooner making sail hastily. She started off, heading in their wake, and about a mile astern.

The passenger with the pale eyes watched her sharply for some moments, and the benevolent expression faded from his face. The thin man, the invalid, started up and gazed at her, but was pulled down again by his companion.

"That fellow astern," said the charterer, his high nose sniffing sneeringly at the schooner, "thinks he has a smart vessel, and bet us this morning that he could beat this old sloop to the Fowey Rocks. Don't let him come up on us whatever you do. I'll give you ten dollars extra to-day if you run him out of sight before dark."

"Looks like a smart vessel," said Bahama Bill, gazing aft. "I ain't much at racing, but give this sloop a good breeze, an' maybe you'll land yo' money."

The passengers ate their meal, and to the credit of the invalid be it said that he ate more of the "hoag" than his companion. He also put away an immense portion of the hominy, and his thin face seemed less wrinkled when he appeared on deck to take a look at the schooner.

Smart watched the following vessel, and saw that she was gaining. The expression of the pale-eyed man was even more sinister than before, and the quiet, urbane look gave way to one of ferocity. The high, thin nose seemed like the beak of some bird of prey, and the moustache bristled with anxiety and apparent vexation. The thin-faced invalid's expression was also one of evident concern, the lines of his face drawing tighter as the distance lessened between the two ships.

"Who's that fellow that looks like the marshal abo'd the schooner?" asked the mate.

"Oh, that's a friend of mine. He dresses up like that when he goes hunting or fishing. He used to be in the army, and he likes to wear the clothes like a uniform," said the thin-faced man.

"Speaking of the army," said the pale-eyed one, "that puts me in mind of that little Colt automatic-gun I have. They use them now in the service, and say they carry like a rifle. I believe I'll take a pop at Charlie just to scare him, hey? It won't hurt him at this distance, anyway."

"By all means," laughed the thin-faced man, "take a try at him. It'll scare him to death, I bet you."

Bahama Bill eyed the men curiously, but as it appeared to be none of his business whether they indulged in rough play, he said nothing. Smart was too engrossed to notice that the pale-eyed man had drawn a large automatic pistol, and was resting it upon the rail, until he had pulled the trigger. The sharp, whiplike report without any smoke startled him. The shrill whine of the projectile whistled over the water, and the man who stood upon the schooner's deck quickly disappeared. In a few moments the "cheep" of a rifle-bullet cut the air, and "spanged" with a thud into the mainmast, followed by a faint crack sounding over the sea.

The pale-eyed man fired six shots in answer now, and they came so quickly that there was hardly a second between the reports.

"What yo' doin', havin' a gun fight?" roared Bill. "What yo' mean by shootin' a fellow up what ain't doin' nothin' but sailin' after yo'? What's de lay? Sing out."

The pale-eyed man turned his gaze upon the giant mate, and, as he did so, he shoved another clip of cartridges into his weapon.