Chapter IX: Part II (2)

To make to the eastward of the lightship was well enough, but to fetch to the westward was the one thing that has always made Boldwin nervous, and rightly so. If he missed it going to the eastward, he would pick up some other landfall to the northward, if he was too far off; but if he missed it going to the westward in a driving gale, when it was too thick to see half a mile--well, we had never done so yet, and had no reason to pray for the experience.

We were a fast liner, full of fruit and passengers, and we could not stop for anything on the run up. With fifty thousand bunches of bananas below, we must drive the ship to her destination as fast as she could go, and neither hurricane nor calm must stop her. The company seldom kept a seaman long who brought in fifty thousand bunches of ruined fruit, some of it twelve hands, and most of it more than eight, selling at retail at nearly a dollar a bunch.

Two years before, Boldwin, after being hove-to for thirty-six hours in a gale, had brought in his ship laden with fruit he had taken under protest, the "yellow" being plainly in sight at the ends of more than half the bunches. He had docked, and a score of men had waded about for several days up to their hips in a mess which, once seen, causes all lovers of bananas to eschew that fruit forever afterward. Banana juice will cut the steel plates of a ship's side almost like diluted sulphuric acid--but they gave him another chance.

It was late in the afternoon of the day we had run clear of the land, when the first signs of the hurricane of September 19, 1903, made its appearance. The swell began to roll heavily from the southeast with a curious cross-roll from the westward, making a peculiarly uncomfortable sea for a steamer running northward. It dropped away from under our counter, and the _Prince Alfred_ dipped her taffrail almost to the unruffled surface. Then she would rise upon it, and, as it lifted well under her underbody, she would roll to port and throw her stern so high that the starboard screw would race in a storm of foam at the surface, shaking her tremendously, and annoying the passengers who happened to occupy after-staterooms.

When the second officer, Smith, came on duty, I made my way aft to take a look over things--to see that the small boats were securely lashed; that gratings and gear were in place, for it was evident that we were to have a piece of dirty weather. A large, fat, pale-faced woman poked her head out of window and demanded that I have the starboard engine stopped at once, as it was too racking on her nerves. She declared she had stood it as long as she could, and would lodge a complaint with the president of the company immediately she got ashore, if her demand were not complied with instantly. I started to argue the case, but she cut me short, exclaiming that "they never did such things on the French boats."

All the gear was in order aft, and I had just made my way to the bridge, when the Captain called my attention to a haze gathering to the southward.

"The glass is starting down again--dropped two more tenths," he said. "We'll run foul of something before eight bells. Looks like it was following the Stream along to the northward; it usually does."

A heavy, blue-black bank of cloud, smooth, and swept into an immense semicircle over the southern horizon, but rising fast, told of the beginning of trouble. Half an hour later we began to feel the squalls, which came suddenly and with vicious spurts of fine rain.

"According to old Captain Valdes," said Boldwin, "if you place your back to the wind, the center of the blow is to the left, or port side, and a bit behind you. This breeze is coming in from the east'ard good and quick, and it looks like we'll fetch the center straight and fair the way we're heading."

"Would you stop her and heave her up?" I asked.

"Stop her? Not as long as she'll swim. What do you think we are--a sand-barge? Stop a liner running on schedule with a fortune of bananas lying below? Get those ventilators trimmed, and put three covers on the after hatch and lash them fast. We'll run her. Who do you think would take this packet out the next voyage if he hove her to?"

As it was only too evident that it would be my chance, I said nothing.

The light grew dim as the gray pall of the storm quickly overspread the sky. The dull gray light made the sea appear queer and dark, with the great heave now running quickly, as though a mighty power were working close behind it. The tops of the breaking combers had a peculiar lift to them as they met the cross-swell, and the racing of the starboard engine became more and more violent. A terrific squall bore upon the ship, seemed to almost lift her bodily before it. The roar of the wind whirling through the heavy standing rigging told of its velocity, and then we waded right into the thick of it, with the _Prince Alfred_ lurching along eighteen knots an hour over a sea which was torn into a white and gray world that ended, so far as our vision was concerned, a few fathoms from the ship's side.

Boldwin was standing on the bridge, holding to the rail, and leaning to the blasts as though it took his whole weight to bear up against them. I came close to him.

"Get every one ... below! Lock in ... passengers!" I caught his words with my ear ten inches from his mouth. "Cover ... hatches ... all fast."

I knew what he meant. When the _Prince Alfred_ closed down her cargo there was something unusual happening. Making my way down the bridge steps, I got the men of the watch together. It was tough work, for the sea was now ugly, and we were running our weather-rail down at each roll, and scooping up plenty of water which she sent across her decks to leeward. To stand up without holding on meant to be blown bodily against the lee rail at the risk of going over.

It was an hour before I got back to the bridge, and when I did so, the squalls were becoming more frequent, and more and more violent, but there was no shift yet. It soon grew dark--a black dark--and we tore along into the blackness, unable to see two fathoms ahead. As yet we were outside the Stream, and consequently not in the usual line of the coasters, which are the dread of the liner's officers, for nothing is so uncomfortable as the sudden raising of the dim and sometimes half-extinguished lights of a schooner on a thick night while tearing along before a gale. Having the right of way, the sailing vessel has nothing to do but keep her course, while the steamship, with but a few seconds to spare, swings quickly to pass, sometimes missing a catastrophe by a few feet. A poor red light on such a night cannot be seen twenty fathoms.

Before midnight the shift began. It came from the southward--a bad sign, for it told plainly that we were nearing the center of the disturbance; and as we were heading diagonally across the path of the storm, we were almost certain to bring up in its dread vortex. As chief officer, it would have been a bit out of place for me to suggest the thing the ordinary seaman would do--that is, heave to and work out of it. Boldwin stood on his bridge and kept her going.

And yet it had to come. Before daylight the sea was terrific--the squalls coming with furious rushes, shifting, and hurling a frightful sea. A huge, lifting hill of water broke high above the taffrail, and roared a full fathom deep over the quarter-deck. The crash shook the steamer through her whole frame. It was as though she had struck a solid rock. The white glint of the foam showed through the blackness, but the dull, thunderous roar drowned all other sounds.

Boldwin went to the speaking tube in the pilot house, called to the chief engineer to stand by to heave her to and watch the engines as she came into the trough.

"We'll have to stop her," he said; and I nodded assent.

In the pilot house the clanking of the steam steering gear sounded dully in the deep, sonorous undertone of the gale outside.

Boldwin waited but a moment, and then gave the order:

"Hard over, sir!" cried the quartermaster; and the rattling clank of the engine sounded the signal for me to take advantage of the opportunity to get outside by the lee door.

If it had been blowing before while we were running, it was now a blast.

The _Prince Alfred_ laid down her whole five hundred feet of steel side into that sea, and the crash of the mighty hill that swept her shook her as though she had been struck amidships by the ram of a battleship. The forward funnel guys parted, and I had a momentary glimpse of a great pillar of iron going over the side to leeward. Then she began to head the sea, and no human could face the storm of flying water which swept the bridge.

With heads down, gasping for breath, Boldwin and myself gripped the bridge rail. The flying atmosphere tore past us. We dared not loose our grasp for an instant, and to get back to the shelter of the pilot house was impossible without following the iron rail aft.

After a thunderous rush of quick and vicious squalls, there was a sudden lull. A giant comber showed ahead, and its white and foaming crest lifted clear into the night. She buried her whole forward deck, and, as the water cleared, we could see about us. The dull snore of a giant sea sounded close aboard. It was uncanny, this sudden stillness, full of a palpitating murmur and pregnant with an ominous power.

"Right in it!" gasped Boldwin. "How does she head now?"

"Southeast by south," I answered. "The next squall will probably come from the northwest."

"Well, I guess we'll swing her while it's still--Lord, what an awful sea!"

The _Prince Alfred_ came slowly around with her engines turning at half speed. The high, leaping hills of water seemed to come from all directions at once. They fell upon her decks and shook her up a bit, but did no damage. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed. A distant murmuring sounded over the torn sea.

"Which way?" asked Boldwin nervously.

A puff of cool air blew straight in our faces; we had not noted how sultry it was, for we were soaking wet and exhausted. The puff blew to a breeze. Then came a spurt of rain and a faint flash of lightning. In a minute we were facing furious squalls, and the _Prince Alfred_, with a full head of steam, had all she could do to keep steering way with her nose pointed straight into the blast from nor'-nor'-west.

It was in the gray of the early morning, while Boldwin and I were still on the bridge, and the second and third officers were in charge of the saloons quelling the panic, that we sighted something dead ahead. The squalls were still whirling over us with longer intervals between, but with still undiminished vigor. The great sea began to show in front now through the dim light, and it was all the full-powered liner could do to hold her own head to it. To swerve to either side meant falling off into the dangerous trough, with the hazard of not being able to regain her course. Even as it was, we had to more than once slow the port or starboard engine to enable her to point her nose straight into the hurricane.

Upon the crest of a giant hill of water something showed black. It was a momentary glimpse, but Boldwin and I saw it instantly. It was close aboard and, as we yelled to each other and strained our eyes ahead, we made out the thin line of a mast. Boldwin dropped on his hands and knees and was blown to the pilot-house door. I waved my hand to ease her to starboard a little. Just then a sea struck us heavily upon the starboard bow, and held her with its rush. The next moment the shape ahead was high upon the crest of a mighty sea, and I recognized the stern of a vessel outlined against the gray pall.

I looked over the side. The foam was lying dead with us, showing we were not going ahead more than a knot or two. Boldwin saw it also, and knew that to slew his ship now would mean to get struck a blow in the side which in that sea would probably prove fatal. He thought of his passengers. They must be considered first. Whatever was ahead was going to hit us, and it was due to those we had aboard that it must strike us as fairly upon the stem as we could land it. God help them, we must save our own!

We plunged headlong into the trough, and right above us upon the following crest rose the stern of that sailing vessel. She was plainly in view now; so close that I recognized the sawed-off shape of an old-time fishing schooner. Upon her main a bit of rag like a trysail showed white. She was heading the sea at the end of her sea anchor, a long drag-rope, and as her deck showed, I saw she had been badly swept.

There was no one in sight. She was going astern fast, much faster than we thought, for even while Boldwin tried to edge to starboard, and did all he could to swing his ship without getting his head thrown off with the sea, the stern sank just ahead of us in the hollow of a sea, and our stem rose above. I leaned forward and held my breath. The _Prince Alfred_ fell headlong into the hollow, and just as we struck I read the name _Flying Star_ painted large and white right across the transom.

A dull grinding thud, which shook the _Prince Alfred_ but slightly, was all that came to us. A sea swung the wreck to port, and as she heeled and settled, I saw Johnny Sparks spring from the companionway, followed by several men. The next instant a great comber roared over them and the schooner disappeared, leaving nothing above the foam to show where she had floated a moment before. Something caught in my throat. I shut my eyes, and held my head down for I don't know how long.

We came into port four days later with Boldwin on the bridge, his face lined and haggard. Below, thirty thousand dollars' worth of bananas slushed about in a ghastly mess, in spite of the pens and shorings. But the passengers were happy. Women in gay dresses came on deck and smiled and chatted, and children romped and played. The captain did not look at me--he had not since the collision--but he spoke to me for the first time.

"See that everything is shipshape when we dock," said he, "and then meet me at the company's office at four o'clock. I'll probably not take her out next voyage--take a lay-off for a while--understand?"

PIRATES TWAIN

At last I was back in the regular liners of the Prince ships. My work on the _Heraldine_ had been appreciated by Lord Hawkes, the manager, and his lordship was no piker.

He refused Boldwin my company when that worthy but thirsty skipper asked to have me back in the old _Prince Alfred_, where a certain lady whom I admired greatly was stewardess.

The new _Prince George_, twenty-five thousand tons and a twenty-two-knot vessel, was wanting a first officer, and old man Hall was somewhat disposed to give me "a chance," as the saying is at sea when an officer applies for a berth.

"You may report to the captain to-morrow at the dock," said his lordship, and our interview was at an end. Boldwin looked sour, for I had been a good mate to him, and he wanted me badly, but the manager's word was law.

I found the giant liner all that modern improvements could make her. From her six-hundred-foot keel to her four immense funnel tops, she was a beauty.

It would take a week to describe her many qualities, and I must admit it gave me a feeling of responsibility when I stepped upon her flying bridge and looked her over.

There I would be in command every four hours, and when I gazed over her immense length and breadth it seemed indeed that I must be a person of some small ability to hold the job.

No flippant remarks here, no joking about the passengers or the company. It was silence and dignity.

How I stood it at first is more of a wonder to me, when I look back at the time, than the actual work, for really a ship's officer is not considered a mighty position, even though he does hold the lives of a couple of thousand folks in his keeping during his watch on deck.

But I was not too old, and had ambition, for some day I wanted to have a little farm of my own and raise chickens and hogs--the true ambition of every seaman I ever met--and I wanted to ask a certain lady to run the said farm for me, or rather do the cooking, which is probably the same thing.

Our crew was shipped by the agents. Old man Hall had nothing whatever to do but act as overseer of the navigators, which same were myself and a second officer named MacFarland.

Mac was a good seaman, although he had never been in sail, but had risen from the apprentice school of officers established by the company to train men for its ships--and they were of course all steam.

I must admit he knew more of express ships than I, but I had ten years more sea duty done, and I was something of a windjammer in my time. This gave me the rating with the older men who had served the same way in the old sailing vessels.

We knew each other, and could depend always upon certain things in each other that no school could develop the same way. I sat at the head of the chief officers' table, and I bought a book of table etiquette to get the lay of the whack just right.

It taught me many things I hadn't learned in a ship's forecastle, and soon I was able to speak to the prosperous-looking passengers without feeling that my tongue was in the way of my teeth.

We carried three hundred first-class--that was some when you think of it--and we often herded fifteen hundred to two thousand in the steerage. Four hundred seconds added sometimes put our total complement over three thousand souls, counting, of course, our crew, stokers, and waiters.

You will realize at once the inability of a chief mate getting even the slightest acquaintance with hundreds of the people who used the _Prince George_ for transportation across the ocean, and, if I could not get a line on them, it was equally impossible for the pursers, pursers' clerks, and stewards to do so.

Mr. Samuels, the head purser, had a memory that was said to be infallible. He said he never forgot a face. Of the million or two people he came in contact with during his runs, he boasted that he could always tell if he had ever seen one of them before.

I didn't believe it, of course; but, then, pursers have a way that many seamen can't understand, anyhow.

Being an express ship, and carrying the first-class mail, we also had an express safe. This was built into the body of the vessel, and was like the new bank safes, with solid steel doors and time locks.

Two watchmen took charge, alternating night and day, and the massive doors were not to be opened by any one alone. In that safe we often carried three or four million dollars in solid gold bars or gold coin.

Sometimes the banking houses of the United States shipped as much as two million at a time in coin. Precautions were of the modern banking sort, and the giant safe caused no comment.

The other safes of the purser and captain were just plain, every-day affairs, and seldom held more than a few thousand dollars. These were very different from the "through" safe.

* * * * *

I had been in the ship four months before I noticed a man who sat at my table. He had made a voyage with us the first run I made, and I remembered him as a clergyman who had relatives abroad in Europe, but who was himself an American.

He was a very dignified man, about fifty-five years of age, and he knew a great deal. I enjoyed talking to him, for he told me of many places and events that were most interesting. But he never at any time discussed religion, or even spoke of subjects relating to it.

Once on his second trip over, he came to my room, and presented me with a box of fine Havana cigars and, although it was against custom, I asked him in, and he came.

We smoked while I should have been sleeping, but I was not by any means overworked, and I rather enjoyed his society, flattered of course that a man of such vast experience and learning should single out the chief officer for a companion.

But then I knew many folks looked upon a master navigator as a likely person to know, and was not very much surprised, setting it down to his good taste and discernment--for I had gone a mile or two myself in my day, and had seen a few things both ashore and afloat.

Once I remember he talked of finance and the great gold shipments that were disturbing the country. He had followed the administration in its effort to curb a panic that was threatened, and spoke of the money we carried in gold coin that was for the purpose of staying a run at that time upon a banking house that had many foreign affiliations.

"The express safe is generally full, is it not, during times like these?" he asked.

"Yes, we carry millions every voyage now," I answered, and noticed that the Reverend Mr. Jackson made a peculiar grimace as if amused at the news.

The conversation immediately drifted off to Cape Town, where the minister had lately spent much time, and he soon left me to my slumber and cigars.

I noticed that he had remarkable hands, immensely strong, as though he had done much hard work, and afterward I wondered at a small tattoo mark on his wrist just beneath the edge of his cuff. He had powerful, hairy wrists, and the blue mark showed very indistinctly through the black hair, but it caused me to think of him as a strange man.

I asked him about it the next day when at the table, but he made an evasive answer, smiling at my compliment to his strong physique.

"I was something of an athlete in my younger days," he finally admitted, "and you must not think that because of my profession I live a sedentary life. I work very hard among my parishioners, and play golf a great deal. Of course, you, as a seaman, would hardly appreciate the mysteries of this manly game."

"I confess that it seems rather tame," I admitted; "seems like a poor sort of 'shinny' we used to play in America when I was a lad."

"My wife plays it also, and she is very strong and agile from the exercise," said Mr. Jackson; "I hope you will meet her next month when I return, as she will probably go to London with me."

I expressed pleasure at the thought, and noticed that Doctor Jackson was really quite a good-looking man, and there was no reason in the world why he should not possess a very pretty wife.

His clean-shaven face, lined, it is true, as though he had spent much time at physical exertion of the heavier sort, was handsome enough. A large, high nose, not badly shaped, set in between two steel-blue eyes, wide apart, and his mouth, although thin-lipped and hard-looking, was not ugly, and his teeth were large, even, and snow-white.

Altogether he was a man of strength and character from his appearance, and I remembered him for his kindness--and cigars.

Three weeks later, upon the return voyage, he came aboard and told me he would bring his wife aboard the next morning, and was just then seeing to his room, which was amidships, and upon the lower or main deck, just above the express room and over the steel safe.

He asked me if I thought the noise from below would disturb them, his wife being a nervous woman and irritable. I knew no sounds of any consequence would penetrate the deck, which was steel, and assured him that the voyage would be most pleasant, as the time of year was fine upon the western ocean.

The next day I was too busy to notice the couple, but when we were at sea and had made our departure, allowing me to go below to dinner, I found that Doctor Jackson and his wife were seated at my table about midway down the row of seats.

The minister nodded to me, and his wife smiled pleasantly. Her back was to the ports, and the light was bad, but I saw that she was about thirty, and very masculine in her appearance.

She had a very good complexion, rosy and healthy, but her face had a peculiar hardness, a settling about the corners of the mouth that boded ill for any one who crossed her temper. I made up my mind to feel sorry for the doctor. Her voice I could hear very indistinctly, but it had a sort of hardness, a suppressed tone of assumed smoothness which I did not like.

At eight bells that night when the day's work allowed me to get my time below, I met them as I left the bridge. The doctor introduced me to the lady, who stood tall and commanding in the darkness. She murmured something indefinite, but acknowledged me without offering her hand.

I believed this coldness was more cultivated than natural, but, as I had learned since being in express ships that ladies did, or did not shake hands, according to their training, I passed it up for what it was worth.

Doctor Jackson seemed a bit annoyed at the strained feeling, but I saw no reason why a woman, a wife of a minister, should find much in common with a seaman, even if he did happen to be the chief mate of the liner.

Our ways would naturally be different. Her topics of conversation would not fit in with mine, and I was mortally afraid of offending her by some sailor's slip in my tongue.

I really was glad when they left me to go to my room, and I hoped that I would not have to entertain them any more than the rules of the liner's etiquette called for.

* * * * *

The next day the doctor informed me that his wife had succumbed to the rigors of the sea and the motion had made her deathly ill. I saw her no more, and it was the fifth day out when the steward came to my room at night and asked to speak to me privately.

"The couple in Room Sixty-two will not allow their bed to be made up nor any one to enter. Doctor Jackson said to see you and it would be all right; but you know, sir, it's against the rules not to allow inspection. If you will attend to the matter, it will take the weight off the old man--he tried to enter, but he was told he could not, owing to the lady's indisposition."

"Aw, they're all right," I said. "Tell the captain I know the old sky-pilot well, and that he's a minister who has been across twice before with us. I'll go down there myself to-morrow and inspect. Give the doctor my compliments and tell him I'm sorry the rules make the inspection necessary."

"There's a strong smell of whisky, alcohol, sir, all the time, coming from the room--don't know what it can be, but I'm afraid of fire. It's probably some of those patent traveling stoves they use for heating certain medicines or something."

"Well, cut it out--I'll go down in the morning--that's all," I said, and then I turned in and forgot all about the incident.

The next day when I went below, I found the doctor and his wife waiting for me. The lady had her face wrapped up in towels, and the doctor was reading, sitting near the bed, which was a brass one, bolted to the deck.

I excused myself, and was just on the point of leaving when I noticed the smell of alcohol. It was mixed with one similar to the heated odor of a red-hot stovepipe, burning metal.

"Have any trouble with the lights?" I asked.

"Oh, no, everything is all right--one of the electrics broke and made a little smell--no, all is as comfortable as one could wish, thank you," said the doctor.

"I suppose you'll go the route all the way up?" I asked.

"No, we'll transship at Queenstown--there's a yacht waiting for me there, and we'll take her for the rest of the way to the African coast, by way of Gibraltar. You might help us with our luggage to-morrow--our little trunk is very heavy, you see." And he tried to raise one end of a small steamer trunk that was allowed in the room.

"Oh, that will be all right--the steward will fix you up--I'll see you before you go," I said, turning away.

"I hope so," returned the doctor, with a most peculiar intonation in his voice that made me look at him. But he was now turning the leaves of the book again, and a moan from the bed made me hesitate no longer.

I left them, and sent word to the head steward to see to my friends getting ashore in the morning.

As we entered the Channel, the passengers who were to go ashore came on deck. Doctor Jackson and his wife appeared at the gangway, and waited quietly for the boat.

The lady was now wrapped up in shawls, and her face was heavily veiled. The clergyman himself seemed a bit nervous, but they finally went over the side with their luggage all right.

What he had told about that steamer trunk was no joke. Two assistant stewards could hardly lift it.

Bound with iron and stoutly strapped, it seemed as though it would burst of its own weight before it was placed in the lugger that would take it ashore or rather to the small schooner that lay a few miles distant and which the doctor had pointed out as the vessel he had chartered as a yacht to take them on their summer cruise to the beautiful Mediterranean.

I waved my hand, and then went below to turn in, for the last night is always a bad one for the chief mate when making the land.

"Bang, bang, bang," came blows upon my door, followed by a yell from without. I expected to find the ship in collision, and leaped from my bunk half asleep. The express messenger stood without, accompanied by four assistants and the steward, the purser, and the second officer.

"Safe blown, sir!" yelled the messenger. "It's bloomin' well half empty, sir! Nearly a quarter of a million gone. Party from above--you knew them, the steward says!"

I ran with them to Room Sixty-two, and burst in where the captain stood gazing at a hole in the deck. He turned to me, but said nothing. The rug which had been placed over the opening was thrown aside, and there lay a hole eighteen inches wide right in the floor.

Upon the sides the charred wood told of some fierce heat to which it had been exposed. The heavy steel plate beneath had been melted and burned as if the blast of a volcano had seared it.

Ragged-edged, melted, and bent lay the plate, and beneath it again lay the hole in the express safe right in the treasure room beneath. Down and through all led the seared hole. Some mighty heat had melted, burned, and blown away the plates of hard steel.

I leaned over, and gazed down into the room where the gold had been packed in the short, stout boxes of the bank. It was scattered about, thrown all around in confusion as though the robbers had at last given up all hope of getting more out.

They had taken all that two men could lift or carry for a few rods, stopping only at the limit of their endurance; and, though the amount was not so large as the express messenger had at first stated, it ran well over one hundred thousand dollars.

* * * * *

For a moment I stood staring from the hole to Captain Hall and back, too amazed to speak, while the old man looked at me keenly.

"Nice little job," he commented dryly.

"The doctor and his wife--do you think?" I asked. I was beginning to see light.

"Wife, thunder! That was a young man of tremendous strength," snarled the express messenger. "Look how he used that electric burner--look how he bent and tore at the plate--he was a giant--had the current on his hot chisel all day--that's the smell you noticed. Probably the two most expert safe-crackers alive, and our outfit gave them the chance to work the hot knife, burn their way in where they never could have blown. They connected with the light--got current enough to work with, and covered up with the rug----"

"Well, we won't waste time seeing how it was done; we'll get a move after them", said the old man. "Jump on deck, and blow the siren--blow the alarm for fire, police--set the signals----"

I was gone before he had finished, and by the time the uproar was well under way I had time to gaze toward the little schooner the doctor had marked out as his yacht.

She was still lying at anchor, but beyond her and about five miles distant lay a fishing schooner with very tall spars and a very able look. She was hoisting her foresail, and I could just make out that she was getting under way at once.

I waited no longer. Jumping to the upper deck, I yelled for the crew of the first cutter, boat number one, and gave the signal for her men. They came scrambling as to the drill, and as they came I yelled to young Smith, the third officer, to get arms and join me.

He dashed into his room, and came back with a heavy revolver. The express messenger came up while we were lowering away, and handed me another.

"We'll go with you," he said.

"No! No use loading her down with men," I replied; "we want to get some speed on her--row six oars double banked, and that'll fill her up--you can come, you, Smith, and myself--it won't take a ship's crew to get them--lower away," I called, and the boat dropped.

We followed, and in less time than it takes to tell it we were going through the sea at seven knots an hour with the best-drilled boat in the ship. Three men aft armed, and that was all.

It was a bright summer morning, with almost no wind, and I was certain that we would soon overhaul the runaways. The schooner lifted her anchor, and stood out to the westward and southward, and soon appeared to be making good headway.

"By Jupiter, she's got a motor in her!" said Smith.

She was going ahead, almost straight in the eye of the wind, just close enough to keep her sails full, and she was moving a good five knots. She was a good four miles distant, and we would have to do some fine rowing to catch her.

I looked my men over, and wondered if they could stand it. They pulled steadily, and the boat went along swiftly, but even a heavy ship with an engine has a distinct advantage over oars.

The schooner's motor was but an auxiliary, to be sure, but five or six knots under motor was something desperate to catch by rowing when we were so far astern.

At the end of another mile I was getting anxious. Our bearings were not changed to any extent, and the third officer looked askance at me.

"Give it to her, bullies--there's a hundred apiece if we get them," I said, and swung my body with the stroke of the oars. This had an effect upon the men. A hundred dollars was more than three months' pay.

They put their weight upon the ash, and the boat fairly lifted under the strain. The sweat began to pour down their faces, and the wind died away, until the swell ran oily and smooth.

"Give it to her," I cried again, as we gained a little.

The two men at the bow oar swung mightily upon it. There was a sharp crack. The bow oar snapped off at the rowlock, and the boat eased up her speed, leaving two good men idle.

"Great snakes!" howled Smith, and the express messenger looked at me in despair.

"We can't catch her now," he muttered.

I knew it was true. We were now dropping back, and I kept on only because I felt that it would not do to give up. I scanned the sea for signs of a boat.

There were some fishing to the northward, and it was our only chance. I swung her around toward them.

"We've got to try for one--maybe there's one with a good motor in her," I said. In a quarter of an hour we were up to one boat, and saw she was not fit. We swept past without slowing up.

"Any boat about here with a strong motor?" I asked, as we came close.

A fisherman waved his hand to the northward.

"Boat up there--_Seawave_--she's fast; what's the matter?" he replied.

But we were gone without further words, and soon came to the boat. She was long and narrow, built like a seiner, only not so heavy. Two men sat in her with lines out I hailed them as we came up.

"Want to catch that schooner out there," I yelled, pointing to the vessel. "Give you a hundred dollars if you land us alongside--quick."

"Got the money?" asked the man who appeared to own her.

We came alongside without delay, and I felt rather foolish for a moment. But the express messenger had the cash with him. He handed it over without a word, and the fisherman turned quickly to his engine.

The other man pulled up the anchor at once, and in half a minute we were under way, with the motor roaring out its glad sound in a series of rapid shots that were like the discharges of a rapid-fire gun.

"Take the boat and follow," I called to the men, and then Smith, the messenger, and myself were away in the wake of the schooner that was now a good five miles off and going steadily seaward. It would be a chase for fair.

"Can you make it?" I asked the owner, who sat in his oilskins at the engine.

"Sure t'ing we make 'em--'bout two, three hours, if the gas holds out."

We were now going along at eight knots and running steadily. After all, there's nothing like machinery to get things done.

"This is something like," said Smith. "There'll be some shooting inside of an hour if the signs hold."

The messenger said nothing. The men of the boat had not asked a question. They had taken us at our word, and were doing what they could to put us alongside.

Perhaps it would be different when we came to close quarters. We had better tell them what our errand was before they stopped the motor at the beginning of hostilities. They might take us for what we were after--burglars, and spoil our chance to make a catch.

We drew near the schooner after two hours' chase. The land was lost astern, and we had run fully fifteen miles off shore.

The breeze began to freshen, but not enough to give the schooner her full, or even half, speed. She plugged along steadily at about five knots, and we drew up close enough to see a man at the wheel and no one else on deck.

Smith and the messenger told our skipper how matters stood, and the fisherman seemed to hardly relish the game after he knew it. There was certain to be trouble.

"Schooner ahoy!" I yelled, as we drew near enough to hail.

The man at the wheel paid no attention until I had repeated it several times. Then he turned and asked us what we wished in no pleasant tone.

"You stop your engine and let us board," I yelled. "You have two robbers aboard, and we want them in the name of the law."

"Who are you?" asked the man, spitting over the rail. "Go away--I don't know you."

"Run alongside--we'll jump her," I said to the skipper. The messenger, Smith, and myself drew our revolvers, and stood ready as the small craft came up to the main channels. The schooner kept right along. We sprang aboard without meeting resistance, and gained the deck.

"Where're your passengers? Don't fool with us," I snapped. "There's an old man and a young one dressed as a woman."

"Oh, Doctor Jackson and the young feller--they're down below--asleep. What do you want with them?"

* * * * *

We wasted no time talking. All three jumped down the companionway and into the little cabin. Doctor Jackson was in a bunk, apparently fast asleep, and a young man, whom I instantly recognized as the "wife," lay reclining upon a transom.

"Well, what's the row--what's up?" asked the young fellow, rising at the sight of three armed men.

"We want you--you know what for," said the messenger quietly. "Don't make any trouble--we won't stand it--come right along back with us, you and the other fellow there."

The doctor awoke, and sat up, seemingly amazed. He expostulated, was dumfounded at the charge, couldn't understand it--we must all be crazy. Two men came from forward and joined our group. It was all hands, just three men and two passengers--five in all to work the ship.

"Stop the engine," I ordered, "and either come with us or turn the schooner back, and we'll go with you."

They turned her around, and stood back toward the shore. On the way, while one of us stood guard over the two, the rest searched the schooner for the treasure, for the trunk. There was not a sign of gold anywhere aboard her.

We took turns, but found nothing, leaving not a bolt hole unsearched. It was disheartening, and looked like we had lost, after all.

"Well, what do you make of it?" I asked the messenger.

"Looks like they got us right, after all," he said; "we haven't the slightest clew to the money, and won't get it after they once get in to the police. They'll buy their way out, for there's not the slightest evidence they did the job, although I know it was them as well as they themselves."

"Plant it, you think?"

"Sure as death, they dropped it somewhere, and they only know just where. They'll take a chance at going up for a spell, doing their bit, and then getting the cache. It's on the course out somewhere, but just where who knows? We're out of sight of land now, and it'll take a wizard to locate it on the schooner's course."

"That's right enough," I asserted, "but how about trying them for a confession?"

"Go ahead," he replied gloomily.

I put it right up to the doctor. I promised him complete immunity if he would just tell where they had dropped that four hundred and odd pounds of gold.

The pair simply grinned in amusement. It seemed to tickle them immensely.

"And so you'd be a party to a felony?" asked the doctor, with great regret in his tone. "I didn't think that of you, captain--you surely disappoint me greatly. Now, if I knew where the gold lay, I should tell you at once, but warn you not to touch it, for I don't believe in mixing up with things of this sort. The men you are after must surely have taken the stuff on the previous voyage--or some other time----"

"All right," I interrupted, "if you want it that way, you'll get it. We have enough evidence to send you up for twenty years at least--direct evidence."

"I hate to hear you take on in this terrible manner, my dear captain, but I don't see what I can do about it. What makes you think I had anything to do with that gold?"

It was of no use. They would not talk about it. I began to study the schooner's course and try to figure out where in that vast area of sea they could have let the stuff go overboard with the certainty of getting hold of it again.

In a short time we met our own boat being rowed rapidly after us, and then we took her in tow and dismissed our motor boat, which had been dragging along at the main channels. The men had earned their hundred, and they departed, highly pleased at their luck, which represented more than a month's profits fishing.

As our boat came alongside, we were hailed joyfully by Jim Sanders, the coxswain, during my absence, and he held up a long line, at the end of which was fastened a small buoy. The other we saw was fast to the small trunk.

"We found it all right", said Jim. "We was rowing along fast after you, an' suddenly my eye catches sight o' this here float. I grabs it, and up comes that trunk fast to the other end in about ten fathoms of water. That trunk is sure some heavy, and I reckon it's got the stuff in it."

"Very good, very good indeed," cried the messenger. "Now things look better."

"Yes," said the third officer, "this is what we are looking for--no mistake."

"Hoist it right on deck," I said, and a line was passed to it. It was all two men could do to get it aboard. When it was safe on the deck, I went below and saw the doctor.

"We have the trunk with the gold all safe--now, what have you to say?" I said.

"Indeed?" asked the doctor, in surprise.

"Not really, say not so," remarked the younger man, in mock alarm. "Why, then you seem to have what you've been after, what you are looking for. If that is all, you better let us turn the ship about and continue our journey. Why didn't you say you were looking for that trunk?"

A yell from the deck told me something was not right. I came up the companion, and looked out, holding my pistol ready for trouble. The messenger was standing at the side of the trunk. So also was Smith.

Two men had just opened it, and had dumped a lot of old iron and bolts onto the deck, where they lay in a pile of rusty, wet junk.

* * * * *

For a moment I gazed in amazement at the littered deck. Then I smiled.

"Do you suppose we could have made a mistake by any possible means?" I asked the express messenger.

"Not by any chance, not a chance. This is a plant--why should they sink this trunk with a line and buoy to it? It proves beyond all doubt they have got the stuff somewhere. They dropped it, hoping we would stop and haul it up, and they'd gain just so much time by the device."

"Then where in Davy Jones is the swag? Where could they have hidden it?"

"That's for us to find out--I don't know."

As we came in, a dozen boats came to meet us. The police took charge, and the two prisoners were ironed and taken ashore. The schooner was put in charge of detectives, and no one allowed aboard her.

We went back to the ship in our boat, and reported the capture of the men, but the loss of the money. Whereat Captain Hall was so angry that he would not speak to me that day. I felt that I had done what I could and that I was not at fault.

I could do no less--nor no more, for that matter. I went below, and the ship went on to her dock, the passengers were sent ashore, and the dull routine of the lay-up began.

I had some time now to myself, and studied the situation carefully. It would be a month before the trial, and we would have made another voyage before then. I was served, however, with a subpoena to appear as a principal witness, and I put the paper away and took up the study of the case with vigor.

The three men aboard the schooner who had acted as crew were not in the game. That was evident, for they proved to be just plain fishermen who had chartered their craft to the doctor upon an agreement made on his former voyage. He had planned the coup, and made the vessel ready for the getaway. That was certain. The men were discharged.

Every portion of the schooner capable of hiding a gold piece was thoroughly probed. Even her masts were bored at intervals, and she was hauled out and her keel searched for a hollow that might contain the treasure. Everything that men could do was apparently done. But not a sign of gold.

The two men, the doctor and his accomplice, were sent to trial, and had the best lawyer in England to defend them, a man who did not work for small amounts. I noted that fact and waited.

They were sent up for two years each solely on the circumstantial evidence that they had occupied the room above the safe on that voyage and that if any one had committed the theft upon a former voyage it must necessarily have been discovered, as the safe was thoroughly cleaned and refilled with a new cargo of gold for that single trip.

The schooner was sold at auction by the fishermen who owned her, as they were afraid to run her under the continual scrutiny which the company put upon her. She was broken up and her gear sold for junk. That was the end of her.

It was thoroughly believed that the treasure was planted somewhere on the course we had taken during the chase, and many fishermen dragged the sea on that line in the hope of reward. But nothing came of it, and a year passed.

The time came for the doctor and his pal to get out, for the law which cut the prison term to one-half for good behavior was now in force. I watched the papers, and tried to keep posted, but nothing was printed about the convicts.

One day the doctor and his partner came aboard just as we were leaving, and spoke pleasantly to me. They had taken second class and return to New York. It was pure nerve, I thought, but the regulations allowed them the privilege, as they might not, under the "undesirable-citizen" act, be allowed to land in the States.

They took no pains at all to hide their identity, and greeted me most cordially when I met them on deck the first day out. I asked them about their sojourn in Dartmoor, and they talked freely, telling of the rigors of prison life.

"But it is all over now," said the doctor. "We will live our lives as we always have, clean, honest, without fear and without reproach. We were innocent, as you know."

"Perhaps so--but what became of the gold?" I asked cynically.

"Ah, yes, the gold," murmured the doctor. "To be sure there was some doubt about the--what shall I call it?--the disposition of the treasure that the robbers worked so hard for. That will always be a mystery."

I thought differently. I had by the process of elimination long ago come to the conclusion that the gold never left the ship in Europe.