Chapter XXVIII: A Mystery Is Solved, and a Thief Gets Away

Innumerable sampans were plying up and down the river, some with masts and some without, and great junks with carved sterns lay side by side so closely that their sails formed a patchwork as many-colored as Joseph's coat. There were West River small craft with arched deck-houses, which had beaten their way precariously far up and down the coast; tall, narrow sails from the north, and web-peaked sails on curved yards from the south; Hainan and Kwangtung trawlers working upstream with staysails set, and a few storm-tossed craft with great holes gaping between their battens. All were nameless when I saw them for the first time, and strange; but in the days that followed I learned them rope and spar.

Vessels from almost every western nation were there, too--bluff-bowed Dutch craft with square-headed crews, brigantines from the Levant, and ships from Spain, England, and America.

The captains of three other American ships in port came aboard to inquire about the state of the seas between the Si-Kiang and the Cape of Good Hope and shook their heads gravely at what we told them. One, an old friend of Captain Whidden, said that he knew my own father. "It's shameful that such things should be--simply shameful," he declared, when he had heard the story of our fight with the Arab ship. "What with Arabs and Malays on the high seas, Ladronesers in port--ay, and British men-of-war everywhere!"

He went briskly over the side, settled himself in the stern-sheets of his boat, and gave us on the quarter-deck a wave of his hand; then his men rowed him smartly away down-stream.

"Ay, it is shameful," Roger repeated. He soberly watched the other disappear among the shipping, then he turned to Mr. Cledd. "I shall go ashore for the day," he said. "I have business that will take considerable time, and I think that Mr. Lathrop had better come too, and bring his books."

As we left the ship we saw Mr. Cledd observing closely all that went forward, and Roger gravely nodded when I remarked that our new mate knew his business.

At the end of some three weeks of hard work we had cleared the hold, painted and overhauled the ship inside and out, and were ready to begin loading at daylight on a Monday morning. However great was Mr. Johnston's proclivity to get "wrought up," he had proved himself an excellent man of business by the way he had conducted our affairs ashore when once he put his hand to them; and we, too, had accomplished much, both in getting out the cargo and in putting the ship in repair. We had stripped her to her girt-lines, calked her, decks and all, from her hold up, and painted her inside and out. She was a sight to be proud of, when, rigged once more, she swung at her anchorage.

That evening, as Roger and Mr. Cledd, the new second mate, and I were sitting in the cabin and talking of our plans and prospects, we heard a step on the companionway.

"Who's that?" Mr. Cledd asked in an undertone. "I thought steward had gone for the night."

Roger motioned him to remain silent. We all turned.

To our amazement it was the cook who suddenly appeared before us, rolling his eyes wildly under his deep frown.

"'Scuse me, gen'lems! 'Scuse me, Cap'n Hamlin! 'Scuse me, Mistah Cledd! 'Scuse me, ev'ybody! Ah knows Ah done didn't had ought to, but Ah says, Frank, you ol' nigger, you jest up 'n' go. Don't you let dat feller git away with all dat yeh money."

"What's that?" Roger cried sharply.

"Yass, sah! Yass, sah! Hun f'om Boston! He's got de chisel and de hammer and de saw."

We all stared.

"Come, come, doctor," said Roger. "What's this cock-and-bull story?"

"Yass, sah, he's got de chisel and de hammer and de saw. Ah was a-watchin', yass, sah. He don't fool dis yeh ol' nigger. Ah see him sneakin' round when Chips he ain't looking."

For a moment Roger frowned, then in a low, calm voice he said, "Mr. Cledd, you'll take command on deck. Have a few men with you. Better see that your pistols are well primed. You two, come with me. Now, then, Frank, lead the way."

From the deck we could see the lanterns of all the ships lying at anchor, the hills and the land-lights and a boat or two moving on the river. We hurried close at the negro's heels to the main hatch.

"Look dah!" The negro rested the blunt tip of one of his great fingers on the deck.

Some sharp tool had dropped beside the hatch and had cut a straight, thin line where it fell.

"Chisel done dat."

We were communicating in whispers now, and with a finger at his lips the cook gave us a warning glance. He then laid hold of the rope that was made fast to a shears overhead, swung out, and slid down to the very keelson. Silently, one at a time, we followed. The only sound was our sibilant breathing and the very faint shuffle of feet. Now we could see, almost midway between the hatches, the dim light of a candle and a man at work. While we watched, the man cautiously struck several blows. Was he scuttling the ship? Then, as Roger and the cook tiptoed forward, I suddenly tripped over a piece of plank and sprawled headlong.

As I fell, I saw Roger and the cook leap ahead, then the man doused the light. There was a sound of scuffling, a crash, a splutter of angry words. A moment later I heard the click of flint on steel, a tiny blaze sprang from the tinder, and the candle again sent up its bright flame.

"Come, Ben, hold the light," Roger called. He and Frank had the man from Boston down on the limber board and were holding him fast. The fight, though fierce while it lasted, already was over.

The second mate now handed me the candle, and bent over and examined the hole the man had cut in the ceiling. "Is the scoundrel trying to sink us?" he asked hotly.

Roger smiled. "I suspect there's more than that behind this little project," he replied.

The man from Boston groaned. "Don't--don't twist my arm," he begged.

"Heee-ha-ha!" laughed the cook. "Guess Ah knows whar dat money is."

"Open up the hole, Ben," said Roger.

I saw now that there was a chalk-line, as true as the needle, from somewhere above us in the darkness, drawn along the skin of the hold perpendicular to the keelson, and that the man from Boston had begun to cut at the bilge where the line crossed it.

He blinked at me angrily as I sawed through the planks. But when with chisel and saw I had removed a square yard of planking and revealed only the bilge-water that had backed up from the pump well, he brightened. Had the Island Princess not been as tight as you could wish, we should have had a wetter time of it than we had. Our feet were wet as it was, and the man from Boston was sadly drabbled.

"There's nothing there?" said Roger, interrogatively. "Hm! Put your hand in and feel around."

I reluctantly obeyed. Finding nothing at first, I thrust my arm deeper, then higher up beyond the curve. My fingers touched something hard that slipped away from them. Regardless of the foul water, I thrust my arm in still farther, and, securing my hold on a cord, drew out a leather bag. It was black and slimy, and so heavy that I had to use both hands to lift it, and it clinked when I set it down.

"I thought so," said Roger. "There'll be more of them in there. Fish them out, Bennie."

While Roger and the cook sat on the man from Boston and forced him down into the evil-smelling bilge-water, the second mate and I felt around under the skin of the hold and drew out bag after bag, until the candle-light showed eighteen lying side by side.

"There ought to be two more," said Roger.

"I can't find another one, sir," the second mate replied.

I now hit upon an idea. "Here," said I, "here's what will do the work." I had picked up a six-foot pole and the others eagerly seized upon my suggestion.

I worked the pole into the space between the inner and outer planking while the man from Boston blinked at me angrily, and fished about with it until I discovered and pried within reach two more leather bags.

"Well done!" Roger cried. "Cook, suppose you take this fellow in tow,--we've a good strong set of irons waiting for him,--and I'll help carry these bags over under the hatch."

Calling up to Mr. Cledd, Roger then instructed him to throw down a tarpaulin, which he did, and this we made fast about the twenty bags. Having taken several turns of a rope's end round the whole, Roger, carrying the other end, climbed hand-over-hand the rope by which we had lowered ourselves, and I followed at his heels; then we rigged a tackle and, with several men to help us, hauled up the bundle.

"Cap'n Hamlin, sah," the cook called, "how's we gwine send up dis yeh scound'l?"

"Let him come," said Roger. "We'll see to him. Prick his calves with a knife if he's slow about it."

We heard the cook say in a lower voice, "G'wan, you ol' scalliwaggle"; then, "Heah he is, cap'n, heah he come! Watch out foh him. He's nimble--yass, sah, he's nimble."

The rope swayed in the darkness below the hatch, then the fellow's head and shoulders appeared; but, as we reached to seize him, he evaded our outstretched fingers by a quick wriggle, flung himself safely to the deck on the far side of the hatch, and leaping to the bulwark, dove into the river with scarcely a splash.

Some one fired a musket at the water; the flash illuminated the side of the ship, and an echo rolled solemnly back from the shore. Three or four men pointed and called, "There he goes--there--there! See him swimming!" For a moment I myself saw him, a dark spot at the apex of a V-shaped ripple, then he disappeared. It was the last we ever knew of the man from Boston.