CHAPTER XIII

WHAT HAPPENED TO DOC AND THE DINGHY

Those aboard the Nuestra watched the dinghy for a minute as it came on, the sunlight flashing from the oars. Two men were still on the beach, far up to the left, with their hands to their eyes, watching the progress of the boat.

"Now what's the game?" asked Locke.

"It looks like a boarding party," said Trask. "If they wanted to come back and behave themselves, they'd all come. Get those dishes out of sight. They may manage to get aboard in spite of all we can do, but we've got to bluff 'em."

"We can't let 'em aboard," declared Locke.

Trask moved forward and mounted the forecastle, followed by Locke.

"Hello, you!" called Trask.

The rowers ceased their work, and with suspended oars allowed the dinghy to drift on.

"It's all right," said Jarrow. "They want to put me aboard for a talk."

"You can't come alongside," warned Trask. "We'll shoot if you attempt to come close," and he put his hand to his hip pocket and pulled out his silver cigarette case, taking care that the sun hit the upper edge.

"But they want to put me back aboard for a talk about how things stand," insisted Jarrow. "You'll let me come, won't ye?"

"Not with that gang," said Trask. "Let 'em take you ashore, and get up the beach. Then I'll come for you with the long boat."

Jarrow made some suggestion to Peth, but the mate shook his head.

"He says I come aboard now, this way, or not at all," said Jarrow. "You better let me tell you how the land lays."

"Nobody gets aboard here until Captain Dinshaw is brought back," said Trask. "And I'll take one man of the crew. The rest of 'em can stay here and starve for all I care. It's their own funeral. They had no business deserting the schooner."

"But I'm master, and that's my schooner, and I'm to say what's to be done," said Jarrow. "If you try to do that, it's piracy. I can't help it if the men refuse duty. All I can do is the best I can for the safety of my passengers, and if you don't let me do that, I wash my hands of ye."

"You'll find your schooner in Manila," declared Trask. "I've told you how to go about getting aboard."

"I can't do what they won't let me," whined Jarrow.

"What do they want?" demanded Trask.

The boat now had no way on her, and had swung broadside to the schooner, about a hundred yards off.

"They want a bonus," said Jarrow.

"What sort of bonus?"

"Extra wages to work the schooner back to Manila."

"We won't have 'em work the schooner back to Manila at any price."

"You can't git back yourself, Mr. Trask. Can't git out of this place. It's dangerous. You'll lose her."

"We'd rather take the chance of losing the schooner than have that cut-throat crew back here, I'll tell you that. They've made their bed, now they can sleep in it."

"Be I goin' to lose all I got out of this?" wailed Jarrow. "If you'll let 'em put me aboard, it'll come out all right."

"They can have the island. We don't want it," said Trask.

"There ain't no gold," said Peth.

"I know it," said Trask. "Could have told you in fifteen minutes, if you hadn't wanted to cheat Dinshaw out of it."

"We wouldn't a-come if we'd knowed this was a sell," said Peth.

"Weren't you paid to come?"

"He ain't got no gun," yelled Doc. "The island is full o' gold, cap'n. Yo' got to cook it an'——"

Trask turned to see the steward waving his hands at the rail, and ran toward him in rage, telling him to be still.

"Don' you lay han's on me!" yelled Doc, backing away to where Shanghai Tom stood. Behind the pair was Marjorie.

"So you're in with 'em, eh?" sneered Trask.

"I'm in fo' mahse'f!" declared Doc, lowering his head and regarding Trask from under his brows. He put his hand in his pocket. "Keep away, w'ite man, or I'll do yo'all hurt!"

Trask walked straight for the steward, who pulled out a pistol.

"My gun!" cried Trask, stopping. Marjorie uttered a cry of dismay as she saw the steward raise his hand.

"I can shoot," warned Doc. "Come on! Come on!" he yelled, waving his hand to the dinghy. "I got 'em!"

Trask heard the splash of oars, and saw out of the corner of his eye that the boat was coming ahead swiftly. He was about to hurl himself at the steward when he saw Shanghai Tom reach over Doc's shoulder and grasp the weapon. Doc turned to resist the cook, but Tom bent him sidewise, wrenched the pistol from his hand so that it fell to the deck, and lifted Doc against the bulwark. Then catching the steward's legs, he threw him over, head first, into the sea.

"Good for you!" shouted Trask, and leaping forward, grabbed up his revolver and aimed it at the boat. "Stop!" he shouted. "Stop this minute or I'll fire!"

The rowers looked over their shoulders, and seeing that Trask had them covered, backed water furiously despite the shouts of Peth to go on.

Doc came up blowing, and began to swim toward the dinghy without further ado. Jarrow now yelled to the rowers to keep backing, and when Peth roared at him to "shut his head," the captain, taking advantage of the confusion, stood up and leaped into the water and began swimming to the schooner quite as fast as Doc swam away from it.

"Let me aboard!" cried Jarrow.

"All right," said Trask. "Come on!" and he came, with an awkward, splashing, overhand stroke, like some queer fish with one curved fin out of the water.

The rowers stopped backing and watched the two swimmers, as if not sure just what to do. Peth seemed inclined to wait and see how things turned out before making for shore. He evidently had abandoned any desire he had to get aboard the schooner by force.

Jarrow came floundering along, and managed to reach up and grasp the stern of the long boat, when he pulled himself up and climbed in. He stood dripping, dashing the water out of his eyes, and regarded the dinghy.

"Get out!" he bawled, shaking his fist. "Ye can go to the devil, the whole lot of ye!"

Peth made no reply, but spoke to the rowers, and the dinghy turned slowly and headed for the island, but waited for Doc to get alongside, when they helped him aboard, and made off rapidly.

"Them blastered scoundrels!" raged Jarrow, as he rubbed his hands down over his shirt to squeeze out the water. "I lost my hat."

"Better come aboard, captain," said Trask. "Have you a gun?"

"I wish I had," declared Jarrow, wrathfully. "I'd a-let daylight through that fool of a Peth! See the game they run on me ashore?"

"We did," said Locke. "You were lucky to get away."

"By the Mighty Nelson!" declared Jarrow, as he clambered over the side and hurled a shower of water around him like a halo as he landed on the bone-white deck. "I never did see such a passel o' fools! Plumb bugs on gold! They think 'cause there ain't any we're to put a young fortune in their hands! I'll have the coast guard on 'em, that's what, and land every man of 'em in Bilibid for life!"

"Then you're for getting out?" asked Trask.

"You bet I am! Think I want to hang around and palaver with a set of pirates that'd stick a gun in my face and tell me where I git off? Not much! What's that Doc pulled on you?"

"A gun," said Trask. "And my own. He had it all the time."

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" declared Jarrow, staring at the weapon which Trask still held in his hand. "He's a nice one!"

"A smooth article," said Trask. "He fooled me, all right. If it hadn't been for Tom——" He looked around, but Tom had disappeared into the galley.

"I'm sure the steward would have shot you," said Marjorie, who had regained her composure, and now stood beside Trask.

"Looked like it was all off to me," said Locke. "We'll have to square things with that Chink."

"What's this?" asked Jarrow, looking at the pan and bowl, and the sand on the deck. "Been lookin' for gold?"

"Tried some of it," said Trask.

"Find any?" asked Jarrow, with quick interest.

"No," said Trask, and Locke appeared startled, but said nothing.

"I better git into some dry duds," said Jarrow. "As soon as there's a capful of wind, we'll see what we can do about gittin' out of this hole, unless you want to go prospectin' ashore, Mr. Trask."

"Not with those fellows there," said Trask, looking over to where the boat was making a landing far up the beach. The other two men came down to meet the boat's crew, and there was a lively conference.

"But we can't go and leave poor old Dinshaw," said Marjorie.

Jarrow looked at Trask questioningly.

"How about it?" he asked. "Are we goin' to hang around and take chances just to pick up the old un?"

"We can't leave Dinshaw," said Trask. "We've got to get him before we think of leaving."

"You can suit yerself," said Jarrow. "I'm for gittin' out. They won't hurt him. Soon's we're gone, they'll all make over for the mainland. They've got some canned meat and hard bread. They took a lot of stuff with 'em last night."

Jarrow departed for his room, leaving a wet trail behind him.

"He's all right," whispered Locke. "If we can get Dinshaw, we're fixed up to leave."

"We'll keep an eye on the captain just the same," said Trask. "I rather think he's had all he wants of Peth and the crew, even if he was going to stand in with them at one time."

"Oh, I guess he's straight enough," said Locke. "But you didn't tell him about that gold."

"He was keen about what you'd found," said Marjorie. "I suppose he didn't understand what the steward said."

Trask laughed, and leaning over to Locke, whispered: "There wasn't any gold in the sand."

"No gold?" said Locke, staring at him.

"No. The 'gold' was just some brass filings I made in the forecastle out of an old brass cleat that was hanging on a nail in my room for a clothes hook," and he took from his pocket the piece of metal and displayed the groove he had cut in it with the file.

"What the dickens did you do that for?" asked Locke.

"To see if Doc would stand in with the crew, although I didn't expect it would result in his pulling a gun on me. I thought that if he was against us, he'd try to get back ashore with the news. Now if they think the island is full of gold, they'll be content to stay there and not bother us. But I didn't want to fool Jarrow. He might not be so anxious to leave, if he had what he thought to be proof that there was plenty of gold."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Marjorie. "I'd hoped that Dinshaw's dream had come true."

"Had me going all right," said Locke.

Before long Jarrow came out, in dry clothing, smacking his lips after a drink, and lighted a long cigar.

"Now," he began, "how're we to git Looney Dinshaw back?"

"Go for him with the boat," said Trask.

"You come along?" suggested the captain.

"I'll stick by the schooner," said Trask.

"Then I'll take the cook."

"Not unless the cook wants to go of his own accord," was Trask's reply. "I'm not going to ask Tom to do anything."

"Want me to go alone?" asked the captain, in surprise.

"I suggest that you row up toward the point, and call Dinshaw down to you. You can get him easy enough, and I'll stand watch here to see that you're not headed off by the dinghy."

Jarrow said nothing to this, but went aft for his glass, and studied the group far up the beach. The sailors were gathering wood from the jungle, and making a pile about halfway between the edge of the forest and the water.

In a few minutes a curl of white smoke was rising from the pile they had laid.

"Gittin' a meal ready," was Jarrow's comment, and he went into the cabin where Shanghai Tom was setting the table.

"Doc is making a fire to melt some gold on his own account," said Trask to Locke and Marjorie. "I wish him luck. Dinshaw is still piling sand into little dunes up near the point."



CHAPTER XIV

WHAT JARROW WANTED AND WHAT HE GOT

Captain Jarrow spent an hour or two loafing about the schooner and swearing under his breath as he regarded the shore, where the crew was going through mysterious incantations.

But Trask understood that Doc was initiating them into the mysteries of smelting out gold from sand. To all appearances, it was utterly devoid of anything approaching gold.

Finally, after a conference with Locke and Marjorie, Trask put before the captain the matter of bringing Dinshaw back. But Jarrow was inclined to be sulky about it. He objected to having "it put up to him to bring the fool aboard," as he expressed it.

"None of us will leave the schooner under the circumstances," declared Trask.

"But I want the cook," said Jarrow. Trask had joined him on the forecastle and the others remained in the cabin.

"The cook stays right here with us," said Trask. "I don't intend to take a chance at losing another man."

"You don't seem to look on me as worth much," said Jarrow, as he gazed at the column of smoke which rose straight in the air and hung over the island like a volcanic vapour, spreading out into a funnel-shaped cloud.

"If Peth was willing to put you on board, I don't see that he'd interfere with you if you went ashore," said Trask. "As I see it, you can pull over, get Dinshaw, and come back. You don't need to go near that gang on the beach."

"Can't ye let me have the gun?"

"No." Trask walked away from Jarrow, satisfied that the captain would take no action so long as there was a possibility of continuing the argument.

Not long afterward, while the three in the cabin were playing cards and Tom was preparing lunch, Jarrow came shambling aft, and without a word went over the side and into the long boat. When Trask went out on deck the captain was pulling slowly for the shore, making a course to land near where Dinshaw was toiling in the broiling sun at his sand piling.

All hands deserted the cabin to see what would happen. As the boat approached the beach, Doc was seen to leave those about the fire, and proceed toward Dinshaw, with the avowed purpose of heading the captain off.

Jarrow made his way leisurely, and ran the boat on the shingle. He stood watching Doc and waiting for him, and when the steward had come close and stopped as if in doubt as to what the captain's attitude would be, Jarrow beckoned him on with a peremptory gesture.

There was a parley, which ended with Doc returning to the fire, and then Jarrow approached Dinshaw. The old man looked up and waved his hand as if pointing out the result of his labours.

Jarrow kicked the sand, and got down to examine it. Then he said something to Dinshaw, and the latter got up and followed him obediently to the boat. Soon they were heading back for the schooner, Dinshaw serving an oar.

"What's the news?" asked Trask, as the boat drew near.

"They want to come back," said Jarrow. "Peth sends word that if you'll take 'em, they'll return to duty if you'll call it square. Seems like they've tried a wrinkle of burnin' the sand to git gold, but it won't work, an' they're plumb disgusted."

"We won't take Peth's word about anything," said Trask.

"I guess they got a belly full o' this business," was Jarrow's comment as he brought the boat alongside. "You make a mistake not to take 'em up. We'd be in a bad hole here if it come on to blow hard. Ye better let me signal 'em back."

Trask said nothing to this, but helped Dinshaw over the side. The old man seemed utterly spent, and appeared to be in a daze from the sun. He looked about as if he had seen none of them before, and smiled, whispering something about gold, holding up his hands and looking at them.

"He thinks the sand is gold," said Jarrow. "I looked it over and it's no more gold than I am."

Marjorie spoke to Dinshaw, but he merely blinked at her, and she took him away to the cabin and gave him food and drink.

"What's this Doc said about you cookin' gold out of sand?" asked Jarrow.

"Brass filings," said Trask, promptly, and took some of the particles from his trousers pocket and dumped them into Jarrow's palm. "Had my suspicions of him, and wanted to see if he'd give me a double cross. And he has the nerve to want to come back!"

Jarrow grinned and examined the grains of brass, and with a remark that it was all a crazy business, announced his intention of getting some sleep.

"Call me, Mr. Trask, if this calm breaks, and we'll git out. I'm disgusted."

Dinshaw had suffered a sort of collapse, or coma, and he was put to bed likewise. Trask managed to get up an awning, and out on deck, where they could keep watch on shore, they lunched in comparative comfort.

Locke, now satisfied that the whole venture was a mad sort of lark, took it all in jocular mood, and chaffed Marjorie about her desire to go adventuring in the tropics. But Trask knew that he had been much more worried than either himself or Marjorie, and that his sallies were the result of his relief from strain about how things would turn out for them.

Shanghai Tom had become the pet of the trio, and while he maintained his outward imperturbability, it was evident that he was quite proud of his exploit in overcoming and disposing of the treacherous Doc Bird. Trask had promised him a reward on their return to Manila, at which he had remarked, "Me no catchum for cash," and shook his head. The Chinaman either from pique at the crew's total disregard of him in their plans or from a real liking for the passengers themselves had lined himself up on the side of the Lockes and Trask.

The crew deserted their fire and took to the jungle, leaving a pile of smouldering ashes on the sand, and during the afternoon there was nothing to be seen of them. The dinghy was in plain sight, pulled up on the beach, just beyond where they had essayed their attempts at reducing ore by the "cooking" method.

Trask managed to get a nap lying in a steamer chair under his improvised awning, for it was agreed that if they had to remain at their anchorage for the night, he would have to share a watch with Jarrow.

In spite of the captain's evident desire to abandon the crew to their fate, Trask still had a lurking suspicion that Jarrow was more in sympathy with Peth's demands for extra money than his heated language against the mate implied. And the young man was determined that he would not relax his vigilance once Jarrow was on deck again. So while he slept, Locke sat in the doorway of the cabin and read while Marjorie played solitaire under a corner of the awning and kept a watch toward shore.

Jarrow appeared late in the afternoon, and was rather morose and silent. He went out on the forecastle and smoked, scanning the sea and sky and complaining to himself that there was no wind. The sea was as smooth as a field of liquid metal, great glassy swells extending to the horizon all round, glinting in the sun. The heat was oppressive until the sun dropped to the sea's rim, when dark wind patches made their appearance to the southward on the surface of the ocean. But still the calm held.

While the sky and sea were yet suffused with crimson from the sun's afterglow Jarrow came aft, and without a word to any one, or even a look, went on the poop, going up the port side.

Marjorie went in and peeped into Dinshaw's room. The old man was sleeping, breathing gently, but lying like a man utterly exhausted, flat on his back in his bunk.

As she came out on deck, where Trask and Locke sat watching the sea and reconciling themselves to another night aboard the schooner in the bight of the reef, Jarrow's voice came over the cabin trunk in a low growl as he cleared his throat.

"We better talk this thing over," he suggested.

"All right, captain," said Locke. "Suppose you come down here."

Jarrow appeared at the starboard break of the poop, his hands on his hips, a cigar aslant in his mouth. He gave the trio a critical glance, and turned his head toward the island.

"Not much chance to get out to-night," began Locke. "Do you look for a breeze?"

"I don't look for nothin'," said the captain, without looking at Locke. "I been thinkin' this thing over," he said presently, chewing his words with his cigar. "I'm out of pocket on this deal."

"How do you mean?" asked Locke, with a startled glance at Trask. He had detected a belligerent note in the captain's voice.

"Just this," said Jarrow, with sudden vehemence, slapping his hand down on the cabin roof, and turning a savage visage at the three sitting below him: "I come on this trip lookin' to make a piece o' money. I figured there'd be a couple of weeks here at the least—you'd go lookin' for gold, an' maybe find it, an' I'd git a look-in. Now ye want to skip out for Manila again. Where do I git off?"

Trask sprang to his feet, his face scarlet with rage.

"You sit down, young feller," said Jarrow, holding up a hand for attention. "Don't go off half-cocked."

"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Locke. His back was to Jarrow, and he did not get up.

Trask stood glaring at Jarrow with trembling lips and set jaw. The captain pushed his cap back on his head and puffed a couple of times at his cigar before he spoke.

"I mean you can't git out of here, wind or no wind, without me. And what's more, ye won't go when I do but ye'll pay me for my time, and I'll make it fair enough."

"You're in with Peth!" exclaimed Trask, and made a move toward his pistol pocket.

"I'm in with Peth," admitted Jarrow. "He didn't work it just the way I wanted, but now it's come to a show down. This schooner is for sale for twenty thousand dollars. I guess that's fair enough, seein' the jam ye're in, and the young lady along."

"I've half a mind to take a shot at you," said Trask.

"Go ahead and shoot," said Jarrow. "That's my chance. I'll risk it. But you've got to handle the rest of the crew before mornin', don't forgit that."

"Twenty thousand dollars," said Locke, musingly, and looked at Marjorie, who stared at Jarrow as if she could not believe her ears.

"My price," said Jarrow. "I thought I'd say somethin' about it before the boys come out. They'll be makin' along out this way in a few minutes. It'll save messin' things up to reach a bargain before they come."

"The first man that tries to come aboard——" began Trask.

"You can't kill 'em all," said Jarrow, grinning. "Oh, it's cheap at the price. You'll find it a lot more comfortable to see this thing the way it lays. You shoot me, and it's all off with ye. The boys'll just have to boat off down the coast and say ye was lost with the schooner. That's easy enough."

"You're a murderin' scoundrel," said Locke, quietly.

"I'm out for the coin," said Jarrow. "Work with me, and it'll be all right."

"Sit down, Mr. Trask," said Locke. "We might as well go about this in a business way."

"Now ye're talkin'," said Jarrow.

"What's your proposition?" asked Locke. "Tom! Bring me my cigar-case."

"I'm sellin' the schooner for twenty thousand. I left word in Manila at your bank that you had a mind to buy, an' you'd pay ten thousand. That's a fair price. My bank thinks ye're goin to buy, too, so that's another ten. I won't have no trouble cashin' two checks on you. I cashed your checks in both banks before we left, and they're sort o' trained to it."

"You're playing a dangerous game," said Locke. "Do I understand you're to put us down in Manila and then go up to the banks and cash checks on me?"

"No," said Jarrow. "You stay here on the island, hid away. If I don't git the money, it's you who's playin' a dangerous game."

"But how are we to get away from here?" asked Locke.

"We'll send the schooner back, after we've had time to git clear of Manila. May be five or six days after we git our money, but I'll send it right enough. Of course, I could ask more, an' take a wide chance, but I ain't hoggin' things. It ought to be worth gittin' out without trouble for you folks. And ye'll git some of yer money back out o' this old wagon. Say the word, an' I'll signal the boys to come back, all peaceful, an' no shootin'. If ye don't want to take it my way, I'm done talkin'. The others look for fight, an' Peth's got my gun's well's his own. So, if you want fireworks, it ain't my funeral."

"I'll take you up," said Locke, as he reached for his cigar-case. "You'll let us have Tom—and what we need?"

"Everything ye want," said Jarrow, with satisfaction. "Only don't come no didoes with me or the checks. If I ain't here to tell Peth it's all right when he comes alongside, he'll cut loose on ye in the dark."

"I'm giving you my word that we'll play fair, as you call it. You'll get your checks, and all I ask is fair play in return."

"My way o' lookin' at it," said Jarrow. "I thought you'd find it a open an' shut game, an' I spoke as I did so's you'd have time to pack an' stow the boats, if ye don't want to stay aboard to-night. But there ain't no call for you leavin' here 'less we git a wind."

"We'll take that up later," said Locke.

"I'd like a letter from you, as how ye've bought the schooner," said Jarrow. "Ye can say's ye've decided to remain here, and I'm to attend to some things in Manila, so's it'll look natural like."

"As you say," said Locke. "If you'll fetch my coat, I'll write out a check—the checks. And my pen's with the book."

"I'll bring some paper," said Jarrow, with a glance at Trask. "If you don't mind, unload your gun, and give me the ca'tridges. I'll turn 'em over to ye when ye leave for the island. How's that?"

"I'll compromise," said Trask. "Suppose Miss Locke keeps the gun? You'd hardly expect Miss Locke to shoot you in the back, would you?"

"I'll take the ca'tridges," said Jarrow, coming down and holding out his hand. "I ain't figurin' on anybody changin' their mind, but it'll be better to make sure."

"Give him what he wants," said Locke. "We'll play the game as the cards run."

So Trask took out the magazine, and removed the cartridge from the chamber of the pistol and surrendered the ammunition.

Jarrow went into his room for the paper, and they heard him fumbling in the little bulkhead desk.

"No use arguing with a man when he's got the drop on you," said Locke. "If it wasn't for Miss Trinkets, here, it might be different. But I'd rather pay up than see anybody hurt."

Trask sat with his empty pistol across his knees, thoroughly dejected, staring out over the blood-red sea. Already a star, close to the horizon, had popped out, and the top of the island was gathering gloom.

"I was a fool ever to take you people on such a wild-goose chase," said Trask. "I'll have to pay you back every dollar of this, Mr. Locke."

"Pay nothing," said Locke.

"I'm the one to blame, Dad," said Marjorie, laying her hand on his arm. She was quite white, but she smiled faintly. "And you can't blame yourself, Mr. Trask. It was all my plan from the first, Dad. We plotted to inveigle you into coming to the island, at least I abetted Mr. Trask, and I'm glad I came."

"I'm satisfied——" said Locke, with a whimsical smile, and before he could go on he was interrupted by a scream of rage inside the cabin.

They all sprang up as Tom dashed from the galley and looked into the captain's cabin. They saw the white form of the Chinese against the dark interior, and heard a terrific struggle going on, with the sound of shoes being hammered against the bulkhead.

As the three pressed in to look over Tom's shoulder Dinshaw leaped from the deck of the captain's cabin, and yelling like mad, ran up the companion and dived over the taffrail.

Trask ran after him in time to hear him splash into the water, and turning to come through the cabin for the long boat, heard Jarrow sobbing on the deck, and crawling about, or so it seemed, for the captain's arms were moving like a swimmer's although he was making no progress forward. And as he struggled, he gave gasping cries.

"What's happened?" cried Locke.

"He killum cap'n," said Shanghai Tom, and stooping down, picked up a knife. It was a long knife from the galley rack.

Marjorie ran from the cabin, overcome with horror, and Trask followed, with the intention of getting the long boat away to save Dinshaw. But as he paused, poised on the bulwark to jump down into the boat, he looked aft. There was no trace of Dinshaw.

"Go to the taffrail and look," he called to Marjorie. She hastened to the poop-deck while he got the boat off, which swung with the tide, and drifted aft as he paddled with the big oar, standing in the stern.

For an instant there was a white object visible against the dark water, as if a fish had broken the surface. Whatever it was, it was being swept away swiftly by the tide. Before Trask could reach the spot where it had appeared, the water was smoothed out in a steely sheen. Dinshaw had been whirled away to the coral depths below.

It was growing dark as Trask rowed back. As he came alongside the schooner he saw Locke standing beside Marjorie.

"Dead," said Locke.

From shore there came a confused chorus of cries. Trask listened, and across the darkening waters he saw a white spot drifting out slowly, and then in the evening hush heard the clatter of oars.

"The cartridges!" he cried. "They're coming out, Peth and the others. With Jarrow dead, we've a fight on our hands!"

He leaped over the bulwark, and dashed into Jarrow's cabin, to regain the ammunition he had surrendered. A blazing match revealed Jarrow lying on his back, his face distorted and spotted. Trask found the cartridges loose in the captain's coat pocket, and hurried out of the cabin.



CHAPTER XV

AN END AND A BEGINNING

A red moon rose out of the sea, and threw a fiery trail over the heaving wastes that reached to the schooner's side. Her hull and masts stood out in bold relief like a vessel in silhouette before the glare of a volcano.

Trask, Locke, and Shanghai Tom stood on the starboard side abreast of the foremast where they could see over the bows and still be in a position to resist from either side when the crew attempted to board. Locke had a pair of iron belaying pins, and while Tom had a similar weapon, he also had a galley knife. Marjorie stood just outside the cabin door, where she could retreat inside and protect herself against bullets.

The boat came forward slowly and cautiously, now only a dark spot on the water, still covered by the gloom of the island. The crew apparently hoped to get close without alarming those aboard.

"We'll let them come on, and then give it to them without warning," said Trask. "I'll hold my fire until they're right under us. Keep low, so they can't see our heads."

Watching over the bulwark, Trask saw the boat come out of the island's shadow into the moonlight. He expected a dash once the boat was exposed, for it would be useless to attempt to sneak up on the schooner if any watch were kept.

But the rowers came on leisurely. It might be that they supposed Jarrow would be the only one on watch and would allow them to get alongside before their proximity was suspected by Trask and Locke.

"I can't see but three," whispered Locke.

"Others may be hidden," said Trask. "Or they've decided to cut their party in two, to intercept anybody who got away to the island."

"We can handle three, all right," said Locke, with some relief. "They'll walk right into a trap."

"They probably figured Jarrow would have things fixed for them by the time they arrived, by having some of us out of the way. It isn't possible that they could know what's happened to him," remarked Trask.

The boat came on slowly and silently, the oars working steadily but with little noise of locks. It headed for the starboard side, and came up within a dozen yards of the bow abreast of it. Then the oars were held, backing slowly.

"Aboard there!" came a low, hoarse voice. Trask and his friends remained silent.

There was an exchange of whispers. Then the oars backed water quietly, to check the way and overcome the tide.

"Aboard there!" This time it was louder, and Trask knew it was not the voice of Peth.

"Hello!" he answered, gruffly, speaking as he thought Jarrow might if he were waiting for his treacherous crew to seize the schooner.

"Who's that?" asked the voice. It was more cautious, and apparently worried. After a pause: "Is it Mr. Trask?"

"Yes," replied Trask boldly. There was something hopeful in the tone of the other. If it had been Peth, Trask would not have admitted his own identity.

"Then it's all right," said the other. "I'm Bevins. Where's the skipper?"

"In his room asleep," answered Trask, still cautious, and not to be fooled into telling the truth. If they expected Jarrow, it would puzzle them to be told the captain was not there to meet them.

"Look out for him," said Bevins, hastily. "He's fixin' to do for ye. We've run away from Mr. Peth. Shope and Pennock are here with me. We don't want no trouble. We want to come back aboard for duty. But have an eye out for the skipper. He's lookin' for Mr. Peth to come out, but we got the dinghy."

"We stood in with him for gold," said another voice, pleadingly. "But when it come to makin' trouble for you folks, we ain't for it."

"Come up closer so I can look into the boat," commanded Trask.

"You better lock the skipper in his room," said Bevins. "We don't want to come aboard if he's going to make a row. He's a slick one, and he thought we stood in with him—thought we'd come out with Mr. Peth to put you ashore, but we give 'em the dish—Mr. Peth and the nigger. You better git the skipper or he'll be down on ye."

They pulled the boat in, and under Trask's orders walked about the bottom, to prove that there was no one lying hidden under their feet.

"You may come aboard, Bevins," said Trask finally. "But the others stay where they are a few minutes. If they attempt to rush, they'll get shot."

"Git the skipper before I come," begged Bevins. "Git him while he's asleep. Don't take no chances. He's up to maroon ye all."

"We've got the skipper," said Trask, grimly. "Don't worry about him. He is dead."

There were exclamations of surprise and joy from the boat.

"Ye done for him? No foolin'?" asked Bevins.

"No doubt about it. Come aboard and see for yourself."

"Ye won't make no trouble for us for what we done if we come for duty?"

"Not if you help us get back to Manila, and make no more trouble."

"We don't want no trouble, honest to Gawd!" said Shope.

"Mr. Peth he got us to go ashore just for fun," said Bevins. "I know we had no call for doin' of it but he said we'd be back in the mornin'. Said the skipper give orders for it."

"We'll call it square if you men turn to," said Trask. "But if there's any more trouble the first man to start it, follows Jarrow. You'll have to understand that before you come aboard. We're all armed and you'll have to be searched."

"That's fair," said Bevins. "I'll come first. I ain't got no arms."

They worked the boat aft to where the pilot-ladder was and Bevins came up. Trask searched him from head to toe while Locke and Tom kept watch on the others in the dinghy.

Trask believed that Bevins was telling the truth. His warning about the captain and his reluctance to come aboard until he was assured that Jarrow could do no harm were convincing. If the three in the boat had been in league with Jarrow, it was improbable that they would tell Trask that the captain was a menace.

Bevins then asked to see Jarrow. So Trask sent him aft and gave him matches to examine the captain's room. He came back presently, and with considerable satisfaction assured his companions that they need have no further fear of the skipper.

Marjorie came forward to her father, and finding that instead of a battle they were safer than ever, she began to cry softly.

Bevins now advised that it was necessary to keep a sharp lookout toward shore. He was afraid that Peth and Doc would make some attempt to get out to the schooner.

Shanghai Tom went to the galley and prepared a meal for the three who had returned. After shutting the door of Jarrow's room the cabin lamp was lighted, as if in defiance of the two ashore and to prove that all was well aboard the schooner.

Shope was given coffee and a cigar and put on watch, while all hands joined in a meal in the cabin. Bevins went over the whole story of how Mr. Peth had held up the captain ashore, but that it was all to mislead those in the schooner, and how after taking to the brush the captain had told them his plans for "making a nice pot of money" out of the expedition, they having found no gold.

Doc had been in with Jarrow and Peth from the first. He had been told to play the spy, but he had kept secret his theft of the pistol from Trask's bag, a circumstance which puzzled Jarrow. The captain taxed Peth with having made a blunder so early in the game, and it was not until Doc had declared himself as the dinghy approached the schooner with Jarrow and his men that the secret of who had the pistol came out.

Doc had been told to return with the long boat after Jarrow was held up by Peth, and announce the captain's capture. When the captain came out again it was with the intention of getting aboard the schooner and putting Trask, Locke, and Marjorie ashore.

Jarrow had planned that the party which went ashore in the night would get back in the morning before they were discovered, but when Trask learned of the secret departure, Jarrow had signalled them to remain ashore, by means of the lantern in the forerigging.

If the crew had got back aboard the schooner without having aroused any suspicions, it was Jarrow's intention to get his three passengers on the island, and then demand checks, leaving them there while he took the schooner back to Manila and got the money.

Bevins, Shope, and Pennock had no idea of what had been planned until Jarrow told the whole plot ashore. Then it came out that Peth's refusal to sleep aft was arranged by Jarrow and Peth to make it appear that they were at odds. The demand for money was to be made ostensibly by Peth, Jarrow always pretending that he was in the power of the crew.

Doc's report of how Trask had "cooked" gold out of the sand had set them all to burning sand, but when they found no gold after cooling the sand, Peth and Doc had quarrelled, the mate calling the steward names and charging him with being as crazy as Dinshaw. Peth doubted Doc's story of Trask finding gold at all. Doc had been chased by Peth, and in escaping from the mate's fury, the steward, being barefoot, had burned his feet so badly that he couldn't walk, having run into some of the red-hot sand.

So Doc was to have been left behind in the night attack on the schooner, and it was due to his disability that the trio was able to steal the dinghy. Bevins said that Doc had once killed a man, and Jarrow knew about it, with the result that the captain held the Negro under his control.

During the night they heard Peth halloing to the schooner, calling for Jarrow, but they gave no answer. Peth continued to call, like a dog baying the great moon which wheeled overhead, until along toward dawn, when the fire on the beach flared up for a while and then died.

Before daylight there was a nervous stir of air, and the sun rose on a cloud from the north. The breeze freshened, and Bevins, now in command, got the anchor, and under jib and reefed foresail they headed out for the sea.

Jarrow's room having been cleared early in the night, and the captain wrapped in old canvas, the body was dropped overboard as they passed clear of the reefs, Trask saying from memory as much as he could remember of the service for burials at sea.

Through the glass Trask saw a white figure watching them from the edge of the jungle as they drove southward for Manila before a steady wind from the northeast.

Marjorie, who had slept after midnight, leaned against the taffrail with Trask, watching Shope and Pennock trimming the sails. Bevins had the wheel but Locke was asleep below, having remained up all night.

"Poor old Captain Dinshaw," said Marjorie. "He'll never have his big house with good soup for supper."

"Perhaps it's just as well," replied Trask. "He was too old and pitifully crazy ever to enjoy anything. It's likely he would have suffered more if he'd never come to his island. And he might have killed somebody not so deserving of the fate he meted out to Jarrow."

"I suppose you'll come back and really look for gold when we're gone," she said.

He looked at her.

"No more of that island for me," he said. "The government will most likely send a boat to get Mr. Peth and Doc but I wouldn't come back here if the island were all gold."

"Why not?" she asked, somewhat surprised.

"Because it meant great peril for you. I would not care to have those terrible dangers recalled. I want to think of you as safe and happy. But there's one thing about it all which gives me satisfaction."

"What's that?"

"You'll never forget me!"

"Why, Mr. Trask, of course I won't! What a silly thing to say!"

"You might if it hadn't been for what we've been through in this schooner." He looked out over the sea.

"I hardly think so," she said, smiling at him. "Of course, you didn't understand what a joke Dad was going to play on Jarrow about the checks."

"What joke!" demanded Trask, turning to her.

"Dad's balance at the International in Manila is only about four thousand dollars."

"Then it might have been anything but a joke if Jarrow had come on for the money and didn't get it," said Trask. "But I suppose the bank would have allowed an overdraft."

"There couldn't be any overdraft. That four thousand is all the cash we've got in the world. Dad's supposed to be rich, but he isn't. We have only a little fruit ranch in Southern California. We've been saving up for ten years for this trip around the world, since mother died. Jarrow would have found himself in trouble if he had attempted to cash those checks."

"I thought your father was a millionaire?"

"There is a man named Locke who has millions in California, but he is not a relative of ours."

"Glad to hear it!" cried Trask. "By George, I'm glad to hear it!"

"Glad that we're not rich! Why, Mr. Trask!"

"I'm—I'm going back to the States," he announced. "On the same boat you do, if you don't mind."

"You've changed your plans?"

"Yes. I'm going to quit mine-scouting out in these God-forsaken ends of the earth, and get back to where there's civilization. I think I'll buy a fruit ranch in Southern California. I've got enough capital. And what mining I do, I'll do it in California."

She scanned his face, amazed at what he was saying, and startled at his seriousness.

"Come below, and I'll tell you about it," he said, and she went down before him.

"Marjorie," he said, seeing that Shanghai Tom was out of sight in the galley, and her father's door was closed, "I've been in love with you since that first night in the Manchuria. But I thought—well, I thought you had millions!"

"Wilkins told everybody we were rich." She put her hand on his arm so gently that he could scarcely feel its weight. "I—love you. I was sure of it when Doc aimed that revolver at you."

He swept her into his arms.

"Thank God you missed the Hong Kong boat," he said.

"I really wanted to see you again," she confessed.

"But you were going home."

"It was I who made Dad miss the Taming. Anyway, I didn't tell him we'd have to get the morning train from Dagupan."

"For that I'm going to kiss you again," said Trask. And he did.

Immediately on the arrival of the Nuestra Senora del Rosario at Manila the coastguard cutter Candelaria sailed for Dinshaw's island. Peth and Doc Bird, seeing the steamer approaching, attempted to leave the island on an uncompleted raft, which broke up with them, and both were drowned, Doc clinging to the mate when they were thrown into the water.

The next Hong Kong boat left Manila with Mr. Locke and Mr. and Mrs. Robert Trask among the passengers.

Shanghai Tom opened a Chinese restaurant in Manila with the capital provided by Locke and Trask as a reward for his bravery in disarming the steward.

Trask declares that his days of hunting gold are over. Locke says that there is no longer a lure for him in tropical islands, and Mrs. Trask vows that all the romance there is between Cancer and Capricorn can be claimed by any one who wants it, for she is happy enough on the west coast of the United States of America, with the picture of Dinshaw's island hanging in the Trask bungalow.

THE END



THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N. Y.



TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected; however, hyphenation inconsistencies appear as in the original text.