Thrice Armed

He watched the man closely, and it became evident to him that Jordan had been warranted in the construction he had put on certain scraps of information picked up on the wharf and in the saloons of Vancouver.

"I don't quite understand," said the skipper.

"I think Mr. Robertson does. Of course, he couldn't well drop his name without invalidating his papers, and after all it was probably safe to keep it, since there are a good many Robertsons, and everybody would expect him to change it. Still, I scarcely fancy he is aware that there are two men in Vancouver who would swear to him with pleasure. They're firing sawmill boilers."

The engineer's jaw dropped and there was craven fear in his face, but he seemed to pull himself together, though Jimmy noticed his glance toward the door.

"I dare say you can recall the Oleander case," he said. "She was a British ship, and I don't know how Mr. Robertson was able to slip out of Portland quietly; though since the fireman who was done to death on board her belonged to that city, the boys along the wharves would have drowned him if they had got their hands on him."

"Good Lord!" said the skipper, with a little gasp; "the man was slowly roasted." Then he swung around toward the engineer. "This is the – brute who did it?"

"If you're not sure, you can look at him."

A glance was sufficient, and the skipper had no time for another. Robertson turned swiftly in a frenzy of drink-begotten rage and crazing fear, and flung open the door. Then he stooped, and before they quite realized his purpose whipped up the poker from the little stove and struck furiously at Jimmy's head. Jimmy, throwing himself backward, flung up his forearm and broke the full weight of the blow; but it left him dazed and sick for a second or two, and before the skipper could get around the little table Robertson had swung out of the door. A clamor broke out, and men ran aft along the deck as he headed for the rail; but as he laid his hands on it Jimmy reeled out of the room beneath the bridge with the blood trickling down his face. The engineer swung himself over, and Jimmy, who shook off the skipper's grasp, sped aft with uneven strides and leaped from the taffrail.

The cold of that icy water steadied him when he came up again, and he saw that the stream of tide was carrying the other man down toward the Shasta and strained every muscle to come up with him. It was, however, five or six minutes before he did it, and when Robertson grappled with him they both went under. Jimmy waited, knowing that they must come up again, and when that happened there was a splash of oars close by. Then he struck with all his strength at a livid face, and just as he felt himself being drawn down once more an oar grazed his head and a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Lay hold of him!" he gasped, and the boat swayed down level with the water while he and Robertson were dragged on board.

"Keep still!" said somebody, who struck the latter hard with the pommel of an oar.

Then Jimmy scrambled to his feet with the water draining from him. "Back to the Adelaide," he said, "as fast as you can."

It was, however, half an hour later when Robertson was once more thrust into the skipper's room, and collapsed, with all the fight gone out of him, on a settee. He seemed to have fallen to pieces physically, but it was evident that his mind was clear, though there was now only abject fear in his eyes.

"Well," he said, "what do you want from me?"

Jimmy still felt a trifle dazed, and his head was throbbing painfully, but he roused himself with an effort.

"I'll tell you in a minute; but first of all I should like you to realize how you stand," he said. "The Oleander is a British ship, Vancouver is a Canadian town, and if I put the police on to the two men I mentioned they will have a tolerably clear case against you. You needn't expect anything from Merril; he will certainly go back on you."

Robertson's face grew vindictive. "He held the thing over me, but we never meant to kill the man. He tried to knife one of us, and, anyway, it was his heart that made an end of him. We didn't know until afterward that it was wrong. But go on."

"Well," said Jimmy dryly, "I'm not going to make a bargain with you, but at the same time I'm not quite sure how far it's my duty to work the case up for the police. In the meanwhile, I want a plain written statement as to your connection with Merril."

The man made a sign of acquiescence, though there was malice in his eyes. "I can get even with him, anyway, and it's a sure thing he'd have sent me up out of the way if he could. Get me some paper."

Jimmy turned to the skipper. "Call one of the prospectors. We want an outsider to hear the thing."

A miner was led in, and Robertson, who had been handed pen and paper, commenced to write. The skipper read aloud what he had written, and all of them signed it. Then Jimmy put the document into his pocket, and two seamen led the engineer to his room. Early next morning, when the breeze had fallen, a steward roused the skipper.

"I took in Mr. Robertson's coffee, but his room was empty," he said.

The skipper was on deck in a few minutes, but there was nothing to show what had become of the engineer. The Adelaide had, however, now swung with her stern somewhat near the shore, and a man who had kept anchor watch remembered having seen a big Siwash canoe slipping out to sea a few hours earlier.

"There was a man in her who didn't look quite like an Indian," he said.

"Well," said the skipper dryly, "if he's drowned it won't matter. Anyway, I'm not going to worry."

CHAPTER XXX

AN EYE FOR AN EYE

The Shasta lay safely tied up to a buoy in Vancouver Inlet, and a quartermaster stood at her gangway with instructions to see that no stranger got on board, when Jimmy sat talking to his sister and Jordan in the room beneath her bridge. It was an hour since she had steamed in, and except for an occasional clinking in her engine-room, where Fleming was still busy, there was silence on board her, though the scream of saws and the rattle of freight-car wheels came off faintly across the still water. The two ports were open wide, but none of those who sat in the little room noticed that the light was fading. Jordan and Eleanor were listening with close attention while Jimmy concisely related how he had fallen in with and towed Merril's steamer. At last he broke off with an abrupt movement when a splash of oars grew louder.

"Another boat!" he said. "We'll have every curious loafer in the city pulling off by and by."

Then the voice of the quartermaster reached them as he answered somebody who called to him from the approaching boat.

"No," he said, "you can't see Captain Wheelock – he's busy. Keep her off that ladder."

There was evidently another question asked, and the man answered impatiently: "I can't tell you anything about the Adelaide 'cept that she's coming along under easy steam. Should be here in a day or two."

Jordan glanced at Jimmy. "The men you brought down are talking already, and we haven't much time for fixing our program. When do you expect her?"

"I don't exactly know. We came away before she did when the breeze fell, but her second engineer seemed quite confident he could bring her along at seven or eight knots. He wasn't sure whether his high-pressure engine would stand anything more."

Then it was significant that both of them looked at Eleanor, who had insisted on coming with Jordan, and who was apparently waiting to take her part in the discussion. One could have fancied from their faces that they would have preferred to be alone just then and were a trifle uneasy concerning the course their companion might think fit to pursue. She leaned back in her chair watching them, with a little hard smile which seemed to suggest that she knew what they were thinking. Still, she said nothing, and Jordan spoke again.

"You are sure of the Adelaide's skipper and that miner fellow?" he asked. "They wouldn't go back on you if Merril tried to buy them off?"

"I think I can be sure of them," said Jimmy reflectively. "The skipper is not the kind of man I would take to, but, in some respects, at least, he's straight; and, anyway, he's bitter enough against Merril to back us in anything we may decide to do. You see, the man who gets his boat ashore is practically done for nowadays, whether it's his own fault or not; and I fancy we can count on the miner, too. After what those fellows had to go through to get the gold they were bringing home, they're not likely to have much sympathy with Merril. In fact, if the others understood how near they came to seeing it go down in the Adelaide, it would be a little difficult to keep them from laying hands on him. In any case, there's the engineer's statement – one can't get over that."

Eleanor stretched out her hand for the paper, and there was a vindictive sparkle in her eyes as she glanced at it.

"Charley," she said with portentous quietness, "it seems to me that the possession of this document places Merril absolutely in your hands. You are not afraid to make the utmost use of it?"

Jordan glanced at Jimmy in a fashion the latter understood. There was something deprecatory in it, and it appeared to suggest that he wished his comrade to realize that he was under compulsion and could not help himself. Then he turned to the girl with a certain air of resolution.

"No," he said, "I don't think I am afraid, but I want you to understand that I am manager of the Shasta Company, and have first of all to consider the interests of my associates, the men who put their money into the concern. There is Jimmy, too."

"Jimmy!" and Eleanor laughed a little, bitter laugh, which had a trace of contempt in it. "Pshaw! Jimmy's love affairs don't count now. I think he feels that, too. After all, there is a trace of our mother's temper in him if one can awaken it."

She turned and looked at her brother, who closed one hand tightly. "Oh, I know; the girl has graciously condescended to smile on you, and no doubt you are almost astonished, as well as grateful, that she should go so far. Still, where did the money that made her a dainty lady of station come from? Must I tell you that a second time, Jimmy?"

She stopped a moment, and gripped the paper hard in firm white fingers. "This is mine. I bought it. You know what it cost me, Charley; and what has Jimmy done in comparison with that? Do you think anything would induce me to spare Merril now that I have this in my hands?"

Jimmy looked up sharply, and saw the flush of color in her cheek, and that the blood had crept into his comrade's face. His own grew suddenly hot.

"Ah!" he said, with a thrill of anger in his voice, "I begin to understand. She got the information you acted on out of that brute, Carnforth. You knew that, Charley, and you – you countenanced it."

He half rose from his seat with a brown hand stretched out as if to tear the paper from the girl, but while Jordan swung around toward him Eleanor laughed.

"Sit down," she said imperiously, "you simple-minded fool! Do you think I would let Charley's opinion influence me in an affair of this kind?"

Jordan made a gesture of resignation. "She would not," he said. "That's the simple fact. But go on, Eleanor – or shall I tell him? Anyway, it must be done."

The girl silenced him, and though the next two or three minutes were, perhaps, as unpleasant as any Jimmy had ever spent in his life, it was with a certain deep relief that he heard his sister out. Before she stopped she held up a white hand.