"Leave go o' me, you nigger!" he howled, as the hand of Mendez caught his collar.
"Who you call nigger? Me?" demanded Manuel Mendez angrily. "What you t'ink dis ship be, huh? You say 'sir' to de mate, queeck!"
One giant black hand encircling the boy's throat; Mendez laughed and choked him until Jerry's face was purple. Then, having heard the desired "sir", Mendez flung Jerry at the companionway which swallowed him from sight.
At the bottom of the ladder, Jerry perceived Captain Pontifex bearing his instruments and going above for the noon observation. Jerry sidled into the nearest cabin and hid. He knew that the Missus was up forward in the galley2, safely engaged in getting dinner.
Thus it happened that when Florence went swiftly to the stern cabin, and Tom Dennis stood upon the companion ladder to give her warning of any approaching danger from above, neither of them knew that moon-faced Jerry was fearfully waiting and listening inside the cabin of Mendez, the door slightly ajar. And that cabin adjoined the stern cabin.
"Father—can you wink3 your eyelids4 once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'? Quickly!"
Florence stood before the immobile figure of her father, watching him with anxious desperate eyes. The eyes of Miles Hathaway winked—very slowly, very slightly, but very perceptibly. Was it chance or design?
"Have you given the position of the wreck5 to Captain Pontifex?" breathed the girl. Her father's eyes closed twice. A sudden glory shone in her face, as she realized that this was no accident—that she was communicating with her father at last!
"You heard all that passed at the meeting here," she hurried on. "Was he sincere in what he said? Does he mean to keep his promises to us?"
The eyelids of the paralytic6 fluttered twice.
"Have they harmed you?"
"Yes."
"Can we trust anyone aboard here?"
No answer. Evidently Hathaway was not sure upon this point.
"Have they any intentions of harming me?"
"Yes."
"They have! And Tom too?"
"Yes. Yes." Repeated, this time, manifestly for emphasis. The girl paled slightly.
"Will they harm us before we reach Unalaska?"
"No."
Tom Dennis began to whistle cheerily. Florence, who had filled her father's pipe, put it between his lips and held a match while he puffed7. As she did so, the door behind her was flung open, and into the cabin came Tom, propelling before him the cabin boy Jerry.
"Heard everything you said, Florence," said Dennis, surveying the shrinking boy. "Now, Jerry, what d'you mean by spying on us? Who set you in there to listen?"
"Nobody." Jerry began to blubber. "But that nigger Mendez kicked me downstairs, and I seen him comin', and I ducked in there. I didn't mean to hear nothing honest! And I won't tell them, neither, if ye let me go. Don't whale me!"
"Lord, Jerry, I wouldn't hurt you!" said Dennis; but he frowned as he spoke8. He looked at Florence and gestured helplessly. If the boy told—their game was done!
"Jerry," said the girl, suddenly stooping and kissing the gaping9 boy, "do you like Captain Pontifex?"
"No, I don't! I hate him! And if we ever get anywhere, I'm going to run away."
"He hates us, Jerry. Do you want to go away from this ship with us?
"You bet, ma'am. Can I?"
"If you don't say a word to anyone about what you just heard. If you do, Mr. Dennis and I will suffer, and you'll get no chance to run away."
"Cross m'heart, ma'am." And Jerry earnestly suited action to word. A sudden excitement shone in his eyes. "They've double-crossed you all the time. I know; I've heard 'em talk! They're goin' to give you to that man Frenchy, that used to be cook. I never seen him, but they talk about him lots."
"All right, Jerry," said Dennis hastily. "Beat it before the skipper comes back."
The boy fled. Dennis looked at the flushed hurt face of Florence.
"Give me—to that man!" she said faintly. "Oh! It—it's impossible——"
"Right, old girl—it's quite impossible." Dennis made a gesture of caution, as he heard the sound of steps from the passage. "You leave it to me, that's all. I'm sorry you heard that, Florence; but it'll be all right. Better take that pipe from your father, or we'll forget it. Eight bells just struck and we'd better run along to dinner."
The skipper entered, with a smiling nod and a twirl of his moustache.
"Unalaska day after to-morrow, if the wind hold," he announced, his deep-set eyes flitting from face to face as if seeking secrets there. "All's well?"
"All well and hungry, skipper." Dennis turned to the door. "Coming?"
"Not for five minutes. I want to jot10 down these figures and work out our position."
During the meal which ensued, Tom Dennis marvelled11 at the manner in which Florence maintained her cool poise12, with never a token to indicate the terrific ordeal13 to which she had so lately been subjected. And little Jerry, his moon-face white and frightened, served the table with an occasional adoring glance at the girl; the danger from Jerry was palpably eliminated.
To dare risk further conversation with Miles Hathaway would be unadvisable, Dennis realized. Discussing the matter with Florence that afternoon, he found all traces of excitement gone from her; she was coolly alert, and much better poised14 than was Dennis himself. Fury was so deep and strong within him that it was difficult for him to restrain his passion; but Florence had become quite cool and dispassionate.
"It is quite clear, Tom," she said quietly, "that we must get father off this ship at Unalaska. If the revenue cutter is there, you had better interview the commander, tell exactly what has happened, and have father placed ashore15. If the revenue cutter is not there, the port authorities——"
"Will probably be too slow to act," put in Dennis. "And there's another thing—this ship has diving equipment aboard, with all things necessary for the work in hand. I want to go after the wreck of the Simpson, Florence: I believe that Pontifex will be only too glad to set us all ashore at Unalaska provided he could get the location of that wreck."
"But he wouldn't trust father to give him the correct location. He'd hold us, or hold father, as hostages."
Dennis nodded, frowningly. After a moment he rose.
"Dear, please go to your father at once, Tell him that it is absolutely essential that he give Pontifex the correct location of that wreck. Tell him that I shall handle the entire matter in such a way that Pontifex will ultimately get his just desserts; but for the present it is necessary that Pontifex should not suspect us."
"And you, Tom? What are you going to do now?"
"I'm going to see the skipper—I think he's on deck. If your father consents to do as I request, please call us at once."
Dennis hurried out to the companion way, and ascended16 to the deck.
Pontifex was there, indeed—tall and cavernous, caressing17 his curled black moustache while he talked with Mr. Leman. Dennis approached them with his heartiest18 manner.
"Well, gentlemen, good news!" he said warmly. "Do you remember, Captain, mentioning Dumas to me when we came aboard? That gave us an idea, and I believe that Mrs. Dennis will be able to communicate with her father. In fact, I expect her to call us down there at any moment to get the location of that wreck. Pretty good, eh?"
Mr. Leman rubbed his broken nose. The skipper gave Dennis a sharp look, then forced a smile.
"Why, certainly, Mr. Dennis! Very glad indeed to hear it. The means?"
"By Captain Hathaway's winking19 his eyes in response to certain questions. Simple, if we'd only thought about it, eh? And, Captain, Mrs. Dennis and I both think that when we reach Unalaska she had better be put ashore there with her father. She's rather worried over his condition, and she'd be able to secure comforts ashore which can't be had here."
Pontifex nodded absently. His
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