CHAPTER 23
He held a little folded paper in his hand. At sight of it Henshawturned in his chair and faced Sloan with a wistful glance.
"Good?"
"Not very, sir."
Henshaw rose slowly and frowned like the king on the messenger whobears tidings of the lost battie.
"Then very bad?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Very well. Let me have the message. You may go."
He took the slip of paper cautiously, as if it were dangerous initself, and then called back the operator as the latter reached thedoor.
"Come back a minute. Sloan, you're a good boy--a very good boy.Faithful, intelligent; you know your business. H-m! Here--here's a fivespot"--he slipped the money into Sloan's hand--"and you shall have morewhen we touch port. Now this message, my lad--you couldn't have madeany mistake in receiving it? You couldn't have twisted any of the wordsa little?"
"No mistake, I'm sure, sir. It was repeated twice."
"That makes it certain, then--certain," muttered Henshaw. "That is all,Sloan."
As the latter left the cabin, the old captain went back to his chairand sat with the paper resting upon his knee, as if a little delaymight change its import.
"I am growing old, McTee," he said at last, apologetically, "and ageaffects the eyes first of all. Suppose you take this message, eh? Andread it through to me--slowly--I hate fast reading, McTee."
The big Scotchman took the slip of paper and read with a long pausebetween each word:
_Beatrice--failing--rapidly--hemorrhage--this--morning--very--weak._
The paper was snatched from his hand, and Henshaw repeated the wordsover and over to himself: "Weak--failing--hemorrhage--the fools! Alittle bleeding at the nose they call a hemorrhage!"
McTee broke in: "A good many doctors are apt to make a case seem moreserious than it is. They get more credit that way for the cure, eh?"
"God bless you, lad! Aye, they're a lot of damnable curs! Burning atsea--death by fire at sea! He was right! The old devil was right! Look,McTee! I'm safe on my ship; I'm rich; but still I'm burning to death inthe middle of the ocean."
He shook the Scotchman by his massive shoulder.
"Go get Sloan--bring him here!"
McTee rose.
"No! Don't let me lay eyes on him--he brought me this! Go yourselfand carry him a message to send. The doctors are letting her die;they think she has no money. Send them this message:
"_Save Beatrice at all costs. Call in the greatest doctors. I will payall bills ten times over._
"Quick! Why are you waiting here? You fool! Run! Minutes mean life ordeath to her!"
McTee hastened back to the wireless house in the after-part of theship. To Sloan he gave the message, even exaggerating it somewhat.After it was sent, he said: "Look here, my boy, do you realize thatit's dangerous to bring the captain messages like that last one youcarried to him?"
"Do I know it? I should say I do! Once the old boy jumped at me likea tiger because I carried in a bad report."
"Could you make up a false message?"
"It's against the law, sir."
"It's not against the law to keep a man from going crazy."
"Crazy?"
"I mean what I say. Henshaw is balancing on the ragged edge ofinsanity. Mark my words! If the news comes of his granddaughter'sdeath, he'll fall on the other side. Why can't you give him some hopein the meantime? Suppose you work up something this afternoon likethis: 'Beatrice rallying rapidly. Doctor's much more hopeful.' What doyou say?"
"Crazy!" repeated the wireless operator, fascinated. "If the old manloses his reason, we're all in danger."
"He's on the verge of it. I know something of this subject. I'vestudied it a lot. A common sign is when one fancy occupies a man'sbrain. Henshaw has two of them. One is what an old soothsayer told him:that he would die by fire at sea; the other is his love for this girl.Between the two, he's in bad shape. Remember that he's an old man."
"You're right, sir; and I'll do it. It may not be legal, but we can'tstop for law in a case like this."
McTee nodded and went back to Henshaw, whom he found walking the cabinwith a step surprisingly elastic and quick.
"Go back and send another message," he called. "I made a mistake. Ididn't send one that was strong enough. They may not understand. What Ishould have said was--"
"I made it twice as strong as the way you put it," said McTee; and herepeated his phrasing of the message with some exaggeration.
The lean hand of the captain wrung his.
"You're a good lad, McTee--a fine fellow. Stand by me. You'd neverguess how my brain is on fire; the old devil of a soothsayer was right.But that message you sent will bring those deadheaded doctors to life.Ah, McTee, if I were only there for a minute in spirit, I could restoreher to life--yes, one minute!"
"Of course you could. But in the meantime, for a change of thought,suppose you finish that order you were about to write out and send toCampbell."
"What order?"
"About Harrigan."
"Who the devil is Harrigan?"
McTee drew a deep breath and answered quietly: "The man you ordered towork in the hole. Here's the paper and your pen."
He placed them in the hands of the captain, but the latter held themidly.
"It's the frail ones who are carried off by the white plague. Am Iright?"
"No, you're wrong. The frail ones sometimes have a better chance thanthe husky people. Look at the number of athletes who are carried awayby it!"
"God bless you, McTee!"
"The strength that counts is the strength of spirit, and this girl hasyour own fighting spirit."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes; I saw it in her eyes."
Henshaw shook his head sadly.
"No; they're the eyes of her grandmother, and she had no fightingspirit. I think I married her more for pity than for love. Hergrandmother died by that same disease, McTee."
The latter gave up the struggle and spent an hour soothing the excitedold man. When he managed to escape, he went up and down the deckbreathing deeply of the fresh air. For the moment Harrigan was safe,but it would not be long before he would force Henshaw to deliver theorder. Into this reverie broke the voice of Jerry Hovey.
"Beg your pardon, Captain McTee."
The Scotchman turned to the bos'n with the smile still softening hisstern lips.
"Well?" he asked good-naturedly.
"Let me have half a dozen words, sir."
"A thousand, bos'n. What is it?"
Now, Hovey remembered what Harrigan had said about coming straight tothe point, and he appreciated the value of the advice. Particularly inspeaking to a man like McTee, for he recognized in the Scotchman someof the same strong, blunt characteristics of Harrigan.
"Every man who's sailed the South Seas knows Captain McTee," he began.
"None of that, lad. If you know me, you also know that I'm called BlackMcTee--and for a reason."
"More than that, sir, we know that whatever men say of you, your wordhas always been good."
"Well?"
"I'm going to ask you to give me your word that what I have to say, ifit doesn't please you, will go out one ear as fast as it goes in theother."
"You have my word."
"And maybe your hand, sir?"
McTee, stirred by curiosity, shook hands.
Hovey began: "Some of us have sailed a long time and never got much inthe pocket to show for it."
"Yes, that's true of me."
"But there's none of us would turn our backs on the long green?"
McTee grinned.
"Well, sir, I have a little plan. Suppose you knew an old man--a man soold, sir, that he was sure to die in a year or so. And suppose he hadone heir--a girl who was about to die--"
"Mutiny, bos'n," said McTee coldly.
But the eye of Hovey was fully as cold; he knew his man.
"Well?" he queried.
"Talk ahead. I've given you my word t
o keep quiet."
"Suppose this old man had a lot of money. Would it be any crime--anygreat crime to slip a little of that long green into our pockets?"
Two pictures were in McTee's mind--one of the safe piled full of gold,and the other of the half-crazed old skipper with his dyinggranddaughter. After all, it was only a matter of months before Henshawwould be dead, for certainly he would not long survive the death ofBeatrice. Even a small portion of that hoard would enable him to leavethe sea--to woo Kate as she must be wooed before he could win her.Golden would be the veil with which he could blind her eyes to thememory of Harrigan after he had removed the Irishman from his path.
"Very well, bos'n. I understand what you mean. I've seen the inside ofthat safe in the cabin. Now I come straight to the point. Why do youtalk with me?"
"Because I need a man like you."
"To lead the mutiny?"
"Tell me first, are you with us?"
"Who are us?"
"You'll have to speak first."
"I'm with you."
"Now I'll tell you. The whole forecastle is hungry for the end of WhiteHenshaw. Your share of the money is whatever you want to make it. Youcan have all my part; what I want is the sight of Henshaw crawlin' atour feet."
"You're a good deal of a man, Hovey. Henshaw has put you in his school,and now you're about to graduate, eh? But why do you want me? Whatbrought you to me?"
"I thought I didn't need you a while ago; now I have to have somebodystronger than I am. I was the king of the bunch yesterday; but the lastman we took into our plan proved to be stronger than I am."
"Who?"
"Harrigan."
McTee straightened slowly and his eyes brightened. Hovey went on:"Before he'd been with us ten minutes, the rest of the men in theforecastle were looking up to him. He has the reputation. He won it byfacing you and Henshaw at the same time. Now the lads listen to me, butthey keep their eyes on Harrigan. I know what that means. That's why Icome here and offer the leadership to you."
McTee was thinking rapidly.
"A plan like this is fire, bos'n, and I have an idea I might burn myfingers unless you have enough of the crew with you. If you haveHarrigan, it certainly means that you have a majority of the rest."
Hovey grinned: "Aye, you know Harrigan."
The insinuation made McTee hot, but he went on seriously: "If you couldmake me sure that you have Harrigan, I'd be one of you."
"What proof do you want?"
"None will do except the word out of his own mouth. Listen! Along aboutfour bells this afternoon I'll find some way of sending Miss Malone outof her cabin. Then I'll go in there and wait. Bring Harrigan close tothat door at that tune and make him talk about the mutiny. Can you doit?"
"But why the room of the girl?"
"You're stupid, Hovey. Because if you talked outside of the cabin whereI sleep--that being the office of Henshaw--he'd hear you as well as Iwould."
"Then I'll bring him to the door of the girl's cabin. At four bells?"
"Right."
"After that we'll talk over the details, sir?"
"We will. And keep away from me, Hovey. If Henshaw sees me talking withmembers of his crew, he might begin to think--and any of his thinkingis dangerous for the other fellow."
The bos'n touched his cap.
"Aye, aye, sir. You can begin hearin' the chink of the money, and Ibegin to see White Henshaw eatin' dirt. With Black McTee--excusin' thename, sir--to lead us, there ain't nothin' can stop us."