CHAPTER XXX
_In Which the Fog Thins and the Crew of the "Spot Cash" Fall Foul of a Dark Plot_
Morning came to the _Spot Cash_, too--morning with a thick mist:morning with a slow-heaving sea and a vanished wind. Bill o' Burnt Baylooked about--stared in every direction from the listed littleschooner--but could find no familiar landmark. They were in some snugharbour, however, of a desolate and uninhabited coast. There were nocottages on the hills; there were no fish-flakes and stages by thewaterside. Beyond the tickle--that wide passage through which theschooner had driven in the dark--the sea was heaving darkly under thegray mist. Barren, rugged rock fell to the harbour water; and rockyhills, stripped of verdure by the winds of a thousand years, hid theirbald heads in the fog.
"I don't know what it _is_," said Bill o' Burnt Bay to the boys; "butI know well enough what it _ought_ t' be."
"'Tis never the Shore," Billy Topsail declared.
"I'm 'lowin'," said Skipper Bill, but yet doubtfully, "that 'tis oneo' the Pony Islands. They lies hereabouts," he continued, scratchinghis head, "long about thirty mile off the mainland. We're on awesterly shore, and that means Islands, for we've never come t' thewesterly coast o' Newfoundland. If I could get a peep at the Bald-headI could tell for certain."
The grim landmark called the Bald-head, however,--if this were indeedone of the Pony Islands--was in the mist.
"I'll lay 'tis the Pony Islands," Billy Topsail declared again.
"It may be," said the skipper.
"An' Little Pony, too," Billy went on. "I mind me now that wesheltered in this harbour in the _Fish Killer_ afore she was lost onFeather's Folly."[6]
"I 'low _'tis_," Skipper Bill agreed.
Whether the Pony Islands or not--and whether Big Pony or LittlePony--clearing weather would disclose. Meantime, as Archie Armstrongsomewhat tartly pointed out, the _Spot Cash_ was to be looked to. Shehad gone aground at low tide, it seemed; and she was now floating atanchor, free of the bottom. The butt of her bowsprit had been driveninto the forecastle; and the bowsprit itself had gone permanently outof commission. Otherwise she was tight and ready. The practical-mindedArchie Armstrong determined, with a laugh, that notwithstanding theloss of a bowsprit the firm of Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Companywould not have to go out of business for lack of insurance. And afteran amazingly hearty and hilarious breakfast, which Bagg, thecook--Bagg _was_ the cook--presently announced, the folk of the _SpotCash_ went ashore to take observations.
"We'll rig a bowsprit o' some sort," Bill o' Burnt Bay remarked,"afore the fog lifts."
The fog was already thinning.
* * * * *
Meantime, on the easterly coast of the Little Pony, the _Black Eagle_was being warped in towards shore and moored with lines to a low,sheer rock, which served admirably as a landing wharf. The gangplankwas run out, the hatches were lifted, the barrows were fetched frombelow; and all these significant operations were directed in ahalf-whisper by the rat-eyed little Tommy Bull. Ashore went thefish--ashore by the barrow-load--and into a convenient little gullywhere the tarpaulins would keep it snug against the weather. Fortunefavoured the plan: fog hid the island from the sight of all men. Butthe faces of the crew grew longer as the work advanced; and the voiceof the rat-eyed little clerk fell lower, and his manner turned stillmore furtive, and his hand began to shake.
In the cabin the skipper sat, with an inspiring dram, engaged inmelancholy and apprehensive brooding. Armstrong & Company had notserved him ill, after all (thought he); but, pshaw! the _Black Eagle_was insured to the hilt and would be small loss to the firm. Well,well! she was a tight little schooner and had many a time taken theevil fall weather with a stout heart. 'Twas a pity to scuttle her.Scuttle her? The skipper had much rather scuttle Tom Tulk! But pshaw!after all 'twould but make more work for Newfoundland ship-builders.Would it never be known? Would the murder never out? Could Tommy Bulland the crew be trusted? The skipper had already begun to fear TommyBull and the crew. He had caught himself deferring to the cook.
To the cook!
"Pah!" thought the skipper, as he tipped his bottle, "George Rummknucklin' down to a cook! A pretty pass t' come to!"
Tommy Bull came down the ladder. "Skipper, sir," said he, "you'd bestbe on deck."
Skipper George went above with the clerk.
"She's gettin' light," said Tommy Bull.
At that moment the skipper started. With a hoarse ejaculation leapingfrom his throat he stared with bulging eyes towards the hills uponwhich a shaft of sunlight had fallen. Then he gripped Tommy Bull bythe arm.
"Who's that?" he whispered.
"What?" the terrified clerk exclaimed. "Who's what, man? Where--where?What you talkin' about?"
The skipper pointed to the patch of sunlight on the hills. "That!" hegasped.
"'Tis a man!" said the clerk.
"We're cotched!" the skipper groaned.
The rat-like little clerk bared his teeth.
* * * * *
Bill o' Burnt Bay and the boys of the _Spot Cash_ had seen what thelifting fog disclosed--the _Black Eagle_ moored to the rocks of theLittle Pony and unloading. But they had not fathomed the mystery. Amystery it was, however, and a deep one. To solve it they came downthe hill towards the schooner in a body and were presently face toface with skipper and clerk on the deck. The crew went on with theunloading; there was never a hint of hesitation or embarrassment. Andthe skipper of the _Spot Cash_ was serenely made welcome. Whateverrat-like impulse to bite may have been in the heart of the littleclerk, when Bill o' Burnt Bay came over the crest of the hill, it hadnow vanished in discreet politeness. There was no occasion for biting.Had there been--had the crew of the _Black Eagle_ been caught in thevery act of scuttling the ship--Tommy Bull would no doubt have drivenhis teeth in deep. Even amateur scoundrels at bay may be highlydangerous antagonists. These were amateur scoundrels, to be sure, andgood-hearted in the main; but they were not yet by any means at bay.
"Jus' a little leak, Skipper Bill," Skipper George explained, whenBill o' Burnt Bay had accounted for his presence in Little Pony."Sprung it in the gale."
"Did you, now?" said Skipper Bill, suspiciously; "'tis lucky wehappened along. I'm a bit of a carpenter, meself, an' I'd----"
"Not at all!" Skipper George protested, with a large wave of the hand."_Not_ at all!"
"'Twould be no trouble----"
"Not at all!" Skipper George repeated. "Here's Tommy just found thespot, an' we'll plug it in short order."
Skipper Bill could ill conceal his suspicion.
"You're in trouble yourself with the _Spot Cash_, says you," saidSkipper George. "We'll lend you a spar an' a couple o' hands t' setit."
"We'll buy the spar," Archie put in.
Skipper George laughed heartily. "Well, well," said he. "Have it yourown way. You make your repairs, an' I'll make mine; an' then we'll seewho's back t' the Shore ports first."
Archie bethought himself.
"I'll lay you," Skipper George went on, clapping Archie on the back,"that you'll not find a fish in the harbours where the _Black Eagle_goes."
"You're ordered home, Skipper George," said Archie. "I've this messagefrom Tilt Cove."
Skipper George glanced at the telegram. "Well, well!" said he,blandly; "we're nigh loaded, anyhow."
Archie wondered afterwards why Skipper George had caught his breathand lost some of his colour.
* * * * *
Presently the crew of the _Spot Cash_, with two stout hands from the_Black Eagle_, went over the hills with the spare spar. Skipper Georgeand Tommy Bull made haste to the cabin.
"Ordered home," said the skipper, slapping the message on thecounter.
"Forthwith," Tommy Bull added.
"There's more here than appears," the anxious skipper went on."Tommy," said he, gravely, "there's something back o' this."
The clerk beat a devil's tattoo in pertur
bation.
"There's more suspected than these words tell," the skipper declared.
"'Tis by sheer good luck, Skipper George," said the clerk, "that we'vea vessel t' take home. I tell you, b'y," said he, flushing withsuspicion and rage, "I don't trust Tom Tulk. He'd sell his mother fora slave for a thousand dollars."
"Tom Tulk!" Skipper George exclaimed. "By thunder!" he roared, "TomTulk has blowed!"
For the second time that day the rat-like little clerk of the _BlackEagle_ bared his teeth--now with a little snarl.
"They've no proof," said the skipper.
"True," the clerk agreed; "but they's as many as two lost jobs aboardthis vessel. They'll be two able-bodied seamen lookin' for a berthwhen the _Black Eagle_ makes St. John's."
"Well, Tommy Bull," said the skipper, with a shrug, "'tis the clerkthat makes prices aboard a tradin' schooner; and 'twill be the clerkthat will explain in this particular case."
"Huh!" Tommy Bull sneered.
Next day the _Black Eagle_, with her fish again aboard, put to sea andsped off on a straight course for St. John's. Notwithstanding thedifficulties in store, clerk and skipper were in good humour with allthe world (except Tom Tulk); and the crew was never so light-heartedsince the voyage began. But as the day drew along--and as day by daypassed--and as the home port and Sir Archibald's level eyes came evernearer--the skipper grew troubled. Why should the _Black Eagle_ havebeen ordered home? Why had Sir Archibald used that mysterious andunusual word "forthwith" with such emphasis? What lay behind thebrusque order? Had Tom Tulk played false? Would there be a constableon the wharf? With what would Sir Archibald charge the skipper?Altogether, the skipper of the _Black Eagle_ had never sailed a moredisquieting voyage. And when the _Black Eagle_ slipped through thenarrows to St. John's harbour he was like a dog come home for athrashing.
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[6] As related in "The Adventures of Billy Topsail."