Chapter 36

IN POSSESSION

Masters must have struck me at almost the same instant my fist landed on Henley, for we went down together, his revolver discharging, the flying bullet gouging my shoulder, burning the flesh like a red-hot wire. Yet I grappled him even as we crashed to the deck, but the fellow lay stunned, motionless as a dead man. Everything happened quicker than I can tell it; with such rapidity, indeed, that not a hand touched me. I could barely struggle up on one knee, dazed still by the stroke which had floored me, and glance about, when the blue-jackets came tumbling over the rail, and leaped at the astounded crew of the _Sea Gull_. It was a swift, short fight, the assailants having every advantage. I saw the Lieutenant, bare-handed, dash into the group, striking out left and right, his men at his heels. There was a volley of oaths, a thud of falling bodies, a sharp command, and the shrill pipe of a boatswain's whistle. Two men rushed forward, the first disappearing behind the chart-house. The second encountered Broussard stepping off the bridge ladder, and hurled the fellow to the deck with one blow of a sledge-hammer fist. Scarcely pausing to see whether he was alive or not, the assailant ran on toward the forecastle.

The whole affair was over in two minutes, the blue-jackets circling out like a fan, and pressing their enemy into a helpless mass against the rail. For a moment the fight was furious, every man for himself, then the Lieutenant drove like a wedge into the bunch, and it was all over. I struggled to my feet, still viewing all through a mist, and swaying back and forward as I endeavored to steady myself on the rolling deck. There was no one at the wheel, and the bow of the _Sea Gull_ was swinging slowly about.

"On to the bridge there, Coates, and hold up her head," sang out the officer. "Boatswain, take charge of these beauties, and run them into the forecastle. Leave two men on guard, and take a squint into the engine room. Report to me here."

He took off his coat, examined a long slit in its side where a vicious knife had ripped it from shoulder to tail; then slipped it on again, and watched his men drive their prisoners forward.

"I 'd like to know which one of them did that," he growled, glancing toward me. "Say, what 's the matter with you--shot? You 're white as a sheet of paper, man."

"I got one on the head with a belaying pin from the heft of it. The bullet touched me--here. Lord, how it burns."

"Who did the shooting?"

"Henley here," and I touched the fellow with my foot. "He fired just as I hit him."

The Lieutenant stepped forward and looked down into the upturned face.

"So that's the man!" he exclaimed. "We 've done a good day's work. I 've heard stories of that half-breed ever since we 've been on this coast. He must be a natural devil, but he 's played hide and seek with Uncle Sam for the last time. This will be a feather in the 'old man's' cap. He 's waking up."

Henley stirred as he spoke, and opened his eyes, staring up into my face, and then at the Lieutenant's uniform. The sight of the latter perplexed him.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked angrily, making an effort to rise. "Where is Broussard?"

"Henley," I said, stepping in between them, "the game is up, and the best thing you can do now is keep quiet. This gentleman is Lieutenant Hutton, of the Revenue Cutter _Saline_, and his men have the crew of the _Sea Gull_ under hatches forward. Give me back those papers."

He had the envelope still clasped in his left hand, and he glanced at it dully, and then beyond me toward Hutton. Apparently his brain, yet numbed by the blow, failed to entirely comprehend. The Lieutenant, however, was a man of action. With grip on his collar he jerked the poor wretch to his feet, and held him there.

"Hand over those papers to Craig," he ordered shortly, "and be lively about it. I have n't anything to do with that affair, and I don't think you will have much more from now on. You are my prisoner, and you are good for a ten spot at least. Stand up, you coward." He forced him back against the rail, and glanced about the deck. The boatswain was coming aft.

"Well, Sloan, how did you find things?"

"All serene, sir; the whole crew bottled up, and mighty little fight left in them."

"The engine room?"

"The engineer was a bit ugly, sir, and had to be man-handled proper. He 's lyin' in a coal bunker with a sore head, cussin' blue. But the assistant is a young fellar, an' kin run the engines. I left him in charge with a couple o' lads lookin' after him."

"Who has the wheel?"

"Somers, sir."

"All right; have steam kept up, and make the course south, southeast. Send a couple of men here to get this boat on deck. Put all the fire-room fellows who won't work into the forecastle with the others. Here, take this man along also. He 's the Captain, but no better than the rest."

Henley started back, with some crazy hope of resistance, but the great fist of the boatswain gripped his collar.

"Come on, you," he said, jerking him savagely. "Yer bloody pirate; make another crack, an' I 'll land yer one. Is he that Henley, sir?" of the Lieutenant.

"Yes; ever hear of him?"

"Have I! Aye, many the time. He 's wanted in Galveston, sir, for somethin' worse than runnin' arms--it was a knifin' job, sir."

"And not the last either, if what Craig says is true. Take the fellow forward. Ah! there comes the _Saline_ now--just poking her nose out from behind the ridge."

I looked as he pointed, clutching the recovered papers in my hands, and forgetful of Henley. The sun had discovered an opening in the cloud bank, and a long shaft of golden light played across the water, gleaming with white caps. Into its radiance the revenue cutter was gliding, outlined against the leafy shade of Cosmos Island, her flag standing out like a board in the fresh breeze, her cutwater churning up a mass of foam. She made a beautiful picture, one that fascinated me for the moment, and caused me to forget my own immediate incidents. I was brought back to a realization of the situation by Hutton's hand on my shoulder.

"Nice-looking old girl, but, like all of her sex, a gay deceiver. Slowest tub that ever floated a U. S. flag; any coal barge could get away from her in a fair wind. Take her half an hour now to get within hailing distance, and the old man raging to learn the news. How do you feel? still groggy?"

"All right, except for a stiff headache."

"Then come into the cabin. There is nothing more to do on deck, and I want to get sight of the ship's papers. Where was the fellow cleared for?"

"Santiago."

"And his cargo?"

"Miscellaneous; mostly farm machinery--worth investigating."

"I 'll have some of the boxes broken open, but will take a squint at the papers first. What became of the girl?"

"The steward took her below, and locked her in before the fracas started."

"I thought so; I heard a little of the talk, and hung back so as to give you plenty of time." He laughed, good-humoredly. "Nice little scrap, Craig; those fellows never even heard us, until I was over the rail. By the way, is the young lady married? I never heard the whole story."

"She is a widow," I replied, a bit stiffly, resenting his flippancy of tone. "She was the wife of this Henley's half brother, but I have every reason to believe he is dead."

He looked into my face, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Let us hope the good news is true," he said soberly. "Come, don't flare up, man; I recognize the symptoms. But don't you think she will be crying her pretty eyes out down below?"

We went down the companion stairs together, into a deserted cabin. No steward was in evidence, and, finding the Captain's stateroom locked, the Lieutenant kicked open the door, and entered. I turned back, explored the passage, and finally dragged Louis out from a dark corner of the pantry. That darky was plainly in a state of funk, his legs trembling, and the whites of his eyes much in evidence.

"Oh, Lor', Massa Craig," he whined. "Ah ain't done nuthin', deed Ah ain't, sah!"

"You locked up the girl."

"Ah just had to, sah. Captain Henley he just nat'rally skin me alive, sah, if Ah don't. But Ah nebber hurt her none."

"Where is she?"

"In number five, sah; here--here am de key."

"All right, Louis," and I tossed him into one corner. "Now listen; set that table, and get some food on it quick. Make coffee, but don't wait for anything else."

"Yes, sah."

I crossed the cabin, and inserted the key. As the door opened she stood there waiting, her hands held out.