Chapter 14

WHAT JARROW WANTED AND WHAT HE GOT

Captain Jarrow spent an hour or two loafing about the schooner and swearing under his breath as he regarded the shore, where the crew was going through mysterious incantations.

But Trask understood that Doc was initiating them into the mysteries of smelting out gold from sand. To all appearances, it was utterly devoid of anything approaching gold.

Finally, after a conference with Locke and Marjorie, Trask put before the captain the matter of bringing Dinshaw back. But Jarrow was inclined to be sulky about it. He objected to having "it put up to him to bring the fool aboard," as he expressed it.

"None of us will leave the schooner under the circumstances," declared Trask.

"But I want the cook," said Jarrow. Trask had joined him on the forecastle and the others remained in the cabin.

"The cook stays right here with us," said Trask. "I don't intend to take a chance at losing another man."

"You don't seem to look on me as worth much," said Jarrow, as he gazed at the column of smoke which rose straight in the air and hung over the island like a volcanic vapour, spreading out into a funnel-shaped cloud.

"If Peth was willing to put you on board, I don't see that he'd interfere with you if you went ashore," said Trask. "As I see it, you can pull over, get Dinshaw, and come back. You don't need to go near that gang on the beach."

"Can't ye let me have the gun?"

"No." Trask walked away from Jarrow, satisfied that the captain would take no action so long as there was a possibility of continuing the argument.

Not long afterward, while the three in the cabin were playing cards and Tom was preparing lunch, Jarrow came shambling aft, and without a word went over the side and into the long boat. When Trask went out on deck the captain was pulling slowly for the shore, making a course to land near where Dinshaw was toiling in the broiling sun at his sand piling.

All hands deserted the cabin to see what would happen. As the boat approached the beach, Doc was seen to leave those about the fire, and proceed toward Dinshaw, with the avowed purpose of heading the captain off.

Jarrow made his way leisurely, and ran the boat on the shingle. He stood watching Doc and waiting for him, and when the steward had come close and stopped as if in doubt as to what the captain's attitude would be, Jarrow beckoned him on with a peremptory gesture.

There was a parley, which ended with Doc returning to the fire, and then Jarrow approached Dinshaw. The old man looked up and waved his hand as if pointing out the result of his labours.

Jarrow kicked the sand, and got down to examine it. Then he said something to Dinshaw, and the latter got up and followed him obediently to the boat. Soon they were heading back for the schooner, Dinshaw serving an oar.

"What's the news?" asked Trask, as the boat drew near.

"They want to come back," said Jarrow. "Peth sends word that if you'll take 'em, they'll return to duty if you'll call it square. Seems like they've tried a wrinkle of burnin' the sand to git gold, but it won't work, an' they're plumb disgusted."

"We won't take Peth's word about anything," said Trask.

"I guess they got a belly full o' this business," was Jarrow's comment as he brought the boat alongside. "You make a mistake not to take 'em up. We'd be in a bad hole here if it come on to blow hard. Ye better let me signal 'em back."

Trask said nothing to this, but helped Dinshaw over the side. The old man seemed utterly spent, and appeared to be in a daze from the sun. He looked about as if he had seen none of them before, and smiled, whispering something about gold, holding up his hands and looking at them.

"He thinks the sand is gold," said Jarrow. "I looked it over and it's no more gold than I am."

Marjorie spoke to Dinshaw, but he merely blinked at her, and she took him away to the cabin and gave him food and drink.

"What's this Doc said about you cookin' gold out of sand?" asked Jarrow.

"Brass filings," said Trask, promptly, and took some of the particles from his trousers pocket and dumped them into Jarrow's palm. "Had my suspicions of him, and wanted to see if he'd give me a double cross. And he has the nerve to want to come back!"

Jarrow grinned and examined the grains of brass, and with a remark that it was all a crazy business, announced his intention of getting some sleep.

"Call me, Mr. Trask, if this calm breaks, and we'll git out. I'm disgusted."

Dinshaw had suffered a sort of collapse, or coma, and he was put to bed likewise. Trask managed to get up an awning, and out on deck, where they could keep watch on shore, they lunched in comparative comfort.

Locke, now satisfied that the whole venture was a mad sort of lark, took it all in jocular mood, and chaffed Marjorie about her desire to go adventuring in the tropics. But Trask knew that he had been much more worried than either himself or Marjorie, and that his sallies were the result of his relief from strain about how things would turn out for them.

Shanghai Tom had become the pet of the trio, and while he maintained his outward imperturbability, it was evident that he was quite proud of his exploit in overcoming and disposing of the treacherous Doc Bird. Trask had promised him a reward on their return to Manila, at which he had remarked, "Me no catchum for cash," and shook his head. The Chinaman either from pique at the crew's total disregard of him in their plans or from a real liking for the passengers themselves had lined himself up on the side of the Lockes and Trask.

The crew deserted their fire and took to the jungle, leaving a pile of smouldering ashes on the sand, and during the afternoon there was nothing to be seen of them. The dinghy was in plain sight, pulled up on the beach, just beyond where they had essayed their attempts at reducing ore by the "cooking" method.

Trask managed to get a nap lying in a steamer chair under his improvised awning, for it was agreed that if they had to remain at their anchorage for the night, he would have to share a watch with Jarrow.

In spite of the captain's evident desire to abandon the crew to their fate, Trask still had a lurking suspicion that Jarrow was more in sympathy with Peth's demands for extra money than his heated language against the mate implied. And the young man was determined that he would not relax his vigilance once Jarrow was on deck again. So while he slept, Locke sat in the doorway of the cabin and read while Marjorie played solitaire under a corner of the awning and kept a watch toward shore.

Jarrow appeared late in the afternoon, and was rather morose and silent. He went out on the forecastle and smoked, scanning the sea and sky and complaining to himself that there was no wind. The sea was as smooth as a field of liquid metal, great glassy swells extending to the horizon all round, glinting in the sun. The heat was oppressive until the sun dropped to the sea's rim, when dark wind patches made their appearance to the southward on the surface of the ocean. But still the calm held.

While the sky and sea were yet suffused with crimson from the sun's afterglow Jarrow came aft, and without a word to any one, or even a look, went on the poop, going up the port side.

Marjorie went in and peeped into Dinshaw's room. The old man was sleeping, breathing gently, but lying like a man utterly exhausted, flat on his back in his bunk.

As she came out on deck, where Trask and Locke sat watching the sea and reconciling themselves to another night aboard the schooner in the bight of the reef, Jarrow's voice came over the cabin trunk in a low growl as he cleared his throat.

"We better talk this thing over," he suggested.

"All right, captain," said Locke. "Suppose you come down here."

Jarrow appeared at the starboard break of the poop, his hands on his hips, a cigar aslant in his mouth. He gave the trio a critical glance, and turned his head toward the island.

"Not much chance to get out to-night," began Locke. "Do you look for a breeze?"

"I don't look for nothin'," said the captain, without looking at Locke. "I been thinkin' this thing over," he said presently, chewing his words with his cigar. "I'm out of pocket on this deal."

"How do you mean?" asked Locke, with a startled glance at Trask. He had detected a belligerent note in the captain's voice.

"Just this," said Jarrow, with sudden vehemence, slapping his hand down on the cabin roof, and turning a savage visage at the three sitting below him: "I come on this trip lookin' to make a piece o' money. I figured there'd be a couple of weeks here at the least--you'd go lookin' for gold, an' maybe find it, an' I'd git a look-in. Now ye want to skip out for Manila again. Where do I git off?"

Trask sprang to his feet, his face scarlet with rage.

"You sit down, young feller," said Jarrow, holding up a hand for attention. "Don't go off half-cocked."

"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Locke. His back was to Jarrow, and he did not get up.

Trask stood glaring at Jarrow with trembling lips and set jaw. The captain pushed his cap back on his head and puffed a couple of times at his cigar before he spoke.

"I mean you can't git out of here, wind or no wind, without me. And what's more, ye won't go when I do but ye'll pay me for my time, and I'll make it fair enough."

"You're in with Peth!" exclaimed Trask, and made a move toward his pistol pocket.

"I'm in with Peth," admitted Jarrow. "He didn't work it just the way I wanted, but now it's come to a show down. This schooner is for sale for twenty thousand dollars. I guess that's fair enough, seein' the jam ye're in, and the young lady along."

"I've half a mind to take a shot at you," said Trask.

"Go ahead and shoot," said Jarrow. "That's my chance. I'll risk it. But you've got to handle the rest of the crew before mornin', don't forgit that."

"Twenty thousand dollars," said Locke, musingly, and looked at Marjorie, who stared at Jarrow as if she could not believe her ears.

"My price," said Jarrow. "I thought I'd say somethin' about it before the boys come out. They'll be makin' along out this way in a few minutes. It'll save messin' things up to reach a bargain before they come."

"The first man that tries to come aboard----" began Trask.

"You can't kill 'em all," said Jarrow, grinning. "Oh, it's cheap at the price. You'll find it a lot more comfortable to see this thing the way it lays. You shoot me, and it's all off with ye. The boys'll just have to boat off down the coast and say ye was lost with the schooner. That's easy enough."

"You're a murderin' scoundrel," said Locke, quietly.

"I'm out for the coin," said Jarrow. "Work with me, and it'll be all right."

"Sit down, Mr. Trask," said Locke. "We might as well go about this in a business way."

"Now ye're talkin'," said Jarrow.

"What's your proposition?" asked Locke. "Tom! Bring me my cigar-case."

"I'm sellin' the schooner for twenty thousand. I left word in Manila at your bank that you had a mind to buy, an' you'd pay ten thousand. That's a fair price. My bank thinks ye're goin to buy, too, so that's another ten. I won't have no trouble cashin' two checks on you. I cashed your checks in both banks before we left, and they're sort o' trained to it."

"You're playing a dangerous game," said Locke. "Do I understand you're to put us down in Manila and then go up to the banks and cash checks on me?"

"No," said Jarrow. "You stay here on the island, hid away. If I don't git the money, it's you who's playin' a dangerous game."

"But how are we to get away from here?" asked Locke.

"We'll send the schooner back, after we've had time to git clear of Manila. May be five or six days after we git our money, but I'll send it right enough. Of course, I could ask more, an' take a wide chance, but I ain't hoggin' things. It ought to be worth gittin' out without trouble for you folks. And ye'll git some of yer money back out o' this old wagon. Say the word, an' I'll signal the boys to come back, all peaceful, an' no shootin'. If ye don't want to take it my way, I'm done talkin'. The others look for fight, an' Peth's got my gun's well's his own. So, if you want fireworks, it ain't my funeral."

"I'll take you up," said Locke, as he reached for his cigar-case. "You'll let us have Tom--and what we need?"

"Everything ye want," said Jarrow, with satisfaction. "Only don't come no didoes with me or the checks. If I ain't here to tell Peth it's all right when he comes alongside, he'll cut loose on ye in the dark."

"I'm giving you my word that we'll play fair, as you call it. You'll get your checks, and all I ask is fair play in return."

"My way o' lookin' at it," said Jarrow. "I thought you'd find it a open an' shut game, an' I spoke as I did so's you'd have time to pack an' stow the boats, if ye don't want to stay aboard to-night. But there ain't no call for you leavin' here 'less we git a wind."

"We'll take that up later," said Locke.

"I'd like a letter from you, as how ye've bought the schooner," said Jarrow. "Ye can say's ye've decided to remain here, and I'm to attend to some things in Manila, so's it'll look natural like."

"As you say," said Locke. "If you'll fetch my coat, I'll write out a check--the checks. And my pen's with the book."

"I'll bring some paper," said Jarrow, with a glance at Trask. "If you don't mind, unload your gun, and give me the ca'tridges. I'll turn 'em over to ye when ye leave for the island. How's that?"

"I'll compromise," said Trask. "Suppose Miss Locke keeps the gun? You'd hardly expect Miss Locke to shoot you in the back, would you?"

"I'll take the ca'tridges," said Jarrow, coming down and holding out his hand. "I ain't figurin' on anybody changin' their mind, but it'll be better to make sure."

"Give him what he wants," said Locke. "We'll play the game as the cards run."

So Trask took out the magazine, and removed the cartridge from the chamber of the pistol and surrendered the ammunition.

Jarrow went into his room for the paper, and they heard him fumbling in the little bulkhead desk.

"No use arguing with a man when he's got the drop on you," said Locke. "If it wasn't for Miss Trinkets, here, it might be different. But I'd rather pay up than see anybody hurt."

Trask sat with his empty pistol across his knees, thoroughly dejected, staring out over the blood-red sea. Already a star, close to the horizon, had popped out, and the top of the island was gathering gloom.

"I was a fool ever to take you people on such a wild-goose chase," said Trask. "I'll have to pay you back every dollar of this, Mr. Locke."

"Pay nothing," said Locke.

"I'm the one to blame, Dad," said Marjorie, laying her hand on his arm. She was quite white, but she smiled faintly. "And you can't blame yourself, Mr. Trask. It was all my plan from the first, Dad. We plotted to inveigle you into coming to the island, at least I abetted Mr. Trask, and I'm glad I came."

"I'm satisfied----" said Locke, with a whimsical smile, and before he could go on he was interrupted by a scream of rage inside the cabin.

They all sprang up as Tom dashed from the galley and looked into the captain's cabin. They saw the white form of the Chinese against the dark interior, and heard a terrific struggle going on, with the sound of shoes being hammered against the bulkhead.

As the three pressed in to look over Tom's shoulder Dinshaw leaped from the deck of the captain's cabin, and yelling like mad, ran up the companion and dived over the taffrail.

Trask ran after him in time to hear him splash into the water, and turning to come through the cabin for the long boat, heard Jarrow sobbing on the deck, and crawling about, or so it seemed, for the captain's arms were moving like a swimmer's although he was making no progress forward. And as he struggled, he gave gasping cries.

"What's happened?" cried Locke.

"He killum cap'n," said Shanghai Tom, and stooping down, picked up a knife. It was a long knife from the galley rack.

Marjorie ran from the cabin, overcome with horror, and Trask followed, with the intention of getting the long boat away to save Dinshaw. But as he paused, poised on the bulwark to jump down into the boat, he looked aft. There was no trace of Dinshaw.

"Go to the taffrail and look," he called to Marjorie. She hastened to the poop-deck while he got the boat off, which swung with the tide, and drifted aft as he paddled with the big oar, standing in the stern.

For an instant there was a white object visible against the dark water, as if a fish had broken the surface. Whatever it was, it was being swept away swiftly by the tide. Before Trask could reach the spot where it had appeared, the water was smoothed out in a steely sheen. Dinshaw had been whirled away to the coral depths below.

It was growing dark as Trask rowed back. As he came alongside the schooner he saw Locke standing beside Marjorie.

"Dead," said Locke.

From shore there came a confused chorus of cries. Trask listened, and across the darkening waters he saw a white spot drifting out slowly, and then in the evening hush heard the clatter of oars.

"The cartridges!" he cried. "They're coming out, Peth and the others. With Jarrow dead, we've a fight on our hands!"

He leaped over the bulwark, and dashed into Jarrow's cabin, to regain the ammunition he had surrendered. A blazing match revealed Jarrow lying on his back, his face distorted and spotted. Trask found the cartridges loose in the captain's coat pocket, and hurried out of the cabin.