19000 Pound Part 12

Every pa.s.senger, his address, description, and destination had been listed; the evidence of the second mate, doctor, steward, and purser had been committed to paper and signed.

The two berthed cabin spoke for itself--eloquently.

The pa.s.sengers were allowed to land at last. There was no reasonable excuse for their further detention.

The crowds waiting on sh.o.r.e had wondered at the delay, but the first man off told the news, and it spread.

The extra editions of the newspapers sold well that evening. It is an ill wind which fails to inflate the circulation of the newspapers.

The people a.s.sembled at the pier gradually dispersed, moving away with the friends they had come to meet, until at last only the working staff of boat and sh.o.r.e hands were around.

The public had gone home--all save one member of it, a tall, bony, dressed in country style woman.

She had started from home with whole white cotton gloves on.

As she stood watching the boat now, there was not a whole finger left in one of the gloves--she had nibbled them off in her anxiety.

She attracted the attention of the hands discharging the cargo, and was the object, among themselves, of many humorous remarks.

"Waitin' for some one, missus?" at last one of the men inquired of her.

She was glad. She had been afraid to come forward and make inquiries.

Now the spell was broken, she said:

"Yes. Have all the pa.s.sengers landed?"

"There's one--or two--still aboard," the man answered, grimly.

But the grimness was lost on the woman. She gave a sigh of relief. She had yet to learn that the pa.s.sengers spoken of by the man had crossed the Stygian Ferry as well as the Atlantic.

"Mebbe one of 'em's the one I've come to meet."

"I hope not."

"Why?"

The man disregarded the question. Something had occurred to him. He inquired:

"What might be the name of the person you've come to meet?"

The woman hesitated a moment, and then answered:

"Depew."

The man suppressed a whistle of astonishment, and repeated the name:

"Depew!"

"Yes; George Depew. Was he aboard, do you know?"

"Wait here a moment, missus--don't go away. I'll go and inquire for you."

He disappeared in the s.h.i.+p. He went to the captain's cabin, and knocked at the door.

The police officers and witnesses were there discussing the murder.

"Come in."

And he went. Touched his cap, then took it off, and spoke:

"Woman outside, sir--been waitin' long time."

"Well?"

"I spoke to her--asked who she was waitin' for."

"Yes."

"Said for Depew--George Depew."

The plain clothes officer was on his feet in a moment inquiring:

"Where is she?"

"On the pier."

"I'll go and see her; come, point her out to me."

They left the cabin. The tall, gaunt woman was standing where the sailor had left her. Thanking the man, the officer went towards her.

"They tell me," he said pleasantly, "that you are waiting for a pa.s.senger."

"Yes."

"Perhaps you did not see him land."

"I never took my eyes off the gangway."

"Then you think he is aboard."

"I understood the man to say there were one or two pa.s.sengers there still."

The detective suppressed a smile at the grim humor of the sailor's remark. They were there still--very still.

"What is the name of the person you were expecting to meet?"

Again there was a slight hesitation before the woman spoke. Then she said:

"Depew."