The Devil's Admiral Part 6

I could hear Meeker humming a tune and arranging his baggage. I stood for an instant and pondered over the situation, not sure that I would not be wiser to remain in Manila rather than sail in the _Kut Sang_. I s.h.i.+vered as I sensed danger about me, as one feels the presence of an intruder in the dark that cannot be seen.

Then I laughed at myself, and opened my bag for my pistols.

CHAPTER V

THE DEAD MAN IN THE Pa.s.sAGE

The _Kut Sang_ was dropping downstream as I locked my stateroom and made my way to the upper-deck, partly to get a last look at Manila, but more for the purpose of considering what I should do in the matter of telling Captain Riggs that I suspected Meeker was not a missionary.

In the last few minutes before the departure of the vessel I had suddenly been struck with the idea that Meeker was more than a mere spy who mistook me for one of his own ilk. This feeling was vague and formless, and I did not know how to begin to put together the various elements that seemed to connect some sort of a well-defined plot.

No sooner would I set about putting certain facts together than I would laugh at myself for manufacturing a mystery; and, after I had tried to shake off the impression that the _Kut Sang_ and all of us in her were more than mere travellers and seamen, the fantastic ideas insisted upon running through my head.

Through this formless ma.s.s of queer events of the day, Meeker and the little red-headed man kept to the front of my fancies, and with them the steamer _Kut Sang_.

Why, I asked myself, had Meeker made such strenuous efforts to keep me from taking pa.s.sage in the vessel? It seemed absurd to suppose that he had acted as he did, simply because he disliked the idea of having me for a fellow pa.s.senger.

Then there was Trego and Meeker's appearance at the bank, "seeking alms,"

and the further fact that Trego was in the _Kut Sang_. It seemed to be more than a coincidence that the two of them should meet as they did.

I even found something queer in the killing of the boatswain of the _Kut Sang_ at the Flags.h.i.+p Bar, and began to wonder if Petrak did not have a hand in the murder, even though he was so ready with a denial when I spoke to him about it.

As I stood at the rail of the hurricane-deck, and thought of these things, Petrak came up from the fore-deck and stood at the foot of the ladder leading to the bridge, where I could hear Captain Riggs pacing to and fro and speaking through the trap to the helmsman about the course.

The little red-headed man grinned at me and set to work polis.h.i.+ng the k.n.o.b of the wheel-house door, and not until that minute did I realize that he had come along with us in the _Kut Sang_. And he likewise reminded me at once that it was I who had brought him aboard.

"I signed on, sir," he said, pointing to his new cap, which had the steamer's name embroidered upon it. "Thanks to you, sir, I got a s.h.i.+p out."

"I am glad you did," I said curtly, not sure whether I ought to be amused at the turn of events by which I had unwittingly brought the little rascal along with me.

I glanced up the companionway to Captain Riggs, and had a mind to go up and speak to him about Meeker, but I disliked to invade the bridge, sacred territory at sea. He was standing just at the head of the ladder then, and could see me.

"Would you mind the peseta, sir?" asked Petrak.

I remembered that he had brought my bag aboard, and, finding a peso in my pocket--five times what he had asked for--I gave him the coin.

"Here," I said; "take this, and keep out of my reach. I've seen quite enough of you for a time."

"Please don't tip my crew," Captain Riggs called down to me in a pleasant manner. "The steward's department must attend to the pa.s.sengers, for we are short-handed on deck, and I can't have the men running errands."

"It's for services rendered," I told Riggs, and he nodded as if satisfied with my explanation, and turned away to the other end of the bridge.

Impulsively I started up the ladder, determined at least to tell him what I suspected of Meeker and let him judge for himself, or be on his guard against the old impostor, whether he liked my tale-bearing or not. As I put my hand out to take the ladder-guard, Petrak thrust himself before me and barred the way.

"Can't go on the bridge, sir; against orders," he said.

I fell back, convinced that he was right and that I had had a narrow escape from making an a.s.s of myself. Captain Riggs probably would not thank me for disturbing him or bothering him with idle rumours and fanciful yarns about pa.s.sengers, even though they might be spies.

The steamer was now well into the bay. The sun was at the rim of hills between us and the open sea, and the sky was aflame in a gorgeous tropical sunset.

Harris, the mate, was busy on the fore-deck battening down hatches and clearing up the litter of ropes and slings. The _Kut Sang_ was plainly enough short-handed for the pa.s.sage, for there were but half a dozen Chinese sailors in sight. Petrak worked with a cloth on the bra.s.s-k.n.o.b, and he was loafing without a doubt.

I suspected that he was afraid I was waiting for him to go away, so that I might go up the ladder to the bridge. One of the men who had brought Meeker's organ aboard had the wheel, a long, lanky c.o.c.kney he was, from what I could see of him through the window of the pilot-house.

We were well clear of the s.h.i.+ps at anchor outside the breakwater when four bells--six o'clock--struck, and Harris came up and went on the bridge, pa.s.sing without apparently seeing me. He growled something to Petrak, and the red-headed man went toward the forecastle.

"Time for Rajah to have the bell going," said Riggs as he descended to the hurricane-deck and greeted me affably. "What do you say to going below and seeing what's on the table?"

As he spoke I heard the rattle of a gong, and as I turned to go below with Captain Riggs, Meeker came around the deck-house and joined us, regarding us from under his heavy brows as he approached, and rubbing his hands in a manner that increased my growing dislike for him.

"My dear sirs," he said; "that is a beautiful sight. I have never seen, in all my twenty years in the Orient, such a sunset."

"Can't keep me from my meals," said Captain Riggs, waving to Meeker to precede him into the companionway. I was rather pleased at the captain's gruffness with him, and resolved that as soon as the opportunity offered I would discuss the crafty gentleman with Riggs.

We found Trego at table. He looked up, and made no attempt to conceal his surprise at seeing Meeker.

"Ah! Mr. Trenholm," he said to me, and we shook hands, and the Malay boy gave me the seat opposite him.

"Mr. Trego--allow me--the Reverend Meeker," said Riggs.

"So you and Mr. Trenholm have met before?" said Meeker, evidently astonished because Trego spoke to me without an introduction.

"Old friends," and I winked at Trego, to the further mystification of the pseudo-missionary, who took the seat beside me. Captain Riggs took the head of the table, so that he was between Trego and me.

"And this is Rajah, the mess-boy," said Riggs, indicating the black boy who stood behind him, clad in a white jacket with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, below which he wore a scarlet _sarong_ reaching to his bare feet, and evidently fas.h.i.+oned from an old table-cover. The hilt of a kris showed above the folds of his _sarong_, and the two lower b.u.t.tons of the jacket were left open, so that the dagger might be free to his hand. He grinned and showed his teeth.

"Dumb as a dog-fish, but can hear like a terrier," said Riggs. "Picked him up in the streets of Singapore, where he was sort of an a.s.sistant magician. He's quick with that knife, gentlemen."

The captain was obviously proud of his queer bodyguard and servant.

"It is a pity that he should be allowed to carry a fearsome weapon, which is a menace to his fellowmen," said Meeker, shrinking away from the boy.

"I believe he would slay a human over a trifle."

"Absolutely harmless unless he has some reason to anger," laughed Riggs, somewhat amused at the nervousness of Meeker. "Has to pack that cheese-knife--c.h.i.n.ks pick on him if he don't. Give him a wide berth, though, when they see that blade. Quick with it."

"But we should lead the barbarian to the light," said Meeker. "It is a dreadful example for Christians to set such people. They should not be allowed to carry such weapons--the practice leads to crime."

"Soup all around, Rajah," said Riggs, as if to close the subject.

"Do you carry deadly weapons, Mr. Trenholm? Do you approve of the bearing of arms?"

"I always have a weapon at hand," I replied seriously. "One never can tell when it will be needed in this country, and I believe in always being ready for an emergency."

"Indeed! And is it possible that you have a dagger concealed upon your person?"