The Devil's Admiral Part 8

It was the body of Mr. Trego, stabbed to the heart, the sailor's sheath-knife which had killed him still in his fatal wound.

"What the blue blazes does this mean?" demanded Captain Riggs, turning to us as if we could explain the tragedy. "What in the name of Sally Ann has happened here? Tell me that?"

"Can that be our friend, Mr. Trego, who was with us but a minute ago?"

asked Meeker, aghast as he gazed at the waxen features of the dead man.

"It's Mr. Trego right enough," shouted Riggs. "It's Trego and no doubt of that! Well, I'm blowed!"

"Who could have done such an awful thing?" whispered Meeker, staring at me with wide-open eyes. "Who could have done this?"

"Don't ask me!" Captain Riggs bawled at him. "Don't ask me!"

"He's quite dead," said Meeker, leaning forward again. "In the midst of life we are in death."

He held his hands over the dead man and said a prayer.

CHAPTER VI

THE RED-HEADED MAN MAKES AN ACCUSATION

"That's all very pious and according to Hoyle," said Captain Riggs, breaking into wrath as Meeker finished his prayer over the body of Trego.

"But I'd have you know, sir, that the _Kut Sang_ is no bally chapel, and I don't take murder aboard me as a regular custom, and let it go at that.

Somebody will have to answer for this at the end of a rope, or my name's not Riggs. Hereafter when there's praying to be done I'll order it."

"I was merely speeding a departing soul," said Meeker.

"That's all very well, Mr. Meeker, but I've got to see what this is all about, and why--Mr. Trego is supercargo in charge of the s.h.i.+p and--"

Riggs stopped suddenly when he realized that he had told us the secret which Trego wished kept from us.

"Well, I've got trouble enough," he said, confused at what had happened.

"Nothing irregular, I trust," said Meeker, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise and observing me cautiously.

"Too blasted irregular to suit me," said Riggs. "Gentlemen, I may as well tell you that this man is down on the pa.s.senger-list as a pa.s.senger like yourselves, but at the last minute before we sailed he showed papers as supercargo and announced that he was in charge of the s.h.i.+p, and that he represented the charter party. The truth of his statements was borne out by a messenger from the owners. He told me that he would explain it all as soon as we got to sea, and now he has been killed. Is it any wonder I am upset about it?"

"It is pa.s.sing strange," said Meeker. "Will you have to turn back to Manila on account of this?"

"My last orders to proceed to Hong-Kong at the best speed still stand.

The Dutchman, Rajah--the Dutchman," and he made a sign to the Malay boy to call the second mate.

The three of us gathered at the end of the table and steadied ourselves in the minute we waited for the Dutchman, who soon came clumping down the pa.s.sage. He nearly stumbled over the body lying just outside the coaming of the door, and then stopped and stared at the dead man.

"Gott!" he said, and then looked at Riggs questioningly.

"Take the bridge and have Mr. Harris muster the crew--all hands, and look sharp," said Riggs. "Have every man Jack of 'em up here, and let us see what they have been about. Have Mr. Harris muster the crew! Hear me?

Don't stand there like a barn-owl! Relieve Mr. Harris, and have all hands aft!"

He hurried away, and that was the last I ever saw of the second mate of the _Kut Sang_. Rajah and a Chinese sailor spread old canvas close to the door inside the saloon, and lifted Trego's body on it.

Harris came up the pa.s.sage and leaned against the door. He had on an old pair of dungaree trousers and a jacket that had been white, and his bare feet were thrust into native heelless slippers.

"This is a nice mess, ain't it?" he growled, looking coldly at the scene before him. "Who let the knife into him?"

"That's what we want to find out at once," said Riggs. "Have all hands up here, the watch below and all. Muster them in the pa.s.sageway, and let them in here one at a time, the white hands first. We've got to get at the bottom of this affair right away, Mr. Harris."

"Like as not somebody'll know the knife, cap'n," suggested the mate.

"That's it, Mr. Harris. Bring 'em up here with a sharp turn and no laying back, and you be here so I can find out what every man has been at in the last quarter of an hour--you know what this means."

We sat down at the table, Riggs at the end in a pivot-chair swung toward the door of the pa.s.sage. He took off his gla.s.ses and wiped them in an officious manner, and sent Rajah for a pad of paper and a pencil.

"Then this poor Mr. Trego was not a pa.s.senger," said Meeker, leaning his elbows on the table and scanning Riggs closely.

"Gentlemen," began the captain, clearing his throat and adjusting his silver-rimmed spectacles again, "I am going to hold an inquiry now, and, as witnesses to what takes place, I think you should know the facts in the case, as far as I know them.

"There is something about this business that has carried by with me.

Never had anything like this happen aboard me in the thirty years that I've had a command. First time since I've had a master's ticket that I haven't had the full confidence of the owners.

"This man Trego was very mysterious, and why he wanted to sail as a pa.s.senger when he was supercargo, and keep it from you, gentlemen, is past me. Perhaps I should not have said anything about this end of it until I have examined his papers, but as witnesses I want you to know the facts as they lay."

"A most mysterious affair--most mysterious," agreed Meeker, shaking his head and fingering his sh.e.l.l crucifix. "What are the details of the man's coming aboard, captain? I am not quite clear on that point."

"He was down as a pa.s.senger, just as you gentlemen are. I never saw him before until Mr. Harris called me forward before the lines were cast off.

He told me that this man wanted to take charge of lading the last of the cargo--cargo that was manifested as machinery. His papers were right, and the messenger from the owners made it all as he said.

"It is not for me to question the acts of the owners, but I should have been advised of the circ.u.mstances. However, Mr. Trego was going to explain. It may be all right and nothing out of the ordinary, but now that this has happened I'm all back, and I'm left to guess what it all means if I can."

"What was the cargo?" asked Meeker.

"Machinery, so far as the manifest says. Several cases--By George! He had it stowed in the storeroom--"

He was interrupted by Harris bawling in the pa.s.sage, and the Chinese stokers swarming up the fire-room ladder, chattering and yelling to their mates below. The news of the murder had spread through the s.h.i.+p and had created a great turmoil.

The mate thrust a man into the doorway, whom I recognized as one of the men who had brought Meeker's organ on board.

"Here's one of the new men, sir," said Harris, "Says he has been for'ard since going off watch. He's next at the wheel, sir."

"Now, then," began Riggs, with pencil poised, "what's your name in the s.h.i.+p's articles?"

"Buckrow, sir," said the sailor, staring at a lamp, and avoiding the figure of Trego almost at his feet.

I observed him closely, and was not pleased with his appearance. His large mouth carried a leering, insolent expression and his nose was broken, hanging a trifle to one side. He was short, with great hulking shoulders. His black s.h.i.+rt was open at the neck, and he wore blue navy trousers with the familiar wide bottoms. His brown forearms were covered with tattoo-marks.