The Pirate of Panama Part 24

CHAPTER XIII

MUTINY

It was in the afternoon of the day after our encounter with Bothwell--to be more accurate, just after four bells. Miss Wallace and I were sitting under the deck awning, she working in a desultory fas.h.i.+on upon a piece of embroidery while I watched her lazily.

The languorous day was of the loveliest. It invited to idleness, made repudiation of work a virtue. My stint was over for a few hours at least and I enjoyed the luxury of pitying poor Mott, who was shut up in a stuffy cabin with our prisoner.

Yeager, too, was off duty. We could hear him pounding away at the piano in the saloon. Ragtime floated to us, and presently a s.n.a.t.c.h from "The Sultan of Sulu."

Since I first met you, Since I first met you, The open sky above me seems a deeper blue, Golden, rippling suns.h.i.+ne warms me through and through, Each flower has a new perfume since I first met you.

"T. Yeager is a born optimist," I commented idly. "Life is one long, glorious lark to him. I believe he would be happy if he knew raw, red mutiny were going to break out in twenty minutes."

"He's very likable. I never knew a man who has had so many experiences.

There's something right boyish about him."

"Even if he could give me about a dozen years."

"Years don't count with his kind. He's so full of life, so fresh and yet so wise."

"His music isn't fresh anyhow. I move we go stop it."

"Thank you, I'm very comfortable here. I don't second the motion," she declined.

"Motion withdrawn. But I'm going to tempt him from that piano just the same. Jimmie, come here. Run down to the music-room and tell Mr. Yeager that Miss Wallace would like to see him."

Evelyn laughed.

"I think you're real mean, Mr. Sedgwick."

"For saving the life of your musical soul?"

"He _is_ pretty bad," she admitted.

He was on the chorus again, his raucous exuberant voice riding it like one of his own bucking broncos.

Golden, rippling suns.h.i.+ne warms me through and through, Each flower has a new perfume since I first met you.

"Bad. He's the worst ever. Thank Heaven, we've got him stopped! There he comes with Jimmie."

He moved across the deck toward us with that little roll usually peculiar to dismounted hors.e.m.e.n of the plains.

"I _do_ like him," the young woman murmured. "He's so strong and gentle and good-natured. I don't suppose he could get mad."

"Oh, couldn't he? I'll ask him about that."

"Now I _do_ think you're mean," she reproached with a flash of her eyes.

"You sent for me, Miss Wallace? Was it to throw him overboard because he's mean?" Yeager asked genially.

Her eye was sparkling and her lips open for an answer, but the words were never spoken. For at that instant a man burst past us with blood streaming down his face from a ghastly cut in the forehead. He was making for the bridge.

"It's come," I said, rising and drawing my revolver.

"I must go to Auntie," Evelyn said, very white about the lips.

"Not now. She's perfectly safe. They won't trouble her till they have won the s.h.i.+p."

"And there will be some merry times before then, I expect," said Tom, his hand on the b.u.t.t of a revolver and his vigilant eye sweeping the deck.

We were hurrying forward to the wheelhouse. Every moment I expected to see a rush of men tearing up the companionway, but all seemed quiet and orderly. The hands on deck either had not noticed Dugan, or else were awaiting developments.

"'Twas Caine did it, sir," Dugan explained to Blythe. "I was lying in my bunk when he came down with the stowaway you were holding prisoner."

"With Bothwell?" I cried.

"Yes, sir. They asked me to join them in taking the s.h.i.+p. They put it plain they meant to get the treasure."

"Do you know which of the men is with them?" I asked.

"No, sir. Soon as I got the drift of what they were at I let Caine have my fist in his dirty mouth. He came at me with a cutlas. I got this cut before I could break away. Gallagher tried to head me, but I bowled him over."

"Do you know how Bothwell escaped?"

"Caine helped him. I heard Tot Dennis say that Mr. Mott had got his.

That was just before they spoke to me."

Evelyn sat down quickly. I think she wanted to faint. She too understood what was meant by the words that Mott had "got his."

"What about Alderson? Are you sure he can be trusted?" Blythe asked of the sailor.

"Yes, sir. I can speak for him and for Smith."

Alderson was on deck and I called him to us. He was a clean-cut seamanly fellow of about thirty. His blue eyes were frank and self-reliant.

"My man, there's mutiny aboard. That's the short of it. Are you for us or against us?"

"I'm for you, sir."

"Good. We're going to beat the scoundrels, but there is going to be fighting."

"Yes, sir."

"Bully for you!" cried Yeager, and slapped him on the back. "Can you shoot?"

"Not especially well, sir."