Isle o' Dreams Part 17

By this time it was apparent to all that the island was the one they were seeking. It stood up out of the sea, green and fresh, except for the single peak, which was dun brown.

Dinshaw declared that this was it, and pointed out the reef which he had painted into his picture, which showed like a white ridge over the greenish water.

"It was here the _Wetherall_ struck," he said.

"But the four palm trees, and the big rock," said Trask; "I don't see them."

"Ah ha!" said Dinshaw, slyly. "I put them in to fool folks. There ain't no palm trees like them I painted."

Jarrow looked disgustedly at him, and gave orders to Peth to have the dinghy lowered.

"Are we going ash.o.r.e now?" asked Marjorie.

"No, ma'am," said Jarrow. "We can't trust the weather in a hole like this. May have to wear and git out. All hands stick close aboard to-night."

"In the morning," said Trask.

"In the mornin," echoed Dinshaw, but he seemed disappointed and scarcely able to wait for the time of going ash.o.r.e.

Trask got out his prospecting bag, and after supper they all sat on the p.o.o.p and talked and joked about what was in store for them the next day--all except Dinshaw, who, like a child, had gone to bed early, that morning would come the quicker.

Then Jarrow followed suit. Locke, Trask, and Marjorie remained for an hour's chat in the darkness after which Trask was left to himself to finish his cigar.

"Good luck, Mr. Trask," Marjorie had whispered, as she went down the companion, and he touched her hand playfully.

He remained in his deck chair for some time, with only the friendly glow of his cigar to keep him company, wondering how it would all end. For all his impatience to get to the island, now that it was lying there within stone's throw behind the whisper of the waves was.h.i.+ng its beach, he was sorry they had arrived so soon. For if there should be no gold on the island, it would be a case of turning back, and a couple of days more would see them in Manila, and Marjorie Locke homeward bound with her father. But if there should be gold! Well, that might give this voyage a new aspect, it might alter his own fortunes in such way that he could tell Marjorie Locke that he loved her.

Of course, if Dinshaw's discovery proved to be only a pocket, or no gold at all, that would put an end to things. But if there was gold in quant.i.ties that would pay for mining it, his own share might be a good stake in life. His future hung on the old man's story, that is his future considered with Marjorie Locke, and Trask had now come to the point of not being able to consider his own future alone, although he did not realize that wholly. It was a thought he kept in the back of his mind for fear it might turn out to be only a dream.

He threw his cigar into the sea, and stood up suddenly. There was a queer noise from the break of the p.o.o.p. It sounded as if someone who had been startled had fled. He did not move for several minutes. Then it came back to him that there were other things to consider besides the success of this venture in gold and his future with Marjorie Locke.

The schooner was quiet, ominously quiet. The queer noise had jarred his nerves, and now he began to wonder if there was not some menace about the decks.

He heard the main shrouds creak as if someone were going aloft and then a rustle like a whispered caution.

Without a warning, he turned and stepped abruptly into the shaft of light which came up through the companion, and went below to his room, where he shut himself in.

Whatever he did, he knew it would have to be carried on with all caution. He would have to meet sneaking and spying with the same tactics, but he was determined to keep watch throughout the night.

CHAPTER IX

TRASK UNDERTAKES A PRIVATE INVESTIGATION

Trask was more worried than he liked to admit, even to himself.

While he had nothing tangible in the way of suspicion, he disliked the manner in which events had shaped themselves, or had been shaped by Jarrow.

From the time they had raised the island, Trask had seen on the part of Jarrow a decided reluctance to arrive at anchorage before dark. There was no doubt about it. He had allowed the schooner to lag when she could have been driven ahead. Whether this was due to Jarrow's deliberate contrivance, or was the result of a tacit acceptance of Peth's dilatory ways in seamans.h.i.+p, Trask had no means of determining with accuracy. He could only draw conclusions.

It might have been that Jarrow was willing to overlook Peth's delays in order to avoid bringing on a new argument with the mate.

And Jarrow might have been wise to avoid a resumption of trouble, for, as Peth had been openly insolent and had carried a chip on his shoulder all the way from Manila, it was just as well that the captain did not give him the satisfaction of a row.

But Trask blamed Jarrow for being too complacent in small things, which had encouraged Peth to insubordination. It would have been far better if the mate had been brought into place with a sharp and short encounter which would determine just who was master, than to continue strained relations which only allowed Peth to smoulder and feed his rising anger with growls and grumbles in the hearing of the crew.

There was no doubt that Jarrow was trying to smooth things out and avoid a direct clash. He dreaded unpleasantness in the presence of Locke. But to Trask the obvious delay in coming up to the island was only a small part of his growing fears that the situation aboard the schooner was worse than a mere temporary ill-feeling between the captain and the mate.

A decided change had come over the crew. They were strangely quiet, and when Trask or Locke or Marjorie came in sight, the men were full of covert looks and signals to each other with their hands for caution and whispers.

There was a feeling of tension, a sudden stiffening of demeanour once the anchor was down. It was not so much expressed as shown by repression. There was a soberness of purpose in the most trifling details of their duties, as if a crisis long expected had arrived.

This change in manner was best exemplified by Doc Bird. Trask had noticed that when serving the table he had a way of looking over his shoulder suddenly, or taking on a look of scared intentness at any unexpected sounds from the deck or in the cabin. Doc had become strangely alert, watchful of everybody, and nervous to the point of sudden s.h.i.+vering attacks. Trask ascribed Doc's actions to an unexplained coolness which had sprung up between the steward and Shanghai Tom, although it was quite possible Doc was aware of something of the nature which had given Trask a sense of disquiet, this undercurrent of insincerity, of hidden meanings, of an evil spirit lurking under the friendly relations of Jarrow and Dinshaw with the trio who had come seeking the island.

Considering these matters, Trask undressed and put on his pajamas.

Then he opened the door of his room, and rolled into his bunk, purposely accentuating the creaking of the boards under his mattress so that any listener might be a.s.sured he had turned in for the night.

The hole cut in the upper part of Jarrow's door was open and dark.

The captain, to all appearances, had gone to sleep, but Trask had plans for the night and did not care to take chances at having them upset.

There was a mild snoring from Dinshaw's room and despite the chafing of the schooner's gear and the patter of the water under her counter, she seemed deathly quiet after the interminable groaning of her timbers during the pa.s.sage from Manila.

The swinging lamp over the cabin table was burning dimly, waves of its light was.h.i.+ng into Trask's room like the lifting of a lazy tide, and whirling grotesque shadows up and down the bulkhead.

The lighted lamp stood in the way of Trask's carrying out his plan.

He wished he had found some excuse for putting it out earlier. But he had not realized that it was to be left burning. He wanted to go out and do a little reconnoitering, but as the door of the main cabin leading forward was open, he had no way of leaving the cabin without being seen from the forecastle.

It was from the forecastle that he hoped to get some inkling of how the crew was getting on. Immediately after the anchor was down Trask observed that the crew had gone below, and, except for an occasional gruff call, or a joking sally, nothing had been seen or heard from them.

Trask was confident they had not turned in to sleep. There had been sounds of rough gaiety, promptly subdued, and a few bars of music on a mouth organ, checked abruptly. The scuttle had been closed, and Trask thought it queer that there should be a desire to shut themselves up, for while the evening was cool enough in the open, the temperature arose in a stifling way at any shutting off of the air currents.

Trask would have thought nothing of it if the crew had openly quarrelled, or engaged in skylarking, or had sat around and smoked and chatted quietly. But they appeared ominously furtive. And Trask knew that if there was anything sinister behind their skulking, Peth must have a hand in whatever was going on.

The lamp must be disposed of in a manner not to attract the attention of either the crew or those aft. He first thought of calling softly to Doc Bird and asking him to put out the light. But if Doc demurred, or declared that the light could not be extinguished except by order of Jarrow, Trask would have called attention to his own wishes and his plan would be balked.

Besides, Doc would undoubtedly want to talk, and Jarrow would thereby be disturbed and become watchful, and all hands aft be roused. If the light were put out at Trask's request, and later he was found prowling on deck, he could no longer maintain his character of being a person without suspicion of anything amiss aboard.

But if he put the light out himself, he could offer the plea that it prevented him from sleeping, and the same excuse could be given if he were later found outside for a little fresh air. If any of the crew did resent his presence forward, he would have proof that they were wary of being spied upon. That, if nothing more, would indicate to him that his suspicions were well founded.

He got out of his bunk with great care and struck a match. Then he stepped boldly into the cabin and turned down the lamp until the wick snuffed out the flame. With the match still burning in his hand, he went back to his room, thus establis.h.i.+ng for any watcher the fact that he had returned to bed after the lamp was extinguished.

Waiting a while to make sure there would be no investigation as to why the light went out, he crawled out over the coaming of the door of his room. It was necessary that he keep low, for he was not sure whether there was one of the crew on watch aft. To any one looking through the cabin from the companionway Trask would be visible against the lantern hanging from a forestay if he walked erect in crossing the cabin.

Gaining the outer deck, he stood clear of the doorway and hugged the forward bulkhead of the cabin trunk, taking care not to mask the forward port-hole of the galley with his back. If Doc Bird had heard him crawling out, he might be of an inquiring turn of mind, in his present panicky condition, and explore with a knife through the open port.

Trask had in the jacket pocket of his pajamas matches and cigarettes, so that in case he were challenged he could a.s.sume a careless manner by preparing to have a smoke, and at the same time illuminate the face of any one he encountered.