Part 25 (2/2)

The men glanced from him to Harrigan. Plainly they were deep in doubt, and the Irishman made his second masterful move. He stepped forward, dropping his stool with a crash to the floor, and clapped a hand upon Hovey's shoulder.

”I spoke too quick,” he said frankly, ”but you got me mad, bos'n. I know you're straight, an' I'm with you, for one. A man Harrigan will toiler ought to be good enough for the rest, eh?”

Jerry Hovey wiped his gleaming forehead. The kingdom of his ambition was rebuilt by this speech.

”Sit down, boys,” he ordered. ”The last man in the forecastle is with us now. We're solid. Sit down and we'll plan our game.”

The plan, as it developed after the circle re-formed, was a simple one.

They were to wait until the s.h.i.+p was within two or three days' voyage from the coast of Central America--their destination--and then they would act. They had secured to their side the firemen and the first a.s.sistant engineer. That meant that they could run the s.h.i.+p safely with the bos'n, who understood navigation, at the wheel. They would select a night, and then, on the command of Hovey, the men would take the arms which they had prepared.

One of the j.a.panese cabin boys, Kamasura, was a member of the plot. He would furnish butcherknives and cleavers from the kitchen. Besides this, there were various implements which could be used as bludgeons; and finally there were the pocketknives with which every sailor is always equipped, generally stout, long-bladed instruments. The advantage of firearms was with the officers of the s.h.i.+p, but apparently there were no rifles and probably very few revolvers aboard. Against powder and lead they would have the advantage of a surprise attack.

First, Sam Hall and Kyle were to go down to the hole of the s.h.i.+p and lead the firemen in their attack upon the oilers and wipers, most of whom had not been approachable with the plan of mutiny because they were newly signed on the s.h.i.+p. In this part of the campaign the most important feature would be the capturing of Campbell, who would be reserved for a finely drawn-out, tortured death. The firemen had insisted upon this.

In the meantime Hovey with Flint and the rest would attack the cabins of Henshaw, McTee, and the mates. Here they depended chiefly upon the effect of the surprise. If it were possible, Henshaw also was to be taken alive and reserved for a long death like Campbell. This done, they would lead the s.h.i.+p to an uninhabited part of the sh.o.r.e, beach her, and scatter over the mainland, each with his share of the booty.

Harrigan forced himself to take an active part in the discussion of the plans. Several features were his own suggestion, among others the idea of presenting a pet.i.tion for better food to Henshaw, and beating him down while he was reading it; but all the time that the Irishman spoke, he was thinking of Kate.

When the crew turned into their bunks at last, he went over a thousand schemes in his head. In the first place he might go to Henshaw at once and warn him of the coming danger, but he remembered what the bos'n had said--in such a case he would not be believed, and both the crew and the commander would be against him.

Finally it seemed to him that the best thing was to wait until the critical moment had arrived. He could warn the captain just in time--or if absolutely necessary he could warn McTee, who would certainly believe him. In the meantime there were possibilities that the mutiny would come to nothing through internal dissension among the crew. In any case he must play a detestable part, acting as a spy upon the crew and pretending enthusiasm for the mutiny.

With that shame like a taste of soot in his throat, he climbed to the bridge the next morning with his bucket of suds and his brush, and there as usual he found McTee, cool and clean in the white outfit of Henshaw. At sight of the Scotchman he remembered at once that he must pretend the double exhaustion which comes of pain and hard labor.

Therefore he thrust out his lower jaw and favored McTee with a glare of hate. He was repaid by the glow of content which showed in the captain's face.

”And the hole of the _Heron_,” he said, speaking softly lest his voice should carry to the man in the wheelhouse, ”is it cooler than the fireroom of the _Mary Rogers?_”

Harrigan glanced up, glowering.

”d.a.m.n you, McTee!”

”The palms of your hands, lad, are they raw? Is the lye of the suds cool to them?”

Another black glance came in reply and McTee leaned back against the rail, tapping one contented toe against the floor.

”It was a fine tale you told me yesterday, Harrigan,” he said at length, ”but afterward I saw Kate, and she was never kinder. I spoke of you, and we laughed together about it. She said you were like a horse that's too proud--you need the whip!”

Harrigan was in doubt, but he concealed his trouble with a mighty effort and smiled.

”That's a weak lie, Angus. When I was a boy of ten, I would of hung me head for shame if I could not have made a better lie. Shall I tell you what really happened when you met Kate? You came up smilin' an'

grinnin' like a baboon, an' she pa.s.sed you by with a look that went through you as if you were just a cloud on the edge of the sky. Am I right, McTee?”

”You've seen her, and she's told you this,” exclaimed the captain.

Harrigan chuckled his triumph and went on with the scrubbing of the bridge.

”No, Angus, me dear, I've not seen her, but when two souls are as close as hers and mine--well, cap'n, I leave it to you!”

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