Part 109

“Kill me if you want to,” he invited. “I've got to die, and it don't make a mite of difference how. Murder me if you're so inclined.”

“Man--man--man, what's the matter with you?” gasped Mayo. “We've got a chance! Here's a girl to save!”

“She hain't got no business being here. Was sneaked aboard. It's no use to pound me. I won't lift a finger. My mind is made up. I've been deserted by the Old Man.”

“You old lunatic, Captain Downs got carried away by those cowards. Wake up! Help me! For the love of the Lord, help me!”

“Rushing around will only take my mind off'n thoughts of the hereafter, and I need to do some right thinking before my end. It ain't any use to threaten and jaw; nothing makes any difference to me now.”

Mayo saw the uselessness of further appeal, and the fellow dangled as limply as a stuffed dummy when the young man shook him. Therefore Mayo gave over his efforts and hurried back to the long-boat. The spectacle of the girl struggling with the stuff she was jettisoning put new determination into him. Her amazing fortitude at the time when he had looked for hysterics and collapse gave him new light on the enigma of femininity.

“Did you tell me that Bradish is ill?” he asked, hurriedly.

“He is in the cabin. He would not talk to me. I could not induce him to come on deck.”

“I must have help with the tackle,” he told her, and started aft on the run.

He found Bradish sprawled in a morris-chair which was lashed to a radiator. He expected hot words and more insults, but Bradish turned to him a face that was gray with evident terror. His jaw sagged; his eyes appealed.

“This is awful!” he mourned. “What has happened on deck? I heard the fighting. Where is Miss Mar-ston?”

“She is forward. There has been an accident--a bad one. We have lost the captain and crew. Come on. I need help.”

“I can't help. I'm all in!” groaned Bradish.

“I say you must. It's the only way to save our lives.”

Bradish rolled his head on the back of the chair, refusing. His manner, his sudden change from the fighting mood, astonished Mayo. The thought came to him that this man had been pricked to conflict by bitter grudge instead of by his courage.

“Look here, Bradish, aren't you going to help me save that girl?”

“I'm not a sailor. There's nothing I can do.”

“But you've got two hands, man. I want to get a boat overboard. Hurry!”

“No, no! I wouldn't get into a small boat with these waves so high. It wouldn't be safe.”

“This schooner is sinking!” shouted Mayo. He fastened a heavy clutch upon Bradish's shoulders. “There's no time to argue this thing. You come along!”

He hauled Bradish to his feet and propelled him to the companionway, and the man went without resistance. It was evident that real danger and fear of death had nearly paralyzed him.

“There's nothing I can do!” he kept bleating.

But Mayo hurried him forward.

“Ralph!” cried the girl, fairly lashing him with the tone in which she delivered the word. “What is the matter with you?”

“There's nothing I can do. It isn't safe out here.”

“You must do what this man tells you to do. He knows.”

But Bradish clung to the gunwale of the long-boat and stared out at the yeasty waves, blinking his eyes.

“If I only had a couple of men instead of these two infernal tapeworms,” raged Mayo, “I could reeve tackle and get this boat over. Wake up! Wake up!” he clamored, beating his fist on Bradish's back.