Part 135

Even more disquieting were the statements that the avenues of credit ashore had been closed. Malicious assertions could ruin the project more effectually than could dynamite. But now that the Conomo had withstood the battering of a gale and bulked large on the reef, a visible pledge of value, it did seem that Captain Candage must be able to find somebody who would back them.

For two days Mayo waited with much impatience, he and his men doing such preliminary work as offered itself.

He expected that Fogg would send a relief expedition, but his apprehensions bore no fruit. His prisoner was sourly reticent and by the few words he did drop seemed to console himself with the certainty that retribution awaited Mayo.

On the third day came the schooner. She came listlessly, under a light wind, and her limp sails seemed to express discouragement and disappointment. Mayo, gazing across to her as she approached, received that impression, in spite of his hopes. He got a glimpse of Captain Candage's face as he came to the steamer's side in his dory, and his fears were confirmed.

“'Tain't no use,” was the skipper's laconic report as he swung up the ladder.

“You mean to say you didn't get a rise out of anybody?”

“Nothing doing nowhere. There's a fat man named Fogg in Limeport, and he is spreading talk that we 'ain't got law or prospects. Got a few men to listen to me, but they shooed me off when they found that we wouldn't take 'em in and give 'em all the profits. Went to Maquoit and tried to get Deacon Rowley into the thing--and when I go and beg favors of Deacon Rowley, you can imagine how desperate I am. He's a cash-down fellow--you have found that out.”

“But couldn't you show him that this is the best gamble on the coast?”

“He ain't a gambler; he's a sure-thing operator. And when he knew that we had put in all our cash, he threatened to take the schooner away from us unless we go back to fishing and 'be sensible'--that's the way he put it. So then him and me had that postponed row.”

“But look at her,” pleaded Mayo, waving his hand, “Ice off her, sound in all her rivets after her beating. If we could get the right men out here now--”

“I ain't confident, myself, no more,” stated Captain Candage, running an eye of disfavor over their property. “If ye get out here away from level-headed business men and dream about what might happen, you can fool yourself. I can see how it is with you. But I've been ashore, and I've got it put to me good and plenty. I did think of one way of getting some money, but I come to my senses and give it up.”

“Getting money--how?”

“No matter. I'd cut off both hands before I'd let them hands take that money for a desp'rit thing like this. Let's sell her for scrap to the first man who'll take her--and then mind our own business and go fishing.”

“Will you take your turn aboard here and let me go ashore?”

“There ain't no sense in us wasting more time.”

“I've done my trick here, Captain Candage, and it has been a good one. I only ask you to take your trick, as a shipmate should. Keep a dozen of the men here with you. There's plenty of grub. Stand off all comers till I get back.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Make a man's try, sir, before I let 'em dump us. We can always go fishing. But there's only one Conomo.”

“I'll stay. It's only fair to you to have your chance ashore. And I've got an almighty good rifle aboard that schooner,” stated the skipper. “Send it to me by one of the men.”

“You may need it,” stated Captain Mayo, with grim set to his jaw. “You come with me. I want to show you a bird that flew aboard here the other day.”

Outside the stateroom door he halted Captain Candage, who was following on his heels, taking Mayo's statement literally, and showing only mild interest.

“Captain Candage, your man, Art Simpson, is in this stateroom. He came out here on a tug with a bag of dynamite, and intended to blow up this wreck.”

“Gawd-a-mighty, ain't they going to stop at anything?” croaked the old skipper.

“It's about time for us to find out how much of this is reckless devilishness on the part of hired men and how much the big men really know of what is being done on this coast, sir. And that's why I'm holding this man Simpson.”

“Let me at him!” pleaded Candage. “I'll crack his shell for him! I'll get at his meat!”

Mayo unlocked the door and walked in.

“Simpson, you--” bawled the old skipper, and then halted in confusion, his mouth wide open.

“This ain't Art Simpson!” he declared, after amazed survey of the glowering stranger. “Who be ye?”