Part 99

“Don't you suppose you can get some more out of him?”

“Might be done.”

“I feel that it's sailors against the shore pirates this time, sir. Won't you call that man out here and ask him some questions and allow me to listen?”

“Under the circumstances I'll do it. Sailors first is my motto. You step into the mate's stateroom, there, and put ear to the crack o' the door.”

But when Bradish appeared, answering the captain's summons, all his chattiness had left him. He declared that he knew nothing about the trouble in the Montana case.

“But you said something about a scheme to fool a green captain?”

“It was only gossip--I probably got it wrong. I have thought it over and really can't remember where I heard it or much about it. Might have been just newspaper faking.”

He kept peering about the dimly lighted room.

“You needn't worry, young man. That nigger isn't here.”

“But he said he was a white man. And how does he come to be interested?”

“It's a nigger gone crazy about that case--he has probably been reading fake stories in the papers, too,” stated Captain Downs, grimly. “I must remind you again, Bradish, that you were talking to me in pretty lively style.”

“Oh, a man lets out a lot of guesswork when he is nervous about his own business.”

“Well, I might fix it so that you'd be a little less nervous, providing you'll show a more willing disposition when I ask you a few questions,” probed the skipper. But this insistence alarmed Bradish and his blinking eyes revealed his fears and suspicions.

“I don't know anything about the Montana case. I don't intend to do any talking about it.”

Captain Downs tapped harder on the table, scowled, and was silent.

“Anything else, sir?” inquired Bradish, after a pause.

“Guess not, if that's the way you feel about it!” snapped Captain Downs.

Bradish went back into the main saloon, and the eavesdropper ventured forth.

“I don't know just what the dickens to do about you, now that I know who you are,” confessed the master, looking Mayo up and down.

“There isn't anything to do except let me go back to my work, sir.”

“I'm in a devil of a position. You're a captain.”

“I shipped on board here before the mast, Captain Downs, and knew exactly what I was doing. I'll take my medicine.”

“I don't like to have you go for'ard there among those cattle, Mayo.”

“Captain Downs, it was wrong for me to make the break I did on your quarter-deck. I ought to have kept still; but the thing came to me so sudden that I went all to pieces. I'd like to step back into the crew and have you forget that I'm Boyd Mayo. I'll sneak ashore in Boston and lose myself.”

The captain tipped up his cap and scratched the side of his head. “Seems as if I remember you being at the wheel, Mayo, when that fellow was unloading some pretty important information on to me.”

“I couldn't help hearing, sir.”

“So you know he's eloping with a girl?” The old skipper lowered his voice.

“Yes, sir.”