LITMIR.BIZ

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his bulk to the little campstool, which groaned beneath his weight. She sat on a chair between them, while she looked from face to face.

      “When you came in you were friends,” she said, “and the only thing that could bring you to friendship was danger. There is danger. What?”

      They exchanged glances of wonder at this shrewd interpretation.

      “There is danger,” said McTee at length, “and it’s a danger which is something more than the mutiny, perhaps.”

      “I will tell it,” said Harrigan.

      He drew his chair closer to Kate and leaned over so that his face was near hers. She knew at once that he had forgotten all about the presence of McTee.

      “Kate, I will not lie to ye, colleen”—here McTee set his teeth, but Harrigan went on—“I hate McTee, and it’s for your sake that I hate him. And it’s for your sake that I’m goin’ to forget it for a while. There’s throuble abroad—there’s a cloud over this ship an’ a curse on it—”

      “What he means to say,” broke in McTee, and then he became aware that she had not heard him speak, and he saw her smiling as she drank in the musical brogue of the Irishman.

      “A curse on it, acushla, an’ a promise av death that only two shtrong men can save you from—an’ McTee is shtrong—so I’ve put away desire av killin’ him till we get you safe an’ sound to the shore, colleen, acushla; but ye must trust in us, an’ follow us as ye love your life an’ as I love ye!”

      She straightened in her chair and turned her eyes toward McTee.

      “And you cannot tell me what the danger is?”

      “We cannot,” he answered, “but you must pay no attention to anything that happens or to anything that is said to you by others. There are only two men on the Heron whom you can trust—and here we are. But there may be wild happenings on the Heron. Keep your courage and trust in Angus McTee and—”

      “And Harrigan,” broke in the Irishman quickly, with a glare at the captain.

      She reached an impulsive hand to both of them, and they met the clasp, keeping, as it were, one eye upon her and one eye of hate upon each other.

      She said, and her voice was low and musical with exultation: “I’ve no care what happens. I know we shall pull through safely. The three of us—Dan, Angus—we lived through the storm when the Mary Rogers sank, we lived on the island and survived, we reached the Heron in safety, and as long as we stay together, we’d be safe if the whole world were against us. Don’t you feel it?”

      She rose, and they stood up, towering above her, while she went on in a voice trembling somewhat: “But we must not be seen together if all these dangers threaten us; they must not know that the three of us are like one great heart.”

      They stepped back, and McTee pulled open the door, but still she retained their hands, and now she raised them both to her lips with a gesture so swift that they could not resist it.

      “Both of you,” she said; “God bless you both!”

      CHAPTER 31

      She released their hands; the door closed upon them; they stood facing each other on the deck in the dark.

      “McTee,” said Harrigan with deep emotion, “we’re swine. We were about to fight before—her.”

      “Harrigan,” said McTee, “we are swine. But when the time comes, we’ll make up for it to her. If you hear a word in the forecastle, let me know about it; if I hear a word in the captain’s cabin, I’ll send for you. I may be wrong. Henshaw may be in his right senses. We’ll see. In the meantime there are just the two of us, Harrigan, and against us there’s a mutinous crew on one side and a mad captain, I think, on the other.”

      “There’s no use in thinkin’,” said Harrigan; “when the time comes, we’ll fight. So long, Angus. When the trouble starts, our assemblin’ point is Kate.”

      And he went forward to the forecastle. In the morning he discovered what he wanted to know. The men were aloof from him. He was conscious of eyes upon him whenever his back was turned, but while he faced them, no one would meet his glance.

      In some way Hovey had learned that Harrigan was no longer to be trusted as a member of the mutineers, and he must have spread his tidings among the rest of the sailors. What he sensed in those covert glances, however, was not an immediate danger, but rather a waiting—an expectancy, and he deduced rightly that they would not attempt to lay a hand upon him until the mutiny was started. Then he would be reserved for some lingering death as a traitor doubly dyed.

      While they were eating breakfast, Hovey came in late with the word that during the night someone had tampered with the dynamo, and the result was that the ship must complete her voyage without electric lights and—far more important—without the use of the wireless. Sam Hall started to blurt a comment on this, but a glance from Hovey silenced him. It was plain that the bos’n would risk no conversation from his blunt sailors while Harrigan was in earshot. The Irishman hurried through his breakfast and took his bucket and scrubbing brush toward the bridge, for he had many questions to ask McTee. He had scarcely left the forecastle when Hovey said to Garry Cochrane: “Watch the door. I’ve got something important to say.”

      Cochrane took up the designated position, and Hovey went on: “Lads, I’ve bad news, bad and good news together. The boats are gone—though who the devil destroyed them we don’t know—and now the wireless is destroyed. The boats are a big loss, for now we’ll have to rig up some sort of a raft to make shore when we beach the Heron. The busting of the wireless almost balances that loss. Now we’re sure they can’t slip out any quick wireless call that would bring a dozen ships after us. Bad news and good news together; and here’s some more of the same kind.

      “Henshaw has made up his mind to give Kamasura the whip. You know what that means? Well, I’ll tell you. It means that after the first dozen strokes—as Borgson will lay them on—Kamasura will break down and tell everything we don’t want him to say. Understand? With the cabin warned of what we’re going to do, what chance would we have to take them? So we’ll hang around close, lads, and the minute Kamasura opens his face to say the wrong thing, we’ll rush ’em—are you with me? And go for two men first—Black McTee and Harrigan. With them out of the way we’ll simply chew up the rest. Try to take the others alive, but don’t waste any time with McTee and the Irishman. You can lay to it before you start that they’ll never be taken till they’re dead.”

      For some minutes he talked on, appointing to each man or group of men the work he would be expected to perform when Hovey gave the signal to attack, which would be one long blast on his whistle.

      While they planned, Harrigan had reached the bridge and found McTee impatiently awaiting him.

      “You’re late,” frowned the Scotchman. “What’s happened in the forecastle?”

      “Black looks on all sides, and no talk,” said Harrigan.

      “A falling barometer,” nodded McTee, “and things are just as bad in the cabin. You’ve heard about the wireless breaking?”

      “I have. What does it mean?”

      “It may have been done by the mutineers. I doubt it. But that isn’t all that’s happened. This is a pretty cool day for the tropics.”

      Harrigan stared at him, baffled by the sudden change of the conversation.

      “It is cool,” he assented.

      “But in the fireroom it’s hotter than it’s been at any time since the Heron started on this trip. The second assistant came up to complain to Henshaw, and I heard them.

      “‘There’s something wrong with the air shafts,’ he said to White Henshaw.

      “‘Look here,’ said Henshaw, “I’ve had enough grumbling from the fireroom. Put a fan in the air shaft, and don’t come up here again with

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