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“ Contraband”
By Randall Pamsh
Copyright A. C. McClurg & Co.
CHAPTER XXVll—Continued.
—lß—
— the meal I yielded to my own
need of rest, certain I should be on
■deck all night, and returned to the
■cabin. I left my stateroom door open,
but in ten ailnutes I was sound asleep.
What awakened me I do not know. I
had a confused sense of some heavy
body falling, but no other sound. Yet
this Impression was so strong, so In
sistent, that I sat up In the berth, and
stared out through the open door Into
the cabin beyond. I neither saw, nor
heard anything, yet did not withdraw
\my eyes when I got to my feet; then I
knew that the dark shapeless object,
half under the table, was the motion
less body of a man. My throat seemed
to contract, and choke me, but I forced
a quick breath and stepped forward
through the door. The dingy cabin
was deserted, not another stateroom
door open. The table had been cleared
■of dishes, a decanter of brandy stand
ing alone on the swinging shelf. Un
derneath, with face concealed in the
crook of one arm, lay a man, an ugly
gash in the back of his colored shirt,
through which fresh blood was oozing,
. and dripping to the deck. I sprang for-I
'ward, and turned him over—Dubois.
I could hardly accept the evidence of
my own eyes. How had this thing hap
pened? How did the crippled sailor
ever get into the cabin? Whose hand
could have struck the blow? and for
•what purpose was it struck? It was
murder, a cowardly slash from behind;
no wound which could be self-inflicted,
but a blow of deliberate purpose. Who
aboard would have reason to seek the
life of Dubois? I could think of no
one; no cause for such a crime. An
Instant I stared, dazed, into the dead,
upturned face, not even knowing where
to turn, in which direction to seek the
murderer. I felt as though every fac
ulty of both brain and body was
paralyzed by the shock. Yet this was
but for an instant. I tried the doors of
the various staterooms; all opened at
my touch, excepting Bascom’s, and
proved unoccupied. His was locked as
usual, and I felt it useless to disturb
the man. Leayord was no longer be
low; he had doubtless awakened and
gone on deck, but I discovered Dade
asleep in his old berth down the pas
sage, shook him awake, and compelled
him to come back with me. The horror
of his face at sight of the dead body,
only intensified my own, but I had grip
on my nerves by now, and was deter
mined to learn the truth.
“Stay here until I find out what is
happening on deck. There is nothing
to be afraid of, you fool; the man is
dead. Yes, you can stand over there,
but don’t leave until I come back, and
keep your eyes open.”
As I emerged from the companion,
leaving the dingy, death-shadowed
cabin behind, the open deck was such
a scepe of quiet as to appear like an
other world. Vera was still resting in
her chair not twenty feet away. She
glanced up, smiling a welcome, as I
crossed the deck, but the expression
of her face instantly changed as our
eyes met.
“What is it, Mr. Hollis? Are we
again in danger?"
"There has been trouble below. Let
me question you before I explain. You
have been here for the last hour?”
“Yes; longer even than that.”
“Who have you seen enter the com
panion?”
“I slept at first, but have been awake
for some time. Dade came out on deck
a few moments, and then went back
again; that must have been an hour
ago. There was no one else until Mr.
Leayord was called to take his watch."
“Who called him?”
“Olson; he was not below more than
a minute."
“And Leayord responded immedi
ately?"
“Yes, so quickly I remember think
ing he could not have removed his
clothes to lie down.”
“And when was this?”
“A half hour ago; he "stopped and
spoke with me before taking charge of
the deck.”
“No one has entered the cabin
since?”
She shook her head.
“No one, I am sure; Mr. Olson did
not go below; he is forward there now.
Please tell me what has happened?”
“Dubois has been killed,” I explained
briefly. “I found his body on the
cabin deck. The deed was just done;
his fall awoke me from sleep, but be
fore I could leave the stateroom the
murderer had disappeared.”
"He—he was murdered I You are
sure?”
“There was a knife wound in the
back piercing the heart. The man died
without a sound.”
She rose to her feet, her face white,
her body trembling so that I put out
my hands to her support, and instantly
her fingers clasped mine.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
,A Maniac on Board.
The horror with which she looked
into my face held me speechless. Could
it be possible that she suspected, knew,
the perpetrator of this crime—that she
sought to shield him?
"You searched the cabin? You found
no one?”
“Only Dade sound asleep in the
steward’s stateroom. I awoke him,
and left him on watch below.”
“There was no one hiding in any of
the staterooms? You tried the doors?”
“They were all empty. Mr. Bas
com’s door was the only one locked."
“You—you made him open?”
“No; why disturb him?"
She drew a quick breath, her eyes
on my face.
“You—you have not seen Philip Bas
com lately?”
“No, not since we had supper to
gether.”
“You saw nothing strange then in his
actions, or words?”
“Why nothing that I remarked. He
seemed about as usual; more haggard,
and nervous possibly, but he spoke
cheerfully enough. What can you
mean?"
“Oh, Ido not really know; perhaps I
ought not to say such a thing. I meant
to have spoken to you about it before,
but so much happened, I forgot. I—l
suspect Philip Bascom is insane."
“Insane 1 Good heavens! why do you
say that?”
“He has talked to me so strangely.
He—he frightened me, and I was hard
ly able to quiet him.”
“And you suspect he killed Dubois?”
“Who else could it have been?"
There was no answer possible. Every
other man on board was already ac
cdunted for. The truth was borne in
upon me irresistibly. I called Leayord.
The mate thrust his head over the
forward rail.
“Do you know if Masters is in the
engineroom?”
“I think he is, sir.”
“Then call down, and have him
Send White on deck Immediately; and
pass the word forward to have Mr. Ol
son come here.”
“Aye, aye, sir; is there anything
wrong?”
“I will explain presently; just now I
want you to remain in charge of the
deck.”
Olson arrived first, and I barely had
time to tell him briefly what had oc
curred, when White emerged through
the deck opening and reported, his
eyes blinking in the bright light, and
his face grimy with coal.
“You wanted me, sir?” he asked,
with no bluster in the gruff voice.
“Aye, White; you possess the
strength and nerve for this sort of job.
Miss Carrington here suspects that
the owner of this ship has lost his
mind. I just found Dubois lying on
the cabin deck murdered —”
“Dubois, sir?”
“Yes; he had been stabbed in the
back.”
“And you believe the owner did it?”
“There is no one else on board who
could. He is locked in his stateroom,
and we’ve got to get him out. Come
on now, both of you.”
I led the way down the stairs in no
pleasant frame of mind. An insane
man running free aboard, animated by
a desire to kill, added to my other re
sponsibilities, increased -our dangers
manifold. The cabin seemed so dark
I Almost Fell Forward Into the-Room,
after the brightness of the deck above,
that I grasped the stair rail and ad
vanced almost blindly. I had reached
the center of the cabin before my eyes
discerned that there were two bodies
outstretched on the deck Instead of
one. I involuntarily shrank back, grip
ping the sleeve of White’s shirt, and
pointing.
“Look here! thye are two bodies;
he—be has gotten Dade also.”
The sailor sprang past me, and
dropped to his knees.
“Aye, it’s Dade, and the poor cuss
is done for, sir—it’s another knife
thrust in the back.”
“And no longer any doubt who did
it,” echoed Olson, “for there’s not an
other man aboard been aft.”
“Right you are,” I said, gripping my
self ready to act. “And we must get
him at once. Come on, both of you;
if there’s a fight it may take the three
of us. He has a knife, and there was
a gun in his draper.”
The door of Bascom’s stateroom was
IRWINTON BULLETIN, IRWINTON, GEORGIA.
closed, and I grasped the knob with no
thought it would yield to my fingers.
But it did, and I almost fell forward
Into the room, catching myself, and
staring about. The last gleam of the
sun streamed in through the stern
ports, and every object within was
clearly revealed at a glance. The man
was not there. I drew back the cur
tains concealing the bath, but the space
was empty; only one of the round
ports was partially open, the aperture
far too small to admit the passage of a
body. The bed had not been slept in,
and was neatly made; one drawer of
the desk stood open, and papers were
scattered on the rug beneath; a chair
was overturned on the deck; a chest in
one corner had been rummaged, its
contents flung aside. My eyes fell on
White, his mouth open, his face gro
tesque in its coating of coal dust.
“Hanged if he ain’t got away, sir,”
he blurted out, “but he never went
overboard through that port—a cat
couldn’t ha’ done it.”
“No, he's aboard all right,” I coin
cided. “But where? and for what pur
pose? There is no knowing what a
man in his state of mind may do. Good
heavens Ihe could wreck the ship. Get
a light, White —take the cabin lantern.
Olson and I will have to look behind
these doors first, and then we’ll ex
plore between decks.”
We found nothing, not the slightest
trace of the fugitive. Beyond doubt he
had gone forward, either seeking to
escape, or with the thought that he
could attain the deck through some
opening amidships. I was cool enough
by now to realize the peril we faced
between decks, searching for the mad
man, whom we might encounter at any
moment.
“Run on deck, White,” I ordered,
“and pick up a couple of marling
spikes. I have a revolver. Tell Mr.
Leayord the situation, and have him
keep his eyes open. Better have him
warn McCann, and Miss Carrington
had best remain near the wheel until
we get our hands on this fellow. Hurry
back now.”
Olson and I remained motionless,
our eyes on the black opening leading
forward, the dim rays of the lantern
falling on the ghastly faces of the two
dead men outstretched on the deck. It
was a grewsome spot, and my heart
was beating like a triphammer. I made
sure my revolver Was loaded, dropping
the weapon into a jacket pocket. White
rejoined us, grasping the spikes, one
of which he passed over to Olson, who
tested the weight in his hand.
“Quiet as a June mornin’ up there,
sir,” he announced, squinting about.
“There ain’t nobody seen nuthin’ of no
maniac. I reckon yer better let Olson
carry the lantern, so you and I can be
sorter free to grip the chap; we’re big
ger than the mate.”
“From what I’ve seen of Olson he’ll
do his share of the fighting,” I an
swered, knowing the Swede to be hot
tempered, and touchy about his size.
“However, one will have to carry it.”
“It’s all right, sir,” said Olson quiet
ly, “I’ll hold the glim, but if that big
duffer doesn’t stand up to the job, I’ll
bust glass an’ all over his head.”
We certainly made a thorough search
of it. I doubt if a stray rat got by us
without being seen, but from the after
cabin to the engineroom ladder we
found no trace of Bascom; no indica
tion even that he had ever passed that
way. The effort to locate Bascom’s
hiding place was absolutely vain—the
cunning of the madman overcame our
diligence and wit; he had disappeared
as though swallowed by the sea, leav
ing not so much as a clue behind.
Beyond the hole leading to the en
gineroom below, our advances were
blocked by a steel bulkhead, water
tight, pierced by a single door, to be
sure, but this was closed and locked
securely. “Is there any communica
tion between the forecastle and the
hold, White?” I asked, staring helpless
ly at the steel barrier.
“No, sir; the fo’castle is all above
deck.”
“How was this door manipulated? Do
either of you know?”
“Well, I had charge o’ loadin’ the
after-hold, sir,” and Olson scratched
his head trying to remember. “That
door never was opened but once, when
Captain Hadley tested it before we left
Baltimore, or maybe after we got out
in the Chesapeake. I think it wus
opened an’ shut frum the bridge, Mr.
Hollis."
“That is the usual arrangement, but
there is a slot here for a key; still the
door is steel, and It looks too heavy for
any one man to operate.”
I leaned over, and looked down Into
the lighted engineroom at the bottom
of the shaft. All I could see was a
great wheel steadily turning.
“Masters.”
The engineer stepped into view, and
peered up into the darkness; he ap
peared burly and shapeless.
“That you, captain?”
“Yes. Bascom, the owner, has gone
crazy, and has hidden himself some
where on board.”
“Well, I’ll be swamped! Can’t you
find him?”
"Not yet; we’ve searched every place
aft He hasn’t visited you?”
“Not to my knowledge. Tony is back
in the fireroom; I’ll ask him.”
.The Best Sea
Story of the
War That Has
Been Written
The three of us clung to the ladder
gazing down, the light from the lantern
revealing our faces. Masters was not
gone a moment, but his voice had
changed.
“Tony’s killed, sir,” he called up ex
citedly. “He’s lying on the coal In
number one bunker, cut in the back
with a knife.”
The words were not out of his
mouth before _we were scrambling
down. But our haste gained us noth
ing. The only trail Bascom had left
was the dead Italian, stretched out in
the half emptied coal bunker, his lips
closed forever. It was a knife thrust
which had killed him—just such a
thrust as had done for his two mates
in the cabin above; but the madman
had disappeared; However, here was
proof positive that the fellow was still
on board; still hiding between decks.
He had not reached the open, or flung
himself into the sea. Masters could
tell ns nothing; he had heard no
sound, seen no shadow. He had been
oiling the machinery, and a man could
have slipped down the ladder unob
served, and escaped again in the same
way. There was no other entrance to
the engineroom; the forward bulkhead
was solid; there were two ventilator
shafts, but neither was large enough
for the passage of a man’s body, and
the coal chute was kept closed and
locked at sea. Nevertheless I had these
examined, determined to take no
chances, and our lantern penetrated
every inch of the engineroom and coal
bunkers. At the end, utterly baffled.
White gave vent to an oath.
“It beats me, sir,” he confessed
hoarsely, “unless it’s a spook we’re
a-huntin’ for."
“I wish it was; the trouble is it is
a man, and a mighty dangerous one.
Well, he’s not down here, and he must
have gone back byway of the ladder.
The fellow has either found some
means of getting into the hold, or else
he’s managed to slip on deck and per
haps is hidden tn the forecastle—no
one messes there now?”
“No, sir.”
"Then let’s have a look up above;
come on, men.”
“Yer ain’t goin’ ter leave me down
here all alone, are yer, captain?” ques
tioned Masters anxiously, “with Tony
lying’ dead In there, an’ a murderer
prowlin’ about?”
“He’ll not be down here again, but I
suppose you must have a fireman —
White, you better stay.”
“’Tain’t no job I like, sir; I shov
eled coal here already for eight hours.”
“I’ll tackle it, sir,” interrupted Ol
son quietly. “That big boob would
throw a fit down here every time he
saw a shadow. After you get those
hatches off send him in on top o’ the
cargo. There’d be no danger o’ his
gettin’ hurt if Bascom was a hidin’
there.”
“Yer a dirty liar! I ain’t no more
afraid than you are!”
“Then why don’t you stay here?”
“I’m plumb tired out shovelin’.”
“That will do, men,” I broke in
sternly. “There will be work enough,
and maybe fighting enough for both of
you. As long as you have volunteered,
Olson, you may take a turn down here,
and White will go with me. Keep a
sharp eye out, you men below.”
The two of us clambered up the iron
ladder, the sailor with the lantern in
his hand, the marling spike thrust into
his belt. I tested the bulkhead door
again as we came to it, but it seemed
as solid as the steel wall itself, and
thoroughly satisfied that it had not
been opened since the ship sailed, we
mounted to the open deck.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Work of a Fiend.
In spite of what I knew; of the hor
ror and tragedy I had just left behind;
the unspeakable terror of feeling that
somewhere aboard, hidden in some
black corner, lurked an irresponsible
being, with murder in his crazed brain;
a being devoid of all impulse, save the
frenzy of hate, the desire for destruc
tion, yet the sight of that cool, silent
deck, already darkened by the gath
ering shadows of night, instantly
calmed me, and brought back my pow
ers of reasoning. The man was not
aft; then he must be forward. It was
impossible to hide long on shipboard in
the face of an Intelligent search. Os
one thing I was decided —if the fellow
had, indeed, succeeded In slipping for
ward unobserved, he was never to be
permitted to return aft again unseen.
I would, first of all, see to it that the
decks were guarded, and then the rest
of us would hunt him in his hole.
“White, you remain here in front of
the cabin, and keep your eyes open.
Don’t let a shadow get past you aft;
you understand?’
“Aye, sir.”
“Give me the lantern. There is no
knowing what that fellow may do; he
might fire the ship, or wreck the en
gines, unless we get him in time.”
"You think he’s forward, sir?”
“Where else can he be? I’ll put an
other man at the mainmast, and then
run him down.”
Leayord. attracted by the gleam of
the lantern, leaned out over the poop
rail.
"That you, captain? Bare you got
Bascom yet?"
"No; he has managed to escape, and
get forward, but not without leaving
another victim behind. Tony Rapello
is dead in the stokehole.”
“The bloody villain! How did he
ever get out of there?”
“Which is more than I can figure
out; stole on deck, probably, and then
slipped along in the rail shadow.
Where is McCann?”
“Just gone forward to fix the tidin’
lamps.”
“All right; sing out to him to keep
his eyes on the deck. There doesn’t
seem to be a great deal of wind, or
sea. Mr. Leayord; do you imagine Miss ■
Carrington could hold the wheel for
half an hour?”
“I don’t see no reason why she
shouldn’t, sir; I’ve seen her do it in
worse weather."
“Then ask her, please; I’m likely to
need both of you if we round up that
fellow. He’s crazy and armed, and sure
to fight hard. Pick up any weapon you
can find, and come down here.”
They were beside me almost Instant
ly, eagerly questioning as to what had
occurred below, their faces expressive
of the deep horror both felt at the situ
ation in which we found ourselves. Un
der other conditions I know I should
have felt sincere sympathy for the sud
denly stricken Bascom. His former
friendship with Vera, what I knew of
his misfortunes, the very conception
of the man’s character which I had
formed mysqjf during our brief ac
quaintance on board, all tended to
make the man an object of pity. The
murders he had committed were but
I Stopped at the Foot of the Steps,
the result of a diseased brain, the sud
den snapping of responsibility. I
could not hate the man, or seek him
evil—but I could dread him. That was
the whole of it—dread! Here was a
man crazed, murderously insane, who
had safely tasted blood, whose insan
ity had been caused by fear, and brood
ing over a great wrong. In his disor
dered brain a mad, desperate desire for
revenge had overshadowed all else. To
obtain this no deed was impossible, no
crime too hideous. Aud this creature
was hidden somewhere between decks,
and, unless discovered and made cap
tive. held in his hands the fate of every
soul on board. The thought of what he
might do during the black darkness of
the night terrorized me. At any cost
we must have him within our control;
we dare not even wait to hope that the
man might reveal himself—we must
go after him, crawling in the dark,
feeling within crevice and cavity, until
we uncovered his hiding place.
I explained this quickly to the two
men, hiding none of my own fear, but
making them comprehend the des
perate need of thorough and ceaseless
search. The look on their faces evi
denced that my words had gone home.
"He's forward, sir; that’s clear
enough,” insisted Leayord. “We’ll nab
the fellow in the fo’castle yonder ac
cordin’ to my notion. What do yer say,
Red?”
“That’s how- I lay it out," coincided
the big sailor, clinching and unclinch
ing his hands. “He sure ain’t aft; that
ain't no way I know how he could git
into the hold with the hatches down;
so that ain’t nothin’ left except the
fo’castle, an' the forepeak. We’ll find
the cuss thar all right, sir.”
Their confidence had its effect on
me.
“Good; White and McCann will
guard every inch of the deck, while we
take the forecastle first. Bring the lan
tern, Leayord.”
The door was two-thirds shut, and
we slid it wide open to gain entrance,
feeling our way cautiously down the
steps. The place had never been a
sea-parlor, but now, deserted by the
crew, it presented as dismal a scene, in
the dim light of the lantern, as ever I
put my foot into. The air was foul
with bilge-water, while rotting gar
ments hung to the beams above, or
were strewn along the deck. The shad
ows were grotesque and hideous, and
much of the space was cluttered up by
discarded sea boots, battered chests
and miscellaneous riffraff which the
men had left behind in their flight. I
stopped nt the foot of the steps, but
Leayord and Red advanced to the tier
of bunks, the former lifting the lan
tern, while the latter took survey with
in each. We found no trace of Bas
com, but at that I was glad enough to
be back again on the open deck, breath
ing in the fresh night air. It was like
a tonic.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
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