The Max Brand Megapack. Max Brand
by the iron hands of McTee and held back.
“For the love of Mike,” moaned the Irishman softly, “let me at that swine of a mate!”
“Shut up!” cautioned McTee savagely, but in a whisper. “That’s the Jap who tried to knife you!”
“I will—I’ll shut up,” sighed Harrigan, panting, “but ah-h, to get in punchin’ distance of Borgson for one second!”
“What shall we do with him?” Borgson was asking.
“Captain!” begged the husky voice of Kamasura, fighting his way back to semi-consciousness.
“If he tries to speak again, smash his mouth in,” said Henshaw without raising his voice. “Tonight put him in irons. I’ll tend to him tomorrow. Go get the irons. Hovey, take Kamasura below.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Hovey, and caught the Jap by the arms behind.
That touch quieted Kamasura, and as he was led off, he began to whisper quickly.
The moment they were away from the crowd, Hovey said: “Say it slow—no, you don’t have to beg me to help you. I’ll do what I can. You know that. Now tell me what you saw.”
“Cap’n McTee—behind the wireless house—holding the hand of Harrigan. They were talkin’ soft—like friends!”
“By God,” muttered Hovey fiercely, “an’ yet McTee told me he wanted Harrigan put out of the way. He’s double-crossin’ us. They’re teamin’ it together. What did they say?”
The Jap spat blood copiously before he could answer: “I could not hear.”
“You ain’t worth your salt,” responded Hovey.
“I cannot help—I am crush—I am defeat. Do not let them bring me before Henshaw. To look at him—it puts the cold in my heart. I cannot speak. I shall die—I—”
“Keep your head up,” said Hovey. “There’s nothing I can say that’ll help you—just now. Later on you’ll be able to deal with Henshaw and Borgson just the way they dealt with you. Does that help any?”
“Ah-h,” whispered the Jap and drew in his breath sharply with delight.
“I might start the boys—I might turn them loose on the ship,” went on Hovey, “but the time ain’t come yet for that. We’re too far from the coast. Whatever happens, Kamasura, can you promise me to keep your face shut about the mutiny?”
“Yes-s.”
“Even if they was to tie you up an’ feed you the lash? Henshaw’s equal to that.”
Kamasura stammered, hesitated.
“Don’t make no mistake,” said Hovey fiercely, “because we’ll be standin’ close, some of us, an’ the first tune you open your damned mouth, we’ll bash your head in. Get me?”
The entrance of Eric Borgson made it impossible for the Jap to answer with words, but his eyes were eloquent with promise. Hovey started back for the forecastle; he had much to say to the sailors, and thereafter life on the Heron would be equally dangerous for both Harrigan and McTee.
The two, in the meantime, were making their way aft shoulder to shoulder. When they reached the stretch of deck behind the wireless house, McTee said: “Harrigan, what’s it to be? Are you for fighting it out?”
“I’m with you in anything you say,” retorted the dauntless Irishman, and then with a changed voice, “but I’m feelin’ sort of sick inside, Angus. Did ye see that murtherin’ dog smash the mouth of that Jap when he hadn’t the strength to lift his head? Ah-h!”
“I’m sick, too,” said McTee, “but not because of the Jap. It’s something worse that bothers me.”
“What?”
“It’s the thought of White Henshaw, Dan. The brain of that old devil is going back on him. I think he loves death more than life. His memories of what he’s done put him in hell every minute he lives.”
“Go easy, McTee,” said Harrigan. “D’you mean to say that Henshaw blew up those boats—an’ his ship still in the middle of the Pacific?”
“I say nothing. All I know is that he talked damned queerly of how wonderful it would be if a ship in the middle of the sea put her nose under the waves and started for Davy Jones’s locker. Yes, if she went down with all hands—dived for the bottom, in fact.”
“What can we do?”
“I don’t know, but I’m beginning to think that this ship—and our lives—would be safer in the hands of Hovey and his gang of cutthroats than they will be under White Henshaw. Queer things are going to happen on the Heron, Harrigan, mark my word.”
“You think Henshaw blew up the boats so not one of the crew could escape?”
“It sounds too crazy to repeat.”
“McTee!”
“Yes, I’m thinking of her, too.”
“Between the mutiny and the crazy captain, Angus, it’ll take both of us to pull her through.”
“It will.”
“Then gimme your hand once more, cap’n. We’re in the trough of the sea once more, an’ God knows when we’ll reach dry land, but while we’re on the Heron, we’re brothers once more. For her sake I’ll forget I hate you till we’ve got the honest ground under our feet once more.”
“When the time comes,” said McTee, “it’ll be a wonderful fight.”
“It will,” agreed Harrigan fervently. “But first, McTee, we must let her know that we’re standin’ shoulder to shoulder to fight for her. Otherwise she won’t give us her trust.”
“You’re right again. We’ll go to her cabin now and tell her. But don’t give her a hint of all that we fear. She already knows about the mutiny—and she knows about your part in it.”
“You saw to that, McTee?” said Harrigan softly, as he pulled on his shirt.
“I did.”
“Ah-h, Angus, that fight’ll be even better than I was afther thinkin’.”
And they went forward, walking again shoulder to shoulder. It was Harrigan who stood in front at her door and knocked. She opened it wide, but at sight of him started to slam it again. He blocked it with his foot.
“I’ve not come for my own sake,” he said in a hard voice, “but the two of us have come together.”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and she made out the towering form of McTee. At that she opened the door, glancing curiously from one to the other. The eyes of Harrigan went from her face to McTee, and his eyes flamed.
“Speak up, McTee,” he said savagely. “Tell her you lied about me.”
The Scotchman glowered upon him.
“I’ll tell her what I’ve just found out,” he answered coldly, and turned to Kate. “We were mistaken in what we thought when we overheard Hovey talking with Harrigan. Dan was simply playing a part with them— he was trying to learn their plans so as to use them against the mutineers when the time came.”
There was a joyousness in her voice that cut McTee like a knife as she cried: “I knew! I knew! My instinct fought for you, Dan. I couldn’t believe what I heard!”
“What you both heard?” he said bitterly. “I remember now. It was when I talked with Hovey in front of this cabin?”
“Ask no more questions,” said McTee. “I’m seeing red now.”
“Black! You see nothin’ but black, ye swine! The soot in your soul is a stain in your eyes, McTee.”
They