Isle o' Dreams Part 16

"Jarrow and Peth want to steal my island and have all the gold,"

insisted Dinshaw, his face tragic.

"Steward, give my compliments to Captain Jarrow and tell him I'd speak to him," said Locke.

"I wouldn't do that," cautioned Trask. "Let's see what this is about. I don't think it's wise to jump at conclusions. What makes you think they're going to steal your island?"

"Call the cap'n, sir?" asked Doc, on his way to the companion.

"Never mind," said Locke.

"What reason have you for believing that Jarrow and Peth want to steal your gold, captain?" asked Trask, gently.

"I know," said Dinshaw, wagging his head.

"How do you know?"

"I--I dreamed it. I was asleep out there in the long boat and heard 'em talking."

"We can't very well blame Jarrow for what you dream," said Locke, relieved that there was nothing more substantial to Dinshaw's charges than a dream.

"I didn't dream it," said Dinshaw, with sudden conviction. "I heard 'em talk. Jarrow said if there was gold on the island, he and Peth was to have it for themselves."

Doc chuckled, and showed his teeth in a broad smile, with a sly wink at Trask.

"He talks in his sleep," whispered Doc into Trask's ear, as he bent over to remove a plate.

"Don't you worry," said Locke. "n.o.body's going to cheat you, and I'm here to see that they don't. But I'd keep quiet about my dreams, if I wanted to go on to the island, or we'll be back in Manila in three shakes of a lamb's tail."

"Very good, sir," said Dinshaw.

Trask was between two minds to tell Locke that his pistol had been stolen, for while he placed little credence in what Dinshaw had said, he began to wonder if there wasn't something going on aboard the schooner that promised trouble. What if Dinshaw had not been dreaming after all? Suppose Peth and Jarrow were plotting to play all hands double?

But it would be silly to abandon the voyage just as they were about to arrive at the island, and while undoubtedly there had been gossip and conjecture about the island, it was quite possible that if Dinshaw had overheard some light talk, he had misinterpreted its import.

Trask knew that Locke's att.i.tude was now such that if he reported the theft of the pistol, Locke would decline to go forward another mile, an idea which Trask could not bring himself to consider for various reasons, the most important being that he did not want to say farewell to Marjorie Locke and see her sail away to the United States.

And as there being any actual danger from Jarrow and Peth, other than such as might result from a serious quarrel between the two, he considered a piece of absurdity.

As Trask thought the thing over later in the evening, however, he realized that his own deductions and desires were selfish, and that after all he could not a.s.sume the entire responsibility for Marjorie's safety. He knew it was only fair to take Locke into his confidence regarding what had happened.

So, getting Locke below in the cabin while the others were on deck, Trask told Locke that his pistol was missing. But Locke treated the matter lightly, and said he did not believe it could have any significance. It was his opinion that the weapon had been stolen by some of the crew, and he rather suspected Doc Bird. He said he would speak to the captain about it after they arrived at the island, and that the steward's quarters should be searched and Doc questioned, but he doubted the advisability of making what he called a rumpus about it now, especially as Marjorie might be worried and he wanted her to get a good night's sleep.

Trask let the business rest there and went up with Locke again to enjoy the brilliant moonlight and listen to the impromptu concert which the crew had begun with a mouth organ and a flute.

Even Peth joined in the fun, and unbent to the extent of whistling some popular airs of the sad and sentimental variety with many trills and flourishes.

Doc's part in the evening's entertainment was a buck-and-wing dance of a most violent sort, and when he had finished, Jarrow told him to serve all hands with a tot of rum.

Everybody went to bed in the best of spirits, and for the first time since leaving Manila it appeared that the whole ship's company was contented.

Trask left his room door open, and was awakened several times during the night. It seemed to him that the wind had shifted, and that there was much tacking, for all night there was running about on deck, and thumping of blocks. At least a dozen times he heard Jarrow bawling to "Go about," and Peth's voice from the bows yelling "Hard alee," and the jibs being handled to the accompaniment of shivering sails and the lurch of the schooner as she stood on a new board.

All aft slept late, and were not about for breakfast until well past eight o'clock, when they found Doc Bird grinning like an ebony monkey.

"What the devil was all the stock-yards noise about last night?"

demanded Locke, as he came out of his room and went to the door to look forward, searching the horizon ahead.

"Sh.o.r.ely broke my bones, sir," said Doc. "We been a sawin' up an'

down all night, but the old man he kep' on his close spite o' wind an' high water."

"I thought we were turning over several times," said Marjorie, as she took her place at table.

"Blowed lak' she never blowed befo'," opined Doc. "But we done come home."

"What do you mean?" asked Locke.

"Didn' yo' see the islan'?"

There was an exodus to the deck at this, but although the trio searched the rim of the sky they could not make out a sign of land.

The schooner was sailing close into the wind, which had abated into a steady though stiff breeze, and she was pitching over the swells with an even, rocking movement.

Doc grinned and pointed over the port bow, and Jarrow came down from the p.o.o.p, smiling proudly.

"There's our island," he said.

Trask managed to pick it up, but the others could not see it, and went back to breakfast. Trask soon followed, observing that Shope was in the fore crosstrees studying the distant speck with a gla.s.s.

"We ought to be up to it by night," said Jarrow.

"Night!" said Trask, surprised.

"Perhaps before dark," said Jarrow, a trifle disconcerted at Trask's manner. "I don't look to hold this wind all day."

"But we seem to be making good time," said Trask.

"Not so good as ye'd think," replied Jarrow. "She's kickin' up her heels and makin' a great fuss about it, maybe six knots now, and enough leeway to choke an ox."

With that he went up and in a few minutes put the schooner on the other tack, but this time she was not sailing into the wind nearly so closely as she had been, and was now headed so that if she held her course, she would clear the island by several miles and leave it to starboard.

Trask said nothing, but suspected that Jarrow was killing time, especially as the schooner did not go about for a couple of hours, and then on such a sharp angle with her former course that but few miles were gained in approaching the island.

Dinshaw spent the morning pottering over a chart in great excitement, and his manner indicated that he wanted to be left to himself.

All day they tacked up and down, Jarrow explaining that there might be reefs about, although there wasn't a spot of broken water in sight even with the heavy sea that was running after the night's blow.

At one time Trask thought the delay in getting on was due to Peth, for the mate was most deliberate in going about, and it was half an hour after the order had been given to put the schooner on a new tack before Peth got down his jib and shouted for a lee helm.

It was near sundown before they had the island within three miles, whereupon Jarrow so manoeuvred that they ran straight in for it, and came to anchor in its lee, behind a reef which ran to the south of and almost parallel with it.