The Pirate of Panama Part 34

The Slav in Bothwell had failed to understand the Anglo-Saxon blood with which he was dealing.

I faced the man with a dry laugh.

"We'll see. Begin, you coward!"

Pinned down to the table as I was, he struck me in the face for that.

"You lose no time in proving my words true," I jeered.

An odd mixture is man. Faith, one might have thought Bothwell impervious to shame, but at my words the fellow flushed. He could not quite forget that he had once been a gentleman.

In the way of business he could torture me, wipe me from his path without a second thought, but on the surface he must live up to the artificial code his training had imposed upon him.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Sedgwick. Were there time I would give you satisfaction for that blow in the customary manner. But time presses. I shall have to ask you instead to accept my apologies. I have the devil of a temper."

"So I judge."

"It flares like powder. But I must not waste your time in explanations."

From his vest pocket he drew three little cubes of iron. "You still have time, Mr. Sedgwick. The map!"

I flushed to the roots of my hair.

"Never, you Russian devil!"

He selected the hand pinned down by Fleming, perhaps because he was not sure that he could trust Gallagher. Between my fingers close to the roots he slipped the cubes. His fingers fastened over mine and drew the ends of them together slowly, steadily.

An excruciating pain shot through me. I set my teeth to keep from screaming and closed my eyes to hide the anguish in them.

"You are at liberty to change your mind--and your answer, Mr. Sedgwick,"

he announced suavely.

"You devil from h.e.l.l!"

Again I suffered that jagged bolt of pain. It seemed as if my fingers were being rent asunder at the roots. I could not concentrate my attention on anything but the physical agony, yet it seems to me now that Gallagher was muttering a protest across the table.

Bothwell released my hand. I saw a flash of subtle triumph light his eyes.

"A wilful man must have his way, Mr. Sedgwick," he nodded to me, then whispered in the ear of George Fleming, who at once left the room.

They pulled me up from the table and seated me in a chair. Bothwell whistled a bar or two of the s.e.xtet from Lucia until he was interrupted by the entrance of the engineer with Jimmie Welch.

In a flash I knew what the man meant to do, and the devilish ingenuity of it appalled me. He had concluded that I was strung up to endure anything he might inflict.

Now he was going to force me to tell what I knew in order to save the boy from the pain I had myself found almost unendurable.

What must I do? I beat my wits for a way out. One glance around the room showed me that the scoundrel's accomplices would not let him go much further.

The weak spot in his leadership was that he did not realize the humanity which still burned in their lost souls. But at what point would they revolt? I could not let little Jimmie go through the pain I had undergone.

The boy gave a sobbing cry of relief when he saw me and tried to break away to my side. He was flung on the table just as I had been. Gallagher looked at me imploringly while Bothwell fitted the cubes.

Neidlinger stole a step nearer. His fingers were working nervously.

Harry Fleming had turned away so as not to see what would follow.

"Mr. Sedgwick, what are they going to do with me?" the frightened little fellow called in terror.

Bothwell took the lad's fingers in his. I opened my lips to surrender--and closed them again. Neidlinger had drawn still another step nearer. The big blond Scandinavian had reached his limit.

The Slav gave a slight pressure and Jimmie howled. Crouched like a panther, Neidlinger flung himself upon his chief and bore him back to the wall. Bothwell, past his first surprise, lashed out with a straight left and dropped the man.

Simultaneously Gallagher closed with him, tripping Bothwell so that the two went down hard together. Neidlinger crawled forward on hands and knees to help his partner.

Shaking off the grip of the irresolute men holding me, I was in time to seize George Fleming, who had run forward to aid the captain.

From the hatchway a crisp order rang out.

"Back there, Fleming!"

I turned. Blythe and Yeager were standing near the foot of the ladder; behind them Alderson, Smith, Morgan, and Philips. All six were armed.

Their weapons covered the mutineers.

"Gallagher--Neidlinger, don't release that man. You are prisoners--all of you," Sam announced curtly.

Taken by surprise, the two sailors had ceased to struggle with Bothwell.

I could see the master villain's hand slip to the b.u.t.t of his revolver.

My foot came down heavily on his wrist and the fingers fell limp. A moment, and the revolver was in my hand.

Bothwell was handcuffed and disarmed before the eyes of his followers, who in turn had to endure the same ignominy.

The mutiny on the _Argos_ was quelled at last.

CHAPTER XVIII

ANCh.o.r.eD HEARTS

Our rescue had been due to the vigilance of Tom Yeager. He had seen Bothwell slip down from the bridge and follow me to the forecastle.

The first impulse of the Arizonian had been to step out and end the campaign by a fighting finish with the Slav. But second thoughts brought wiser counsels. Blythe, called hurriedly upstairs, had agreed to his proposal to try and determine the mutiny at a stroke.

To both of them it had been clear that Bothwell surrendered the bridge because he was afraid to let me have a talk with the men alone. That my life was in great danger neither doubted.

Swiftly the men had been gathered for the sortie into the forecastle, Evelyn having volunteered to take the wheel until relieved. The success of the plan had been beyond the expectations of any.

Bothwell was the first of the prisoners to speak.