The Spoilers Part 2

Figures loomed near the rail and she slipped astern, screening herself behind a life-boat, where the cool breeze fanned her face.

The forms she had seen approached, speaking earnestly. Instead of pa.s.sing, they stopped abreast of her hiding-place; then, as they began to talk, she saw that her retreat was cut off and that she must not stir.

"What brings her here?" Glenister was echoing a question of Dextry's. "Bah! What brings them all? What brought 'the d.u.c.h.ess,'

and Cherry Malotte, and all the rest?"

"No, no," said the old man. "She ain't that kind--she's too fine, too delicate--too pretty."

"That's just it--too pretty! Too pretty to be alone--or anything except what she is."

Dextry growled sourly. "This country has plumb ruined you, boy.

You think they're all alike--an' I don't know but they are--all but this girl. Seems like she's different, somehow--but I can't tell."

Glenister spoke musingly:

"I had an ancestor who buccaneered among the Indies, a long time ago--so I'm told. Sometimes I think I have his disposition. He comes and whispers things to me in the night. Oh, he was a devil, and I've got his blood in me--untamed and hot--I can hear him saying something now--something about the spoils of war. Ha, ha!

Maybe he's right. I fought for her to-night--Dex--the way he used to fight for his sweethearts along the Mexicos. She's too beautiful to be good--and 'there's never a law of G.o.d or man runs north of Fifty-three.'"

They moved on, his vibrant, cynical laughter stabbing the girl till she leaned against the yawl for support.

She held herself together while the blood beat thickly in her ears, then fled to the cabin, hurling herself into her berth, where she writhed silently, beating the pillow with hands into which her nails had bitten, staring the while into the darkness with dry and aching eyes.

CHAPTER II

THE STOWAWAY

She awoke to the throb of the engines, and, gazing cautiously through her stateroom window, saw a gla.s.sy, level sea, with the sun brightly agleam on it.

So this was Bering? She had clothed it always with the mystery of her school-days, thinking of it as a weeping, fog-bound stretch of gray waters. Instead, she saw a flat, sunlit main, with occasional sea-parrots flapping their fat bodies out of the ship's course. A glistening head popped up from the waters abreast, and she heard the cry of "seal!"

Dressing, the girl noted minutely the personal articles scattered about the cabin, striving to derive therefrom some fresh hint of the characteristics of the owners. First, there was an elaborate, copper-backed toilet-set, all richly ornamented and leather-bound.

The metal was magnificently hand-worked and bore Glenister's initial. It spoke of elegant extravagance, and seemed oddly out of place in an Arctic miner's equipment, as did also a small set of De Maupa.s.sant.

Next, she picked up Kipling's Seven Seas, marked liberally, and felt that she had struck a scent. The roughness and brutality of the poems had always chilled her, though she had felt vaguely their splendid pulse and swing. This was the girl's first venture from a sheltered life. She had not rubbed elbows with the world enough to find that Truth may be rough, unshaven, and garbed in homespun. The book confirmed her a.n.a.lysis of the junior partner.

Pendent from a hook was a worn and blackened holster from which peeped the b.u.t.t of a large Colt's revolver, showing evidence of many years' service. It spoke mutely of the white-haired Dextry, who, before her inspection was over, knocked at the door, and, when she admitted him, addressed her cautiously:

"The boy's down forrad, teasin' grub out of a flunky. He'll be up in a minute. How'd ye sleep?"

"Very well, thank you," she lied, "but I've been thinking that I ought to explain myself to you."

"Now, see here," the old man interjected, "there ain't no explanations needed till you feel like givin' them up. You was in trouble--that's unfortunate; we help you--that's natural; no questions asked--that's Alaska."

"Yes--but I know you must think--"

"What bothers me," the other continued irrelevantly, "is how in blazes we're goin' to keep you hid. The steward's got to make up this room, and somebody's bound to see us packin' grub in."

"I don't care who knows if they won't send me back. They wouldn't do that, would they?" She hung anxiously on his words.

"Send you back? Why, don't you savvy that this boat is bound for Nome? There ain't no turnin' back on gold stampedes, and this is the wildest rush the world ever saw. The captain wouldn't turn back--he couldn't--his cargo's too precious and the company pays five thousand a day for this ship. No, we ain't puttin' back to unload no stowaways at five thousand per. Besides, we pa.s.sengers wouldn't let him--time's too precious." They were interrupted by the rattle of dishes outside, and Dextry was about to open the door when his hand wavered uncertainly above the k.n.o.b, for he heard the hearty greeting of the ship's captain.

"Well, well, Glenister, where's all the breakfast going?"

"Oo!" whispered the old man--"that's Cap' Stephens."

"Dextry isn't feeling quite up to form this morning," replied Glenister easily.

"Don't wonder! Why weren't you aboard sooner last night? I saw you--'most got left, eh? Served you right if you had." Then his voice dropped to the confidential: "I'd advise you to cut out those women. Don't misunderstand me, boy, but they're a bad lot on this boat. I saw you come aboard. Take my word for it--they're a bad lot. Cut 'em out. Guess I'll step inside and see what's up with Dextry."

The girl shrank into her corner, gazing apprehensively at the other listener.

"Well--er--he isn't up yet," they heard Glenister stammer; "better come around later."

"Nonsense; it's time he was dressed." The master's voice was gruffly good-natured. "h.e.l.lo, Dextry! Hey! Open up for inspection." He rattled the door.

There was nothing to be done. The old miner darted an inquiring glance at his companion, then, at her nod, slipped the bolt, and the captain's blue bulk filled the room.

His grizzled, close-bearded face was genially wrinkled till he spied the erect, gray figure in the corner, when his cap came off involuntarily. There his courtesy ended, however, and the smile died coldly from his face. His eyes narrowed, and the good- fellowship fell away, leaving him the stiff and formal officer.

"Ah," he said, "not feeling well, eh? I thought I had met all of our lady pa.s.sengers. Introduce me, Dextry."

Dextry squirmed under his cynicism.

"Well--I--ah--didn't catch the name myself."

"What?"

"Oh, there ain't much to say. This is the lady--we brought aboard last night--that's all."

"Who gave you permission?"

"n.o.body. There wasn't time."

"There wasn't TIME, eh? Which one of you conceived the novel scheme of stowing away ladies in your cabin? Whose is she? Quick!

Answer me." Indignation was vibrant in his voice.

"Oh!" the girl cried--her eyes widening darkly. She stood slim and pale and slightly trembling.

His words had cut her bitterly, though through it all he had scrupulously avoided addressing her.

The captain turned to Glenister, who had entered and closed the door.

"Is this your work? Is she yours?"

"No," he answered quietly, while Dextry chimed in: