The Shadow Passes

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XVIII FIVE ROUNDS AND A FRIEND

  It may seem a little strange that MacGregor and his young companionsaccepted the whole situation so calmly. Yet the old man had lived longand in many places. He was wise in the ways of the world. He realizedthat they had already seen too much to be released at once. How longwould they be detained? To this question he could form no answer. Perhapsuntil the end of the legal fishing season, twenty or more days away.Perhaps longer. They might even be taken to the Orient. After that somefantastic story might be told of their being picked up adrift on the highseas.

  Johnny was thinking along these same lines. But he, unlike MacGregor, wasalready laying plans for escape. For the present, however, he was willingto bide his time.

  Dinner was brought to them by a smiling little brown man. It was not abad meal, as meals go on the sea--boiled rice, baked salmon and tea.

  When it was over, MacGregor slipped out into the gathering night. Whilehe was gone not a word was spoken. Johnny was busy with his own thoughts.So, he supposed, was the girl who now looked so very much like a boy.

  He was thinking, "I wonder if there were shadows passing us in the fog.Or did we imagine them?" Certainly he had seen nothing resembling ashadow here. And this girl. Would she forgive him? Well enough he knewthat in trying times such as these people were either drawn closertogether or driven farther apart. He could only wait and see.

  "There's hope in the airplane that young Dan MacMillan is bringing up,"he thought with fresh courage. "If only he'd arrive and fly over thisship we'd manage somehow to signal him and then the whole navy would beon this old freighter's heels."

  He was thinking now of something told to him in secret by Red McGee. Hehad been speaking of the cannery. It had been built by old ChadMacMillan. A crusty, honest, fair-dealing man, he had managed it for manyyears.

  "Then he died," Red had gone on, "and young Dan MacMillan, just out ofuniversity and full of big ideas, inherited it. This winter I suggestedthat he hire a seaplane to go out scouting for these Oriental robbers.

  "'It's a fine idea,' he said to me. 'A grand idea. I'll buy a seaplaneand learn to pilot it. You'll be seeing me up there scouting around assoon as the salmon season opens.'

  "That's what he said to me," Red McGee had drawn in a deep breath. "Thesewild young millionaires! What can you expect? He's not here now and likeas not won't show up at all."

  "What can you expect?" Johnny was thinking over his words now. "If onlyDan MacMillan showed up over this old craft all these little brown menwould be scared out of their skins."

  But would he come? He dared not so much as hope.

  He wondered about Lawrence and Blackie. He suffered a pang because ofLawrence. What a shame that he had dragged the boy up here! He would befar better off in Matanuska valley planting turnips and potatoes, huntingwild geese, and, perhaps, catching a glacier bear way back in themountains.

  But here was MacGregor. And he carried in his hands, of all things, twopairs of boxing gloves. Johnny had wondered where they were to come from,but now here they were.

  "These little brown boys go in strong for boxing," the old man explained.

  "I told them," continued MacGregor, "that you were one of America's mostpromising young boxers, but a little out of training."

  "Quite a little," Johnny agreed.

  "I said you and your boy pal would put on an exhibition match on decktonight."

  Rusty shot him a look, but said never a word.

  "I hope you understand," the old man said soberly, "that I am asking youto do this for your own good." He was talking to Rusty.

  She bowed gravely. Then, of a sudden, her face brightened. "I hope theytake us lightly," she said. "That may give us a chance to escape."

  "That's what it will," MacGregor agreed. "And this boxin' stunt is justthe thing to put them off their guard."

  A half hour later, beneath a brilliant electric light, with a circle ofdark faces about them, Johnny and Rusty shook hands for the first time intheir lives, then drew on the gloves.

  Johnny had boxed strange people in many an out-of-the-way place. Neverbefore had he boxed with a girl. He was not sure he was going to like itnow. But with MacGregor as manager of the strange affair, there was noturning back.

  It _was_ strange, there was no getting around that. A swaying light, ahost of sober, brown faces, the gray fog hanging over all, made it seemfantastic indeed.

  There were to be five short rounds with MacGregor keeping time.

  At the very beginning, Johnny discovered that his opponent was fast andskillful. Having no sons, Red McGee had taken it upon himself to trainhis daughter in the manly art of boxing. Life on the bleak Alaskan shorewas often dull. The girl had welcomed each new lesson. And now Johnny wasdiscovering that her punches that from time to time reached his cheek orchin, were far from love pats. They really stung, nor, try as he would,could he entirely escape them.

  "She's taking it out on me because of her father," he thought grimly."Well, I can take it."

  What did the audience think of this affair? Who could tell? They watchedin silence. Once when Rusty was tossed into their midst they helped herto her feet and pushed her into place. Their movements were so gentle,the flitting smiles about their lips so friendly, that, for the moment,the girl forgot her role and said, "Thank you."

  The rounds passed speedily. When the fourth and last was up, Johnny saidin a whisper, "Come on, Rusty, let's make this one snappy. Give them areal show."

  Snappy it was. From the moment MacGregor gave them the signal theywhipped into it with a wild swinging of gloves. Rusty's footwork wasperfect. Johnny found himself admiring the manner in which, hornet-like,she leaped at him for a sharp, stinging blow, then faded away.

  Perhaps he was admiring her too much. However that might be, in the lastthirty seconds of the bout he stepped into something. Trying for a bit ofreprisal in the way of a tap on her chin, he left an opening far toowide. Rusty's eyes opened wide, her stout right arm shot out and up. Ittook Johnny squarely under the chin and, "believe it or not," he wentdown and out like a match.

  He was not out long, perhaps eight seconds. When at last his stubborneyelids opened he found himself looking at a circle of grinning brown menand at Rusty who stood staring at him, but not smiling at all.

  "Well," he laughed, "that must square the McGee's with Johnny Thompson."

  "John--Johnny, please!" she cried. "I didn't mean to. I truly didn't."

  "All right." Johnny sprang to his feet. "Shake on it. Let's always befriends."

  The girl made no response. There was no need. She did clasp his hand in agrip that was friendly and strong.

  A half hour later they were having one more cup of tea in theirstaterooms and Johnny was thinking, "Life surely is strange. I wonder howthis affair will end."

  Before he fell asleep he went over it all again. Blackie and Lawrence,the silent, moving shadow, the hard-working men on shore, the airplanethat might come. When he was too far gone in sleep to think clearly hefancied that he felt the ship's propeller vibrating, that the ship was onthe move. He was not sure. After all, what did it matter? There wasnothing he could do about it. And so, he fell fast asleep.