The Collected Westerns of William MacLeod Raine: 21 Novels in One Volume

by Unknown

  "Are you all tiger, Boris? Isn't there somewhere in your heart a spark of manhood?" she sobbed, her spirit melted at my danger.

  "Rhetorical questions, Evie. Shall we come to business? How did your soon-to-be-deceased lover come on board? Who brought him? What were his plans?"

  "If I tell you, will you spare him?" she begged.

  "I'll promise this," he assured her maliciously. "If you don't tell I'll not spare him."

  She told all she knew except my plan of rescue. As soon as she mentioned the boat in which I had come the fellow hurried up on deck to intercept it.

  I could hear a boat scraping against the side of the schooner as it was being lowered. Fleming and two others got in and paddled back and forth among the bushes. They found nothing.

  My friends had managed to slip away unseen and were headed for the Argos. You may believe that I wished them a safe and speedy voyage.

  Bothwell came down the forecastle ladder swearing. He went straight to Evelyn. Before he opened the door he was all suavity once more.

  "They've got away this time. Just as well perhaps. We'll be able to concentrate our attention on the wedding festivities. Can you be ready in half an hour, dear heart?"

  "Ready for what?" The words choked in her throat.

  "To make your lover a happy man. This is our wedding night, my dear."

  "Never! I'd rather lie at the bottom of the bay. I wouldn't marry you to save my life."

  "H-m! You exaggerate, as is the manner of your charming sex. Now I'll wager that you'd marry me to save--why, to save even that meddling Irishman who is listening to our talk."

  She strangled a little cry of despair.

  "Why do you hate him so? Is it because he is so much better and braver than you?"

  "I don't hate him. He annoys me. So I step on him, just as I do on this spider."

  "Don't, Boris. I'll give you all my share of the treasure. I'll forgive you everything you've done. I'll see that you're not prosecuted. Be merciful for once."

  "Don't get hysterical, Evie. Sedgwick understands he has got to pay. He took a fighting chance and he has lost. It's all in the game." The villain must have looked at his watch, and then yawned. "Past 10:30. Excuse me for a half hour while I settle your friend's hash. Afterward I'll be back with the priest."

  "No--no! I won't have it. Boris, if you ever loved me--Oh, God in heaven, help me now!"

  I think that in her wild despair she had flung herself on her knees in front of him. Her voice shook, broke almost into a scream.

  "Are these--dramatics--for yourself or for him?" Bothwell asked with a sneer.

  "Don't kill him! Don't! I'll do whatever you say."

  "Will you marry me--at once--to-night?"

  I spoke up from the porthole where I was listening.

  "No, she won't, you scoundrel! As for me, I'd advise you to catch your hare before you cook it."

  "I'm on my way to catch it now, dear Sedgwick, just as soon as I break away from the lady," he called back insolently.

  "I'll--marry you." The words came from a parched throat.

  "To-night," he demanded.

  "Not to-night," she begged. "When we get back to Panama."

  "No. I'm not going to give you a chance to welch. Now--here--on this schooner."

  "Not to-night. I'm so--weary and--unstrung. I'll do whatever you say, but--give me time to--to--Oh, I'm afraid!"

  "Bothwell, you cur, come in here and you and I will see this out to a finish!" I cried in helpless fury.

  "Presently, my dear Sedgwick. I'll be there soon enough, and that's a promise. But ladies first. You wouldn't have me delay my wedding, would you?"

  I flung myself against the door repeatedly and tried to beat it down, but my rage was useless. The lock and the hinges held. Back I went to my porthole.

  "Evelyn, are you there?"

  "Yes," came the answer in a choked voice.

  "Don't do it. What are you thinking of? I'd rather die a hundred deaths than have you marry him."

  "I must, Jack. If you should be killed--and I could have prevented it---- Oh, don't you see I must?"

  The words were wrung from her in a cry, as if she had been a tortured child.

  "Of course she must. But why make a tragedy of it? By Heaven, you wound my vanity between the pair of you. Am I not straight--as good a man as my neighbor--still young? Come, let us make an end of the heavy-villain-and-hero business. You, my dear Sedgwick, shall stand up and give the bride away. That is to say, you shall stand at your porthole. You'll find rice in a sack to scatter if you will. We want you to enjoy yourself. Don't we, Evie?" Bothwell jeered blithely.

  "You devil from hell!"

  "Pooh! Be reasonable, man. We can't both marry the maid, and by your leave I think the best man wins. Abrupt I may be, but every Katherine is the better for her Petruchio." He turned to her, dropping his irony for tones of curt command. "I'll be back in twenty minutes with the parson. Be ready then."

  With that he turned on his heel and left, locking the door behind him.

  CHAPTER XXV

  A RESCUE

  Even now when it is only a memory I do not like to look back upon that twenty minutes. My poor girl was hysterical, but decided. Neither argument nor entreaty could move her from her resolution to save my life, no matter what the cost. I pleaded in vain.

  "I can't let you die, Jack--I can't--I can't." So she answered all my appeals, with a kind of hopeless despair that went straight to my heart.

  Through my remonstrances there broke a high-pitched voice jabbering something in Spanish of a sort. The sound of running footsteps on the deck above came to us. Some one called a warning.

  "Keep back there or we'll fire!"

  Then my heart leaped, for across the water came the cool, steady voice of Blythe.

  "My man, I want to talk with Bothwell."

  More feet pattered back and forth on the deck, and among the hurrying steps was one sharp and strong.

  "Good evening, Captain Blythe. You're rather late for a call, aren't you? Mr. Sedgwick was in better time. We have to thank him for an hour's pleasant entertainment."

  I recognized the voice as belonging to Bothwell.

  "If you've hurt a hair of his head I'll hold you personally to account. Unless you want me to board your schooner you will at once release Mr. Sedgwick and Miss Wallace."

  "Miss Wallace has practically ceased to exist," the Russian drawled.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I shall have the honor to send you cards, captain. Miss Wallace has become my wife."

  I stuck my head out of the porthole and shouted. "That's a lie, Sam. You're just in time to save her."

  "Are you a prisoner, Jack?"

  "Yes. So is she. In the next cabin." Some one stepped quickly across the deck and leaned over the rail above me. Bothwell's dark face looked down into mine. He leveled a revolver at my head and fired just as I drew back.

  That shot served as a signal for the attack. Bullets sang back and forth, some from the schooner, others from the boats of my friends.

  As for the battle, I saw from my porthole only the edge of it, and that but for a few moments as a boat full of men swept forward. Someone was firing with a rifle, while the others put their backs to the oars.

  Presently the boat swept round the bow of the schooner and was lost to my view. But I could hear the firing of guns, the trampling of men above, and from their words could tell that the attackers were keeping their distance, even though they were firing pretty steadily from the cover of the shore bushes.

  I must confess that Blythe's method of attack surprised me. How many men Bothwell had I did not know, but it was plain to me that the only way to take the ship was to rush it. We might fire at long distance for a week without doing more than keep them busy.

  That I was wild to be free and in the thick of it may be guessed. Knowing as I did how matters stood between Evelyn and her cousin, I saw that she must be rescued at once to prevent the unholy marriage the Slav
planned.

  Strange that Sam could not see this and that he had not led a more dashing attempt at succoring the girl.

  Three taps on the door of my prison jerked me round as if I had been pulled by a string. My revolver was in my hand. The door opened slowly and let in a man.

  "That's far enough. What do you want?" I asked brusquely.

  "S-sh! It's me, Mr. Sedgwick. Are you in irons?"

  It was Gallagher. If I had been a Frenchman I would have kissed his ugly old mug for the sheer pleasure of seeing it. I knew now that Blythe had kept up the long distance fusillade in order to distract the attention of the defenders while Gallagher had crept close from the shore side.

  I ran forward.

  "Where is your boat?"

  "Hidden in the bushes. Alderson is with it. Where is the lady, sir?"

  In another minute Evelyn was free and standing with us in the passage. I noticed that the fire of the attackers had grown more rapid. The sound seemed closer. The demonstration was taking on the appearance of a real boarding expedition.

  We climbed the forecastle ladder. I led the way, revolver in hand. From where I stood, a few steps from the top of the ladder, my eyes could sweep the forward deck.

  Bothwell, the Flemings, and perhaps half a dozen dark-skinned sailors were crouching behind the bulwarks, raising their heads above the rail only to shoot.

  A constant crackling of small arms filled the air. The boats had crept nearer and were pouring a very steady fire upon the defenders.

  The forward movement was only a diversion under cover of which we might have a chance to escape, but it was being executed with so much briskness and spirit that Bothwell could not guess its harmless nature.

  At my signal the sailor led Evelyn quickly toward the poop. With my eyes over my left shoulder I followed at their heels. We had all but reached the stern when I heard the smack of a fist and turned in time to see a Panama peon hit the deck full length.

  He had been hurrying forward and had caught sight of us. His mouth was open to shout an alarm at the time the Irishman's fist had landed against the double row of shining teeth.

  The fellow rolled over and was up like an acrobat. But my revolver, pointing straight at his stomach, steadied him in an instant.

  "Don't move or shout," I warned.

  From the bushes Alderson had been waiting for us and his boat was in place. He flung up a rope ladder with grappling hooks on the end. Gallagher fixed them to the rail and helped Evelyn down.

  "You next," I ordered.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Your turn now, Sambo," I told the peon after the sailor had gone.

  The fellow rolled his eyes wildly toward the stem of the vessel but found no hope from that quarter. He clambered over the rail like a monkey and went down hand after hand. I followed him.

  We were huddled promiscuously in the little boat so that it rocked to the very lip. For a half a minute I was afraid we were going down, but a shift in position by Gallagher steadied the shell.

  Meanwhile Alderson had thrown his muscles into the oars and we drew away steadily; fifty strokes, and the shadows had swallowed us.

  Alderson pulled across the river and let the boat drift down the opposite bank. The outgoing tide carried us swiftly. We slipped past the schooner unobserved. Gallagher blew twice on a whistle and the two boats commanded by Blythe and Yeager at once drew back into safety.

  Some three hundred yards farther down stream they caught up with us.

  "All right, Jack?" Blythe called across to me.

  "All right, Sam."

  "Miss Wallace is with you, of course?"

  "Yes, and one other passenger who nearly swamped us. Can you take our prisoner?"

  His boat pulled up beside us and relieved us of one very frightened Panama peon. We were very glad to be rid of him, for a dozen times the waves had nearly swamped our overloaded skiff and I had been bailing every second.

  A few minutes later we reached the Argos.

  From Blythe I learned that Gallagher had been responsible for the plan by means of which he had rescued us. Moreover, he had insisted on taking the stellar rôle in carrying it out, dangerous as the part had been. It was his way of wiping out his share in the mutiny.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE LAST BRUSH

  We resumed next morning the digging for the treasure. The shore party was made up of Blythe, Yeager, Smith, Higgins and Barbados.

  Those of us left on board had a lazy time of it. I arranged watches of two to guard against any surprise on the part of the enemy either by an attack upon the yacht or by a sally along the shore upon the treasure diggers.

  Having divided my men into watches, I discharged my mind of responsibility. Evelyn and I had a thousand things to tell each other. We sat on the upper deck under the tarpaulin and forgot everything except that we were lovers reunited after dreadful peril.

  Youth is resilient. One would scarce have believed that this girl bubbling over with life and spirits was the same one who had been in such hopeless despair a few hours earlier.

  A night's good sleep had set her up wonderfully.

  Last night I had looked into tired eyes that had not yet fully escaped from the shadows of tragedy, into the sharp oval of a colorless face from which waves of storm had washed the life.

  This morning the sun shone for her.

  Courage had flowed back into her heart. Swift love ran now and again through her cheeks and tinted them.

  She was herself, golden and delicate, elastic and vivid as a captured nymph.

  "When I left the old Argos I thought I never wanted to see the yacht again, but now I think I could be happy here all my life," she confided.

  "Wouldn't you prefer to have your cousin just a few miles farther away?"

  She fell grave for a moment.

  "Do you think he'll try to do more mischief?"

  "He'll try. That's a safe bet. But I think we have him checkmated. By night we ought to have the bulk of the treasure on board. Once we get it the Argos will show him her heels."

  Four bells sounded, six, eight. Dugan came down from the bridge to report to me.

  "Captain Blythe's party coming down to the beach, sir."

  Two of the men were carrying a large chest. It was so heavy that every forty or fifty yards relays relieved each other. The box was brought down to the edge of the water and loaded into a boat. Smith and Higgins took their places at the oars and Blythe stepped into the bow.

  The cargo seemed to call for tackle and ropes. I had them ready before the boat reached us. Blythe superintended the hoisting of the chest, arranging the ropes so as to make a slip impossible. We hauled it safely aboard.

  "Have it taken to the strong room, Sam. There's another waiting for us ashore," Blythe explained.

  "Want me to go back for it?"

  "No. Keep a sharp lookout for our friend up the river."

  He was pulled ashore again and returned two hours later with a second chest, this time leaving Yeager and Barbados on guard at the cache. Gallagher and Alderson were sent ashore later to join Tom's party for the night watch.

  A few more hours' work would be enough to lift the rest of the treasure. Already we had on board a fortune in doubloons and bars of gold, but there was still one more chest to be unearthed. We felt that we were near the end of our adventure and our spirits were high.

  Blythe got out his violin and Evie sang some of her plantation songs, her soft voice falling easily into the indolent negro dialect.

  My stunt was Irish stories. We dragooned the staid Morgan into playing the piano while we ragged.

  It must have been close to midnight before we spoke of breaking up.

  Evelyn and I took a turn on the deck. Our excuse was to get a breath of fresh air, but the truth is that we were always drifting together.

  Even in the company of others our eyes had a way of sending wireless messages of which we two only understood the code.

  We leaned against the rail and looked across
the bay. It was a night of ragged clouds behind which the moon was screened.

  "Isn't that a boat over there?" Evie asked, pointing in the direction of the river mouth.

  The moon had peeped out and was flinging a slant of light over the water. I looked for a long minute.