The Pagan Madonna

by Harold MacGrath

  CHAPTER X

  Cleigh was not only a big and powerful man--he was also courageous, butthe absence of Dodge and the presence of Cunningham offered such sinisteromen that temporarily he was bereft of his natural wit and initiative.

  "Where's Dodge?" he asked, stupidly.

  "Dodge is resting quietly," answered Cunningham, gravely. "He'll be on hisfeet in a day or two."

  That seemed to wake up Cleigh a bit. He drew his automatic.

  "Face to the wall, or I'll send a bullet into you!"

  Cunningham shook his head.

  "Did you examine the clip this morning? When you carry weapons like thatfor protection never put it in your pocket without a look-see. Dodgewouldn't have made your mistake. Shoot! Try it on the floor, or up throughthe lights--or at me if you'd like that better. The clip is empty."

  Mechanically Cleigh took aim and bore against the trigger. There was noexplosion. A depressing sense of unreality rolled over the _Wanderer's_owner.

  "So you went into town for her luggage? Did you find the beads?"

  Cleigh made a negative sign. It was less an answer to Cunningham than anacknowledgment that he could not understand why the bullet clip should beempty.

  "It was an easy risk," explained Cunningham. "You carried the gun, but Idoubt you ever looked it over. Having loaded it once upon a time, youbelieved that was sufficient, eh? Know what I think? The girl has hiddenthe beads in her hair. Did you search her?"

  Again Cleigh shook his head, as much over the situation as over thequestion.

  "What, you ran all this risk and hadn't the nerve to search her? Well,that's rich! Unless you've read her from my book. She would probably havescratched out your eyes. There's an Amazon locked up in that gracefulbody. I'd like to see her head against a bit of clear blue sky--a touch ofHenner blues and reds. What a whale of a joke! Abduct a young woman, riskprison, and then afraid to lay hands on her! You poor old piker!"Cunningham laughed.

  "Cunningham----"

  "All right, I'll be merciful. To make a long story short, it means thatfor the present I am in command of this yacht. I warned you. Will you besensible, or shall I have to lock you up like your two-gun man fromTexas?"

  "Piracy!" cried Cleigh, coming out of his maze.

  "Maritime law calls it that, but it isn't really. No pannikins of rum, nofifteen men on a dead man's chest. Parlour stuff, you might call it. Thewhole affair--the parlour side of it--depends upon whether you purpose toact philosophically under stress or kick up a hullabaloo. In the latterevent you may reasonably expect some rough stuff. Truth is, I'm onlyborrowing the yacht as far as latitude ten degrees and longitude onehundred and ten degrees, off Catwick Island. You carry a boson's whistleat the end of your watch chain. Blow it!" was the challenge.

  "You bid me blow it?"

  "Only to convince you how absolutely helpless you are," said Cunningham,amiably. "Yesterday this day's madness did prepare, as our old friend Omarused to say. Vedder did great work on that, didn't he? Toot the whistle,for shortly we shall weigh anchor."

  Like a man in a dream, Cleigh got out his whistle. The first blast wasfeeble and windy. Cunningham grinned.

  "Blow it, man, blow it!"

  Cleigh set the whistle between his lips and blew a blast that must havebeen heard half a mile away.

  "That's something like! Now we'll have results!"

  Above, on deck, came the scuffle of hurrying feet, and immediately--as ifthey had been prepared against this moment--three fourths of the crew cametumbling down the companionway.

  "Seize this man!" shouted Cleigh, thunderously, as he indicatedCunningham.

  The men, however, fell into line and came to attention. Most of them weregrinning.

  "Do you hear me? Brown, Jessup, McCarthy--seize this man!"

  No one stirred. Cleigh then lost his head. With a growl he sprang towardCunningham. Half the crew jumped instantly into the gap between, and theywere no longer grinning. Cunningham pushed aside the human wall and facedthe _Wanderer's_ owner.

  "Do you begin to understand?"

  "No! But whatever your game is, it will prove bad business for you in theend. And you men, too. The world has grown mighty small, and you'll findit hard to hide--unless you kill me and have done with it!"

  "Tut, tut! Wouldn't harm a hair of your head. The world is small, as yousay, but just at this moment infernally busy mopping up. What, botherabout a little dinkum dinkus like this, with Russia mad, Germany ugly,France grumbling at England, Italy shaking her fist at Greece, and labourmaking a monkey of itself? Nay! I'll shift the puzzle so you can read it.When the yacht was released from auxiliary duties she was without a crew.The old crew, that of peace times, was gone utterly, with the exception offour. You had the yacht keelhauled, gave her another daub of war paint andset about to find a crew. And I had one especially picked for you!Ordinarily, you've a tolerably keen eye. Didn't it strike you odd to landa crew who talked more or less grammatically, who were clean bodily, whoweren't boozers?"

  Cleigh, fully alive now, coldly ran his inspecting glance over the men. Hehad never before given their faces any particular attention. Besides, thiswas the first time he had seen so many of them at once. During boat drillthey had been divided into four squads. Young faces, lean and hard some ofthem, but reckless rather than bad. All of them at this moment appeared tobe enjoying some huge joke.

  "I can only repeat," said Cleigh, "that you are all playing withdynamite."

  "Perhaps. Most of these boys fought in the war; they played the game; butwhen they returned nobody had any use for them. I caught them on therebound, when they were a bit desperate. We formed a company--but of thatmore anon. Will you be my guest, or will you be my prisoner?"

  The velvet fell away from Cunningham's voice.

  "Have I any choice? I'll accept the condition because I must. But I'vewarned you. I suppose I'd better ask at once what the ransom is."

  "Ransom? Not a copper cent! You can make Singapore in two days from theCatwick."

  "And for helping me into Singapore I'm to agree not to hand such men asyou leave me over to the British authorities?"

  "All wrong! The men who will help you into Singapore or take you to Manilawill be as innocent as newborn babes. Wouldn't believe it, would you, butI'm one of those efficiency sharks. Nothing left to chance; all cut anddried; pluperfect. Cleigh, I never break my word. I honestly intendedturning over those beads to you, but Morrissy muddled the play."

  "Next door to murder."

  "Near enough, but he'll pull out."

  "Are you going to take Miss Norman along?"

  "What, set her ashore to sic the British Navy on us? I'm sorry. I don'twant her on board; but that was your play, not mine. You tried todouble-cross me. But you need have no alarm. I will kill the man whotouches her. You understand that, boys?"

  The crew signified that the order was understood, though one of them--thereturned Flint--smiled cynically. If Cunningham noted the smile he made noverbal comment upon it.

  "Weigh anchor, then! Look alive! The sooner we nose down to the delta thesooner we'll have the proper sea room."

  The crew scurried off, and almost at once came familiar sounds--the rattleof the anchor chain on the windlass, the creaking of pulley blocks as thelaunch came aboard, the thud of feet hither and yon as portables werestowed or lashed to the deck-house rail. For several minutes Cleigh andCunningham remained speechless and motionless.

  "You get all the angles?" asked Cunningham, finally.

  "Some of them," admitted Cleigh.

  "At any rate, enough to make you accept a bad situation with good grace?"

  "You're a foolhardy man, Cunningham. Do you expect me to lie down whenthis play is over? I solemnly swear to you that I'll spend the rest of mydays hunting you down."

  "And I solemnly swear that you shan't catch me. I'm through with the oldgame of playing the genie in the bottle for predatory millionaires.Henceforth I'm on my own. I'm romantic--yes, sir--I'm romantic from heelto cowlick; and now I'm g
oing to give rein to this stifled longing."

  "You will come to a halter round your neck. I have always paid your priceon the nail, Cunningham."

  "You had to. Hang it, passions are the very devil, aren't they? Sooner orlater one jumps upon your back and rides you like the Old Man of theSea."

  Cleigh heard the rumble of steam.

  "Objects of art!" went on Cunningham. "It eats into your vitals to hearthat some rival has picked up a Correggio or an ancient Kirman or a bit ofPersian plaque. You talk of halters. Lord lumme, how obliquely you look atfacts! Take that royal Persian there--the second-best animal rug onearth--is there no murder behind the woof and warp of it? What? Talksense, Cleigh, talk sense! You cable me: Get such and such. I get it. Whatthe devil do you care how it was got, so long as it eventually becomesyours? It's a case of the devil biting his own tail--pot calling kettleblack."

  "How much do you want?"

  "No, Cleigh, it's the romantic idea."

  "I will give you fifty thousand for the rug."

  "I'm sorry. No use now of telling you the plot; you wouldn't believe me,as the song goes. Dinner at seven. Will you dine in the salon with me, orwill you dine in the solemn grandeur of your own cabin, in company with DaVinci, Teniers, and that Carlo Dolci the Italian Government has beenhunting high and low for?"

  "I will risk the salon."

  "To keep an eye on me as long as possible. That's fair enough. You heardwhat I said to those boys. Well, every mother's son of 'em will toe themark. There will be no change at all in the routine. Simply we lay a newcourse that will carry us outside and round Formosa, down to the South Seaand across to the Catwick. I'll give you one clear idea. A million andimmunity would not stir me, Cleigh."

  "What's the game--if it's beyond ransom?"

  Cunningham laughed boyishly.

  "It's big, and you'll laugh, too, when I tell you."

  "On which side of the mouth?"

  "That's up to you."

  "Is it the rug?"

  "Oh, that, of course! I warned you that I'd come for the rug. It took twoyears out of my young life to get that for you, and it has always hauntedme. I just told you about passions, didn't I? Once on your back, they rideyou like the devil--down-hill."

  "A crook."

  "There you go again--pot calling kettle black! If you want to moralize,where's the line between the thief and the receiver? Fie on you! Dare youhang that Da Vinci, that Dolci, that Holbein in your gallery home? No!Stolen goods. What a passion! You sail across the seas alone, alonebecause you can't satisfy your passion and have knowing companions onboard. When the yacht goes out of commission you store the loot, andtremble when you hear a fire alarm. All right. Dinner at seven. I'll goand liberate your son and the lady."

  "Cunningham, I will kill you out of hand the very first chance."

  "Old dear, I'll add a fact for your comfort. There will be guns on board,but half an hour gone all the ammunition was dumped into the Whangpoo. Soyou won't have anything but your boson's whistle. You're a bigger man thanI am physically, and I've a slue-foot, a withered leg; but I've all thebarroom tricks you ever heard of. So don't make any mistakes in thatdirection. You are free to come and go as you please; but the moment youstart any rough house, into your cabin you go, and you'll stay thereuntil we raise the Catwick. You haven't a leg to stand on."

  Cunningham lurched out of the salon and into the passage. He opened thedoor to Cabin Two and turned on the light. Dennison blinked stupidly.Cunningham liberated him and stood back.

  "Dinner at seven."

  "What the devil are you doing on board?" asked Dennison, thickly.

  "Well, here's gratitude for you! But in order that there will be nomisunderstanding, I've turned to piracy for a change. Great sport! I'vechartered the yacht for a short cruise." His banter turned into cold,precise tones. Cunningham went on: "No nonsense, captain! I put this crewon board away back in New York. Those beads, though having a merit oftheir own, were the lure to bring your father to these parts. Yourpresence and Miss Norman's are accidents for which I am genuinely sorry.But frankly, I dare not turn you loose. That's the milk in the cocoanut. Igrant you the same privileges as I grant your father, which he hasphilosophically agreed to accept. Your word of honour to take it sensibly,and the freedom of the yacht is yours. Otherwise, I'll lock you up in aplace not half so comfortable as this."

  "Piracy!"

  "Yes, sir. These are strangely troubled days. We've slumped morally.Humanity has been on the big kill, with the result that the tablets ofMoses have been busted up something fierce. And here we are again, allkotowing to the Golden Calf! All I need is your word--the word of aCleigh."

  "I give it." Dennison gave his word so that he might be free to protectthe girl in the adjoining cabin. "But conditionally."

  "Well?"

  "That the young lady shall at all times be treated with the utmostrespect. You will have to kill me otherwise."

  "These Cleighs! All right. That happens to be my own order to the crew.Any man who breaks it will pay heavily."

  "What's the game?" asked Dennison, rubbing his wrists tenderly while hebalanced unsteadily upon his aching legs.

  "Later! I'll let Miss Norman out. That's so--her things are in the salon.I'll get them, but I'll unlock her door first."

  "What in heaven's name has happened?" asked Jane as she and Dennison stoodalone in the passage.

  "The Lord knows!" gloomily. "But that scoundrel Cunningham has planted acrew of his own on board, and we are all prisoners."

  "Cunningham?"

  "The chap with the limp."

  "With the handsome face? But this is piracy!"

  "About the size of it."

  "Oh, I knew something was going to happen! But a pirate! Surely it must bea joke?"

  So it was--probably the most colossal joke that ever flowered in the mindof a man. The devil must have shouted and the gods must have held theirsides, for it took either a devil or a god to understand the joke.