XII
LL}}AND, sea and air still shook under the tremendous force of the exploding gases. The savages who had attacked the terrace and had survived the explosion were scrambling frantically back up the cliffs to safety, leaving their broken dead and writhing wounded behind them. Tiburi was dead, with a score of his followers. The survivors were swimming frantically off or had crowded into a few canoes that had not been badly damaged, many clinging to the gunwales and out riggers as the paddlers strove to get away from this place of utter disaster and the outbreak of the wrath of the gods.
For surely this was a thing of the gods, the gods of the white men! The tribe had long worshiped those enormous images, especially the central figure. It had meant nothing to them of actual creed, it held no actual place in their polytheistic pantheon but they knew it to be the likeness of a god and of a great god. Now it had been overthrown in fire and flame, involving them in its destruction, coming to the rescue of the whites. For they could see the whites still moving on the terrace; and had not one of them flung thundering, fiery death among them?
They held no desire but to flee. Never again on that island would the magic of the white man be questioned or his purposes thwarted. Yet Steiner had been white and he had been their ally. But he had also been their prisoner, therefore there were white men who were at odds with the gods and others high in favor. But it would behoove them for the future to hold all white strangers in awe.
Out at sea the savages had heard the roar and seen the flame; the fragments of tossed rock and masses of toppling cliff and statues. And their canoes had vanished toward the safety of their cone and the deep bush.
Hooper rushed out before the dust had settled, bounding from the cave where he had Sought cover at Manning’s shout, hurrying to pick up his comrade and partner, fearing that he had sacrificed himself to save the rest.
Manning had seized a handful of dynamite-sticks at the last moment, stuffing fuse and primers in his pocket. The bulk of the explosive, still in its box, he had kicked over the cliff before he sought safety, after lighting the fuses. From the frightful force of the discharge it seemed certain that this too had detonated. The blocks on the terrace were displaced as if by an earthquake, the cliff below was rent and fissured; every god had fallen from its pedestal, though only the one had toppled over the cliff. A great wave formed, rolling in and then retreating in a surge that bore the whole and broken canoes away with their riding, clinging freight, in confusion.
Manning, in falling, or perhaps before he fell, had rolled the dozen sticks of dynamite along the terrace ahead of him. The force of the explosion, expending itself in the direction of the greatest resistance, had, with the freakishness of nitro-glycerine, sent out lateral blasts of gas and air that had floored Manning but had left the scattered sticks immune, saving his life and also leaving a weapon of deadly offense if any were still needed. For, with the exception of a few shells in the magazines of their rifles, they had used all their ammunition.
Manning, with his swift purpose and action, doing the only thing that could have saved them from the horde, risking his own life without thought or fear, had not been killed. The explosion had stunned him, flinging him headlong. The stone flags had met his head violently, his face was a bloody mask, the clothes had been torn from his back; but Hooper, as he raised him, saw that he was still breathing, heard him groan, and thanked God.
A sailor ran with water from the cave and tossed it on the face of the unconscious man, racing back for more with which Hooper, taking his friend’s head upon his lap, bathed the bruised features and at last saw Manning’s eyes open intelligent, still indomitable with purpose. He smiled up at Hooper.
“Close call—touch and go,” he said faintly. “You’re safe. How about?”
“We’re all safe,” said Hooper huskily. “Thanks to you and your confounded foolhardiness. You might have blown yourself to atoms!”
His chiding was full of deep affection, of admiration, and it acted like a tonic on Manning.
“You’ve scattered them to the four winds,” said Hooper. “Those who have legs left and arms to swim or paddle with are using them. It’s the end of Tiburi.”
“The schooner?” asked Manning.
He got up with anxious aid of Hooper, bathing his face, which still bled freely.
“I’m sound,” he said. “No bones broken. Feel as if I’d been pounded by a hundred war-dubs at once. Ah, they’re holding them off. Good men!”
Rifles were spitting from the deck of the Mary L. answered from the two whaleboats in less measure. Steiner had only the guns and pistols of the four treacherous guards and, deserted by his savage allies, his attack was failing. One or two of his men in each boat seemed to have been badly wounded, if not killed, to judge by their postures.
“Got to get out there,” said Hooper. “It’s a problem. Three of our chaps are pretty badly slashed and clubbed. Dragged them into the cave when you started the fire works. That was quick thinking, Manning.
“We’d have hard work getting around the crater-slopes,” he said, “and we’d have to swim for it at the last. There seems something wrong with the schooner’s engine. Otherwise I believe Andersen would have put out to sea to shake off that attack. Anyway they can’t come in through the second reef. Steiner’s got both our boats. Don’t imagine there’s anything left in the shape of a canoe. But there might be.”
He sent a sailor down to the beach to look and the man came hurrying back with a shout. The big wave had washed two canoes fairly inside the cave and they were in fair shape. The dazed savages had been too literally swept off their feet to think of such a happening. They were still paddling off to the shore at a safe distance from these white men and their gods, who might again blast them. The lagoon was dotted with the heads of swimmers.
In the two canoes they took up the paddles, Hooper and Manning assisting to take the place of the three wounded sailors. Manning protested that he was whole and did not want to get stiff and Hooper’s heart lightened as he saw the diver stroking lustily. Salt water had proved an astringent for the abrasions of his face though the superficial wounds gave him a grim and ghastly appearance.
As they neared the reef two men in each canoe paddled while the others took up the rifles and the two partners prepared their dynamite grenades in case Steiner might come to close quarters. But Steiner had seen that he was beaten. To be left behind was now his great fear, or that of his men. The savages, recovering from their shock, would take vengeance. Before they got within true hailing-distance his followers were shouting and waving their hands to announce their surrender.
“Hear that?” called Hooper from his canoe across to Manning in the other. “Kamerad! Wouldn’t wonder if they got that out of the papers!”
Manning nodded back. He saw Steiner, still sullen, but overborne by his men. He saw two of the guards protesting and then silenced.
White and Smith? The two names took on sudden illumination. Weiss and Schmidt, undoubtedly. Ryder too sounded Germanic.
As for Holabird, he had been won over by the talk of Edwards, the thought of gain. It was exceedingly plain that these four men had been shipped by the too slick Edwards for a previously understood purpose.
The attempt to cozen the sailors to mutiny having failed, Edwards, with his tricks of magic, his knowledge of dialects, had seen his chance to win over Tiburi, to effect a junction with Steiner; a partnership to be variously apportioned its rewards. And they had accorded him full facility. He had taken off provisions to the terrace, his four men were in daily contact with Steiner, Edwards had had ample opportunities to cement the alliance with Tiburi. And he had overcome Tiburi’s fear of the Hims. How, was not yet plain.
Edwards had faked his ankle to remain on board and put the engine out of commission. It was not cowardice that kept him there. Perhaps—Manning remembered the wireless incident—perhaps the chapter was not yet quite closed.
HOOPER steered straight for the schooner and Manning followed. All firing had ceased from the whale-boats. The men in them hung on their oars, looking anxiously toward the Mary L., debating their fate, dreading to be left behind.
Andersen and Thompson met them at the gangway. Manning’s assistants carried the wounded men below. They had been temporarily patched up and none of them appeared seriously wounded beyond ultimate recovery.
“We held them off, sir,” said Andersen. “One or two flesh-wounds, but we potted some of them. And now they’ve quit. Afraid you were blown up till we made you out in the canoes. Goin’ to leave them here where they belong, on No Man’s Island?”
He jerked a thumb toward the two boats.
“No,” said Hooper. “They’ll come along. We need the boats, for one thing. Were you trying to stand by, Andersen, or is the engine out of commission?”
“That sly devil, Edwards, did something to it,” put in Thompson. “Ling’s overhauling it now to find out the trouble. And Edwards was monkeying with the wireless.”
“I thought so,” said Manning.
Hooper glanced at his partner with raised eyebrows that bore a mute apology.
“Fong had the right dope, Manning,” he said. Then to Thompson, “Where is he?”
“In his bunk. Fong sliced him up pretty badly and now he’s trying to keep him alive till you talk with him.”
“I’ll go see him,” said Hooper. “Coming, Manning? Andersen, let those chaps in the boats stew for a while. If they start to show fight, settle it. They won’t run away, I fancy. And the natives won’t bother us any more. Soon as Ling gets the engine fixed, let me know. Want to come along, Thompson?”
They found Edwards in his bunk. It was plain to see that he was dying. His eyes were closed and his-face waxen. Fong sat beside him, sphinx-like. Hooper felt the faint pulse.
“Almost gone,” he said. “What happened, Fong?”
“After you go,” said Fong, “Ling, he find him at wi’less. Lang think that funny. Edwa’d he speak his foot plenty betteh. Ling speak why fo’ he touch wi’less? Edwa’d say that none of Ling business. He speak maybe we want use wi’less. Ling, he come to my galley.
“Bimeby native come in canoe, two boat come with Steineh. Big fight look like begin. Andersen, he speak staht engine. Engine no good. I sabby plenty that Edwa’d he fixee. On deck, plenty gun go off. Same from boat. I find Edwa’d sneakee along in cabin. He open po’t, makee signal. He try shoot me. This time he not so slick. He had gun, I have knife. All right, gun no good. Knife plenty good. So!”
He drew his forefinger across his abdomen with an eloquent gesture.
“Pretty soon he die,” he said.
“Fong, go and get my medicine-chest,” said Hooper. “I’ll try and bring him back,” he went on to Manning and Thompson when the Chinaman had gone. “We’ve got to get to the bottom of this.”
He gave Edwards a hypodermic and presently the lax figure stirred wearily and the eyes opened. Manning gave the steward a sip of gin. Luster came into the dull eyes.
“You’ve done your worst, Edwards,” said Hooper, “and you’ve lost out. You’re going yourself. I don’t want to torture you. I can’t save you. Do you want to carry this thing on with you—to wherever you are going—or do you want to try and square things a bit?”
The dying man lay motionless except for the slight movement of his eyes.
“I’ll tell you some things, while I last,” he said finally. His voice was low, his speech jerky but intelligent and he was evidently striving to conserve his strength.
Nor could there be doubt of his final earnestness or the truth of what he said.
“Butler. Had me—where he wanted me. Knew you had something, perhaps guano, perhaps pearls. Got me to ship with four lunas—all work for Butler. He got them jobs as lunas That schooner Seamew—not Huddersleigh’s. Belongs to Butler. Has wireless. Butler aboard her. Soon as you started engine and set straight course, I sent message. She followed. Now two hundred miles away I sent another message—today, telling what happened. I thought we’d win for sure.”
He paused for a while and they thought he had passed but he rallied again.
“I think—at first—when find out what you were after—get crew to join with my four men—take possession, send message for Sewmew to come. Crew did not join. You were too strong. I talk with Steiner and Tiburi. Tiburi to have everything in traderoom, many things from this ship. Steiner and men to take Mary L. for their share. Butler to take me and my men along—with pearls. Big money for us—pearls for Butler—and he destroy evidence against me he holds.”
“And us, if we were not killed? What of us?”
“Butler would say.”
“How did you manage to make Tiburi not afraid of the Hims?” asked Manning.
Edwards’ eyelids were, fluttering; he was at the last ebb of life. He opened his eyes again and there was the ghost of a twinkle in them as they bent to hear the whisper that was his last breath.
“Showed—him diving-suit—empty—in your cabin,” he said.
THE Mary L., her engine working again, stood north and west to meet the summoned Seamew. Edwards had not tried permanently to destroy the engine, by agreement doubtless with Steiner. He had broken ignition wires in the insulation which, once located, were easily replaced.
Behind the schooner towed the two whale-boats with Steiner and his followers. The dead had been buried at sea. Among them were Holabird and White—or Weiss—shot from the deck of the Mary L. Edwards went with them to their deep-sea graves.
At nightfall the prisoners were brought aboard and put in the forecastle, with the hatch secured. Dawn should show them the Seamew with Butler aboard, coming up for his triumph. That he had not calculated upon such a fighting termination of the trip was no excuse for his planning of it, yet it was doubtful if he could be found responsible. He was wealthy and powerful. He could easily disclaim any knowledge of the German prisoners; he could throw the blame upon Edwards and discredit what Ryder and Smith, who had received their orders direct from Edwards, might testify.
Edwards’ confession was only oral. It would not hold for much in any court. Clever lawyers could bar its admission without trouble.
But Hooper and Manning, talking these things over, were not disposed to let the matter end in such fashion. To get Butler aboard the Mary L. was the big problem. He would expect communication by wireless and none of them could operate. Edwards might have agreed upon some signal which he had failed to communicate on his death-bed. Butler would probably scrutinize closely the decks of the Mary L. when the two vessels got close, certain as he might be from Edwards’ message when the fight was on that everything had gone well for his side. Yet he would be careful.
In mid-morning they sighted the Seamew, coming up under power. The combined speed of the two vessels swiftly reduced the distance. And then Hooper displayed a signal. He had decided to take the chance that Edwards had not sent a detailed message and had not mentioned the fact that the crew had failed to join the conspiracy. At the time of sending the combined attack appeared invincible. Hooper, Manning and the sailors were cooped up on the terrace, the canoes were closing in. And Edwards had counted his chickens before the shells were fairly cracked. But Butler would be cautious.
Only three sailors showed on deck of the Mary L. One at the wheel. Her ensign was at half-mast; the signal-halyards showed this fluttering appeal—
“Send medical assistance.”
“I figure there’s no doctor aboard the Seamew,” said Hooper. “Butler will think there are badly wounded aboard. He will imagine Edwards himself hurt. And it may bring him off. It may not. If he doesn’t bite, we’ll make for Honolulu and wait his return.”
The Seamew came up, slowed down within speaking-distance. An officer appeared with a megaphone.
“What’s the trouble?” he shouted. A sailor, coached for the occasion by Hooper, who, with Thompson and Manning, stood under the hood of the companionway unseen, answered:
“Seamew ahoy! Send some one to dress wounds.”
Another figure appeared beside the first on the after deck of the Seamew. He did not turn his full face toward the Mary L. but they recognized Butler, in blue serge with the peak of his cap well down. The two consulted.
“Who’s in charge?” called the officer.
“Mr. Edwards, sir. He was badly hurt. Wants to see Mr. Butler. Think he’s dying.
There was another consulation and then, with the Mary L.’s way stopped, the two schooners drifting slowly closer, a boat put out from the Seamew and the trio on the companion ladder rejoiced.
Manning and Hooper received the astounded Butler in the after cabin, emerging from the staterooms after he was seated. The interview was short and to the point.
“I know nothing of all this,” declared Butler. “Edwards had no instructions from me. I was going to Fanning’s Island on my own business. That can be shown. I picked up a wireless message that interested me. Cruising farther south, I got another. It was evidently a part of some infernal conspiracy hatched up by you men to attempt to implicate me. You tried to get me interested in some wild scheme in Honolulu, Hooper, if you are Hooper! I didn’t fall for it and you cooked this up. Edwards was doubtless in it.”
The man’s cool effrontery was matchless. But Hooper only laughed.
“We fancied you’d deny it all, Mr. Butler. But we could put a pretty good case together, I think. Let’s talk business.”
Butler considered a moment with frowning brows.
“What is your proposition?” he asked.
“We’ve talked it over, Mr. Manning and myself. I want to make you a sleeping partner in this enterprise of ours, which was to recover the pearls of of my own schooner. We’ve got the pearls—got them all. But the schooner is a loss. And the expenses were heavy.”
“Where are your pearls?”
“As a sleeping partner, you will not awaken sufficiently to partake of the profits,” said Hooper smoothly. “We may show them to you. But we feel that you should reimburse us for the costs of this voyage and for the loss of the schooner.”
“You are a lot of pirates!” burst out Butler. “I’ll see you hanged first.”
“As you like,” said Hooper. “But, if you will give us a check for ten thousand dollars, release the bonds against the Mary L. and turn over to Mr. Manning and myself the Seamew as a testimonial of your esteem, we will consider the incident closed. We have no especial desire to be tied up in Honolulu, as you might be able to do. We are not pirates or we might maroon you. Edwards has paid the penalty. As things turned out he went farther than you intended. But—we are prepared to spend half of what we have recovered in pinning this thing to you—and we think we can do it. We have witnesses and a good deal of evidence when it is summed up. It is up to you. You may have to pay Ryder and Smith to hold their tongues. No one of us is seriously injured or we would not compound.”
There was silence in the cabin for several minutes.
“You’ll supplement that check with a note promising not to have it estopped,” said Hooper. “I am beginning to doubt whether the amount is large enough, after all. And include a bill of sale tor the Seamew.
“It’s plain blackmail,” said Butler, “but I’ll submit to it.”
“Thought you would,” answered Hooper. “Fong, bring some refreshments.”
“Piracy,” said Butler once more, later, when the deal had been completed in the cabin of the Seamew.
“Finance,” said Manning. “Never could see much difference between the two myself.”