CHAPTER IV
PIRACY
BY DUSK the trim little brigantine was scudding away toward
the west before a wind that could not have suited her better
had it been made to order at the special behest of the devil
himself to speed his minions upon their devil's work.
All hands were in the best of humor. The crew had
forgotten their recent rancor at not having been permitted
shore leave at Honolulu in the expectancy of adventure in the
near future, for there was that in the atmosphere of the
Halfmoon which proclaimed louder than words the proximity
of excitement, and the goal toward which they had been
sailing since they left San Francisco.
Skipper Simms and Divine were elated at the luck which
had brought them to Honolulu in the nick of time, and at the
success of Theriere's mission at that port. They had figured
upon a week at least there before the second officer of the
Halfmoon could ingratiate himself sufficiently into the
goodwill of the Hardings to learn their plans, and now they were
congratulating themselves upon their acumen in selecting so fit
an agent as the Frenchman for the work he had handled so
expeditiously and so well.
Ward was pleased that he had not been forced to prolong
the galling masquerade of valet to his inferior officer. He was
hopeful, too, that coming events would bring to the fore an
opportunity to satisfy the vengeance he had inwardly sworn
against the sailor who had so roughly manhandled him a few
weeks past--Theriere had not been in error in his estimate of
his fellow-officer.
Billy Byrne, the arduous labor of making sail over for the
time, was devoting his energies to the task of piecing out from
what Theriere had told him and what he had overheard
outside the skipper's cabin some sort of explanation of the
work ahead.
As he pondered Theriere's proposition he saw the wisdom
of it. It would give those interested a larger amount of the
booty for their share. Another feature of it was that it was
underhanded and that appealed strongly to the mucker. Now,
if he could but devise some scheme for double-crossing Theriere
the pleasure and profit of the adventure would be tripled.
It was this proposition that was occupying his attention
when he caught sight of "Bony" Sawyer and "Red" Sanders
emerging from the forecastle. Billy Byrne hailed them.
When the mucker had explained the possibilities of profit
that were to be had by entering the conspiracy aimed at
Simms and Ward the two seamen were enthusiastically for it.
"Bony" Sawyer suggested that the black cook, Blanco, was
about the only other member of the crew upon whom they
could depend, and at Byrne's request "Bony" promised to
enlist the cooperation of the giant Ethiopian.
From early morning of the second day out of Honolulu
keen eyes scanned the eastern horizon through powerful glasses,
until about two bells of the afternoon watch a slight
smudge became visible about two points north of east. Immediately
the course of the Halfmoon was altered so that she
bore almost directly north by west in an effort to come safely
into the course of the steamer which was seen rising rapidly
above the horizon.
The new course of the brigantine was held as long as it
seemed reasonably safe without danger of being sighted under
full sail by the oncoming vessel, then her head was brought
into the wind, and one by one her sails were lowered and
furled, as the keen eyes of Second Officer Theriere announced
that there was no question but that the white hull in the
distance was that of the steam pleasure yacht Lotus.
Upon the deck of the unsuspecting vessel a merry party
laughed and chatted in happy ignorance of the plotters in
their path. It was nearly half an hour after the Halfmoon had
come to rest, drifting idly under bare poles, that the lookout
upon the Lotus sighted her.
"Sailin' vessel lyin' to, west half south," he shouted, "flyin'
distress signals."
In an instant guests and crew had hurried to points of
vantage where they might obtain unobstructed view of the
stranger, and take advantage of this break in the monotony of
a long sea voyage.
Anthony Harding was on the bridge with the captain, and
both men had leveled their glasses upon the distant ship.
"Can you make her out?" asked the owner.
"She's a brigantine," replied the officer, "and all that I can
make out from here would indicate that everything was shipshape
about her. Her canvas is neatly furled, and she is
evidently well manned, for I can see a number of figures
above deck apparently engaged in watching us. I'll alter our
course and speak to her--we'll see what's wrong, and give
her a hand if we can."
"That's right," replied Harding; "do anything you can for
them."
A moment later he joined his daughter and their guests to
report the meager information he had.
"How exciting," exclaimed Barbara Harding. "Of course it's
not a real shipwreck, but maybe it's the next thing to it. The
poor souls may have been drifting about here in the center of
the Pacific without food or water for goodness knows how
many weeks, and now just think how they must be lifting
their voices in thanks to God for his infinite mercy in guiding
us to them."
"If they've been drifting for any considerable number of
weeks without food or water," hazarded Billy Mallory, "about
the only things they'll need'll be what we didn't have the
foresight to bring along--an undertaker and a preacher."
"Don't be horrid, Billy," returned Miss Harding. "You
know perfectly well that I didn't mean weeks--I meant days;
and anyway they'll be grateful to us for what we can do for
them. I can scarcely wait to hear their story."
Billy Mallory was inspecting the stranger through Mr.
Harding's glass. Suddenly he gave an exclamation of dismay.
"By George!" he cried. "It is serious after all. That ship's
afire. Look, Mr. Harding," and he passed the glass over to his
host.
And sure enough, as the owner of the Lotus found the
brigantine again in the center of his lens he saw a thin column
of black smoke rising amidships; but what he did not see was
Mr. Ward upon the opposite side of the Halfmoon's cabin
superintending the burning by the black cook of a bundle of
oily rags in an iron boiler.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Harding. "This is terrible. The
poor devils are panic-stricken. Look at 'em making for the
boats!" and with that he dashed back to the bridge to confer
with his captain.
"Yes," said that officer, "I noticed the smoke about the
same time you did--funny it wasn't apparent before. I've
already signaled full speed ahead, and I've instructed Mr.
Foster to have the boats in readiness to lower away if we find
that they're short of boats on the brigantine.
"What I can't understand," he added after a moment's
silence, "is why they didn't show any signs of excitement
about that fire until we came within easy sight of them--it
looks funny."
"Well, we'll know in a few minutes more," returned Mr.
Harding. "The chances are that the fire is just a recent
addition to their predicament, whatever it may be, and that
they have only just discovered it themselves."
"Then it can't have gained enough headway," insisted the
captain, "to cause them any such immediate terror as would
be indicated by the haste with which the whole ship's crew is
tumbling into those boats; but as you say, sir, we'll have their
story out of them in a few minutes now, so it's idle speculating
beforehand."
The officers and men of the Halfmoon, in so far as those
on board the Lotus could guess, had all entered the boats at
last, and were pulling frantically away from their own ship
toward the rapidly nearing yacht; but what they did not guess
and could not know was that Mr. Divine paced nervously to
and fro in his cabin, while Second Officer Theriere tended the
smoking rags that Ward and Blanco had resigned to him that
they might take their places in the boats.
Theriere had been greatly disgusted with the turn events
had taken for he had determined upon a line of action that he
felt sure would prove highly remunerative to himself. It had
been nothing less than a bold resolve to call Blanco, Byrne,
"Bony," and "Red" to his side the moment Simms and Ward
revealed the true purpose of their ruse to those on board the
Lotus, and with his henchmen take sides with the men of the
yacht against his former companions.
As he had explained it to Billy Byrne the idea was to
permit Mr. Harding to believe that Theriere and his companions
had been duped by Skipper Simms--that they had had
no idea of the work that they were to be called upon to
perform until the last moment and that then they had done
the only thing they could to protect the passengers and crew
of the Lotus.
"And then," Theriere had concluded, "when they think we
are a band of heroes, and the best friends they have on earth
we'll just naturally be in a position to grab the whole lot of
them, and collect ransoms on ten or fifteen instead of just
one."
"Bully!" exclaimed the mucker. "You sure got some bean,
mate."
As a matter of fact Theriere had had no intention of
carrying the matter as far as he had intimated to Billy except
as a last resort. He had been mightily smitten by the face and
fortune of Barbara Harding and had seen in the trend of
events a possible opportunity of so deeply obligating her
father and herself that when he paid court to her she might
fall a willing victim to his wiles. In this case he would be
obliged to risk nothing, and could make away with his accomplices
by explaining to Mr. Harding that he had been compelled to
concoct this other scheme to obtain their assistance
against Simms and Ward; then they could throw the three
into irons and all would be lovely; but now that fool Ward
had upset the whole thing by hitting upon this asinine fire
hoax as an excuse for boarding the Lotus in force, and had
further dampened Theriere's pet scheme by suggesting to Skipper
Simms the danger of Theriere being recognized as they
were boarding the Lotus and bringing suspicion upon them all
immediately.
They all knew that a pleasure yacht like the Lotus was well
supplied with small arms, and that at the first intimation of
danger there would be plenty of men aboard to repel assault,
and, in all probability, with entire success.
That there were excellent grounds for Theriere's belief that
he could win Barbara Harding's hand with such a flying start
as his daring plan would have assured him may not be
questioned, for the man was cultivated, polished and, in a
sinister way, good-looking. The title that he had borne upon
the occasion of his visit to the yacht, was, all unknown to his
accomplices, his by right of birth, so that there was nothing
other than a long-dead scandal in the French Navy that might
have proved a bar to an affiance such as he dreamed of. And
now to be thwarted at the last moment! It was unendurable.
That pig of a Ward had sealed his own death warrant, of that
Theriere was convinced.
The boats were now quite close to the yacht, which had
slowed down almost to a dead stop. In answer to the query
of the Lotus' captain Skipper Simms was explaining their
trouble.
"I'm Captain Jones," he shouted, "of the brigantine
Clarinda, Frisco to Yokohama with dynamite. We disabled our
rudder yesterday, an' this afternoon fire started in the hold.
It's makin' headway fast now, an'll reach the dynamite most
any time. You'd better take us aboard, an' get away from
here as quick as you can. 'Tain't safe nowhere within five
hun'erd fathom of her."
"You'd better make haste, Captain, hadn't you?" suggested
Mr. Harding.
"I don't like the looks of things, sir," replied that officer.
"She ain't flyin' any dynamite flag, an' if she was an' had a
hold full there wouldn't be any particular danger to us, an'
anyone that has ever shipped dynamite would know it, or
ought to. It's not fire that detonates dynamite, it's concussion.
No sir, Mr. Harding, there's something queer here--I don't
like the looks of it. Why just take a good look at the faces of
those men. Did you ever see such an ugly-looking pack of
unhung murderers in your life, sir?"
"I must admit that they're not an overly prepossessing
crowd, Norris," replied Mr. Harding. "But it's not always
either fair or safe to judge strangers entirely by appearances.
I'm afraid that there's nothing else for it in the name of
common humanity than to take them aboard, Norris. I'm sure
your fears are entirely groundless."
"Then it's your orders, sir, to take them aboard?" asked
Captain Norris.
"Yes, Captain, I think you'd better," said Mr. Harding.
"Very good, sir," replied the officer, turning to give the
necessary commands.
The officers and men of the Halfmoon swarmed up the sides
of the Lotus, dark-visaged, fierce, and forbidding.
"Reminds me of a boarding party of pirates," remarked
Billy Mallory, as he watched Blanco, the last to throw a leg
over the rail, reach the deck.
"They're not very pretty, are they?" murmured Barbara
Harding, instinctively shrinking closer to her companion.
"'Pretty' scarcely describes them, Barbara," said Billy; "and
do you know that somehow I am having difficulty in imagining
them on their knees giving up thanks to the Lord for their
rescue--that was your recent idea of 'em, you will recall."
"If you have purposely set yourself the task of being more
than ordinarily disagreeable today, Billy," said Barbara sweetly,
"I'm sure it will please you to know that you are succeeding."
"I'm glad I'm successful at something then," laughed the
man. "I've certainly been unsuccessful enough in another
matter."
"What, for example?" asked Barbara, innocently.
"Why in trying to make myself so agreeable heretofore that
you'd finally consent to say 'yes' for a change."
"Now you are going to make it all the worse by being
stupid," cried the girl petulantly. "Why can't you be nice, as
you used to be before you got this silly notion into your
head?"
"I don't think it's a silly notion to be head over heels in
love with the sweetest girl on earth," cried Billy.
"Hush! Someone will hear you."
"I don't care if they do. I'd like to advertise it to the whole
world. I'm proud of the fact that I love you; and you don't
care enough about it to realize how really hard I'm hit--why
I'd die for you, Barbara, and welcome the chance; why--My
God! What's that?"
"O Billy! What are those men doing?" cried the girl.
"They're shooting. They're shooting at papa! Quick, Billy! Do
something. For heaven's sake do something."
On the deck below them the "rescued" crew of the "Clarinda"
had surrounded Mr. Harding, Captain Norris, and most
of the crew of the Lotus, flashing quick-drawn revolvers from
beneath shirts and coats, and firing at two of the yacht's men
who showed fight.
"Keep quiet," commanded Skipper Simms, "an' there won't
none of you get hurted."
"What do you want of us?" cried Mr. Harding. "If it's
money, take what you can find aboard us, and go on your
way. No one will hinder you."
Skipper Simms paid no attention to him. His eyes swept
aloft to the upper deck. There he saw a wide-eyed girl and a
man looking down upon them. He wondered if she was the
one they sought. There were other women aboard. He could
see them, huddled frightened behind Harding and Norris.
Some of them were young and beautiful; but there was
something about the girl above him that assured him she
could be none other than Barbara Harding. To discover the
truth Simms resorted to a ruse, for he knew that were he to
ask Harding outright if the girl were his daughter the chances
were more than even that the old man would suspect something
of the nature of their visit and deny her identity.
"Who is that woman you have on board here?" he cried in
an accusing tone of voice. "That's what we're a-here to find
out."
"Why she's my daughter, man!" blurted Harding. "Who did
you--"
"Thanks," said Skipper Simms, with a self-satisfied grin.
"That's what I wanted to be sure of. Hey, you, Byrne!
You're nearest the companionway--fetch the girl."
At the command the mucker turned and leaped up the
stairway to the upper deck. Billy Mallory had overheard the
conversation below and Simms' command to Byrne. Disengaging
himself from Barbara Harding who in her terror had
clutched his arm, he ran forward to the head of the stairway.
The men of the Lotus looked on in mute and helpless rage.
All were covered by the guns of the boarding party--the still
forms of two of their companions bearing eloquent witness to
the slenderness of provocation necessary to tighten the trigger
fingers of the beasts standing guard over them.
Billy Byrne never hesitated in his rush for the upper deck.
The sight of the man awaiting him above but whetted his
appetite for battle. The trim flannels, the white shoes, the natty
cap, were to the mucker as sufficient cause for justifiable
homicide as is an orange ribbon in certain portions of the
West Side of Chicago on St. Patrick's Day. As were "Remember
the Alamo," and "Remember the Maine" to the fighting
men of the days that they were live things so were the habiliments
of gentility to Billy Byrne at all times.
Billy Mallory was an older man than the mucker--twenty-four
perhaps--and fully as large. For four years he had
played right guard on a great eastern team, and for three he
had pulled stroke upon the crew. During the two years since
his graduation he had prided himself upon the maintenance of
the physical supremacy that had made the name of Mallory
famous in collegiate athletics; but in one vital essential he was
hopelessly handicapped in combat with such as Billy Byrne,
for Mallory was a gentleman.
As the mucker rushed upward toward him Mallory had all
the advantage of position and preparedness, and had he done
what Billy Byrne would have done under like circumstances
he would have planted a kick in the midst of the mucker's
facial beauties with all the power and weight and energy at his
command; but Billy Mallory could no more have perpetrated
a cowardly trick such as this than he could have struck a
woman.
Instead, he waited, and as the mucker came on an even
footing with him Mallory swung a vicious right for the man's
jaw. Byrne ducked beneath the blow, came up inside Mallory's
guard, and struck him three times with trip-hammer
velocity and pile-driver effectiveness--once upon the jaw and
twice--below the belt!
The girl, clinging to the rail, riveted by the paralysis of
fright, saw her champion stagger back and half crumple to the
deck. Then she saw him make a brave and desperate rally, as,
though torn with agony, he lurched forward in an endeavor
to clinch with the brute before him. Again the mucker struck
his victim--quick choppy hooks that rocked Mallory's head
from side to side, and again the brutal blow below the belt;
but with the tenacity of a bulldog the man fought for a hold
upon his foe, and at last, notwithstanding Byrne's best efforts,
he succeeded in closing with the mucker and dragging him to
the deck.
Here the two men rolled and tumbled, Byrne biting, gouging,
and kicking while Mallory devoted all of his fast-waning
strength to an effort to close his fingers upon the throat of his
antagonist. But the terrible punishment which the mucker had
inflicted upon him overcame him at last, and as Byrne felt the
man's efforts weakening he partially disengaged himself and
raising himself upon one arm dealt his now almost unconscious
enemy a half-dozen frightful blows upon the face.
With a shriek Barbara Harding turned from the awful sight
as Billy Mallory's bloody and swollen eyes rolled up and set,
while the mucker threw the inert form roughly from him.
Quick to the girl's memory sprang Mallory's recent declaration,
which she had thought at the time but the empty, and
vainglorious boasting of the man in love--"Why I'd die for
you, Barbara, and welcome the chance!"
"Poor boy! How soon, and how terribly has the chance
come!" moaned the girl.
Then a rough hand fell upon her arm.
"Here, youse," a coarse voice yelled in her ear. "Come out
o' de trance," and at the same time she was jerked roughly
toward the companionway.
Instinctively the girl held back, and then the mucker, true to
his training, true to himself, gave her arm a sudden twist that
wrenched a scream of agony from her white lips.
"Den come along," growled Billy Byrne, "an' quit dis
monkey business, or I'll sure twist yer flipper clean off'n yeh."
With an oath, Anthony Harding sprang forward to protect
his daughter; but the butt of Ward's pistol brought him
unconscious to the deck.
"Go easy there, Byrne," shouted Skipper Simms; "there
ain't no call to injure the hussy--a corpse won't be worth
nothing to us."
In mute terror the girl now permitted herself to be led to
the deck below. Quickly she was lowered into a waiting boat.
Then Skipper Simms ordered Ward to search the yacht and
remove all firearms, after which he was to engage himself to
navigate the vessel with her own crew under armed guard of
half a dozen of the Halfmoon's cutthroats.
These things attended to, Skipper Simms with the balance
of his own crew and six of the crew of the Lotus to take the
places upon the brigantine of those left as a prize crew aboard
the yacht returned with the girl to the Halfmoon.
The sailing vessel's sails were soon hoisted and trimmed,
and in half an hour, followed by the Lotus, she was scudding
briskly southward. For forty-eight hours this course was held
until Simms felt assured that they were well out of the lane of
regular trans-Pacific traffic.
During this time Barbara Harding had been kept below,
locked in a small, untidy cabin. She had seen no one other
than a great Negro who brought her meals to her three times
daily--meals that she returned scarcely touched.
Now the Halfmoon was brought up into the wind where
she lay with flapping canvas while Skipper Simms returned to
the Lotus with the six men of the yacht's crew that he had
brought aboard the brigantine with him two days before, and
as many more of his own men.
Once aboard the Lotus the men were put to work with
those already on the yacht. The boat's rudder was unshipped
and dropped into the ocean; her fires were put out; her
engines were attacked with sledges until they were little better
than so much junk, and to make the slender chances of
pursuit that remained to her entirely nil every ounce of coal
upon her was shoveled into the Pacific. Her extra masts and
spare sails followed the way of the coal and the rudder, so
that when Skipper Simms and First Officer Ward left her with
their own men that had been aboard her she was little better
than a drifting derelict.
From her cabin window Barbara Harding had witnessed
the wanton wrecking of her father's yacht, and when it was
over and the crew of the brigantine had returned to their own
ship she presently felt the movement of the vessel as it got
under way, and soon the Lotus dropped to the stern and
beyond the range of her tiny port. With a moan of hopelessness
and terror the girl sank prostrate across the hard berth
that spanned one end of her prison cell.
How long she lay there she did not know, but finally she
was aroused by the opening of her cabin door. As she sprang
to her feet ready to defend herself against what she felt might
easily be some new form of danger her eyes went wide in
astonishment as they rested on the face of the man who stood
framed in the doorway of her cabin.
"You?" she cried.
