The Merry Anne 24

The Merry Anne 24

"Where, Harper?"

 

"Why, to Spencer's, where we just come from."

 

"Where's that?"

 

"Around in Lake Huron. If I had a chart here--Cap'n, ain't you got a

chart o' Lake Huron?"

 

Except for Pink's eager voice, the room was still. The four other men

sat like statues, leaning forward. As he waited for the reply, the boy

became suddenly conscious of the odd __EXPRESSION__ of their faces. He had

meant to help both Dick and himself--was he helping?

 

The thought that had already found a place in Dick's mind, the thought

that they were in the hands of a merciless agent, whose whole object was

to prove them guilty, whose own advantage, whose future perhaps, lay in

proving them guilty--and that the course to be followed was not a matter

for offhand decision, came now to him, and he faltered.

 

Captain Fargo shook his head. "No," said he, huskily, "not even of Lake

Michigan."

 

"Go on, Harper. Perhaps you can tell us. Your memory's better than

Smiley's."

 

When Beveridge spoke that last sentence, he made a mistake. Pink glanced

at Dick, and dropped his eyes. When he raised them, his lips were closed

tight, as if he were afraid to open them at all.

 

"Well, go on."

 

Pink shook his head.

 

"Don't be a fool, Harper. If you can help me get McGlory, it may make it

easier for you."

 

"But him--" Pink motioned toward Dick--"would it make it easier for

him?"

 

Beveridge shook his head. "I don't believe the Lord a'mighty could save

him."

 

"Then," said Pink, with a flash of anger, "you can go to hell for all o'

me!"

 

Beveridge sat thinking. He looked at Dick from under his eyebrows,

studying the man with shrewd eyes. With the same scrutiny, he looked at

Pink. Then he drew an envelope from his pocket and consulted a list

that had been jotted on the back; and followed this with a Milwaukee

time-table, which he studied with eye and finger. "It's now--" he looked

at his watch--"nine-twelve. We 'll make the nine-forty. Come along with

me, Smiley." Captain Fargo asked the question that Dick would not ask.

"What are you going to do with the boys, Mr. Beveridge?"

 

"We're going to Milwaukee now, on the nine-forty."

 

"To Milwaukee!"

 

"Yes. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you." Dick and Pink took their

hats and rose. Wilson stepped back to fall in at Pink's shoulder,

leaving Smiley to his superior. Suddenly Captain Fargo, after a moment

of puzzled silence, broke out with, "Wait--has anybody seen or heard of

Henry?"

 

All looked blank.

 

"Where was he seen last?" asked the Special Agent.

 

"He was here on the beach after supper. We had a little chat together.

He'd been uptown after some tobacco, and said he was going right out to

the _Schmidt_, and would be spending the night there."

 

"He hasn't been around since?"

 

"No--not here."

 

"You haven't seen him?" This was addressed to Pink. Beveridge wheeled

suddenly on him in asking it, and raised his voice with the idea of

bullying him into a reply. But Pink shook his head.

 

"They wouldn't likely have lugged him across the pier with them. He may

be on the _Schmidt_ yet. How about it, Bert?"

 

"I don't think so. I looked around the cabin. Shall I look again?"

 

"Yes. We 'll wait here. You 'll have to hurry with it. We can't stay here

more than ten minutes longer."

 

Wilson was out of the room at a bound, down the steps and across the

beach and running out on the long pier. In five minutes he was back.

 

"Well--"

 

"Not a soul there."

 

"How many men did he have aboard? Do you know, Cap'n?"

 

"Only one or two, I guess, besides Mc-Glory."

 

"They've gone along, of course. The only question is, did they take him

with 'em?"

 

"How could they?" said Wilson. "He is a strong man, and there wasn't any

sound of a scuffle. No, if there had been anything like that, I should

have heard it."

 

"I 'll tell you what I think," said Fargo. "It isn't what I think,

either; but it keeps coming up in my mind. He didn't seem quite himself

when he was talking to me."

 

"How--nervous?"

 

"Oh, no, but kind of depressed. He never says a lot, but then he isn't

generally blue like he certainly was to-night. He talked about McGlory,

too."

 

"What did he say about him?" asked Beveridge sharply.

 

"He said that McGlory and Dick had disagreed, and Dick had ordered him

off his schooner, and he had taken him in for the night. McGlory, he

said, was so ugly there was no getting on with him. He had sort of made

an errand up-town so he could get away and cool down a little. I guess

he felt so glum himself he was afraid to trust himself with a man that

acted like McGlory was acting." Beveridge was standing by the door,

ready to start, watching the Captain closely during this speech. Now

a look of intelligence came to his face. "How are Henry Smiley's

affairs--money and that sort of thing?" he asked.

 

"Oh, all right, I think. He has always been saving. He must have a neat

little pile tucked away by this time."

 

"And he wasn't married, or--" Beveridge paused.

 

"Not Henry. No, he was a woman-hater, pretty nearly."

 

"Was he pessimistic--kind of down on things? Did he have any particular

object in living--anything to work for specially?"

 

"He was pessimistic, all right. Didn't believe in much of anything. I--I

know what you're thinking, Mr. Beveridge, but I--I can't hardly think

it's possible. I don't know, though, I guess his schooner was about the

only thing he cared for, except maybe Dick here."

 

"Oh, fond of his cousin, was he?"

 

"Yes, I think you could say he was that."

 

"Had you dropped him any hint of what I told you?"

 

"Well, now you speak of it, I don't know but what maybe I did let him

see that I was a little worried about Dick."

 

Beveridge nodded. "I can't wait any longer. Come, Bert. You, I suppose,"

turning to Dick and Pink, "will come along without any trouble?"

 

"Certainly," said Dick.

 

"Good-by, Captain--and say, by the way, Captain, if I were you, I would

send right up to the life-saving station and have them set a few men to

dragging out there."

 

"Do you really believe that--"

 

Beveridge nodded. "If he is found anywhere, it will be within fifty feet

of the pier. Good-by. Come, Bert."

 

They hurried over to the railway station, Beveridge walking with

Dick, Wilson with Harper. In the minute or two that they had to wait,

Beveridge scrawled the following message, and had it put promptly on the

wire:--

 

"To Captain B. Sullivan, on board U.S. Revenue Cutter _Foote_,

Milwaukee.

 

"Am coming Milwaukee with two of our men. Third has stolen schooner and

headed Lake Huron. Will be aboard for chase about midnight. Kindly have

all ready.

 

"Wm. Beveridge.

 

"_To Operator_:--If not there, try Sheboygan, Manitowoc, Sturgeon Bay,

and Marinette,--in order named. Beveridge.

 

"RUSH!"