Those few minutes seemed hours. I was vitally anxious to see that close-cropped little head above the water. I stood on the deck of theSprite, with rifle in hand, ready to fire.
I was conscious that the down line slightly moved, but did not dare look too closely. The tide was bringing the Huns a little closer, and all depended upon vigilance.
I was right in expecting a rifle barrel to show over the edge of their boat. It came cautiously to view. I drew down on the spot, and the instant a hatless head was raised enough to aim at me I got it. The rifle fell back, discharging in midair. I knew that one Boche was done for. The restmight be deterred for a time, but they were bad men in desperate straits. Instantly I brought another cartridge forward. I knew I was an easy mark standing there in the open. However, there was no other attempt. They evidently had enough. I glanced at the down line. It was still moving; and I knew there was life in the sea below.
Then I saw a small hand grasp the boat's side and heard a long gasp for air. With one hand I helped her drag a heavy-bearded man aboard, to all appearance dead, then with rifle in both hands I resumed crucial watch of the Boche boat. I noticed her as she detached a heavy cord from his belt, fastening it deftly to a cleet. Spongers fasten their baskets to themselves that way. I knew the little girl, though painfully struggling for air, was working rapidly. The Boches were cowed enough for the time being. I glanced at her. She had a big cushion under her father's stomach, and was putting her whole weight on his back and chest at regular periods.
She soon seemed satisfied and placed the oxygen mask upon his face, after taking several long drafts herself, and she then continued to bear her weight upon his chest between breathing intervals. She had told me that both she and her father had been resuscitated in that way many times, and as soon as she had regained somewhat normal breathing she began murmuring words of endearment, a sort of an incantation, hypnotic in its effect.
"Daddy—Daddy, dear, can't you hear me? You are coming to now. You will be back with me in a moment. Can't you hear me?" She would lean over and speak into his inert ear, softly at first, then pleadingly.
In a moment there was an exclamation of joy that made my heart jump. It was from the child. She was almost hysterical, now that her father showed signs of regaining consciousness.
"I knew you would come back, Daddy. I am here. Don't you know me? This is little Jim. I came to get you. Daddy, you know me now, don'tyou?" she pleaded joyfully, her face lighting as victory neared, her movements quick as a sparrow. The determined fierceness of a few minutes before I could hardly comprehend.
The name, "Little Jim," gave me another distinct thrill. Somehow she had never told me her name and I had never asked. I was contented to know her as "little girl." But when she mentioned "Little Jim," evidently a pet name, as a charm to bring her father back to life, the name of Canby took on a new significance. It was as though a window in my memory flew open as I recalled that the schooner on which Howard Byng used to ship paper to New York was namedCanby, and probably was the old wreck thrown up on the coral reef just outside their little bay.
I could not tell in hours what happened in minutes then. At best I can give but a poor impression of the fierce intensity of the situation.
Suddenly a new question arose in my mind. Where did Canby get those ingots of lead or copper, wrapped in sharkskins? The fact that Bulowand Company wanted to destroy him flashed through my mind. That I had caught the Huns "with the goods" was all I could really think of then. My theory was working out. It moved me to instant action. I must get those men—the bulky man with a bandaged hand and the two others—alive. Stupendous things depended on it. Danger meant nothing to me then.
The Huns still kept out of sight, with no attempt at gunnery. I heard a deep moan in the bottom of our boat, as of one coming out of an anesthetic, augmented by the delightful endearments of the little girl.
"Oh, Daddy, I knew you would come back. Don't you know little Jim now? I am here to take care of you. Now you know me, don't you?" I glanced to see that he was on his back and she was kissing his forehead above the mask in frantic joy, a most remarkable filial demonstration.
"Is your father out of danger?" I called to her.
"Oh, yes—he is breathing the oxygen regularnow and knows me; he will be all right soon. Can I help you?" she replied joyfully. "He has been that way often. So have I, when sponging."
"I must examine that boat yonder before it sinks. I want some heavy cord."
She looked about for a moment and spied the cord she had taken from her father's belt and tied to the cleet. She unfastened it and began pulling it in, but she could raise it only part way. I took the rifle in my right hand and assisted her with my left. In a moment we brought up an ingot of copper.
"Daddy must have used this to carry the line to the bottom," said she, but I thought of the heavy rolls of sharkskin leather in the warehouse. She removed the cord and began winding it about her little hand into a hank.
"Now, little Jim, I am going to use your boat to reach that wreck. Time is important. Has your father a rifle aboard?"
"Yes," she replied exultingly. "And here it is."
"Now, I know you are a dead shot. While I start the motor and get our boat over to the wreck, keep it covered."
An anxious glance at her father reassured her. He was breathing the oxygen regularly.
"I can do that. Shall I just scare them?"
"Unless they come out with hands up, instantly shoot to kill," I replied positively.
She brought the rifle across the gunwale, resting on one knee in the cockpit, her body tense and alert. Her steadiness was inspiring. I knew then that the man I most wanted, the man with the bandaged hand, would know I was protected, for he had already tested her markmanship.
A moan came from the reviving father drinking the life-giving oxygen.
"Yes, Daddy, I will be there in a few minutes. Breathe the oxygen deep and you will be up soon," she called to him affectionately, at the same time gazing steadily along the rifle barrel trained upon the Boche boat.
"Is there another 'terror' in theTitian?"I asked as I stepped into the boat and pushed off.
"Under the stern seat," she replied, without taking her face from the gunstock.
I started the motor of the little boat, swung around and came boldly down upon the sunken bow of the Boche boat, fastened to it, and took a position just in front of the cabin. There was no sound of life inside.
I called to them to surrender and come out with hands up or I would dynamite the wreck and send them to Hell there and then.
This order started muffled voices inside, but with no apparent inclination to obey.
I repeated the order, and added, "I will give you just one minute to line up or be blown up."
This last information produced animation.
I looked back to theSprite. Little Jim's eyes were gleaming down the rifle barrel like an avenging angel. The game was big and I was after it.
The man of big girth came first, having to wriggle his way out of the tiny cabin door, and stood facing me with his hands elevated as far as his fatwould allow. Then appeared another middle-aged, medium-sized man, of a business-like appearance, who looked like a decent person caught in bad company.
"Where's the other one?" I demanded.
"He's dead," instantly replied the man with the bandaged hand.
"I want to see him," said I, far enough away to use the rifle.
"I say he is dead—inside," the fat man replied in rather a surly tone.
"Bring him out where I can see him," I demanded, not moving. "You bring him out," I added, looking at the thin man.
Frightened and craven, he let his arms down, went in the cabin. He returned soon, dragging out a body covered with blood. My shot must have hit him fair.
The thin man then took his stand beside the fat one, and elevated his hands again without an order, and both looked across at little Jim and her deadly rifle.
"Who are you?" demanded the pudgy man with the bandaged hand. "What right have you here?"
"An American citizen arresting a criminal caught in the act," I said, proceeding to put the "Yankee Bridle" on his wrists behind him.
"You needn't tie us up like slaves. We are gentlemen," he urged stoutly, but I ordered him to keep his mouth shut, which he did.
I then ordered the two men into the stern of the motor boat and applied the same "Yankee Twist" about their ankles, fastening the two of them together. The other man appeared dead.
I searched out and tossed into the motor boat everything of a private nature, including some expensive hand luggage, afraid the boat would sink.
I left the dead man on board and started with my prisoners at full speed to where I thought the engineer and cook had possibly landed in the riddled lifeboat.
I could soon see them lying on the beach. As I approached they started away.
Running into the shore as close as I could, I firedat them, and they stopped. It didn't take long to get and tie them up with the rest. Without arms, on one of the barren coral islands that compose the Tortugas, they knew they had no chance of escape.
I then returned to the wreck, taking the lifeboat in tow. Small air compartments in each end prevented the cutter sinking entirely, but it had drifted away from the anchoredSprite, on which I could see little Jim moving about. Turning my attention to the "dead" man, I found the bullet had hit him so high on his forehead it did not enter his head, but had ploughed its way under the skin, the shock causing insensibility. Drenching him with sea water soon developed signs of life, and it wasn't long before he joined the sullen crew in corded harness, his head bandaged the best I knew how.
Definitely deciding the big Hun boat would not sink, I let the anchor go, pulled the little lifeboat aboard and plugged the bullet holes, for I knew I would need it.
The Gulf sun was pretty hot and I didn't blame the Boches much when they called for drink and food.
Their cook, a flabby tool scarcely full witted, possessed a craven fear of going into the next world. I released him with a forcible injunction that his first tricky move would send him there instantly. With knocking knees and gibbering to himself, he went about feeding the others.
I saw little Jim moving around on theSprite, so concluded matters in her quarter were satisfactory.I had to go over there and I felt sure of what I would find. I hesitated, however, for it was a delicate situation. But it could be put off no longer, so I got into the little lifeboat and drew up alongside.
With a grimness of a lion playing with a cub little Jim had coaxed her black-bearded father back, and given him food and dry clothing. Though still very weak he was sitting in the bottom of the boat, leaning against the tiny cabin, evidently pleased with her wheedling and caresses. But when he got a good look at me I thought his eyes would jump from their sockets. At first there was the fierce, savage look of the enraged Georgia Cracker, which as quickly melted into a joyful delight as his memory served him.
Little Jim ran to the side of theSprite, grasped me by the hand and led me to him. "Daddy, this is Mr. Wood. If he had not come to-day what might have happened!" she exclaimed, manifestly undaunted by the dreadful experience she had undergone.
Though full bearded, with black hair like a lion's mane, there remained that wonderful aquiline nose and powerful jaw and chin of Fighting Howard Byng. From where he sat he slowly reached up a broad, generous, strong hand.
Little Jim thought the emotion he showed was in recognition of the service I had rendered him. But as our eyes met we both understood—to little Jim his name should remain Canby—sponge diver, merchant and Gulf trader.
"Little Jim, your eyes are good and so is your aim. You watch what is going on over there while I have a talk with your father." Then I explained to her that the cook was commissioned to feed them food from his hand, as their own hands were serving another purpose just then.
Without hesitation she took her rifle and sat down in the stern, letting her legs hang over—the same picture as when I first saw her sitting on the wharf waiting for the tide to uncover the bull alligator.
Howard Byng sat there devouring me with his eyes, recollections rushing through his mind. I seated myself beside him. He seemed to want me close to him.
"I was sure I would see you again, but I never pictured it this way," said he, turning his face toward me. "I would have drowned if you and little Jim hadn't come; the cannon shot put me out—it is a terrible shock under water."
"An active life has many surprises," I answered slowly.
"You've been at it all the time! I would rather be able to do what you have done to-day than to have all the money in the world. I recall what you told me the last time I saw you. That mere business—mere money would not satisfy. I could not see it then."
"You have made headway. Starting with nothing, not even a name," I said, so low that little Jim couldn't hear.
"Yes—I have done a little. First I had to work to live, and now little Jim is all I work for. I—I—supposeyou know—all about it—how it happened?"
"I don't know much about it, but I want to. Just now we both have something important on hand. I must get these men moving north as soon as possible."
"Little Jim tells me you landed them all. I wish I could have helped. I can tell you something about them. I have known it for a long time, but—but you know my position is a little peculiar. But I didn't think they would try to kill me."
"Howard, just now I want to get the Boches and the cutter into port. I think the boat's bulkheads will keep her up."
"Will she answer to the rudder?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Then I can tow her in this boat; I can pull a train of cars," he said, brightening.
"Can you? The cutter is a wreck. If you pull her in she's your salvage."
He smiled for the first time, though he still labored for breath with which to speak.
"I've been doing a little in that line for some time," he said, moving his foot toward an ingot of copper. "That's why the Bulows wanted to get me, and I guess they would have done it this time if it hadn't been for you." He spoke grimly, taking the oxygen tube and drinking deeply from it. "I'll be ready for anything in a few minutes now," said he, and with considerable effort he stood up and looked across at the wreck like an eagle ready to swoop down upon its prey.
"Where do you want to take it—Key West?"
"No—just now I would rather hide it and get the prisoners up North quickly."
"I can take it where it can't be found in a hundred years," he said, looking over his engine.
Little Jim still watched as we raised anchor to get under way. He, or rather little Jim, towed the Hun cutter. I ran theTitianand followed. I wanted Washington to get their eyes and ears full before the Boche interest heard of it. I had started something big and needed help.
Byng hid the Boche cutter in a basin amongsome small islands, and ran for his own place not far away. He tied up and was waiting for me, fully recovered, the powerful, robust man of the sea. Six men were an overload for theTitianand we couldn't keep up with theSprite.
Howard didn't pay much attention to me until they were lined up on his little wharf.
I didn't like the way he stood there, eyeing the fat man.
He would not come close, seeming to fear that he might harm the fellow if he did. He appeared to be struggling to restrain himself and succeeded pretty well. I thought it was because he saw the bandaged hand that little Jim had punctured when trying to break the lock of his warehouse.
He grew into the fierce Georgia Cracker again, whom I had seen stand up and offer to fight a whole camp of rough surveyors—but more intense if it were possible.
I started over to him and asked, "Where can I keep them until a train comes going north? One is due in about three hours."
"It don't stop here," he said, never for an instant taking his eyes off the big man with the great girth and jowl.
"It will stop for me, and before it gets here I must search each of these fellows down to the very skin."
His mind was working like a whip. Without replying he turned on his heel, went into the store and returned with a key to the warehouse.
"They were so anxious to see the warehouse, we will satisfy them now. Keep them in here," said he, unlocking and throwing open the door.
The big man was exhausted. He dropped in a greasy heap on a pile of green hides. When I cut the cords he could hardly get his arms forward. His wrists looked bad.
I began with the cook. Made him strip before me and I examined each garment critically, removing all personal effects, putting them in a package, carefully marking his name and address on it so that they would be restored. This gave me an excuse to ask a great many other questions.Each man, when searched, was carefully segregated from the unsearched.
Howard stood by eagerly looking on at the thoroughness with which I proceeded, using leather from valuable skins with apparent indifference, to tie up their effects.
The thin man proved to be the manager of all the Bulow interests in that section. He had considerable cash on his person and indignantly protested that I was high-handed in the whole procedure. It was an outrage some mighty power would avenge, he insisted vehemently. At that time the Boches actually believed that when they pulled the proper string some twenty million Germans would rise in defense of the "fatherland," but I never saw it just that way.
The fat man with the bandaged hand had revived enough to show great interest in my procedure with the manager, evidently hoping that they two, as dignitaries, were to be spared the indignity of being stripped and searched.
It took more than an hour to get to the wiltedtub of tallow. His white flannel trousers and delicately marked shirt, expensive Panama, and shoes were badly mussed by the ruthless treatment accorded him while in the boat, and also later on when he came in contact with the salted hides. Brain heat or dandruff had cleared away his front hair. He did not look at all lovely, but, having rested, was full of fight. His attitude was that of a maddened bull, his murky eyes like a pool of filthy sewage. When finally he stood stripped before us I glanced at Howard. His attitude was alarming. He looked like a lion ready to tear its prey limb from limb. I couldn't understand at first. Gradually a great light dawned in my mind—but there were things I was not supposed to know about, as yet, so I turned my gaze upon the prisoner.
"I refuse to submit to such treatment!" he hissed from between lips now repulsively purple. "You have no right to treat even common prisoners in this way—dogs—damned Yankee dogs!" he let out, sitting upright now. "I represent greatinterests. I am an officer in a large bank. You will pay dearly for this!"
Howard stood some distance away from the frothing Boche. His eyes scintillated fire of extreme hatred. His fingers clenched and he took a step toward the man, then hesitated. The situation was tense. I was afraid he might do a rash thing. At last I made reply to the fellow.
"It is my right and duty to make a prisoner safe for transportation," said I. "If you don't remove your clothing for examination I shall do it forcibly, and I don't intend to wait long, either." I spoke quietly, now watching Howard also.
Then I went at the rebellious Boche and flipped open his belt, starting, with little delicacy, to undress him. When he saw I meant business, he relented and began working at his own collar.
The manager, who had donned his clothing, came from among those examined and asked permission to speak with him.
"If you come one step nearer I will shoot you dead in your tracks," I warned. "Tricks like that won't work. He is going to do what I tell him in exactly the manner I want him to," I said, forcibly enough, taking up a rifle leaning behind me.
Howard moved in front of the manager, like the sturdy oak he was, grand, powerful, magnificent, able to cope with all of them unaided. The last hope was gone, so the undressing began over again. Piece after piece the fat Boche tossed upon the floor in front of me, in rage and unbroken spirit, affecting an air of grandeur that intimated condign punishment for those to blame for this terrible outrage on his person, and had to be prodded again for the belt he wore next to his skin.
It seemed to me that Howard would devour him with his eyes as I scrutinized his silk underwear and returned it after a careful search.
I took everything—watch, trinkets, money and wallet, returning only his clothing, the belt being retained for more deliberate examination.I have spent most of my life studying men and women, but this man's case mystified me. Dressed again, he looked a good deal of a personage, undoubtedly forceful, and a power among men. But his shrunken legs and flabbiness of muscle I could not understand, nor could I comprehend Howard's consuming interest in him. The fact of his having tried unlawfully to "break and enter" Byng's warehouse, only to get his hand bored through by little Jim, was not enough. He was a prisoner now for his morning's work. I could not resist the impression we get of certain females, not women, who, barren themselves, hate children, and kiss dogs.
Well—perhaps I did wrap his personal belongings with more care and formality than I did the others.
"What name, please?" I asked, poising my pencil.
He looked at the manager and did not answer readily.
"Forman—Charles Forman," he finally blurted.
"That's a lie!" came from Howard Byng as clear as the sound of a church bell. "His name is Ramund—a damned Prussian!"
Howard and I patched up the bow of the Bulow boat and a Government vessel came and took it away to an Atlantic port, with the five prisoners also on board. This was safer than the trip by rail and I was much relieved thereby.
I was instructed by wire to remain to note the effect and pick up additional information. I was glad as I wanted to get Howard's story and account of his doings during the last fifteen years, since I left him in New York, a rich man with enviable surroundings and prospects.
He insisted that I make my headquarters with him, placing little Jim's swiftTitianentirely at my disposal.
He was just the same likable fellow he was thelast time I stopped with him, up in Georgia. He was most attentive, and always anxious for my safety when I went away, even for a short time, but I had to wait several days before he was ready to talk.
An alien enemy custodian took charge of the Bulow affairs and marines were quickly planted on all their ships and tugs before they could be damaged. In fact everything was working well, so I was in no hurry, and awaited a convenient time for my heart-to-heart talk with Howard.
One afternoon little Jim took Don marketing in theTitianfor fruit and vegetables up on the mainland of Florida, a small matter, to her, of sixty or seventy miles. Howard busied himself tinkering about his big boat, theSprite, getting it ready for sea, myself an interested onlooker.
"Howard, are you sure you are doing the wisest thing by going on this way?" I asked as soon as I saw he was through with the job on hand.
"You mean going by the name of Canby?"
"Yes."
"Well—maybe not. You know I never took Canby as a name. They—the fishermen—just gave it to me, and for a long time it suited my purposes. I wanted to get away from everybody and everything and if I had planned it deliberately it could not have come out better. But little Jim's future bothers me. She can't stay here much longer; she has got to go to school somewhere, and she, girl-like, wants to go up North, about which I have told her so much in order to amuse her when little. What do you think?" he asked, again the simple Georgia Cracker.
"It will be pretty hard to advise you without knowing more of the circumstances," I said, dropping down on a seat in the cabin by a porthole.
He dropped his tools, came in and sat on the other side, throwing off his hat. His long black mane was turning slightly gray at the temples, but his body was sturdy and powerful.
"I never before felt as though I could talk aboutit, and don't believe I could now to anyone but you. I think it would be a relief to tell you because you have known me so long and understand so many things," he said, filling his pipe carefully and lighting up. He leaned back, crossed his legs, and looked keenly the friendship he felt for me.
"You know," he began, in wonderful self-restraint, "it takes a long time to get real, cankerous bitterness out of a man—me anyhow. I think it was you who told me that hatred, malice, and revenge were the three arch enemies of peace of mind and development. Wood, I have remembered that, and am glad I have made some progress, but I suppose I am like everybody else. I think my trouble has been the worst. I believe now that if I had followed your advice and not borrowed from the Transatlantic I could have kept my property, but I would have to go through some kind of a melting fire to be made into good steel. No doubt, the family trouble would have come in some other way." I arched my brows, appearing not to understand.
"You, of course, recall, for I know you don't forget anything, the last talk we had in the Waldorf in New York," he continued. "You advised me to sit tight and let good enough alone. That night, and for a day or two, I thought you had grown over-cautious and conservative, and had entered the class who hold up their hands and cry be careful, be cautious; but never do a damn thing for themselves. But I soon began to see that way myself, and decided to let things be as they were. Mrs. Potter took the lead against me. That name I have never pronounced since then, till now. It sounds strange to do so. It seems like recalling things to memory that might have happened when I was on earth at some former time. Mrs. Potter, as you well know, was my sister-in-law, my partner's wife, and while the family stood well socially, she had a great ambition to be at the head of the Four Hundred. She wanted to be worth millions. She not only filled Potter with it but won over her father, and with all of them against me I gave in and the deal went through.I am satisfied now the Transatlantic Trust Company plotted to acquire the property. The panic played into their hands, enabling them to call our loans, without which we could not run or pay the interest on the bonds. They took snap judgment and foreclosed as cold as a cake of ice, kicked me out, and Byng & Potter, Incorporated, was theirs. I had a card up my sleeve that would have brought them down, but this blackleg Ramund extended the robbery to my home and wrecked that, too."
Howard stopped here, filled his pipe again and looked at me appealingly, apparently waiting for me to arrive at the true significance of his quiet statement of fact.
"Ramund, Ramund, you don't mean to say——" And then, as though shot between the eyes, I recalled the same name and the peculiar cultivated inflection given it by Norma Byng some twelve years before. Now the cause of his extreme interest and agitation when we were examining the prisoners a few days before rushed upon me like Niagara. I could still hear Byng's cut—"It is alie, his name is Ramund—a damned Prussian!" It was strange I did not remember the name then, especially as both times it had been connected with a foreign banking house.
"Yes—yes," said Howard, taking his pipe down and looking out of the cabin door reflectively, "don't you think I have made some progress to be able to even talk about it now without becoming insane? I am trying to tell you of a snake that has crawled across my path twice to destroy me. You know that don't happen often. I should have killed him the first time. I would have done it had it not been for one thing. I can think of it now—but I never dared to before. I couldn't tell anyone but you, even now! You seem to support me."
He stopped, puzzled by the expression on my face as the details of my meeting with Norma Byng, his wife, years before, rushed through my mind, and the dreadful sadness with which she told me of the same occurrence. Her simple story impressed me with added force after the lapse oftime. By gesture I asked him to proceed. The fact was I could see valuable evidence for the Government, too, in the circumstances.
"As I said before," he continued slowly, "I had an opportunity and would have killed him, if he had not been secretly encouraged. I can see now I was all but insane when they not only took our properties, confiscating even my private account, leaving me without a cent, but I had to sell my household effects to live. Then Mrs. Potter started on another diabolical course. She deliberately undertook to sell my beautiful wife to the Prussian—and was making headway before I noticed it. It took me a long time to realize it and I was sure of it before I acted. I went down to Georgia to get old Don, the only man I ever entrusted with the full details of how the turpentine and rosin could be taken from a stump, bringing him back to New York with me.
"Their scheming, now in full swing, was working well. One day I was told that my wife had gone to Ramund's apartment. Desperate, I wentthere, intending to break in the door, but that was not necessary. In his cocksureness and insolent bravado he had not locked it and I entered. I heard him tell her how much more he could do for her than a bankrupt, discredited husband who could be easily removed. No protests came from my wife. Her silence was consent enough. I was as cool as I would be hunting for bob-cats. He took her in his arms, kissing her passionately. She did not resist and that was all that saved his life. I told her to go home, showed her out and locked the door." Byng buried his face in his hands for a moment, so I waited silently, until he began again.
He took her into his arms.
He took her into his arms, kissing her passionately.
"He was a full match for me physically," said he, wearily, "but my sense of injury was so burningly intense that every muscle was as though laminated with steel wire. I felt a strength that knew no bounds. Fear and prudence had departed in the presence of this home wrecker. Almost my first blow knocked him senseless, but such a punishment, even if I had killed him, seemed mean,small, dreadfully inadequate. Instantly it occurred to me that undesirables should be unable to reproduce their species. Desperately, perhaps insanely, I used skill acquired in the pine woods. In a sense I was protecting little Jim and performing a service toward the world." He looked at me appealingly, but went on with his story.
"I went home immediately," said he, "but my wife was not there. Deciding she was unfit to further care for little Jim, I gathered a few things for the use of both of us, took my child and left within an hour.
"Though desperate and irrational, a part of my mind worked with method. The first schooner I ever had, theCanby, was considered too small and worthless to be put in the mortgage. But for old time's sake I had kept her anchored in a safe place and well looked after. I got old Don, took theCanbyand started somewhere, I did not care a damn where, except I wanted to get away."
"You came south, of course," I ventured for the sake of saying something.
"Perhaps it was the attachment we all feel for our birthplace that made me steer south," he assented. "In a short time we ran into bad weather, and for what seemed an interminable time drifted with bare poles. To make sail was impossible. How we ever navigated down the coast, through the Straits, into the Gulf, I have no rational idea. All I can recall is that I took great care of little Jim and that anything else did not matter.
"One morning we fetched up here on this beach, so high that in low tide theCanbywas on dry sand. Her bones are out there now, sacred to me."
"I would imagine so," said I absently, thinking of the scoundrel Ramund.
"But I did not feel that way the morning I came ashore, carrying little Jim in my arms," he continued. "It seemed as though theCanbyhad added the last drop, the dregs of misfortune, and had deserted me. I shook my fist at it, but resolved to fight on for little Jim, old Don's faithfulness being a ray of hope.
"We first made a house tent of the sails of theCanby, which we gradually built permanent. I took to sponging to provide for little Jim, and I guess you know and can understand the rest," he finished, struggling with the emotion his whole body expressed.
The sacred solemnity of this powerful, magnificent man, baring his very soul to me, impressed me profoundly. We remained silent until I could control my voice. Finally I asked:
"Howard, have you heard anything from the North since you came here?"
"No—not a word. I have not met a soul I ever saw before until you came. For years I didn't want to. And then a desire to see some one consumed me. You may think it strange but I was too big a coward—a downright coward. Somehow I always thought you would find me. I knew you went to the ends of the earth and sea, and that you would eventually come. That's why I didn't seem surprised the other day when I recognized you. When little Jim told me there was a salesman to sell me goods I never suspected, but Ishould have known you would not come with a brass band," he replied, greatly relieved at having unloaded a burden he had carried for fifteen years.
Rehashed departmental reports become mere braggadocio when the human interest is lacking.
I had written perhaps one of the most vital chapters in American history. So far as the department is concerned it will remain unsung. My reward is in knowing I did it.
Its direct results were the taking over of ships, needed more than money, and the appointment of a custodian of alien enemy property to confiscate hundreds of millions of dollars' worth, expelling the Hun and his kin from our frontiers and our industrial life for all time. Though Howard was well past want, I felt for him. I suspected he was even affluent again—you can't keep such a man from making money, even on the barren Keys. Ifelt sorry for his wife, Norma Byng. Little Jim had wound herself about me as had her wonderful father who sat silently in the cabin of his boat looking wistfully at me. Maybe it was because he made me her godfather and called her little Jim I felt that the child was partly mine.
Howard, scourged into bitterness, was possessed with an inflexible conviction that his beautiful wife had betrayed him. I had to be extremely careful. I must wait for him to see the light as though from within himself. Assuming a more cheerful attitude again, I asked:
"Howard, have you heard absolutely nothing of what has been going on outside? I mean about your private matters."
"No more than if I was on another planet until now, when this man appeared in my life again," he replied emphatically, "and you came as I knew you would. And—and—well, you can see how I am fixed. How can I tell little Jim my name is not Canby? How can I explain to her that the fishermen named me Canby after the wreckedschooner, and I let it go at that because I was practically insane for several years. You can see how much she is to me now. I have been mother and father to her since she was a year old. We are so near one, it makes me a coward, I tell you."
"Life has certain responsibilities, Howard, we can't escape; perhaps you have arrived at another turning point that calls for the big part of you."
"Maybe so—maybe so—I can see now that you will need me as a witness against these men. Our country is involved. I guess I must come out, at least part way, from my isolation for that reason, even if it kills. It's no time to slack against our Government," he said, more as an audible thought, giving me my cue.
"Howard, you are right, your old English ancestors have never shirked when their country needed them. They fought in the Revolution, they battled with Indians and Mexicans, in the sixties they grappled with their consciences, then later they went after Spain like tigers, and now old Georgia is sending its best blood in hordes againstthe Hun with a whoop and yell that cannot be mistaken. Even if they do like to moonshine a little they fight for their country and that is the last and best test."
His eyes glittered with a new kind of fire. I knew I had him.
"Have—have you been up the river—I mean where the plant is—where we got the moonshiners that time?" I could see all that grew out of that incident now flashed through his mind at the mention of moonshiners.
"No—but I have inquired several times. The land is raising cotton but the paper mill is not running. I believe they have made no headway with the stumps. All in all, it's not doing very well."
"Thought so," he replied, intensely gratified, "I could feel it," he added, "and what has become of those that were my people?" he asked with effort.
"I haven't had much information for seven or eight years, except this man Ramund turning up.Potter went back to clerking in a bank. His wife has soured on the world in general and taken on acid fat. The old folks died."
"And——?" His pipe was laid aside and he held himself viselike and looked the vital question.
"She is estranged from her sister and living quietly."
"Did you—have you seen her yourself?" he asked coldly.
"Yes, a long time ago, she was still beautiful, making her own living, but, Howard, I believe—I know she is a good woman." I decided I could not tell more then.
The effect of this information was magical. Though his eyes took on the fire of the fierce Georgia Cracker, I believe he was ashamed of it. He arose and walked out on deck and looked over the Gulf. It was about time for little Jim and Don to return. Finally he returned and sat down. He was learning to conquer himself.
"Wood—am I doing anything wrong—am I violatingany law in robbing that wreck?" he surprised me by abruptly changing the subject.
"You mean where you have been getting those copper bars?" I asked, somewhat amused as the subject had never been referred to directly.
"Yes."
"No; on the other hand, you are doing a patriotic duty. If a wreck floats, Uncle Sam is interested, but at the bottom, getting is keeping. But, Howard, that is something of which I want some details. I have been waiting for you to tell me. It's mighty important in this case."
"I know it is. That's why I asked. The sunken submarine explains mostly why Bulow and Company want to get rid of me. You see, I had been a thorn to them for some time, for I had been taking the spongers' trade. They have been loading vessels ever since the war with such material as copper, cotton, and rubber. When they could not fool the British by shipping through the Netherlands, they sent cargo subs. They advertised one coming to a northern port, but thatwas just to cover more extensive operations down here. Bulow and Company picked up the stuff from all the Gulf ports. One was about loaded out there by the Tortugas. Word was received that a Yankee destroyer was coming, so she submerged to lay on the bottom until it left. But the destroyer was attracted to the spot by the gulls waiting for possible food, and let go two or three depth bombs, for luck. The sub never came up. I located her in twelve fathoms of water. You know, a dive without a suit lasts only four or five minutes, and it was a hard job to get her open, but I did finally, and have been taking copper from her ever since. The whole thing is there yet, dead sailors and all.
"When Bulow and Company learned that I knew of the wreck and suspected I was salvaging that settled it. I had dangerous knowledge. They wanted the wreck themselves. If I can get all that's in her I'll be worth more money than I can ever use; even a small ship loaded with copper and rubber has an immense value. Now doyou understand why they decided to sink me without trace? I never told little Jim just what I was doing because I partly promised her I would not dive any more, since the shark bit me on the leg and she saved me; and, again, little Jim is so innocent and frank, as I want her to be, I was afraid she might let it out."
"And you thought Bulow and Company was too strong for you, so you never gave the Government information?"
"Yes, they have been powerful enough to keep me from getting goods except in a roundabout way and at high prices, and have run everything else down here to suit themselves. They felt they owned everything, and, as you see, became very bold. How could I, without even a name, beat them except by strategy? I wanted the copper and other things I could salvage, so kept as quiet as possible.
"When little Jim told me about a salesman from a New York house being here I was glad, and told her to buy, but I never fell for your stunt, thoughI often thought of you. I believed as formerly Bulow and Company would prevent the shipment even for cash in advance, they are clever at managing such details as that. I understand they have the Government's wireless and telegraph code besides their own men inside that service."
"But you got the goods I sold you?"
"Yes, every item. Little Jim says the prices were much better. And, more, the railroad did something they never did before—they stopped the freight and unloaded them right at the back door." Howard laughed outright for the first time. "How could I tell who it was? But, as I said, I might have suspected something like that from you."
"Howard, is this sunken submarine intact?"
"Yes, entirely so as far as I can see. The crew seems to have died suddenly. There are two openings in her—one at the conning tower, that lets you into the engine room and crew's quarters, and a small hatch, more of a manhole, pretty wellforward, which opens into the freight hole, evidently a separate compartment as it had not filled. The great water pressure held it shut. I finally got in. There is wonderful value there. I don't wonder the Huns want it. Once in the crew's quarters was enough. It has filled and is not a very pleasant place to go. I am used to about everything in the water when sponging, except dead men."
"How many of the crew are there?"
"Well—I counted about twenty, but there may be more, and if you saw them you would not think they were dead. One man stands up with his eyes open in a listening attitude, the wireless man is before his instruments, and the rest sit about perfectly natural. It seems as if the captain knew they were done for and turned on gas or something that killed them instantly."
"Howard, we can get those bodies, can't we?"
"Yes, if we go there fixed for it, but it won't be such a delightful job. I shut it so the sharks wouldn't enter."
"I must have every one of them, and every piece of paper in her, the cargo don't interest me with the exception of a few samples."
While I was willing and eager for Howard to benefit to the limit on the salvage there were certain things I must have if they could be found.
"Howard," said I, "did you find the captain's strong box? There must have been some money left if his cargo was incomplete."
"Yes—I got one box. There may be more, but, as I said, I can stay under only four or five minutes, which is not long to hunt, and dead Huns sitting around as if they were going to speak to you do not make a very pleasant audience, but I locked it down and she is just as clean as when sunk and the water is pretty cold there."
"What was in the captain's chest?"
"Well—considerable money. I have all the papers and will give them to you."
"Howard, why do you never use a diver's suit when you go sponging? Others use them."
"Yes, I know they do, but I have always worked alone. That is, little Jim and I. In fact, I would not trust anyone to pump air to me but her and she is not strong enough. However, I would trust you and I can get an outfit to go down for what you want, and maybe we can find a way to get the stuff up faster."
"I have got to have every scrap of evidence in that wreck. If in getting that I can help anyway I will be glad. You must bear in mind we have to be speedy. This man, Ramund, and his crowd being sent North as prisoners will start something. It's a fair bet that they have influence enough to be admitted to bail, the bank with which he is connected furnishing that in almost any sum. They will try to protect this valuable cargo laying down there and prevent us getting the evidence it will yield. And the Huns will be well prepared when they come this time."
Howard meditatively arose and walked outon the deck, but he returned again eagerly.
"This is the off-season for sponging. I believe I can charter a brand-new schooner of four or five hundred tons.Anti-Kaiseris her name. She has a new and complete diving outfit, besides pumps and everything for raising spongers who get sunk; she has been coming here for supplies."
"How soon can you know?"
"To-night or to-morrow morning."
"That's settled then; get her as soon as possible. I will see what I can do about getting a gun or two to mount on her, and a gunner. Bulow and Company are not going to lay down so easy."
"I know where theAnti-Kaiseris anchored and we will go there as soon as little Jim comes back," he replied, as only Howard Byng could, eager and unlimbered, and ready for big game.
"There she is now—I thought it was time," he added, hearing her laughter as theTitianrounded the point into the little harbor and came up tothe wharf beside us. Little Jim was sitting as a queen surrounded with her marketing—pineapples, bananas, oranges, potatoes and all sorts of vegetables, and an immense armful of orange blossoms and flowers.
"How would New Yorkers like to go seventy-five or a hundred miles to market?" he asked, as we walked out on the pier to see the inspiring picture.
I did not have time to answer before she came bounding toward her father and at one spring landed in his arms with her bare legs about his waist and arms about his neck kissing him joyously.
"Daddy, did you think I was gone too long? We came back just as soon as we could, but it took so long to get all the things. You were not uneasy, Daddy?" she asked, kissing him several times again.
"No, Jim; when you are with Don I know you are safe, but Mr. Wood and I have an errand to do after supper and we want to get away as soon as possible. Run with Don and see what you cando quickly," he replied, returning her caresses before letting her down.
"Right away, Daddy," she replied, scampering toward the house, Howard following her with his eyes until she disappeared, her knickerbockers and her short blouse reminding me of the boy I had thought her to be.
"Somehow I wish she were not here to know what we will be doing," he said, turning to me with a long breath, almost a sigh, fingering his short, black beard.
I turned and faced him, deciding that right now was the proper time for little Jim to realize her dreams. I wondered if they could stand the separation.
"This might be a longer job than you think, especially if we were to strike some continued bad weather on the Gulf."
"I know that," he replied thoughtfully.
"The expense ceases to be a factor—why is now not the time to begin with her education?" I asked bluntly.
He searched me for a moment as if it was an insulting proposal. I knew he felt it as a distinct shock.
"Wood, I have never allowed myself to think of that time. I am cowardly, I suppose, and then I don't know where to send her, yet. I don't believe she would know how to behave in girl's clothes. She has always dressed as she does now and never has craved the flub-dubs and finery of other girls."
"So much more reason you should not let her go on longer in this way. It is time now for her to come into her education and the refinements of young womanhood."
"Yes, I know you are right, but have I got the courage? I hate to see her go at all, especially without a name. It's a fearful thing, Wood. And into that country that first treated me so well and then turned it to dead-sea fruit. Nothing but ashes inside, bitter, scalding ashes."
"The world, that world, has not finished with you. Perhaps it will yet pronounce you great.You have done pretty well toward retrieving yourself. Bitter thoughts projected into the world are as substantial things as poisoned arrows, dum-dum bullets or atrocities, and may eventually return to plague us. If you can still improve in that direction I predict big things for you. Do you understand me, Howard?"
"Wood, I comprehend;—a short time ago I would not. But the difference between theory and actual practice is great. You give me an awful big order."
"I know it is, but you have already begun to fill it without coaching. Make a mighty effort—such an effort as only Howard Byng can make and the ashes of this dead-sea fruit that you have been eating in pretty good quantities, will turn into a tonic to spur you on to more wonderful things—a magnificent life. I admit it is not a small thing to let little Jim leave you now, but it strikes me it is a real test. Are you going to let the bigness of Howard Byng come to the front?"
"I know you are right," said he, walking, with head down, down along the pier toward his valuable warehouse, "maybe I just need someone like you to prod and goad it into me, to put a rowel into my selfishness and make me wake up, but—but, you see, I don't know yet where and how to send her. I have always thought of taking her myself, but there's no time for that now."
"Are you willing to be guided by me in the matter?"
"Wood, you know I would rather take advice from you than from any other living person. And why shouldn't I? You always set me right. You started me right, but I got away from you, into a great deal of trouble. Anything you are willing to sayyou know, I will take at one hundred per cent. In fact, I would be mighty glad if you could tell me where to send her, but I don't know if I can stand it now," he added.
"I believe I do know just where to send her, and also just how to get her there safely, perhaps more so than if you went as you have planned.And I will take the time to tell you how I happened to know from personal contact. Let us go back in the boat and sit down again."
He followed me into the cabin and sat down opposite where I could study his face.
"Howard," I began seriously, "in order to make this plain to you I must give you some inside information that has not reached the public, and perhaps it never will officially, and for that reason treat it as ultra-confidential.
"When Germany began war on Europe it has been said and known positively that it was only a question of time when we would be in it, and that no preparation was made to meet that condition. But a great deal of work was done that has not begun to show yet. It is true that public sentiment would not support raising an army and equipping it, owing to such Hun stuff as 'I Did Not Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier,' but other things perhaps as important were accomplished. One of them was to determine just how much power the Hun had in this country. The beginningwas made in schools of all kinds, colleges and universities, in fact, every institution of an educational nature.
"I put in the best part of two years analyzing teachers and professors tainted with Prussianism, whether it was imported or domestic. It was a rare experience and required careful work. Directly or indirectly, I came in contact with all of them, and in many cases visited the schools and colleges, interviewing professors and teachers under one subterfuge or another, and in doing so developed some valuable and astounding information. It will require a big basket to hold the heads that must fall from this work. If I had them sufficiently at ease and could get them to use the words Kamerad, Kultur, and Middle Europe, by their face and tone I could tell. No one can repeat those words without giving themselves away, if pro-Hun.
"Girls' schools were the hardest to get into without revealing my purpose, which was always desirable. A man knocking at their gates was abig interrogation point, but I managed to see about all of them. Girls of to-day are mothers of to-morrow, and after all it's the mothers that count, Howard.
"I am telling you this," I went on, "expecting you to grasp the inference, in order to avoid going into details. I found a girls' school, perhaps two hours from New York, which is an ideal place for little Jim. The conditions are the best. She would be really educated, and be as safe as though at home and possibly more so, just now when she is advancing toward womanhood." I paused, watching Howard closely.
"But, Wood," he replied, with great concern, "little Jim has always been so free, wouldn't it be wrong to shut her up in a place like that? What would she do without her flowers and being able to go about as she pleased?"
"They have immense grounds, covered with a beautiful forest, in which she would be delighted. She can roam at will after school hours. Of course, students can't leave the grounds, or ratherthe estate, without escort. There are flowers in greatest profusion, everything to make the place attractive. It is the safest and best I found among all that I visited. In fact, I went back once or twice on a special invitation to do a small favor."
"But, Wood, she is not ready; she has no clothes; and how can she be sent there alone?" he asked, as though frightened even at a serious discussion of the matter.
"Well"—I hesitated, a little excited myself at the prospect—"I think that can be arranged. She could be put aboard the steamer at Key West, in charge of someone. I will also have one of our men, a friend, meet the boat in New York, and see personally that she reaches the school absolutely safe and protected every moment, better than you could do it yourself. My friend in New York will actually see her inside the gate and make it known that someone else is interested in her besides her parent and that will count for a good deal."
"You make it very plausible, and—well—let mesleep over it, and hear what she says about it in the morning," he replied, as we saw her come bounding down the pier like a rubber ball to tell us supper was ready.