"Well?"
"Well!"
"Well!"
The same word, but from three different persons, and spoken in three different inflections.
"Will somebody please hit me with something hard!" murmured Jack.
"What does it mean, Merry?" asked Rattleton.
"You may search me!" exclaimed Frank, in rather expressive slang, something in which he seldom indulged, unless under great provocation.
Browning had said nothing. He was pulling steadily at his pipe, quite unaware that it had gone out.
"What do you make of Mr. Peddington Slush?" asked Jack.
"I don't know what to make of him," confessed Frank. "About the only thing of which I am sure is that he has a corker for a name. That name is enough to make any man look sad and dejected."
"What did he come here for, anyhow?" asked Rattleton.
"To find out about Raymond Bloodgood—he said."
"I know he said so, but I don't stake any talk—I mean take any stock in that. What difference does it make to him who Bloodgood is?"
"That was something he did not make clear."
"He didn't seem to make anything clear," declared Jack. "I thought for sure that he was going to throw out some hooks to drag us into that game of poker. If he had, I should have known he was sent here, and I'd kicked him out, whether you had been willing or not, Merry!"
"I'd opened the door and held it wide for you," smiled Frank.
"What do you think of him, Browning?" asked Harry.
"His way of talking made me very tired," yawned the big fellow. "He seemed to work so hard to get anything out."
"I'll allow that we have had two rather queer visitors," said the Virginian.
"And I shall take an interest in them both after this," declared Frank.
"Talk about superstitious persons, I believe he heads the list," from Jack.
"He said he was not superstitious," laughed Merry.
"But the cat worried him."
"And my twiddling my thumbs," put in Bruce.
"And this dagger pin in my scarf," said Frank.
"It's a wonder he didn't prophecy shipwreck, or something of that sort," groaned Rattleton, who had settled at full length in his berth. "If this rolling motion keeps up, I shall get so I won't care if we are wrecked."
"He must be a dandy in a good swift game of poker!" laughed Frank. "I shouldn't think he'd be able to make up his mind how to discard. He'd be a drawback to the game, or I'm much mistaken."
"It strikes me that he'd be easy fruit," said Rattleton.
"He looks like a 'sucker' himself, but sometimes it is impossible to tell about a man till after you see him play. Anyhow, these two visits were something to break the monotony of the voyage. It promised to be pretty lively at the start, but it has settled down to be rather quiet."
Bloodgood and Slush proved good food for conversation, but the boys tired of that after a while.
Diamond went out by himself, and Frank went to Tutor Maybe's room, where he spent the time till the gong sounded for supper.
"Come, Harry," said Frank, appearing in the stateroom, "aren't you ready for supper?"
Rattleton gave a groan.
"Don't talk to me about eating!" he exclaimed. "It makes me sick to think about it. Leave me—let me die in peace!"
Jack was not there, so Frank and Bruce washed up and went out together. They were nearly through eating when the Virginian came in and took his place near them at the table.
Usually the captain sat at the head of that table, but he was not there now.
"Where have you been?" asked Frank.
"Getting onto a few things," said Jack, in a peculiar way.
"Why, what's the matter with you?" asked Bruce, pausing to stare at the Southerner. "You are pale as a ghost!"
"Am I?" said Diamond, his voice sounding rather strained and unnatural.
"Sure thing. I wouldn't advise you to eat any more, and perhaps you hadn't better look at the chandeliers while they are swinging. You'll be keeping Rattleton company."
"Oh, I'm not sick—at least, not seasick," averred Jack.
"Then what ails you? I was going to prescribe ginger ale if it was the first stage of seasickness. Sometimes that will brace a person up and straighten out his stomach."
"Oh, don't talk remedies to me. I took medicine three days before I started on this voyage, and everybody I saw told me something to do to keep from being sick. I'm wearing a sheet of writing paper across my chest now."
When supper was over Jack motioned for his friends to follow him. The three went on deck and walked aft till they were quite alone.
The "Eagle" was plowing along over a deserted sea. The waves were running heavily, and night was shutting down grimly over the ocean.
"What's the matter with you, Diamond?" asked Browning. "Why have you dragged us out here? It's cold, and I'd rather go into our stateroom and take a loaf after eating so heartily. By Jove! if this keeps up, they won't have provisions enough on this boat to feed me before we get across."
"I wanted to have a little talk without," said Jack; "and I didn't care about talking in the stateroom, where I might be overheard."
"What's up, anyway?" demanded Frank, warned by the manner of the Virginian that Jack fancied he had something of importance to tell them.
"I've been investigating," said Jack.
"What?"
"Well, I found out that there is something the matter on this boat."
"Did you learn what it was?"
"I don't know that I have, but I've discovered one thing. I've learned the kind of cargo we carry."
"What is it?"
"Petroleum and powder!"
"Well, that's hot stuff when it's burning," said Merriwell, grimly.
"Rather!" grunted Browning.
"If I'd known what the old boat carried, I think I'd hesitated some about shipping on her," declared Jack. "What if she did get on fire?"
"We'd all go up in smoke," said Merriwell, with absolute coolness. "That is about the size of it."
"Well," said Jack, "I heard two of the sailors talking in a very mysterious manner. They say the 'Eagle' is hoodooed and the captain knows it. They say he has not slept any to speak of since we left New York."
"Sailors are always superstitious. They are ignorant, as a rule, and ignorance breeds superstition."
"Do you consider Mr. Slush ignorant?" asked Bruce.
"Didn't have time to size him up, but he's queer."
"I shall feel that I am over a volcano during the rest of the voyage," said Jack. "What if there was somebody on board who wished to destroy the ship?"
"It wouldn't be much of a job," grunted Browning. "A match touched to a powder keg would do the trick in a hurry."
"But he'd go up with the rest of us," said Frank.
"Unless he used a slow match," put in Jack. "These captains always have their enemies, who are desperate fellows and ready to do almost anything to injure them. The steamer might be set afire by means of a slow match, which would give the villain time enough to get away."
"I hardly think there's anybody desperate enough to do that kind of a trick, for it would be a case of suicide."
"Perhaps not. The chap who did the trick might have some plan of escaping. Then I have known men desperate enough to commit suicide if they could destroy an enemy at the same time."
"Well, it's likely all this worry about this vessel and cargo is entirely needless and foolish."
"I don't believe it," said the Virginian. "I know now that the captain has been worried. I have noticed it in his manner. He is pale and restless."
"Well, it's likely he may be rather anxious, for it's certain he cannot carry any insurance on such a cargo."
"He was not at the table to-night."
"No."
"I'd give something to be on solid ground and away from this powder mill. You know that sometimes there is such a thing as an unaccountable explosion. A heavy sea must cause motion or friction in the cargo, and friction often starts a fire on shipboard. Fire on this vessel means a quick road to glory."
"Huah!" grunted Bruce. "I'm not in the habit of worrying about things that may happen. It's cold out here. Let's go back to the stateroom."
"It will be well enough to keep still about the nature of the cargo, Diamond," said Frank.
"Oh, I shall keep still about that all right!" assured Jack.
As they moved back along the deck they discovered somebody who was leaning over the rail and making all sorts of dismal sounds and groans.
"The next time I go to Europe I'll stay at home!" moaned this individual. "Oh, my! oh, my! How bad I feel! Next that comes will be the shaps of my twos—I mean the taps of my shoes!"
"It's Rattles!" laughed Frank, softly; "and he is sicker than ever. He's tried to crawl out to get some air."
At this moment a man opened the door near Rattleton, and asked:
"Is the—ah—er—moon up yet?"
"I don't know," moaned Harry. "But it is if I swallowed it. Everything else is up, anyhow."
"If the—ah—moon comes up red tonight, it will mean——"
"I don't give a rap what it means!" snorted Rattleton. "Don't talk to me! Let me die without torturing me! I'm sick enough without having you make me worse!"
Mr. Slush, for he was the anxious inquirer about the moon, dodged back into the cabin, closing the door hesitatingly.
Then Rattleton, unaware of the proximity of his amused friends, hung over the rail and groaned again.
Frank walked up and spoke:
"I see, my dear boy, that you are heeding the Bible admonition."
"Hey?" groaned Harry. "What is it?"
"'Cast thy bread upon the waters!' You are doing it all right, all right."
"Now, don't carry this thing too far!" Rattleton tried to say in a fierce manner, but his fierceness was laughable. "The worm will turn when trodden upon."
"But the banana peel knows a trick worth two of that. Did you ever hear that touching little poem about the man who stepped on a banana peel? Never did? Why, that is too bad! You don't know what you've missed. Listen, and you shall hear it."
Then Frank solemnly declaimed:
"He walked along one summer day,As stately as a prince;He stepped upon a banana peel,And he hasn't 'banana' where since."
Rattleton gave a still more dismal groan.
"You are conspiring with the elements to hasten my death!" he said. "I can't stand many more like that."
"You should wear a sheet of writing paper across your breast, same as I do," said Diamond. "Then you won't be sick."
"I've got two sheets of writing paper across mine," declared Harry.
"You should drink a bottle of ginger ale to settle your stomach," put in Frank.
"Just drank three bottles of ginger ale, and they've turned my stomach wrong side out," gurgled the sick youth.
"You should allow yourself perfect relaxation, and not try to fight against it," from Browning.
"Oh, I haven't allowed myself anything else but perfect relaxation," came from Harry. "You all make me tired!"
Then he staggered into the cabin and disappeared on his way back to the stateroom.
Diamond and Browning followed, but Frank lingered behind.
Although he had kept the fact concealed, Merry was troubled with a strange foreboding of coming disaster. In every way he tried to overcome anything like superstition, but he remembered that, on many other occasions, he had been warned of coming trouble by just such feelings.
"I'd like to know just what is going on upon this steamer," he muttered, as he walked forward. "I feel as if something was wrong, and I shall not be satisfied till I investigate."
Frank found the chief engineer taking some air. Merry fell into conversation with the man, who was smoking and seemed quite willing to talk.
Having a pleasant and agreeable way, Frank easily led the engineer on, and it was not long before the man was quite taken with the chatty passenger.
Frank was careful not to seem inquisitive or prying, for he knew it would be easy to arouse the engineer's suspicions if there should be anything wrong on the steamer.
However, Merry was working for a privilege, and he obtained it. When he expressed a desire to go below and have a look at the engines and furnaces, the engineer invited him to come along.
They passed through a door, and then began a descent by means of iron ladders. The clanking roar of the machinery came up to them. Frank could hear and feel the throbbing heart beats of the great boat.
The engine room was quickly reached, and there the engineer showed him the massive machinery that moved with the regularity of clockwork and the grace and ease that came from great power and perfect adjustment.
All this was interesting, but Frank was anxious to go still deeper.
"Go ahead," said the engineer, showing him the way. "Down that ladder there. You'll be able to see the furnaces and the stokers at work. I don't believe you'll care to go into the stoke-hole."
Frank descended. Great heat came up to him, accompanied by a glow that shifted and changed, dying down suddenly at one moment and glaring out at the next. He could hear the ring of shovels and the clank of iron doors.
He reached an iron grating, where a fierce heat rolled up and seemed to scorch him. From that position he could look down into the stoke-hole and see the black, grimy, sweating, half-clad men at work there.
Above him, at the head of the ladder he had just descended, a pair of shining eyes glared down, but he saw them not. He had not observed a cleaner who was at work on the machinery in the engine-room, and who kept his hat pulled over his eyes till Frank departed.
The blackened stokers looked like grim demons of the fiery pit as they labored at the coal, which they were shoveling into the mouths of the greedy furnaces.
The shifting glow was caused by the opening and closing of the furnace doors, which clanged and rang.
For a moment the pit below would seem shrouded in almost Stygian darkness, save for some bar of light that gleamed out from a crack or draft, and then there would be a rattle of iron and a flare of blood-red light that came with the flinging open of a furnace door.
In the glare of light the bare-armed, dirt-grimed stokers would shovel, shovel, shovel, till it seemed a wonder that the fire was not completely deadened by so much coal.
Sometimes the doors of all the furnaces would seem open at once, and the glare and heat that came up from the place was something awful.
Merry wondered how human beings could live down there in that terrible place.
Some of the men were raking out ashes and hoisting it by means of a mechanism provided for the purpose.
Frank pitied the poor creatures who were forced to work down in that place. Yet he remembered it was not so many months since he had applied for the position of wiper in an engine round-house, obtained the job, and worked there with the grimiest and lowest employees of the railroad.
There was something fascinating in the black pit and the grimy men who labored down there in the glare and heat. Frank was so absorbed that he heard no sound, received no warning of danger.
Merry leaned out over the edge of the iron grating. Something struck on his back, he was clutched, thrust out, hurled from the grating!
It was done in a twinkling. He could not defend himself, but he made a clutch to save himself, caught something, swung in, struck against the iron ladder, and went tumbling and sliding downward.
At the moment when Frank was attacked, a glare of light had filled the pit. One of the stokers had turned his back to the gleaming mouths of the furnaces and looked upward, as if to relieve his aching eyes.
He saw everything that occurred on the grating. He saw a man slip down the ladder behind Frank and spring on his back. He saw that man hurl Frank from the grating.
The stoker uttered a shout and ran toward the foot of the ladder, expecting to find Frank laying there, severely injured or killed. He was astounded when he saw the ready-witted youth grasp the grating, swing in, strike the ladder, cling and slide.
Down Frank came with a rush, but he did not fall. He landed in the stoke-hole without being severely injured. He was on his feet in a twinkling, and up that ladder he went like a cat.
His assailant had darted up the ladder above and disappeared. Merry reached the grating from which he had been hurled, and then he ran up the other ladder.
He was soon in the engine-room.
In that room there was no excitement. The machinery was sliding and swinging in a regular manner, while the engineer sat watching its movements, talking to an assistant. Oilers and cleaners were at work.
"Where is he?" cried Frank, his voice sounding clear and distinct.
They looked at him in amazement.
"What's the matter?" asked the engineer, coming forward.
"I was attacked from behind and thrown into the stoke-hole," Merry explained. "The fellow who did it came in here."
"Thrown into the stoke-hole?"
"Yes."
"From where?"
"The grating at the foot of the first ladder."
The engineer looked doubtful.
"My dear fellow," he said, "you would have been maimed or killed. You do not seem to be harmed."
Frank realized that the engineer actually doubted his word.
"He might have fallen," said the assistant; "but it would have broken his neck."
"I tell you I was attacked from behind and thrown down!" exclaimed Frank. "I managed to get hold of the ladder and slide, so I was not killed."
The engineer looked annoyed.
"This is what comes of letting a passenger in here," he said. "It's the last time I'll do it on my own responsibility. Now if you go out and tell you were thrown into the stoke-hole, there'll be any amount of fuss over it."
"I am telling it right here," said Frank, grimly, "and I want to know who did the trick. Somebody who came from this room must have done it."
"Impossible!"
"Then where did he come from?"
The engineer and his assistant looked at each other, and the former began to swear.
"What do you think of it, Joe?" he asked.
"Think you made a mistake, Bill; but his story won't go. Nobody'll take any stock in it."
Frank was angry. It was something unusual for his word to be doubted, and he felt like expressing his feelings decidedly.
He was saved the trouble. The grimy stoker who had witnessed the struggle and the fall appeared in the door of the engine-room. He saw Frank and cried:
"Hello, you! So you're all right? Wonder you wasn't killed. You came down with a rush, young feller, but you went back just as quick."
Frank understood instantly.
"Here is a man who saw it!" he cried. "He will tell you that I am not lying."
The engineer turned to the stoker.
"How did he happen to fall?" he asked.
"He didn't fall," declared the begrimed coal heaver.
"No? What then—"
"'Nother chap jumped on his back and flung him down. It's wonderful he wasn't killed."
Frank was triumphant. He regarded the engineer and his assistant with a grim smile on his face.
"This is incredible!" exclaimed the engineer. "Who could have done such a thing?"
"Somebody who came from this room!" rang out Merry's clear voice.
"This shall be investigated!" declared the engineer. "Look around! See if you can find the man who attacked you. The only ones here are myself, Mr. Gregory, and the wipers."
"I want a look at those wipers," said Frank.
"You shall have it. Mr. Gregory and I were talking together over here all the time you were gone."
"Oh, I do not suspect you," said Merry; "but I want a good look at those wipers."
"Did you see the man who threw you into the stoke-hole?"
"No, but—"
"Then how will you know who it was if you see him?"
"Whoever did so had a reason for the act—a motive. He must have known me before. I may know him."
"Come," invited the engineer.
He called one of the wipers down from amid the sliding shafts and moving machinery. The man came unhesitatingly.
Frank took a square look at this man, who did not seek to avoid inspection.
"Never saw him before," confessed Merry.
The wiper was dismissed.
"Hackett," called the engineer.
The other wiper did not seem to hear. He pretended to be very busy, and kept at work.
"Hackett!"
He could not fail to hear that. He kept his face turned away, but answered:
"Yes, sir."
"Come here. I want you."
The wiper hesitated. Then he turned and slowly approached. His face was besmeared till scarcely a bit of natural color showed, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes. He shambled forward awkwardly, and stood in an awkward position, with his eyes cast down.
Frank looked at him closely and started. Then, in a perfectly calm manner, but with a trace of triumph in his voice, he declared:
"This is the fellow who did the job!"
"What?" cried the engineer, in astonishment.
"How do you know?" asked the engineer's assistant, incredulously.
"That's it—how do you know?" demanded the engineer. "You said you did not see the person who attacked you."
"I did not."
"Yet you say this is the man."
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I know him."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"You have seen him before?"
"I should say so, on several occasions. He is one of my bitterest enemies. This is not the first time he has tried to kill or injure me. He has made the attempt many times before. He is the only person here who would do such a thing."
"If this is true," said the engineer, grimly, "he shall pay dearly for his work!"
The assistant nodded.
"What have you to say, Hackett?" demanded the engineer.
"I say it's a lie!" growled the fellow. "I never saw this chap before he came into the engine-room. He doesn't know me, and I don't know him."
"You hear what Hackett has to say," said the engineer, turning to Frank.
"I hear what this fellow has to say, but his name is not Hackett."
"Is not?"
"No, no more than mine is Hackett."
"Then what is his name?"
"His name is Harris!" asserted Merry, "and he is a gambler and a crook. I'll guarantee that he has not been long on the 'Eagle.'"
"No; we took him on in New York scarcely two hours before we sailed. We needed a man, and he applied for any kind of a job. Found he had worked round machinery, and we took him as wiper and general assistant."
"It was not so many weeks ago that he attacked me at New Haven," said Frank. "He failed to do me harm. When he found I was going abroad he declared he would go along on the same steamer. At the time he must have thought I was going by one of the regular liners; but it is plain he followed me up pretty close and found I was going over this way. As there is no second-class passage on this boat, he decided he could not travel in the same class with me without being discovered, and he resolved to go as one of the crew, if he could get on that way. That's how he happens to be here."
"If what you say is true, it will go pretty hard with Mr. Harris. We'll have him ironed and—"
A cry of rage broke from the lips of the accused.
"There is no proof!" he snarled. "No one can swear I attacked this fellow and threw him into the stoke-hole!"
"Oh, yes!" said the stoker who had come up from below. "I saw the whole business. By the light from the furnaces, I plainly saw the man who did it, and you are the man!"
"That settles it!" declared the engineer. "You'll make the rest of the voyage in irons, Mr. Harris!"
"Then I'll give you something to iron me for!" shouted the furious young villain.
He leaped on Frank Merriwell with the fierceness of a wounded tiger.
Frank was not expecting the assault, and, for the moment, he was taken off his guard.
They were close to the moving machinery. Within four feet of them a huge plunging rod was playing up and down, moved by a steel bar that weighed many tons. Harris attempted to fling Frank beneath this bar, where he would be struck and crushed.
The villain nearly succeeded, so swift and savage was his attack.
Frank realized that the purpose of the wretch was to fling him into the machinery, and he braced himself to resist as quickly as possible.
Shouts of consternation broke from the engineer and his assistant. They sprang forward to seize Harris and help Frank.
But, before they could interfere, Frank broke the hold of his enemy, forced him back and struck him a terrible blow between the eyes felling him instantly.
Merriwell stood over Harris, his hands clenched his eyes gleaming.
"Get up!" he cried. "Get up you dog! I can't strike you when you are down, and I'd give a hundred dollars to hit you just once more!"
But Harris did not get up. He realized that his second attempt had failed, and he stood in awe of Frank's terrible fists. He looked up at those gleaming eyes, and turned away quickly, feeling a sudden great fear.
Did Frank Merriwell bear a charmed life?
Surely it seemed that way to Harris just then. For the first time, perhaps, the young rascal began to believe that it was not possible to harm the lad he hated with all the intensity of his nature.
The engineer and his assistants grabbed Harris and held him, the former swearing savagely. They dragged the fellow to his feet, but warned him to stand still.
Harris did so. For the moment, at least, he was completely cowed.
A man was sent for the captain, with instructions to tell him just what occurred. Of course the captain of the steamer was the only person who could order one of the men placed in irons.
The captain came in in a little while, and he listened in great amazement to the story of what had taken place. His face was hard and grim. He asked Frank a few questions, and then he ordered that Harris be ironed and confined in the hold.
"Mr. Merriwell," said the captain, "I am very sorry that this happened on my ship."
"It's all right, captain," said Frank. "You are in no way to blame. The fellow shipped with the intention of doing just what he did, if he found an opportunity."
"It will go hard-with him," declared the master. "He'll not get out of this without suffering the penalty."
Harris was sullen and silent. Frank spoke to him before he was led away.
"Harris," he said, "you have brought destruction on yourself. I can't say that I arm sorry for you, for, by your persistent attacks on me, you have destroyed any sympathy I might have felt. You have ruined your own life."
"No!" snarled Sport. "You are the one! You ruined me! If I go to prison for this, I'll get free again sometime, and I'll not forget you, Frank Merriwell! All the years I am behind the bars will but add to the debt I owe you. When I come forth to freedom, I'll find you if you are alive, and I'll have your life!"
Then he was marched away between two stout men, his irons clanking and rattling.
When Merry appeared in his stateroom he was greeted with a storm of questions.
"Well, what does this mean?"
"Trying to dodge us?"
"Running away?"
"Muts the whatter with you—I mean what's the matter?"
"Where have you been?"
"Stand and give an account of yourself!"
Then he told them a little story that astounded them beyond measure. He explained how he had taken a fancy to look the steamer over and had fallen in with the engineer. Then he related how he had visited the engine room and been thrown into the stoke-hole.
But when he told the name of his assailant the climax was capped.
"Harris?" gasped Rattleton, incredulously.
"Harris?" palpitated Diamond, astounded.
"Harris?" roared Browning, aroused from his lazy languidness.
"On this steamer?" they shouted in unison.
"On this steamer," nodded Frank, really enjoying the sensation he had created.
"He—he attacked you?" gurgled Rattleton, seeming to forget his recent sickness.
"He did."
"And you escaped after being thrown into the stoke-hole?" fluttered Diamond.
"I am here."
"And you didn't kill the cur on sight?" roared Browning.
"He is in the hold in irons."
"Serves him right!" was the verdict of Frank's three friends.
"Well, this is what I call a real sensation!" said the Virginian. "You certainly found something, Frank!"
"Well, that fellow has reached the end of his rope at last," said Harry, with intense satisfaction, once more stretching himself in his bunk.
"That's pretty sure," nodded Jack. "Attempted murder on the high seas is a pretty serious thing."
"He'll get pushed for it all right this time," grunted Browning, beginning to recover from his astonishment.
Then they talked the affair over, and Frank gave them his theory of Sport's presence on the steamer, which seemed plausible.
"This is something rather more interesting than the superstitious man or the Frenchman," said Diamond.
"The superstitious man was interesting at first," observed Merry; "but I've a fancy that he might prove a bore."
Then Bruce grunted:
"Say, does Fact and Reason err,And, if they both err, which the more?The man of the smallest calibreIs sure to be the greatest bore."
While they were talking, the sound of voices came from the stateroom occupied by the Frenchman. Soon it became evident that quite a little party had gathered in that room.
The boys paid no attention to the party till it came time to turn in for the night. Then they became aware that something was taking place in the adjoining room, and it was not long before they made out that it was a game of poker.
As they became quiet, they could hear the murmur of voices, and, occasionally, some person would speak distinctly, "seeing," "raising" or "calling."
Diamond began to get nervous.
"Say," he observed, "that makes me think of old times. Many a night I've spent at that."
"What's the matter with you?" said Frank. "Do you want to go in there and take a hand?"
"Well," Jack confessed, "I do feel an itching."
"I feel like getting some sleep," grunted Bruce, "and they are keeping me awake."
"Why are they playing in a stateroom, anyhow?" exclaimed Frank. "It's no place for a game of cards at night."
"That's so," agreed Rattleton, dreamily. "But you are keeping me awake by your chatter a good deal more than they are. Shut up, the whole lot of you!"
There was silence for a time, and then, with a savage exclamation, Diamond sprang out of his berth and thumped on the partition, crying:
"Come, gentlemen, it's time to go to bed! You are keeping us awake."
There was no response.
Jack went back to bed, but the murmuring continued in the next stateroom, and the rattle of chips could be heard occasionally.
"What are we going to do about it, Merriwell?" asked Jack, savagely.
"We can complain."
But making a complaint was repellent to a college youth, who was inclined to regard as a cheap fellow anybody who would do such a thing, and Diamond did not agree to that.
"Well," said Frank, "I suppose I can go in there and clean them all out."
"How?"
"At their own game," laughed Merry, muffledly.
"If anybody in this crowd tackles them that way I'll be the one," asserted the Virginian.
"Then nobody here will tackle them that way," said Frank, remembering how he had once saved Diamond from sharpers in New Haven.
Frank was a person who believed that knowledge of almost any sort was likely to prove of value to a man at some stage of his career, and he had made a practice of learning everything possible. He had studied up on the tricks of gamblers, so that he knew all about their methods of robbing their victims. Being a first-class amateur magician, his knowledge of card tricks had become of value to him in more than one instance. He felt that he would be able to hold his own against pretty clever card-sharps, but he did not care or propose to have any dealings with such men, unless forced to do so.
The boys kept still for a while. Their light was extinguished, but, up near the ceiling, a shaft of light came through the partition from the other room.
Diamond saw it. He jumped up and dragged a trunk into position by that partition. Mounted on the trunk, he applied his eye to the orifice and discovered that he could see into the Frenchman's room very nicely.
"What can you see?" grunted Browning.
"I can see everyone in there," answered Jack.
"Name them."
"The Frenchman, the Englishman, the superstitious man, and our fresh friend, Bloodgood."
"Same old crowd," murmured Frank.
"Yes, and a hot old game!" came from the youth on the trunk. "My! my! but they are whooping her up! They've got plenty to drink, and they are playing for big dust."
"Tell them to saw up till to-morrow," mumbled Bruce.
Jack did not do so, however. He remained on the trunk, watching the game, seeming greatly interested.
A big game of poker interested him any time. It was through the influence of Frank that he had been led to renounce the game, but the thirst for its excitements and delights remained with him, for he had come from a family of card-players and sportsmen.
"Come, come!" laughed Frank, after a while; "I can hear your teeth chattering, old man. Get off that trunk and turn in."
"Wait!" fluttered Jack—"wait till I see this hand played out."
In less than half a minute he cried:
"It's a skin game! I knew it was!"
"What's the lay?" asked Merry.
"That infernal Frenchman is a card-sharp!"
"I suspected as much."
"His pal is the Englishman. They are standing in together."
"Yes?"
"Sure thing. They are bleeding Bloodgood and Slush. Bloodgood thinks he's pretty sharp, and I have not much sympathy for him; but I am sorry for poor little Slush. He should have paid attention to some of his signs and omens. He knew something disastrous would happen during this voyage, and I rather think it will happen to him."
Then Diamond thumped the wall again, crying:
"Stop that business in there! Mr. Slush, you are playing cards with crooks—you are being robbed! Get out of that game as soon as you can!"
There was a sudden silence in the adjoining room, and then M. Rouen Montfort was heard to utter an exclamation in French, following which he cried:
"I see you to-morrow, saire! I make you swallow ze lie!"
"You may see me any time you like!" Diamond flung back.