The After House

It was on Friday, therefore, two days after the cargo steamer had

slid over the edge of the ocean, and left us, motionless, a painted

ship upon a painted sea, that the incident happened that completed

the demoralization of the crew.

For almost a week the lookouts had reported "All's well" in response

to the striking of the ship's bell. The hysteria, as Burns and I

dubbed it, of the white figure had died away as the men's nerves

grew less irritated. Although we had found no absolute explanation

of the marlinespike, an obvious one suggested itself. The men,

although giving up their weapons without protest, had grumbled

somewhat over being left without means of defense. It was entirely

possible, we agreed, that the marlinespike had been so disposed, as

some seaman's resort in time of need.

The cook, taking down the dinner on Friday evening, reported Mr.

Turner up and about and partly dressed. The heat was frightful.

All day we had had a following breeze, and it had been necessary to

lengthen the towing-rope, dropping the jolly-boat well behind us.

The men, saying little or nothing, dozed under their canvas; the

helmsman drooped at the wheel. Under our feet the boards sent up

simmering heat waves, and the brasses were too hot to touch.

At four o'clock Elsa Lee came on deck, and spoke to me for the

first time in several days. She started when she saw me, and no

wonder. In the frenzied caution of the day after the crimes, I

had flung every razor overboard, and the result was as villainous

a set of men as I have ever seen.

"Have you been ill again?" she asked.

I put my hand to my chin. "Not ill," I said; "merely unshaven."

"But you are pale, and your eyes are sunk in your head."

"We are very short-handed and--no one has slept much."

"Or eaten at all, I imagine," she said. "When do we get in?"

"I can hardly say. With this wind, perhaps Tuesday."

"Where?"

"Philadelphia."

"You intend to turn the yacht over to the police?"

"Yes, Miss Lee."

"Every one on it?"

"That is up to the police. They will probably not hold the women.

You will be released, I imagine, on your own recognizance."

"And--Mr. Turner?"

"He will have to take his luck with the rest of us."

She asked me no further questions, but switched at once to what had

brought her on deck.

"The cabin is unbearable," she said. "We are willing to take the

risk of opening the after companion door."

But I could not allow this, and I tried to explain my reasons. The

crew were quartered there, for one; for the other, whether they were

willing to take the risk or not, I would not open it without placing

a guard there, and we had no one to spare for the duty. I suggested

that they use the part of the deck reserved for them, where it was

fairly cool under the awning; and, after a dispute below, they agreed

to this. Turner, very weak, came up the few steps slowly, but

refused my proffered help. A little later, he called me from the

rail and offered me a cigar. The change in him was startling.