Page:The Magic Carpet Magazine Volume 03 Number 03 (1933-07).djvu/16

 "A year ago, when I was home from the States for vacation," she answered steadily, "that man was dad's chief officer. Peterson, his name was then. Dad caught him in some crooked work. Peterson tried to kill him, and went to jail. I don't know just what the crooked work was; dad wouldn't tell me, so it must have been something pretty dirty."

"I see," observed Cleghorn, and rubbing his chin, gazed out at the horizon for a moment. "Hm! He was chief officer, Aranha was second. Now they're with Darby, in on this ginseng deal. Well, the puzzle picture gets more and more involved."

"Cap'n Joe, I want you to read dad's last letter, the one I found here awaiting me," she said abruptly. "We're not going to pull at cross purposes, you and I, and I don't want to hide anything from you."

She put an envelope in his hand. Cleghorn met her dark, confident eyes, and spoke on impulse.

"That's a bargain, then. My chief officer was murdered this morning. Don't know who did it; stabbed. Keep your mouth shut about it."

He turned from her, took the letter from its envelope, and unfolded it. The epistle was brief. After an introductory paragraph, it read:

Cleghorn looked at the girl, as he returned the letter.

"Anybody else read that?"

"Why, no—oh! You mean it's not safe to keep it around? I hadn't thought of that, but you're right. Thanks." She shredded the letter and envelope into scraps, and tossed them fluttering down the wind, then looked at him with a smile, "There! And—you understand why I didn't want to say more, at first?"

Cleghorn nodded. "Sure. Is the amount large?"

"I don't know, but I fancy it must be. Dad put aside a good deal. But tell me, what was that about your chief officer?"

Cleghorn told her, briefly. As he was concluding the account, Cap'n Darby made his appearance, and Cleghorn beckoned him.

"Morning. Just the person I wanted to see. It's about that chap Rapp, cap'n. What's his business?"

Darby looked surprized, touched his cap to the girl, and answered promptly.

"Why, he's a broker of some sort! Aranha got him into the deal, as I didn't have enough cash to put it through, and Stoutsman rather fell down on me at the last minute."

"Oh! Broker, is he? You didn't know that his name's Peterson and that he wasfirst officer under Cap'n Silva last year?"

Darby's gaze narrowed. "Eh? No, that just can't be so"

"Well, it is," broke in Marie Silva coolly. "What does it mean?"

Cleghorn was watching Darby. The latter gave the girl a quick, probing glance, and his lips compressed for an instant. He was startled, obviously.

"Miss, I don't know," he rejoined slowly. "Why he'd lie to me, I don't see. I'll have it out with him here and now"

"No," said Cleghorn, and Darby looked at him. "Wait, cap'n, wait! There's luck in leisure, as the saying goes. Who's this Stoutsman? A friend of yours?"

"He runs a saloon in Hong Kong," said Darby. "Used to be a seaman. I've