Part 26 (1/2)
”That ain't the worst of it! _They may know what we're after._ If they do, we're goners. Ever occur to you, Rainey, that Tamada, who is a deep one, may have tipped off the whole thing to his consul while the schooner was at San Francisco? He was along the last trip. He'd know the approximate position. Might have got the right figgers out o' the log, him havin' the run of the cabin. A cable would do the rest. He'd git his whack out of it, with the order of the Golden Chrysanthemum or some jig-arig to boot, an' git even with the way he feels to'ard our outfit for'ard, that ain't bin none too sweet to him.”
The suggestion held a foundation of conviction for Rainey. He had thought of the consul. He had always sensed depths in Tamada's reserve, he remembered bits of his talk, the ”certain circ.u.mstances” that he had mentioned. It looked plausible. Lund rose.
”I'll fix Tamada,” he said. But the girl stopped him.
”You don't _know_ that's true. Tamada has been wonderful--to me. What do you intend to do with him?”
”I'll make up my mind between here and the galley,” said Lund grimly.
”This is my third time of tackling this island, an' no j.a.p is goin' to stand between me an' the gold, this trip. Why, even if he ain't blown on us, he'll give the whole thing away. If he didn't want to they'd make him come through if they laid their eyes on him. They've got more tricks than a Chinese mandarin to make a man talk. Stands to reason he'll tell 'em. If he can talk when they git here,” he added ominously, standing half-way between the table and the door to the corridor, his hand opening and closing suggestively. ”The crew'd settle his hash if I didn't. They ain't fools. They know what's ahead of 'em in j.a.pan. You, Rainey, git busy with that log. That gunboat'll have a boat alongside this floe inside of ninety minnits.”
But Peggy Simms was between him and the door.
”You shan't do it,” she said, her eyes hard as flints, if Lund's were like steel. ”You don't know what he was to me when--when dad was buried.
Call him in and let him talk for himself or--or _I'll tell the j.a.panese myself what we have come for!_”
Lund stood staring at her, his face hard, his beard thrust out like a bush with the jut of his jaw. Still she faced him, resolute, barely up to his shoulder, slim, defiant. Gradually his features crinkled into a grin.
”I believe you would,” he said at last. ”An' I'd hate to fix you the way I would Tamada. But, mind you, if I don't git a definite promise out of him that rings true, I'll have to stow him somewheres, where they won't find him. An' that won't be on board s.h.i.+p.”
The girl's face softened.
”You said you played fair,” she said with a sigh of relief. She stepped to the door, opened it, and called for Tamada. The j.a.panese appeared almost instantly. Lund closed the door behind him and locked it.
”You know there's a patrol comin' up, Tamada?” he asked. ”A j.a.p patrol?”
”Yes.”
”What do you intend tellin' 'em if they come on board?”
”Nothing, if I can help it. I think I can. I am not friendly with j.a.panese government. It would be bad for me if they find me. One time I belong Progressive Party in j.a.pan. I make much talk. Too much. The government say I am too progressive.”
Rainey imagined he caught a glint of humor in Tamada's eyes as he made his clipped syllables.
”So, I leave my country. Suppose I go on steamer I think that government they stop me. I think even in California they may make trouble, if they find me. So I go in _sampan_. Sometimes j.a.panese cross to California in _sampan_.”
”That's right,” said Rainey. He had handled more than one story of j.a.panese crews landing on some desolate portion of the coast to avoid immigration laws and steamer fares. Generally they were rounded up after their perilous, daring crossing of the Pacific. Tamada's story held the elements of truth. Even Lund nodded in reserved affirmation.
”Also I s.h.i.+p on _Karluk_ as cook because of perhaps trouble if some one know me in San Francisco. I think much better if they do not see me. I have a plan. Also I want my share of gold. Suppose that gunboat find me, find out about gold, they will not give me reward. You do not know j.a.panese. They will put me in prison. It will be suggest to me, because I am of _daimio_ blood”--Tamada drew himself up slightly as he claimed his n.o.bility--”that I make _hari-kari_. That I do not wish. I am Progressive. I much rather cook on board _Karluk_ and get my share of gold.”
Lund surveyed him moodily, half convinced. The girl was all eager approval.
”What is your plan, Tamada?”
”We're losin' time on that log,” cut in Lund. ”Git busy, Rainey. Look among Carlsen's stuff. He may have kept one. Dope up one of 'em, an'
burn the other. Now then, Tamada, dope out yore scheme; it's got to be a good one.”
Both Lund and the girl were laughing when Rainey came out into the main cabin again with the records. Tamada had disappeared.
”He's some fox,” said Lund. ”Miss Peggy, you better superintend the theatricals. It's got to be done right. Rainey, not to interrupt you, what do you know about enteric fever?”
”Nothing.”