Chapter X · CLARK PICKS UP A PRICKLY PEAR.

Monckton sat with Clark aft on the quarter-deck, almost in the same place as he had sat when Carewe ran amuck. "Wang Li took the death of the Kid easier than I expected," Monckton said. "I explained to him that the Kid did not show Kentuck any credentials and that I had attended to Kentuck. He questioned the number of men that we were losing, though.

"What he wants is this. There are two men coming in for some special work, and he wants me personally to see that they arrive safely. We are to take them off a boat that will bring them up to Mazatlan and then slip up the coast to the Umpqua River, one hundred and fifty miles north of Cape Blanco. He says that he will be there in person to receive them."

Clark whistled. "Way up in Oregon! Must be something hot, to require all that care and bring the big chief out. These birds must be important. Thought you didn't like to have the yacht mix in."

"I don't, especially now with that stuff on board which I told you of. There has been a delay in passing it along. Carewe was to attend to it, and I don't like to pick up the strings he had out.

"I'm not sure of the people anyway. He seemed to be, and I knew that he could take care of himself. They really are a damn nuisance, Clark. Hard to get and harder to get rid of unless one wants to take less than they're worth.

"Well, I told Wang Li I would attend to it. I don't want to lose out with them; the connection is valuable in more ways than one."

"If they meet us offshore up there it will be easy," said Clark. "We can outrun anything Uncle Sam has got. When are we to pick them up?"

"To-morrow night. We'll pull anchor in the morning and laze down. I think I'll land Captain Davis and let him go to a hospital in Mazatlan. He has absolutely unbelted, hasn't he?"

"Pretty bad, I'm afraid," answered Clark. "He comes off one drunk to slide into another, and that means he's done."

"He was a good man, too. Many times he has helped out very much. Well, Clark, we'll make this delivery for Wang Li and then go into executive session about the stones."

"Right." Clark rose. "I'm going to send my Jap on shore for some of those pears, if we are pulling out in the morning."

Monckton laughed. "You seem to have fallen for them awfully hard. Why not send a steward?"

"They wouldn't give him the kind I want," said Clark. "My boy knows just where to go by now."

Monckton laughed again and waved his hand, as if to say "Help yourself," and Clark went below. Not many minutes later Mrs. Monckton came aft and sat down beside Monckton.

"Hello, old dear," he said with a smile. "You are just in time to join me. What will you have?"

"Nothing, at the moment," she replied curtly.

Monckton looked at her. "Ridin' hard?" he drawled.

He did not love her, and she knew it. He lived with her as he had with other beautiful women in all parts of the world. He acted like a gentleman always, but he did not love her, nor did she love him. She was with him for the material things that his wealth could afford, and in turn she knew he counted her as one of them.

"No, not especially." Her cold blue eyes were intent on his handsome face. "Are you taking this man Clark in with you?"

"Yes. Case of necessity, old thing, since Carewe found out that Langdon was cutting him out with you. I am rather short-handed at the moment. You caused me to lose two good men, my dear."

She ignored the taunt.

"He reported he had killed Kentuck?" she asked.

"Yes," answered Monckton, showing a little surprise. "Why?"

"Did he do it?" she said shortly. "It was the first time I ever saw you take a man's word for a thing like that and not do any checking up."

"Perhaps I should have," admitted Monckton. "You don't think that crack I got on the head has made me feeble-minded, do you?"

She colored a little at his tone.

"No; but I think you are not showing your usual carefulness. What's his Jap going on shore for, at this place?"

"See what suspicion does," chided Monckton. "For some prickly pears that Clark likes. Simple, isn't it, when you know."

"Very," she said, "especially since he came on board yesterday afternoon with almost half a cutter full."

The smile left Monckton's face as if wiped off by a hand. He looked over at the shore and began to whistle softly an old Irish love song. Suddenly he broke it off.

"Thanks, old lady; I'll attend to it. Will you go below and get to McGuire without Clark seeing you? Tell him to report to me and to bring Mareno with him. Then go and get Clark, and tell him I told you to show him the jewels. That's what he's after. Take him to the stateroom and show them to him."

"What?" she interrupted.

"Follow through, dear, like a good girl now, and do just what I say. Show them to him, put them back, then later go back and get them and carry them on you until I take them. Do you follow me? I will arrange to have the Jap covered. He hasn't left yet?"

"No. I heard Clark tell him to go about six o'clock."

"That's all right, then. Keep Clark occupied for an hour or as long as you can. I'll have the starboard side cleared so that McGuire and Mareno can ease over. We'll see what kind of prickly pears he gets. It may be a mare's nest, but best be sure."

That night about nine o'clock Monckton sent for Clark.

"The boson just reported to me that two more men are missing, Clark," he said curtly. "A seaman named McGuire and a steward named Mareno. This jumping ship has got to be stopped. Better send a cutter on shore and have those two drinking places combed out. Has your Jap got back, by the way?"

"No," said Clark. "He's overdue. That's the trouble with these waters—too easy to get amusement any place they hit the shore. I'll skin my boy when he does show. I'll take the cutter in myself."

"No need," yawned Monckton. "Send Larson or Sivertson. I want some one to sit and drink with me. Beastly thing, to sit and drink alone. Sit down, Clark, and tell me some of your adventures on the seven seas."

Perhaps two hours later the cutter came back, bringing the highly befuddled McGuire and Mareno, who were singing Irish and Italian songs at the top of their voices. They brought along the body of Clark's Jap. The face was bruised and discolored and the doctor reported that the man's body, on examination, showed that he had been brutally beaten.

McGuire and Mareno, under quiet, deadly cross-examination by Clark, maintained as best they could in their drunken condition that they had stumbled over the corpse not far from the path leading to one of the pulperias. They had hoisted it on their shoulders and carried it to the beach, where they had met the cutter crew.

Clark had ordered the body into the sick bay and had stood by as the doctor stripped it. The Jap's pockets contained little, and there was no half envelope among the contents of his clothing.

Clark went on deck, his cold, crafty brain searching and twisting through the labyrinth of doubt and suspicion the bringing of his boy's dead body had opened up. Was Kentuck double crossing him? Or had his man delivered the message and stumbled into a fight on the way back? Could Monckton have learned—No; he dismissed the thought; it was impossible. Yet, how had McGuire and Mareno got on shore? Clark knew they were Monckton's gunmen. Their story was air-tight. Should he go through as planned?

He laughed recklessly and went below to his own room. When he came out he had a .45 Colt under his left armpit, as well as his automatic in his hip pocket. He had decided to go through and beach the yacht. If Kentuck didn't show as planned, Clark would shoot his way to the jewels, get them, and take his chances of getting away ashore. He figured on the confusion that would follow the grounding, and although he knew that Monckton and several more would be prompt to combat any such action, he would rely on their being sufficiently scattered out for him to shoot his way clear. If a double cross showed, then it was on the knees of the nine Red Gods—let the best man have the stuff.

McGuire was reporting to Monckton, in a little room off the library that was absolutely sound-proof and could be entered only through Monckton's suite. Mrs. Monckton sat in their living room reading a novel.

"We gits to shore," reported McGuire, who had miraculously sobered, "and we follys him. He goes up to a place on a hill back a ways. We tags along, me and the wop. There's a lot of dead Spigs lying in the yard, and wan dead white man, nawthin' else. The Jap he goes up and looks at the white man, lets out a screech that would wake the dead and away he goes, me and the wop after him. We catch up wid him soon, and we gits him to tell us all about it—after a little persuadin'."

"A little persuading," echoed Monckton, with a smile. "The doctor told me that the body showed more than a little—er—persuasion."

"That come after, most of it," replied the gunman. "Well, he told us that Mr. Clark had sent him with half an envelope—the wan ye have ferninst ye there on the table—to a man named Kentuck. That was the white man lyin' dead in the yard. His message was: 'To-night.' Whin he saw this Kentuck was dead he squawked and ran—that's all he knew. The beatin' he got was when he tried wan of them jewy-jitsoo tricks of his to get away from us. Me havin' him by the scruff of the neck at the time."

"All right, McGuire. There is one grand to your credit and to Mareno's also. Keep as close to Clark as you can, either of you, without attracting his attention. That's all. And pass the word that I want to see him, in about twenty minutes."

Mrs. Monckton came in as McGuire went out. "Well?"

"You were right," Monckton said. "He did not attend to Kentuck, but brought him down here. He and Kentuck had something ribbed up—to take place to-night. Kentuck got into a fight and was killed. His bringing Kentuck down looks to me as if they had planned an attack from shore."

"Either that or he figured on getting the jewels, and Kentuck was waiting to pick him up and help him get away."

Monckton laughed. "Well, forewarned is forearmed, old girl. I need him until after I make this delivery to Wang Li. But I have the deck, old dear; I think I can run rings around Mr. Clark. A little while after he comes in you drop in and ask that we put to open waters for the night. Complain a little of heat. If I ordered it done without a little preliminary play, he might think our wind was up. I don't rely much on Davis, and Clark knows these northern waters."

Clark was with Monckton when Mrs. Monckton came languidly in and suggested that they put to sea for the night on account of the heat. Monckton readily agreed, and laughingly stopped Clark from going on deck; he said that Larson wanted a chance to "strut his stuff," and he wanted Clark to stay with him, boasting that he would drink Clark under the table.

Clark sat there, a smile on his tight lips, and heard the anchor come on the bow, the screw begin to turn. He knew that his present chance had slipped by him. He had sensed that he was being watched and that in some way the coils were tightening around him. But to his reckless, chilled-steel, fearless heart it was all a huge joke. If the gods so willed, he would win clear with the jewels; if not, he wouldn't. Monckton and his paid killers and his cold-eyed woman, who was out to get him, Clark—none of them could do a thing but play the parts the gods decided they should. Clark was a paid killer, he thought grimly, but this time he was working for himself.