Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net.
_"Clay Had Lost Control of His Limbs"_]
THE SECRET OF THE REEF
By HAROLD BINDLOSS
AUTHOR OF "Thurston of Orchard Valley," "By Right of Purchase," "Masters of the Wheatlands," Etc.
_With Frontispiece in Color_
A. L. BURT COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
_Published by Arrangement With Frederick A. Stokes Co._
_Copyright, 1914, by_ _Frederick A. Stokes Company_
_All rights reserved_
CONTENTS
- CHAPTER I--DISMISSED
- CHAPTER II--A NEW VENTURE
- CHAPTER III--THE FURY OF THE SEA
- CHAPTER IV--THE ISLAND
- CHAPTER V--AN INTERRUPTION
- CHAPTER VI--BLOWN OFF
- CHAPTER VII--GRUBSTAKED
- CHAPTER VIII--PUZZLING QUESTIONS
- CHAPTER IX--THE MINE AT SNOWY CREEK
- CHAPTER X--THE WRECK OF THE _KANAWHA_
- CHAPTER XI--FATHER AND SON
- CHAPTER XII--READY FOR THE FRAY
- CHAPTER XIII--THE REPULSE
- CHAPTER XIV--FIGHTING FOR A LIFE
- CHAPTER XV--ILLUMINATION
- CHAPTER XVI--A GHOST OF THE PAST
- CHAPTER XVII--THE STRONG-ROOM
- CHAPTER XVIII--BOGUS GOLD
- CHAPTER XIX--A DANGEROUS SECRET
- CHAPTER XX--HOUNDED
- CHAPTER XXI--JIMMY'S EMBARRASSMENT
- CHAPTER XXII--A WARNING
- CHAPTER XXIII--THE FIRST ATTACK
- CHAPTER XXIV--THE GIRL IN THE BOAT
- CHAPTER XXV--PAYING A DEBT
- CHAPTER XXVI--AN UNEXPECTED DELAY
- CHAPTER XXVII--ON THE BEACH
- CHAPTER XXVIII--A TRUCE
- CHAPTER XXIX--THE HIDDEN GOLD
- CHAPTER XXX--THE LAST OF THE WRECK
- CHAPTER XXXI--A GIFT FROM THE DEAD
- CHAPTER XXXII--THE BARRIERS GO DOWN
THE SECRET OF THE REEF
CHAPTER I--DISMISSED
The big liner's smoke streamed straight astern, staining the soft blueof the sky, as, throbbing gently to her engines' stroke, she clove herway through the smooth heave of the North Pacific. Foam blazed withphosphorescent flame beneath her lofty bows and, streaking with greenand gold scintillations the long line of hull that gleamed ivory-whitein the light of a half moon, boiled up again in fiery splendor in thewake of the twin screws. Mastheads and tall yellow funnels raked acrossthe sky with a measured swing, the long deck slanted gently, itsspotless whiteness darkened by the dew, and the draught the boat madestruck faint harmonies like the tinkle of elfin harps from wire shroudand guy. Now they rose clearly; now they were lost in the roar of theparted swell.
A glow of electric light streamed out from the saloon-companion and thesmoking-room; the skylights of the saloon were open, and when the notesof a piano drifted aft with a girl's voice, Jimmy Farquhar, second mate,standing dressed in trim white uniform beneath a swung-up boat, smiledat the refrain of the old love song. He was in an unusuallyimpressionable mood; and he felt that there was some danger of hislosing his head as his eyes rested admiringly on his companion, forthere was a seductive glamour in the blue and silver splendor of thenight.
Ruth Osborne leaned on the steamer's rail, looking forward, with themoonlight on her face. She was young and delicately pretty, with aslender figure, and the warm coloring that often indicates anenthusiastic temperament. In the daylight her hair had ruddy gleams inits warm brown, and her eyes a curious golden scintillation; but now itarched in a dusky mass above the pallid oval of her face, and her lookwas thoughtful.
She had fallen into the habit of meeting Jimmy when he was not on watch;and the mate felt flattered by her frank preference for his society, forhe suspected that several of the passengers envied him, and that MissOsborne was a lady of importance at home. It was understood that she wasthe only daughter of the American merchant who had taken the two bestdeck rooms, which perhaps accounted for the somewhat imperious way shehad. Miss Osborne did what she liked, and made it seem right; and it wasobvious that she liked to talk to Jimmy.
"It has been a delightful trip," she said.
"Yes," agreed Jimmy; "the finest I recollect. I wanted you to have asmooth-water voyage, and I am glad you enjoyed it."
"That was nice of you," she smiled. "I could hardly help enjoying it.She's a comfortable boat, and everybody has been pleasant. I supposewe'll see Vancouver Island late to-morrow?"
"It will be dark when we pick up the lights, but we'll be in Victoriaearly the next morning. I think you leave us there?"
The girl was silent for a few moments, and in her expression there was ahint of regret that stirred Jimmy's blood. They had seen a good deal ofeach other during the voyage; and it was painful to the man to realizethat in all probability their acquaintance must soon come to an end; buthe ventured to think that his companion shared his feelings to someextent.
"In a way, I'm sorry we're so nearly home," Ruth said frankly; andadded, smiling, "I'm beginning to find out that I love the sea."
Jimmy noted the explanation. He was a handsome young Englishman ofunassuming disposition, and by no means a fortune-hunter, but he hadbeen bantered by the other mates, and he knew that it was not analtogether unusual thing for a wealthy young lady to fall in love with asteamboat officer during a long, fine-weather run. Miss Osborne,however, had shown only a friendly liking for him; and, as he would seeno more of her after the next day, he must not make a fool of himself atthe last moment.
"The sea's not always like this," he replied. "It can be very cruel; andall ships aren't mailboats."
"I suppose not. You mean that life is harder in the others?"
Jimmy laughed. He had been a _Conway_ boy, but soon after he finishedhis schooling on the famous old vessel the death of a guardian deprivedhim of the help and influence he had been brought up to expect. As aresult of this, he had been apprenticed to a firm of parsimoniousowners, and began his career in a badly found and undermanned ironsailing ship. On board her he had borne hunger and wet and cold, and wasoften worked to the point of exhaustion. Pride kept him from deserting,and he had come out of the four years' struggle very hard and lean, tobegin almost as stern a fight in steam cargo-tramps. Then, by a strokeof unexpected luck, he met an invalid merchant on one of the vessels,and the man recommended him to the directors of a mail company. Afterthis, things became easier for Jimmy. He made progress, and, after whathe had borne, he found his present circumstances almost luxuriouslyeasy.
"Steam is improving matters," he said; "but there are still trades inwhich mates and seamen are called upon to stand all that flesh and bloodcan endure."
"And you have known something of this?"
"All I want to know."
"Do tell me about it," Ruth urged. "I am curious."
Jimmy laughed.
"Well, on my first trip round Cape Horn we left the Mersey undermannedand lost three of our crew before we were abreast of the Falkland Isles;two of them were hurled from the royal yard through the breaking ofrotten gear. That made a big difference, and we had vile weather: galesdead ahead, snow, and bitter cold. The galley fire was washed out halfthe time, the deckhouse we lived in was flooded continually; for weekswe hadn't a rag of dry clothes, and very seldom a plateful of warm food.It was a merciful relie
f when the gale freshened, and she lay hove to,with the icy seas bursting over her weather bow while we slept like logsin our soaking bunks; but that wasn't often. With each shift or fall ofwind we crawled out on the yards, wet and frozen to the bone, to shakethe hard canvas loose, and, as it generally happened, were sent aloft inan hour to furl it tight again. Each time it was a short-handed fightfor life to master the thrashing sail. Our hands cracked open, and thecuts would not heal; stores were spoiled by the water that washed overeverything, and some days we starved on a wet biscuit or two; but thedemand for brutal effort never slackened. We were worn very thin when wesquared away for the north with the first fair wind."
"Ah!" exclaimed Ruth. "It must have been a grim experience. Didn't itdaunt you, and make you hate the sea?"
"I hated the ship, her skipper, and her owners, and most of all thesmart managing clerk who had worked out to the last penny how cheaplyshe could be run; but that was a different thing. The sea has a spellthat grips you, and never lets go again."
"Yes," said Ruth; "I have felt that, though I have seen it only in fineweather and from a liner's saloon deck." She mused for a few momentsbefore she went on. "It will be a long time before I forget this voyage,steaming home over the sunlit water, with the wind behind us and thesmoke going straight up, the decks warm, everything bright andglittering, and the glimmer of the moon and the sea-fire about the hullat night."
There was an opening here for an assurance that the voyage would liveeven longer in his memory; but Jimmy let it pass. He feared that hemight say too much if he gave the rein to sentiment.
"Were you not charmed with Japan?" he asked.
Ruth acquiesced in the change of topic, and her eyes sparkledenthusiastically.
"Oh, yes! It was the time of the cherry-blossom, and the country seemeda fairyland, quainter, stranger, and prettier than anything I had everdreamed of!"
"Still, you must have seen many interesting places."
"No," she said with a trace of graveness. "I don't even know very muchabout my own country."
"All the Americans I have met seemed fond of traveling."
"The richer ones are," she answered frankly. "But until quite lately Ithink we were poor. It was during the Klondyke rush that my father firstbecame prosperous, and for a number of years I never saw him. When mymother died I was sent to a small, old-fashioned, New England town,where some elderly relatives took care of me. They were good people, butvery narrow, and all I heard and saw was commonplace and provincial.Then I went to a very strict and exclusive school and stayed there muchlonger than other girls." Ruth paused and smiled. "When at last I joinedmy father I felt as if I had suddenly awakened in a different world. Ihad the same feeling when I saw Japan."
"After all, you will be glad to get home."
"Yes," she said slowly; "but there's a regret. We have been very happysince we left; my father has been light-hearted, and I have had him tomyself. At home he often has an anxious look, and is always occupied. Ihave some friends and many acquaintances, but now and then I feellonely."
Jimmy pondered, watching her with appreciative eyes. She was frank, butnot with foolish simplicity; quite unspoiled by good fortune; and hadnothing of the coquette about her. Indeed, he wondered whether sherealized her attractiveness, or if the indifference she had shown toadmiration were due to pride. He did not know much about young women,but he thought that she was proud and of strong character.
"You must come to see us if you are ever near Tacoma," Ruth saidcordially.
Jimmy thanked her, and soon afterward left her, to keep his watch on thebridge. As they were still out of sight of land he had no companionexcept the quartermaster at the wheel in the glass-fronted pilot-house.There was no sail or smoke trail in all the wide expanse his high viewpoint commanded. Rolling lazily to port and starboard, the big boatcleft a lonely sea that was steeped in dusky blue save where a broadbelt of moonlight touched it with glittering silver. The voices andlaughter gradually died away from the decks below, the glow of light waslessening, and the throb of the screws and the roar of flung-off watergrew louder. A faint breeze had sprung up, and the smoke stretched out,undeviating, in a broad black smear over the starboard quarter; Jimmynoticed this while he paced to and fro, turning now and then to sweep adifferent arc of horizon. The last time he did so he stopped abruptly,for the smoke had moved forward. For a moment he fancied that the windhad changed, but a glance at the white-streaked wake showed him that thevessel was swinging round. Then he sprang to the pilot-house, and,looking in through the open door, saw the quartermaster leaning slacklyon the small brass wheel. His face showed livid in the moonlight, andhis forehead was damp with sweat.
"What's this, Evans?" Jimmy cried.
Pulling himself together with an effort, the man glanced at the compassin alarm.
"Sorry, sir," he said thickly, spinning the wheel. "She's fallen off abit. Something came over me; but I'm all right now."
"It may come over you once too often. This isn't the first time," Jimmyreminded him.
A shadow obscured the moonlight; and, turning abruptly, Jimmy saw thecaptain in the doorway. The skipper looked at the compass and studiedthe quartermaster's face; then he beckoned Jimmy outside. He had come upin soft slippers which made no noise, and Jimmy was keenly concerned toknow how long he had been there. Jimmy had never got on well with hiscaptain.
"Evans had his helm hard over; was she much off her course?" the captainasked with an ominous calm.
"About thirty degrees, sir."
"How long is it since you checked his steering?"
Jimmy told him.
"You consider that often enough?"
"I had my eye on the smoke, sir."
"The smoke? I suppose you know a light breeze is often variable?"
"Yes, sir," said Jimmy. "She couldn't swing off much without my noticingit."
"One wouldn't imagine so after what I discovered. But I gathered thatEvans had been seized in this way during your watch before."
"Yes, sir," Jimmy repeated doggedly.
"Didn't it strike you that your duty was to report the matter? You knewthat Evans has a weakness of the heart that may seize him unexpectedlyat any time. If it did so when we were entering a crowded harbor orcrossing another vessel's course, the consequences might provedisastrous. In not reporting it you took upon yourself a responsibilityI can't allow my officers. Have you anything to say?" Jimmy knew hecould make no answer that would excuse him. When, as is now usual, afast vessel's course is laid off in degrees, accurate steering isimportant, and he had been actuated by somewhat injudicious pity. Evanswas a steady man, with a family in England to provide for, and he hadonce by prompt action prevented the second mate's being injured by aheavy cargo-sling.
"Perhaps the best way of meeting the situation," the captain saidcurtly, "would be for you to voluntarily leave the ship at Vancouver.You can let me know what you decide when you come off watch."
Jimmy moodily returned to his duty. He thought his fault was small, butthere was no appeal. He would have no further opportunity for servinghis present employers; and mailboat berths are not readily picked up. Hekept his watch, and afterward went to sleep with a heavy heart.
The next evening he was idling disconsolately on the saloon deck when hesaw Miss Osborne coming toward him. He was standing in the shadow of aboat and stayed there, feeling in no mood to force a cheerfulness he wasfar from feeling. Besides, he had now and then, when the girl wasgracious to him, found it needful to practise some restraint, and now hefelt unequal to the strain.
"I have been looking for you," she said. "As I suppose everybody will bebusy to-morrow morning, I may not see you then. But you seem downcast!"
Jimmy shrank from telling her that he had been dismissed; and, afterall, that was a comparatively small part of his trouble. The girl's tonewas gentle, and there was in her eyes a sympathy that set his heartbeating. He wished he were a rich man, or, indeed, almost anythingexcept a steamboat officer who would soon be turned out of
his ship.
"Well," he said, "for one thing, the end of a voyage is often amelancholy time. After spending some weeks with pleasant people, it'snot nice to know they must all scatter and that you have to part fromfriends you have made and like."
A faint tinge of color crept into Ruth's face; but she smiled.
"It doesn't follow that they're forgotten," she replied; "and there'salways a possibility of their meeting again. We may see you at Tacoma;it isn't very far from Vancouver."
Jimmy was not a presumptuous man, but he saw that she had given him alead and he bitterly regretted that he could not follow it. Though ofhopeful temperament, stern experience had taught him sense, and herecognized that circumstances did not permit of his dallying withromance. There was nothing to be gained and something to be lost bycultivating the girl's acquaintance.
"I may have to sail on a different run before long," he said.
She gave him a glance of swift but careful scrutiny. The moonlight wasclear, and he looked well in his white uniform, which showed his solidbut finely molded figure and emphasized the clean brownness of his skin.He had light hair and steady, dark blue eyes, which had just then a hintof trouble.
"Well," she responded, "you know best; but, whether you come or not, myfather and I are in your debt. You have done much to make this a verypleasant voyage." She gave him her hand, which he held a moment. "And,now, since you wish it, good-by!"
When she turned away, Jimmy leaned on the rail, watching her movequietly up the long deck. He was troubled with confused and futileregrets. Still, he had acted sensibly: it was unwise for a dismissedsteamboat officer to harbor the alluring fancies he had sternly drivenfrom his mind.