by Hugh Lloyd
Toby drank his coffee with a determined gulp, then got up and stalkedinto the cabin with the empty cup. When he came out, he held out hishands to Skippy.
“C’mon, then, Sonny,” he said gripping the boy by the shoulders, “we’llbe a-gittin’ back ter the _Apollyon_ ’fore too much water slips interthe bay, hey?”
“Just what I was thinkin’ of, Pop,” Skippy answered and averted his headso that his father should not see the tears swimming in his eyes. “And,Pop, you’re kinda calm now, ain’t you? Calm enough to remember better’nwhen we were comin’ down?”
Toby Dare nodded wearily.
“What yer wanta know, Skippy?”
“Just that you’re good an’ sure that you didn’t hear him make a noisefrom the time you first seen him till you ran outa the room?”
“Sure, I’m sure, Sonny. And like I told you, the grin was the same too.”
“Then he _was_ dead, Pop—dead all the time, an’ somebody with anautomatic did it because the second mate said he dreamed he heardsomebody runnin’ an’ then he heard a muffled kicker shoving off aft likeI saw when we come along. Whoever had that automatic was in that kicker,Pop. I got a hunch about it.”
“I hope the coppers believe you, Sonny. But c’mon, we’ll take thechance. Anyways, I’ll tell what I know.”
They walked forward together and were just about to descend when theysaw a long, dark painted launch shoot alongside of the _Minnie M.Baxter_. As Skippy and his father leaned over to get a better view theywere blinded with the glaring rays of a searchlight.
“_Coppers, Pop!_” Skippy hissed. “It’s the coppers!”
“COPPERS, POP!” SKIPPY HISSED. “IT’S THE COPPERS!”_Frontispiece_]
Toby gripped his son’s trembling fingers in his own.
“Don’t move, Dare!” a deep voice commanded from the police launch.
“I’m not,” Toby answered hoarsely.
“We’ll be right up. Stay right where you are.”
“Pop an’ I were just comin’,” Skippy cried to them, “that is, we werejust goin’ back to the yacht—the _A—Apollyon_ an’ tell them how it allreally happened. Pop ran away on accounta me, but after we talked aboutit he decided to go back an’ tell.... Mr. Flint was dead before Pop gotthere—_he was; honest!_”
“Oh yeah?” laughed the first officer to reach the deck. “Now that’sinterestin’. But I’d wait till the rest of the gang gets up, kid,because they all got ears too.”
Skippy watched them troop up until the last man set foot on the barge’sworn deck. Six men, he thought, with not a little fear. How weak wouldhis father’s story seem to these frowning cops? Would they believe himas he had believed him?
His fingers were entwined in his father’s in a tight grip and yet he hadthe feeling that Toby was already snatched away from him. Now that thepolice confronted them he was terribly afraid and in that instant hishopes fled as quickly as the stars in the face of gathering storm cloudsoverhead.
Then Toby spoke in his hoarse, broken voice....
CHAPTER VIII ALONE
Skippy’s hopes were somewhat rekindled during Toby’s recital of hisvisit to the yacht. The story sounded so straightforward as he told it,that it did not seem possible that these representatives of the lawcould find a single flaw in it. And yet to his utter dismay they foundmore than a flaw in it; they found it sufficiently damning to threatenhis unhappy father with certain conviction.
They had already seen Inspector Jones and had had his word for it thatToby Dare had threatened to “fix Josiah Flint,” and there was also thecorroboration of the inspector’s men. There was also the stronglyincriminating statement of the second mate of the _Apollyon_ and thecharge that Toby refused to stop when called to from the yacht bySkinner.
“My Pop never carried a gun!” Skippy cried in protest. “You can’t saythat he did!”
“There’s a robbery charge too,” said one of the officers sternly. “Youwent to Flint’s yacht because you were sore and Inspector Jones heardyou crack that it would be bad for Flint if he didn’t kick in for theloss of the barge. It adds up swell for a jury.”
“Yeah,” said another, “and when Flint give you the razz like you’retrying to tell us, you burn up, shoot him, then you choke him and friskhim to get that three hundred with plenty interest back. Yourfingerprints on his throat are the only fingerprints we found. What didyou do with the gun—throw it in the river?”
Toby denied it all with a groan, and Skippy sidled up to his father andheld on to his arm with a gesture of protection. The officers frownedfor there is neither time nor place for sentiment in the progress of thelaw. They had come to arrest Toby Dare for the murder and robbery ofJosiah Flint and all Skippy’s pleading would not thwart them.
The faint boom of thunder sounded as Toby was led into the police launchand a flash of lightning streaked the black sky just above the _MinnieM. Baxter_. But Skippy was indifferent to everything save the hopeless,staring look that his father gave him as their eyes met.
He fought back the tears bravely and smiled his bravest.
“Now, Pop, stop thinking about me again, huh!” he cried desperately.“Gee whiz, I’ll be swell—I promise I will so will you cheer up an’everythin’, huh? Because you gotta prove you’re tellin’ the truth an’never had a gun so how could you do what they say you did? So will youcheer up if I tell you I’ll be all right, no matter what?”
Toby Dare’s troubled face lighted with a smile.
“Skippy, boy,” he gulped, “I kin do anythin’ when I hear yer talk likethat. Jest hearin’ yer say yer’ll be a good boy’s enough fer me.”
“All right, then, Pop,” Skippy said, forcing a laugh. “So we won’t evensay so long ’cause they’ll let you come back in a day or so, I bet.”
“Sure,” Toby assured him. “They’re bound ter let me.”
And that was all, for the launch chugged off leaving Skippy strangelynumb and bewildered. He watched the snakelike movements of the trimcraft as she darted through the inlet but soon the darkness enfolded herfrom view. After a few moments they switched on their running lights butthere was too much distance between them for the boy to see his fatherand so he turned his back to the inlet and slowly walked toward thelittle cabin.
Not a light had appeared the length or breadth of the whole barge colonysince the police launch slipped up to the _Minnie M. Baxter_ yet Skippyknew that every man and woman in Brown’s Basin was awake and watchingall that had transpired. His father had told him that these strange,lawless people had a surprising faculty for learning of the law’sarrival in the inlet. And hating the law as they did, they kept silentlyout of its sight, nor did they want to be drawn into it throughanother’s troubles.
Notwithstanding this knowledge, Skippy had the feeling that he had onlyto call out and ask for help for himself and his father, and his lawlessneighbors would immediately respond. Yet that is just what Toby hadwarned him against. Moreover, his promise to avoid dubious company wasnot ten minutes old.
And so he resolved to bear his troubles manfully and alone, though neverin his life had he so wanted the warmth and sympathy of humancompanionship. He was young enough to be afraid, yet old enough to feelashamed of it. But the events of the day and his father’s unhappy plightfinally proved too much for him and with trembling under lip he soughtthe shelter of the cabin.
A few minutes later a terrific storm broke over the river and sweptthrough the Basin relentlessly. Rain lashed against the tiny windows ofthe cabin on the _Minnie M. Baxter_ and the wind moaned eerily in andout of the inlet.
Skippy buried his tousled head under a pillow in his bunk and tried tostifle the sobs that would not stop. His heart raced madly in his breastevery time he thought of his father and his fears increased with everycrash of thunder. Could it possibly be that his father wouldn’t comeback?
He squirmed farther under the bedclothes. He would have shut out histhoughts if that had been possible. Pr
esently he heard a muffledknocking at the cabin door.
CHAPTER IX A VISITOR
Skippy sat up instantly, threw off the bedclothes and slid to the floor.Then he hurried to the little table and lighted the lamp, meanwhileglancing toward the door uneasily. The knock sounded again; this timeinsistently.
He rushed to the door and swung it open. A man stood before him in thepelting rain, the tallest, broadest man he had ever seen in his life. Hecould not have been out of his twenties and had a large, rather amiablelooking face; so large, indeed, that it made his blue eyes seem smalland insignificant.
A MAN STOOD BEFORE HIM IN THE PELTING RAIN.]
As Skippy waited questioningly, he moved his ponderous neck above hisupturned coat collar and smiled, a slow, secretive smile. Then he halfturned and glanced quickly toward the inlet, before he spoke.
“Sure and be ye Toby’s kid?” he asked with a slight brogue. “Can I comein? And where’s Toby bein’ at this hour?” He walked into the cabinquickly.
The ghost of a smile flitted across Skippy’s tear-stained cheeks as heclosed the door.
“Sure, sure, come in!” he said hospitably. “Pop ain’t here. He’s....”
“’Tis all right, so ’tis,” the stranger interposed pleasantly, andcalmly divested himself of his wet clothing. “I got nothin’ but time.Your ould man told me I’d always be welcome in his diggins so here I be.’Tis too bad ’bout this scow, though. I only got wise tonight that theinspectors told Toby the _Minnie M. Baxter_ was junk. Bad cess to ’em.So Flint gypped Toby on it, did he?”
“An’ how!” Skippy answered dismally. “Gee, gee....”
The man got up and waving his hands deprecatingly, made a quick movementtoward one of the windows on the inlet side. He bent his huge frame in astooping posture and after rubbing the steam from the diminutive pane,he peered out intently.
Suddenly he turned back and smiled his slow, secretive smile.
“I ain’t exactly aisy in me mind, kid,” he explained with a low chuckle.“I be keepin’ a weather eye on thim coppers. They’re curious like ’boutsome stuff and I ain’t in the spirit to answer thim. They got me bargeand that’s enough, so ’tis.”
“You ain’t Big Joe Tully?” Skippy asked.
“That be callin’ the turn, kid. S’pose your Pop give ye an earful ’boutme. Well, I started out shootin’ straight like he did, but whilstFlint’s got the monop’ly on shippin’ and the like on this river, a guy’sa million to one, so he is.”
“Mr. Flint won’t have it no more,” Skippy gulped. “I guess you ain’theard....”
“_What?_” asked Big Joe Tully reaching in his pocket for a cigarette.
“He’s dead—he was killed tonight.” Tears rushed to Skippy’s eyes again.“An’ my Pop’s been sorta accused, Mr. Tully,” he added, and blurted outthe whole story.
Tully was puffing energetically on his cigarette when Skippy finished.
“Now don’t ye be worryin’ kid,” he said sympathetically. “If that ol’rat was dead when Toby got there they can’t do nothin’ to him. Toby’llbe home tomorrow, so he will, I bet.”
Skippy felt instantly cheered. He was beginning to feel glad of BigJoe’s comforting presence when he bethought himself of the man’s dubiousactivities on the river. Wasn’t it this man and his ilk that his fatherhad warned him against? Men who weren’t honest? The boy sat down on hisbunk to think it over.
To his surprise, Tully had got up and was putting on his coat and hat.Immediately, Skippy forgot that he was considering the moral aspect ofan invitation to the man to stay; he forgot all his father’s warningsagainst association with the river gentry, and thought only of the voidthat Tully’s sudden departure would make in the long night.
“I thought you said you were gonna stay, Mr. Tully?” he said withevident disappointment. “Gee, now you ain’t, huh?”
“’Tis sorry I be, kid,” said Big Joe with a friendly wink. “I did thinkalong thim lines when I come in, but since the coppers been nosin’’round here tonight, I’ll be mosyin’ along. They might come back andspot me here so I’d better be takin’ the air.”
“Did they catch you carryin’ _stuff_?” Skippy asked, interested. “Isthat why?”
“Sure and they did that. Somewan tipped off the police—somewan what wasjealous I wasn’t carryin’ _their_ stuff.” He laughed lightly. “Thecoppers hook ye either way, so they do. Look how quick they come afterToby and they knew he was on the up and up! So I says, does it pay?”Then, seeing the shadow on Skippy’s face, he added: “But sure you’ll beseein’ Toby back tomorrow, kid. They can’t be keepin’ him when he didn’tdo it.”
“He didn’t do it, so they can’t!” Skippy echoed.
“’Tis a cinch, so ’tis,” said Big Joe Tully with an awkward attempt tosympathize. “Be hittin’ the hay now, kid, an’ ye’ll be seein’ Tobytomorrow or me name ain’t Joe Tully. Now I’ll be swingin’ into me kickerand chug her up the river till daylight. I’ll be layin’ low a while andsome day I’ll be seein’ ye and Toby. Be watchin’ the old step. S’long.”
He went out like a breeze and Skippy soon heard the chug of his engine.Another craft muffled so that the ears of the law would not hear itsapproach! The boy made a mental grimace at the thought of all thismuffled life on the river, Big Joe Tully included. His inherent love ofclean living and honesty had come to the fore as his father had wantedit to. And honesty and clean living _did_ pay despite what Tully hadsaid. Certainly it would pay his father tomorrow! He lay back on hisbunk and closed his burning eyes.
Tomorrow was almost here ... almost....
CHAPTER X A SUGGESTION
Many tomorrows had come and gone before Skippy saw his father again andthen it was under circumstances that the lonely boy had notcontemplated. The shadow of prison walls already threatened Toby Darefor the rest of his natural life; conviction was certain.
Skippy returned to the _Minnie M. Baxter_ toward noon. It threatened tobe a sultry day; the air was heavy and still, and a sickening blue hazehung over the inlet. Brown’s Basin, always more or less apathetic underthe glare of noonday, was unusually silent and Skippy listened in vainfor the cheering sound of a human voice.
He set about preparing lunch, but it was a half-hearted, patheticattempt, for the Dare larder was getting dangerously bare. He had beenliving on an almost exclusive diet of pancakes for more than a week pastand Nature was beginning to retaliate for Skippy was far from being arobust boy.
He pushed back his plate after a time, hurried out of the cabin and gotinto his motor boat. It was his only consolation during the interminabledays and nights of his father’s continued absence and on this particularday his heart warmed toward it with a new, affectionate thought.
His fishing tackle was assembled at his feet and he set the nose of thelittle boat downstream as soon as he reached the river. Fog hornspierced the still, hazy air with their dismal warnings and the screamsof steam winches and tooting whistles echoed and reechoed about theboy’s tousled head.
He watched the passing river traffic abstractedly, particularly thelumbering and heavily-laden barges moving along in the wake of chortlingtugs. The sight of them always made him think of his father and of whatmight have been, and the more he saw of them the more did the feelinggrow within him that it was a strange and unjust law that could take hisfather away from him. Moreover, he could not understand why a jury wouldnot believe his father’s straightforward story, which proved so clearlyto him that another hand had taken Josiah Flint’s life.
Hadn’t the police found that the rich man had been robbed of aconsiderable sum of money and hadn’t they admitted that it was neitheron Toby’s person nor on the barge? Skippy remembered only too well theday when the police ransacked the _Minnie M. Baxter_ fore and aft forJosiah Flint’s money. But their search was futile, as he knew it wouldbe, and although they now had ample proof that poverty thre
atened him,they still insisted that the stolen money had been hidden by his unhappyfather.
But Skippy did not consider the testimony of Marty Skinner that he, onreturning to his employer’s stateroom, saw Toby Dare with his arm outthe porthole (from which a clever and venomous prosecuting attorney drewthe inference for the jury that Toby was disposing of the pistol fromwhich the fatal shot was fired). Skinner did not swear he saw anyweapon, but his testimony, linked with the other evidence, made for astrong circumstantial case.
Skinner also testified that he had rushed to his employer’s side as Tobyraced from the room; that upon discovering that Josiah Flint had beenshot he chased after the squatter and shouted to him, as he made off inhis kicker, to no avail. The second mate corroborated the testimony thatToby failed to heed the cries for him to halt.
While the pistol had not been found, Inspector Jones and his mentestified that Toby had threatened to fix Josiah Flint because he felthe had been cheated of his life savings of $300 in buying a rotten bargefrom Flint. That, the prosecutor insisted to the jury, furnished themotive for the crime. Altogether he made a case which convinced thetwelve men, but it did not convince Skippy for he could not be convincedthat his father was guilty.
Skippy was deep in his bitter reflections and did not see the familiarlaunch of the harbor inspectors until it was almost upon him. InspectorJones’ bright and smiling face came alongside of him with startlingsuddenness.
“Well, Skippy!” he said pleasantly. “How’s the boy?”
Skippy winced and a frown darkened his face. He could not forget thatInspector Jones’ testimony had helped to take his father from him.
