MY first thought had been for the women, and, unluckily, to save
them a shock I had all evidences of the crime cleared away as
quickly as possible. Stains that might have been of invaluable
service in determining the murderer were washed away almost before
they were dry. I realized this now, too late. But the axe remained,
and I felt that its handle probably contained a record for more
skillful eyes than mine to read, prints that under the microscope
would reveal the murderer's identity as clearly as a photograph.
I sent for Burns, who reported that he had locked the axe in the
captain's cabin. He gave me the key, which I fastened to a string
and hung around my neck under my shirt. He also reported that, as
I had suggested, the crew had gone, two at a time, into the
forecastle, and had brought up what they needed to stay on deck.
The forecastle had been closed and locked in the presence of the
crew, and the key given to Burns, who fastened it to his watch-chain.
The two hatchways leading to the hold had been fastened down also,
and Oleson, who was ship's carpenter, had nailed them fast.
The crew had been instructed to stay aft of the wheel, except when
on watch. Thus the helmsman need not be alone. As I have said, the
door at the top of the companion steps, near the wheel, was closed
and locked, and entrance to the after house was to be gained only
by the forward companion. It was the intention of Burns and myself
to keep watch here, amidships.
Burns had probably suffered more than any of us. Whatever his
relation to the Hansen woman had been, he had been with her only
three hours before her death, and she was wearing a ring of his,
a silver rope tied in a sailor's knot, when she died. And Burns
had been fond of Captain Richardson, in a crew where respect rather
than affection toward the chief officer was the rule.
When Burns gave me the key to the captain's room Charlie Jones had
reached the other end of the long cabin, and was staring through
into the chartroom. It was a time to trust no one, and I assured
myself that Jones was not looking before I thrust it into my shirt.
"They're--all ready, Leslie," Burns said, his face working. "What
are we going to do with them?"
"We'll have to take them back."
"But we can't do that. It's a two weeks' matter, and in this
weather--"
"We will take them back, Burns," I said shortly, and he assented
mechanically:-"Aye, aye, sir."
Just how it was to be done was a difficult thing to decide. Miss
Lee had not appeared yet, and the three of us, Jones, Burns, and I,
talked it over. Jones suggested that we put them in one of the
life boats, and nail over it a canvas and tarpaulin cover.