The After House - Page 38/108

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.