"We think," McNamara said, when, last of all, he and Adams came up,
"that it would be best, lad, if we put down in the log-book all that
has happened last night and to-day, and this just now, too. It's
fresh in our minds now, and it will be something to go by."
So Burns and I got the log-book from the captain's cabin. The axe
was there, where we had placed it earlier in the day, lying on the
white cover of the bed. The room was untouched, as the dead man had
left it--a collar on the stand, brushes put down hastily, a
half-smoked cigar which had burned a long scar on the wood before
it had gone out. We went out silently, Burns carrying the book, I
locking the door behind us.
Mrs. Johns, sitting near the companionway with the revolver on her
knee, looked up and eyed me coolly.
"So they would not do it!"
"I am sorry to disappoint you--they would not."
She held up my revolver to me, and smiled cynically.
"Remember," she said, "I only said you were a possibility."
"Thank you; I shall remember."
By unanimous consent, the task of putting down what had happened was
given to me. I have a copy of the log-book before me now, the one
that was used at the trial. The men read it through before they
signed it.
August thirteenth.
This morning, between two-thirty and three o'clock, three murders
were committed on the yacht Ella. At the request of Mrs. Johns, one
of the party on board, I had moved to the after house to sleep,
putting my blanket and pillow in the storeroom and sleeping on the
floor there. Mrs. Johns gave, as her reason, a fear of something
going wrong, as there was trouble between Mr. Turner and the captain.
I slept with a revolver beside me and with the door of the storeroom
open.
At some time shortly before three o'clock I wakened with a feeling
of suffocation, and found that the door was closed and locked on the
outside. I suspected a joke among the crew, and set to work with my
pen-knife to unscrew the lock. When I had two screws out, a woman
screamed, and I broke down the door.
As the main cabin was dark, I saw no one and could not tell where
the cry came from. I ran into Mr. Vail's cabin, next the storeroom,
and called him. His door was standing open. I heard him breathing
heavily. Then the breathing stopped. I struck a match, and found
him dead. His head had been crushed in with an axe, the left hand
cut off, and there were gashes on the right shoulder and the abdomen.
I knew the helmsman would be at the wheel, and ran up the after
companionway to him and told him. Then I ran forward and called the
first mate, Mr. Singleton, who was on duty. He had been drinking.
I asked him to call the captain, but he did not. He got his revolver,
and we hurried down the forward companion. The body of the captain
was lying at the foot of the steps, his head on the lowest stair. He
had been killed like Mr. Vail. His cap had been placed over his face.