The Pagan Madonna - Page 101/141

He clumped out into the passage.

"Well, say!" burst out the young sailor named Hennessy. "I'm a tough guy,

but I couldn't have turned that trick. Hey, you! If you've got any hooch

in the coal bunkers, heave it over. I'm telling you! These soft-spoken

guys are the kind I lay off, believe you me! I've seen all kinds, and I

know."

"Did they kick you out of the Navy?" snarled Flint.

"Say, are you asking me to do it?" flared the Irishman. "You poor boob,

you'd be in the sick bay if there hadn't been a lady on board."

"A lady?"

"I said a lady! Stand up, you scut!"

But Flint rolled into his bunk and turned his face to the partition.

Cunningham leaned against the port rail. These bursts of fury always left

him depressed. He was not a fighting man at all and fate was always

flinging him into physical contests. He might have killed the fool: he had

been in a killing mood. He was tired. Somehow the punch was gone from the

affair, the thrill. Why should that be?

For years he had been planning something like this, and then to have it

taste like stale wine! Vaguely he knew that he had made a discovery. The

girl! If he were poring over his chart, his glance would drift away; if he

were reading, the printed page had a peculiar way of vanishing. Of course

it was all nonsense. But that night in Shanghai something had drawn him

irresistibly to young Cleigh's table. It might have been the colour of her

hair. At any rate, he hadn't noticed the beads until he had spoken to

young Cleigh.

Glass beads! Queer twist. A little trinket, worthless except for

sentimental reasons, throwing these lives together. Of course an oil would

have lured the elder Cleigh across the Pacific quite as successfully. The

old chap had been particularly keen for a sea voyage after having been

cooped up for four years. But in the event of baiting the trap with a

painting neither the girl nor the son would have been on board. And Flint

could have had his noggin without anybody disturbing him, even if the

contract read otherwise.

Law-abiding pirates! How the world would chuckle if the yarn ever reached

the newspapers! He had Cleigh in the hollow of his hand. In fancy he saw

Cleigh placing his grievance with the British Admiralty. He could imagine

the conversation, too.

"They returned the yacht in perfect condition?"

"Yes."