"You bid me blow it?"
"Only to convince you how absolutely helpless you are," said Cunningham,
amiably. "Yesterday this day's madness did prepare, as our old friend Omar
used to say. Vedder did great work on that, didn't he? Toot the whistle,
for shortly we shall weigh anchor."
Like a man in a dream, Cleigh got out his whistle. The first blast was
feeble and windy. Cunningham grinned.
"Blow it, man, blow it!"
Cleigh set the whistle between his lips and blew a blast that must have
been heard half a mile away.
"That's something like! Now we'll have results!"
Above, on deck, came the scuffle of hurrying feet, and immediately--as if
they had been prepared against this moment--three fourths of the crew came
tumbling down the companionway.
"Seize this man!" shouted Cleigh, thunderously, as he indicated
Cunningham.
The men, however, fell into line and came to attention. Most of them were
grinning.
"Do you hear me? Brown, Jessup, McCarthy--seize this man!"
No one stirred. Cleigh then lost his head. With a growl he sprang toward
Cunningham. Half the crew jumped instantly into the gap between, and they
were no longer grinning. Cunningham pushed aside the human wall and faced
the Wanderer's owner.
"Do you begin to understand?"
"No! But whatever your game is, it will prove bad business for you in the
end. And you men, too. The world has grown mighty small, and you'll find
it hard to hide--unless you kill me and have done with it!"
"Tut, tut! Wouldn't harm a hair of your head. The world is small, as you
say, but just at this moment infernally busy mopping up. What, bother
about a little dinkum dinkus like this, with Russia mad, Germany ugly,
France grumbling at England, Italy shaking her fist at Greece, and labour
making a monkey of itself? Nay! I'll shift the puzzle so you can read it.
When the yacht was released from auxiliary duties she was without a crew.
The old crew, that of peace times, was gone utterly, with the exception of
four. You had the yacht keelhauled, gave her another daub of war paint and
set about to find a crew. And I had one especially picked for you!
Ordinarily, you've a tolerably keen eye. Didn't it strike you odd to land
a crew who talked more or less grammatically, who were clean bodily, who
weren't boozers?"
Cleigh, fully alive now, coldly ran his inspecting glance over the men. He
had never before given their faces any particular attention. Besides, this
was the first time he had seen so many of them at once. During boat drill
they had been divided into four squads. Young faces, lean and hard some of
them, but reckless rather than bad. All of them at this moment appeared to
be enjoying some huge joke.