Blythe against Bothwell.
The Scotch-Russian had more of the devil in him, a starker cruelty, a more blazing passion, and perhaps greater cunning; but if I read the Englishman aright there was in him that same quiet force which carried Captain Scott to the south pole and afterward gave to the world that immortal letter, written in a bleak Antarctic waste of icy death.
Sam Blythe would play the game out steadily to a fighting finish.
Chapter XI.
Taking Stock
Yeager was sitting with the ladies under the awning telling them some story of his beloved Arizona. At a signal from me he arose and excused himself. We passed into the reception room and down the stairway.
"You're armed, of course," I said.
"Me? I always pack a gun. Got the habit when I was a kid and never shucked it. For rattlesnakes," he added with a grin.
"We have a few of them on board. Yeager, the kid saw Bothwell in the engine room talking with Fleming. Do you know what that means?"
"I can guess, I reckon," he drawled.
"It means war—and soon."
"And war is hell, Sherman said. Let's make it hell for Bothwell. It's about time for me to begin earning my passage. What's the matter with me happening down into the forecastle and inviting Capt. Bothwell up to be more sociable?"
"Won't do at all. If he were alone it would be a different matter. If you went down there you'd never come up alive. We need every man we've got. Think of the women."
His light-blue eye rested in mine.
"I'd give twenty cows if they were back in Los Angeles, Jack."
From my pocket I took the key which unlocked the door of the room we called the armory. After I had selected two revolvers I left him there attending to business. Morgan I found in Blythe's cabin. He took my news quietly enough, though he lost color when I told him what we had to expect.
"I don't know much about revolvers, sir," he said, handling very respectfully the one I handed him.
"You'll know more in a day or two," I promised. "Morgan, we're going to beat these scoundrels. Be quite sure of that."
"Yes, sir. Glad to hear it, sir," he answered doubtfully.
"You know Captain Blythe. He's worth half a dozen of these wharf rats. So is Mr. Yeager."
"Are—are all the crew against us?" he asked after a moment's struggle with his trepidation.
"No, we know of at least two who are for us. Probably there are others. Don't be afraid. We're going to smash this mutiny."
"Yes, sir. Captain Blythe will see to that. I put my faith in him."
But in spite of what I had said it was plain that Morgan's faith was a quavering one. He was a useful man, competent in his own line, but his métier plainly was not fighting. My news had given him a shock from which he would not quickly recover.
It was nearly time for the change of watches, and when I returned to the deck I saw that Mott was already on the bridge. He listened to our story with plain incredulity.
"I know nothing about this man Bothwell, but say the word and I'll go down and haul him on deck for you, Captain Blythe," he offered, contemptuously.
"You don't understand the situation. He's as dangerous as a mad dog."
"I've yet to see the first stowaway I couldn't bring to time. They're a chicken-hearted lot, take my word for it."
"He isn't a stowaway at all in the ordinary sense of the word. I'll be plain, Mr. Mott. We're after treasure, and Bothwell means to get it. The crew are with him."
"Slap doodle bugs!" retorted our first officer. "I make nothing at all of your story, captain. Thirty years I've sailed this coast and I've yet to see my first mutiny. Haul up this fellow Bothwell and set him swabbing decks. If he shows his teeth, give him a rope's end or a marlinspike. I'll haze him for you a-plenty."
I could have smiled at Mott's utter lack of appreciation of our dilemma if his bull-headed obstinacy had not been likely to cost us so much.
"You don't understand the man with whom we have to deal, Mr. Mott. He sticks at nothing," I explained.
"Beg pardon, Mr. Sedgwick. He'd stick at deck swabbing if I stood over him with a handspike," the burly mate answered grimly. "Truth is, gentlemen, I don't think that of your mutiny." And he snapped his fingers with a complacent laugh. "Mind you, I don't deny the men are a bit unsettled, what with all this talk of treasure that's going around. What they need is roughing and, by the jumping mercury, Johnny Mott is the man to do it!"
There are none so blind as those who will not see. We could not even persuade Mott to accept a revolver. He had made up his mind that the whole thing was nothing more or less than a mare's nest.
"What do you know of the men?" I urged. "Take our engineers. We picked up the Flemings on the wharf because we needed engineers in a hurry. The day before we sailed I saw George Fleming on the wharf talking to this man Bothwell. They are working together against us."
"What of it? Let them work. But don't go to dreaming about mutiny, Mr. Sedgwick. You ask what I know of the crew. By your leave, I know this much. I've bullied American seamen for thirty years come next November, and there's not an ounce of mutiny in a million of them."
And at that we had to let it go for the present. There were more important things on hand than the conversion of a wooden-headed tar.
Leaving Mott at the wheel we adjourned to the deck saloon for a discussion of ways and means. Miss Wallace sauntered in with a magazine in her hand.
The captain's eye questioned mine. I nodded. She would have to learn soon how things stood, and I trusted to her courage to hear the news without any fainting or hysterics. The color washed out of her face, but she showed not the least sign of panic.
"What can I do?" she asked in a steady voice.
"At present you may join an officers' council, Miss Wallace," said he. "The first thing to find out is who are for us and who against. Let's take the enemy first. There is Bothwell himself to begin with, and, of course, the two Flemings and Caine. Are we sure of any others?"
"Johnson," I replied at once. "He was one of the two men who attacked me at San Pedro. I thought at the time one of the voices sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. After I reached the boat I noticed Caine watching me closely. The reason is clear enough to me now. He and Johnson slugged me, and he was watching to see if I had any suspicion of him."
"Sure, Jack?"
"Quite. I couldn't swear to them, but I'm morally certain. Johnson's English is just a little broken. It was his voice I knew."
"That makes five against us so far. We can add the firemen to that, since George Fleming chose them."
"Eight
