The seven missionaries

The seven missionaries seemed very decent fellows, even if they did fail somewhat signally to add to the general gaiety
By Major H. C. McNeile
Illustrations by G. W. Gage
Jim Maitland Encounters Modern Pirates Aboard the “Andaman”
It never really got much beyond the rumor stage--Captain James Kelly of the S. S. Andaman saw to that. It wouldn’t have done him any good, or his line, and since England was troubled with railway strikes and war scares at Agadir, things which happened on the other side of the globe were apt to be crowded out of the newspapers.
But he couldn’t stop the rumors, and “Our Special Correspondent” in Colombo made out quite a fair story for his paper at home. It didn’t appear; seemingly the editor thought the poor devil had taken to drink and was raving. In fact, all that did appear in the papers were two short and apparently disconnected notices. The first ran somewhat as follows, and was found under the Shipping Intelligence:
“The S. S. Andaman arrived yesterday at Colombo. She remained to carry out repairs to her wireless, and will leave tomorrow for Plymouth.”
And the second appeared some two or three months after:
“No news has yet been heard of the S. Y. Firefly , which left Colombo some months ago for an extensive cruise in the Indian Ocean. It is feared that she may have foundered with all hands in one of the recent gales.”
But she didn’t—the sea was as calm as the proverbial duck pond when the S. Y. Firefly went down in a thousand fathoms of water not far from the Cocos Islands. And but for the grace of Heaven and Jim Maitland that fate would have overtaken the good Andaman instead.
And so for your eyes only, Mrs. Jim, I will put down the real facts of the case. For your eyes only, I say, because I’m not absolutely sure that legally speaking he was quite justified.
The S. S. Andaman was a vessel of some three thousand tons. She was in reality a cargo boat carrying passengers, in that passengers were the secondary consideration. There was only one class, and the accommodation was sufficient for about thirty people. Twelve knots was her maximum speed, and she quivered like jelly if you tried to get more out of her. And last, but not least, Captain James Kelly had been her skipper for ten years, and loved her with the love only given to men who go down to the sea in ships.