CHAPTER XVI: LOCKED IN THE CABIN.
Half stunned, Raynor looked up in time to see Carson lowering the reversed ensign. He staggered painfully to his feet. He was in time to see the other schooner filling away again on her course as those on board her saw the signal of distress lowered to the deck.
Carson paid no attention to Raynor till he had finished with the ensign. Then, in bitter tones, he told him to follow him. Raynor had no recourse but to obey.
The captain took him aft and opened the door of a small cabin. It was not the one Raynor had been used to occupy.
“I’m going to lock you up in here,� he said, “for the time being. I’ll decide what to do with you later.�
“Why can’t you let me go?� demanded Raynor, “I’m no good to you in your poaching schemes and sooner or later you’ll have to free me. Why not now?�
“Because you know too much,� was the answer. The captain turned on his heel and slammed the door. Raynor heard a wooden bar fall into sockets on the outside. He was a prisoner. No one came near him for the rest of that day.
The room was lighted by a small port. By looking out of this Raynor was able to make out that he was confined in the extreme stern of the schooner. Right over the rudder, in fact.
When darkness came he stretched himself out on the single bunk which ran along one side of the cabin. It boasted no bed clothes and he was very cold. But youth, and his exhausted condition after the excitements of the day, overcame him, and he was soon fast asleep.
In the morning he was scarcely awake before Pompey appeared with some bread and a jug of water.
“Is that all I get to eat?� demanded Raynor who, despite his plight, had his appetite.
“Das all,� said Pompey commiseratingly, “dat cap’n he say yo’ blood need coolin’ wid light diet.�
“Do you know if I’m to be let out, Pompey?� asked Raynor with some anxiety.
“Dat am a subjec’ upon which ah am discommoded by de captain suppressed commands ter conversationalize,� rejoined Pompey. “I’se mighty sorry, but ah jes’ got to keep quiet while ah’s in hyah.�
He shook his woolly head solemnly and then, having set down the breakfast, if such it could be called, took his departure. Raynor heard the confining bar fall as the door was locked. He groaned aloud.
“Oh, what a fix,� he muttered, “out of the frying pan into the fire. If I ever get out of this, catch me ever sitting on a steamer’s rail with my legs swinging, for all my troubles come from that. Good old Jack, if only I had heeded his advice. I wonder what he is doing now?�
He broke off his reflections with a heavy sigh, and tackled the uninviting-looking stale bread. First, however, he took a hearty draught from the water pitcher, for he was very thirsty.
He was munching away at a dried crust when he suddenly saw some object dangling in front of the cabin port hole. At first he thought it was a sea bird. But the next instant he made it out as a parcel hanging on the end of a string.
“Must be for me,� mused the lad, and reaching out an arm he drew in the package. The string came with it, as whoever had lowered the package from the stern deck above, released his grip.
Raynor tore away the wrappings and revealed what was to him just then a banquet. There was a chicken wing, crisp fried potatoes, pickles and a wedge of pie. Scrawled on the paper which contained the meal was this message:
“Ete harty.�
“That’s good old Noddy,� cried Raynor to himself, his eyes growing misty. “He’s stolen part of that chicken that was killed yesterday for the captain’s dinner and risked punishment to help me out. What a fine fellow he is for all his odd ways!�
With a good appetite Raynor fell to on the daintier fare that had come to him by “air route.� In a short time not a crumb was left. The day wore slowly away after that. At dusk Pompey appeared and thrust a lantern inside the cabin. But he did not speak. From this Raynor judged that Terror Carson was near at hand.
His captivity was wearing on him, even in the short time that he had been confined. He had nothing to read, and had passed the long hours of daylight gazing out of the port hole and watching the waves and an occasional sea-bird that swooped in the schooner’s wake, alert for scraps from the galley.
The lantern was a welcome companion at least. Raynor felt that he could not have passed an entire night in the dark with only his thoughts for company. He hung the lantern on a hook on the ceiling and cast himself on his back on the bunk.
All at once he sat bolt upright with an exclamation.
“I can’t stand this any longer. I’ve got to find some way of escape.�
But a brief survey of the tiny cabin showed that this was a much easier thing to plan than to accomplish. The door was solid, so were the walls and the ceiling. At last there remained only the floor. A shabby worn strip of carpet was nailed on it.
“I might as well be thorough about this,� mused Raynor and he ripped the flimsy fabric from the planks. Something met his eyes that made them shine with delight.
“Eureka!� he cried, “I’ve found it.�
Under the shabby carpet was an iron ring let into what appeared to be a small trap-door.
“Here’s where I fool Terror Carson,� murmured Raynor, as he inserted his fingers in the ring and tugged with all his strength.