CHAPTER XVI
GATHERING CLOUDS
"Ruth," Drew pleaded. "Look at me."
She dropped her work then and met his eyes.
"You're angry with me, aren't you?" he asked.
"No; I'm not angry," she replied slowly.
"But you're vexed?" he suggested.
"I should say rather that I am sorry," she answered. "Everything has been so pleasant between us all up to now, and I hoped it was going to remain so."
"It was that impulsive tongue of mine," he said. "The words slipped out before I thought."
"What you said was nothing," she replied. "But the tone in which you spoke was unpleasant. It seemed as though you were trying to put a damper on things. It came like a dash of cold water, and I'm sure that Mr. Parmalee felt chilled by it."
"You seem very much interested in Mr. Parmalee's feelings," he said, with a return of jealousy at the mention of the other's name.
"No more than I am in those of any of my friends," she answered. "I think he is very nice, and I was very much interested in what he was saying," she added, with a tiny touch of malice.
But she repented instantly as she saw the pain in Drew's eyes.
"Let's forget all about it!" she exclaimed. "It was only a trifle, anyway."
"You forgive me then?" he asked.
"Of course I forgive you, you foolish boy! And to prove it, I'm not going to make you do any penance," she added gaily.
From that time, a smile from Ruth raised Drew to the seventh heaven, but when her smile was bestowed on Parmalee, he was dashed to the depths.
One thing especially was calculated to torture the jealous heart of a lover. Several times Drew observed Ruth and Parmalee engaged in what seemed to be a peculiarly confidential talk. Their heads were close together and their voices low. They seemed to be talking of something that concerned themselves alone.
The first time he saw them together in this way, he strolled up to them, but they changed instantly to a lighter and more careless tone, and introduced a topic in which he could join. But Ruth's face was flushed and Parmalee was scarcely able to disguise his impatience at the interruption.
After the first time, Drew left them alone. His pride refused to let him be a third in a conversation plainly designed for two.
In his secret musings Allen Drew dwelt on and exaggerated the advantages which Parmalee possessed. To be sure, he was weak and delicate, while Drew had the strength of a young ox. But Parmalee had wealth and standing and a polished manner that appealed strongly to women. Why should he not, with his suavity and winning smile, fascinate an impressionable girl?
Ruth herself, warned by the chilliness between the men that grew more pronounced with every day that passed, did her best to be prudent. The mischievous pleasure of having them both dangle when she pulled the strings had been replaced by a feeling almost of alarm. She realized enough of the fervor of Drew's passion to know that he was in deadly earnest and would brook no rivalry.
Tyke had been enjoying himself hugely from the start. He had utterly cast aside all thoughts of the business he had left behind him, and when Drew sometimes referred to it he refused to listen. The sea air and the delight of being once more in the surroundings of his early days had proved a tonic. His leg mended with magical rapidity, and by the time they had been ten days at sea he cast aside his crutches and managed to get about with the aid of a cane. Almost every moment of the day and evening when he was not at meals, he spent on deck, exchanging yarns with Captain Hamilton, studying the set of the sails, or gazing on the boundless expanse of sea and sky.
The weather so far had been perfect, and the schooner had slipped along steadily and rapidly, most of the time carrying her full complement of canvas. The captain thought that in about two or three days more they would be in the vicinity of Martinique. Once there, to the westward of that island, they would cruise about until the cay shaped like the hump of a whale should appear on the horizon.
But despite the good weather, there had been for some time past a shadow on the face of the captain which betrayed uneasiness. The young people, absorbed in their own affairs, had not noticed it, but Tyke's shrewd eyes had seen that all was not well, and one day when the captain dropped into a chair beside him, he broached the subject without ceremony.
"What's troubling you, Cap'n Rufe?" he asked. "Out with it and git it off your chest."
"Oh, nothing special," replied the captain evasively.
"Yes there is," retorted Tyke. "You can't fool me. So let's have it."
"Well, to tell you the truth," said Captain Hamilton, "I don't quite like the actions of the crew."
"No more do I," said Tyke calmly.
"Have you noticed it too?"
"I've still got a pair of pretty good eyes in my head. But heave ahead."
"Well, in the first place," said the captain, "it's about the worst set of swabs that ever called themselves sailors. Some of 'em don't seem to know the spanker boom from the jib. Of course, that isn't true of all of 'em. Perhaps half of them are fairly good men. But the rest seem to be scum and riffraff."
"What did you ship the lubbers for?" asked Grimshaw.
"I didn't," answered Captain Hamilton. "I was so busy with other things that I left it to Ditty."
"An' there you left it to a good man!" Tyke said scornfully. "I've been keeping tabs on that Bug-eye, as they call him, since I come aboard. He's a bad actor, he is. Listen here, Cap'n Rufe——" and the old man, with a warning hand on Captain Hamilton's knee and in a low voice, repeated what he had told Drew in the hospital about the one-eyed man being at the scene of his accident.
"And was it Ditty?" gasped Captain Hamilton.
"Surest thing you know. An' I don't believe I dreamed he went through my pockets. What was that for, when he didn't rob me of my watch and cash?"
The master of the schooner shook his head thoughtfully, making no immediate reply.
"Ditty's a pretty good sailor himself, I notice," went on Tyke.
"None better," assented the captain.
"An' he knows a sailor when he sees one?" continued the old man.
"Of course he does," the captain affirmed. "And that's what has seemed strange to me. He's often picked crews for me before, and I've never had to complain of his judgment."
"Well then," concluded Tyke, "it stands to reason that if he's shipped a lot of raffraff this time, instead of decent sailors, he'd a reason for it."
"It would seem so," admitted the captain uneasily.
"Have you put it up to him?" asked Tyke.
"I have. And he admits that some of the men are no good, but says that he was stuck. He left it to some boarding-house runners, and he says they put one over on him by bundling the worst of the gang aboard at the last minute."
"A mighty thin excuse," commented Tyke.
"Of course it is; and I raked Ditty fore and aft on account of it. I'm through with him after this cruise. I've only kept him on as long as I have because Mr. Parmalee wanted it so. But he finds another berth as soon as we reach New York."
"I've noticed him talking to some of the men a good deal," remarked Tyke.
"That's another thing that's worried me," said the captain. "Up to now, Ditty has always been a good bucko mate and has kept the men at a distance. Did you see the man I knocked down the other day when he started to give me some back talk?"
"Yes," grinned Tyke. "You made a neat job of it. Couldn't have done it better myself in the old days."
"But the peculiar thing about it," continued the captain, "was that I had to do it although the mate was a good deal nearer to the fellow than I was. Ordinarily, Ditty would have put him on his back by the time he'd got out the second word. But this time he had paid no attention, and I had to do the job myself."
"Well, what do you make of it all?"
"I don't know what to make of it, and that's just what's troubling me. If I could only get to the bottom of it, I'd make short work of the mystery."
"How's your second officer, Rogers? Is he a man you can depend on?"
"He's true blue. A fine, straight fellow and a good sailor."
"That's good."
"I wish he were mate in place of Ditty," muttered the captain.
"Well, he ain't," replied Tyke. "An' to make any change jest now with nothing more'n you've got to go on, would put you in bad with the marine court. We'll jest keep our eyes peeled for the first sign of real trouble, and' if them skunks start to make any we'll be ready for 'em."
"I wonder what the matter is with Drew and Parmalee over there!" exclaimed the captain suddenly. "More trouble?"
Tyke followed the direction the captain indicated and was astonished to see that the young men seemed to be on the verge of an altercation. Their faces were flushed and their attitude almost threatening.
The captain hurried toward them, and Tyke hobbled after him as fast as he was able.
The tension between Parmalee and Drew had been slowly but steadily tightening. Little things, trifles in themselves, had increased it until they found it hard to be civil to each other. In the presence of Ruth and the two older men, they suppressed this feeling as much as possible; and except by Ruth it had been unsuspected.
The purest accident that afternoon had brought the matter to a crisis.
Ruth was detained below by some duty she had on hand, and Drew was pacing the deck while Parmalee, leaning on his cane, was standing near the rail looking out to sea.
As Drew passed the other, the ship lurched and his foot accidentally struck the cane, which flew out of Parmalee's hand. Deprived of the support on which he relied, the latter staggered and almost lost his balance. He saved himself by clutching at the rail. Then he turned about with an angry exclamation.
Drew stooped instantly and picked up the cane, which he held out to Parmalee.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It was an awkward accident."
"Awkward, sure enough," sneered Parmalee.
"As to it's being an accident——" He paused suggestively.
Drew stepped nearer to him, his eyes blazing.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you intimate that I did it purposely?"
Parmalee regretted the ungenerous sneer as soon as he spoke. But his blood was up, and before Drew's menacing attitude he would not retract.
"You can put any construction on it that you please," he flared.
Just then Tyke and the captain came hurrying up.
"Come, come, boys," said the captain soothingly, "keep cool."
"What's the trouble with you two young roosters?" queried Tyke.
They looked a little sheepish.
"Just a little misunderstanding," muttered Drew.
"I fear it was my fault," admitted Parmalee. "Mr. Drew accidentally knocked my cane out of my hand, and I flew off at a tangent and was nasty about it when he apologized."
"Nothing mor'n that?" said Tyke, with relief. "You young fire-eaters shouldn't have such hair-trigger tempers."
"Shake hands now and forget it," admonished the captain genially.
The young men did so, both being ashamed of having lost control of themselves. But there was no cordiality in the clasp, and Tyke's keen sense divined that something more serious than a trivial happening like the cane incident lay between the two.
Tyke had never seen the French motto: "Cherchez la femme," and could not have translated it if he had. But he had seen enough of trouble between men, especially young men, to know that in nine cases out of ten a woman was at the bottom of it. He thought instantly of Ruth.
He decided to have a serious talk with Drew at the earliest opportunity. But as he looked about, after the young men had departed, he saw signs of a change in the weather that in a moment drove all other thoughts out of his head. He limped into the cabin companionway to look at the barometer.
"Jumping Jehoshaphat!" he shouted, "we're going to ketch it sure! She's down to twenty-nine an' still a-dropping!"