From Billabong to London

by Mary Grant Bruce

DETECTIVE WORK.

A deputation of three paused at the foot of the ladder leading to the captain’s quarters.

“You can’t keep it to yourselves,” Mr. Linton had said. “If there’s nothing in it, you might get yourselves into a good deal of trouble by interfering; and if your suspicions are correct, you want authority behind you. In either case the captain might resent your not reporting the matter to him. No, I won’t come; it’s your own party. I didn’t get out of my excellent bed in the small hours of the morning and wander round the ship acting Sherlock Holmes!”

“Norah, The Human Sleuth!” murmured Wally, admiringly.

Norah reddened. In the commonplace light of day she felt a little shaken about her discovery. It had seemed very certain in the night; now she wondered if it were indeed quite so sure a thing. Uncomfortable visions of bursting into the cabin of perhaps an innocent old lady, filled her mind.

“Be quiet!” said Jim, patting his chum on the head with more vigour than consideration. “Who upset himself?”

“That isn’t decent of you,” said Wally, rubbing his pate. “I’m still bruised, in mind and body. It’s evident that there’s nothing of the sleuth about this child. Well, you and Norah can go to the skipper.”

“Indeed, you’re coming too,” said Jim. “You saw the light as well as we did.”

“And messed up the show, without any assistance,” Wally added, sadly.

“Don’t be an old stupid,” said Norah. “If this show is a show at all, it isn’t a matter of one night only. We’ll get him, if he’s there to be got.”

“Of course we shall,” Jim said. “Well, we might as well go and hunt up the captain.”

“Wait until eleven o’clock,” counselled his father. “Most of the passengers are pretty well taken up then, between beef-tea and games, and you’re likely to find the boat-deck empty; it’s just as well not to court observation when you attack him in force.” So the deputation possessed its soul in what patience it might until the coast was fairly clear, and then made a rapid ascent to the upper deck.

“Shall we send him a message?” Norah asked, stopping at the foot of the ladder.

“No, I don’t think so,” Jim answered. “This is a private call, and we don’t want attention drawn to it. Come on.” They plunged up the steep steps and knocked discreetly.

“Come in,” said the captain’s voice; and they entered, to find not only Captain Garth, but the chief officer, comfortably ensconced in easy chairs; at sight of whom the deputation stopped, in some confusion.

“I beg your pardon,” Jim said; “we ought to have found out if you were engaged.”

“By no means—it’s all right,” said the captain, cheerfully. “Mr. Dixon and I were merely discussing affairs of state—the weight of brown trout, I think it was, eh, Dixon? Sit down, Miss Norah. Is it very private, or can Mr. Dixon stay?”

“It’s certainly private,” Jim said, laughing; “but I should think Mr. Dixon had better stay, or you might have the trouble of getting him back, captain.”

“It sounds alarming,” said the skipper. “May I smoke, Miss Norah?—thank you. I’ll feel better able to bear it, with a pipe, whatever it is. Not mutiny, I hope, Jim?”

“You may think it’s nothing at all,” Jim answered “But we thought we’d better tell you.” He made his story as brief as possible, watching the captain’s face—which darkened as he heard, while Mr. Dixon’s remained frankly incredulous.

“If this is so, what’s the watch doing, Dixon?” was the captain’s first question.

“The watch is generally pretty well on the look-out,” the chief officer said. “Only a night or two before, Miss Norah, here, was telling me they raided her cabin because a light was coming from it.” He stopped, for Norah had given a hasty jump. A sudden flash of comprehension illuminated a puzzle that had remained in a corner of her mind.

“I don’t believe it was my light they saw at all!” she exclaimed. “I never could make out how it could be. Jim, don’t you think it must have been the same flashes that we saw?”

“By Jove!” said Jim. “That explains it—I couldn’t understand why they went for you and your little torch.”

“You might tell me what it means,” said the captain, patiently. “I’d know more if you did!”

“My port was open—but the curtain was drawn across it,” Norah explained. “I wanted some toothache stuff, so I was using my little electric torch—it’s only a wee one, and I’m just certain it couldn’t throw any light through the curtain and outside. But the quartermaster came down and complained. I don’t believe it was my cabin at all that they saw—it was the one we were watching last night.”

“Yes,” exclaimed Wally, “and, ten to one, whoever it was heard the quartermaster raiding you, and profited by the warning. And then he thought of fitting in his wind-scoop so that it would shut out his light from the deck above.”

“That’s possible, of course,” Mr. Dixon said. “Those wind-scoops jut out a good way; I don’t believe any one looking down would see a light shielded by one. The watch is well kept—but all that the men think of looking for is a decided ray of light from a cabin window.”

“H’m!” said the captain. “You didn’t find out who occupies the suspected cabin?”

“No,” Jim answered. “We thought of doing so, but Dad reckoned it might excite suspicion if we took any steps. So we haven’t done anything.”

“Quite right. The purser can tell me easily enough.” The captain paused, and knitted his brow in thought.

“Well,” he said, at length, “it may be innocent enough—but it doesn’t sound so. I’m giving you three credit for being fairly acute observers; I don’t think you’d jump to wild conclusions.”

“We were awfully scared of making fools of ourselves!” Jim said, laughing.

“Very wholesome feeling. Anyhow, I’ll speak to the purser, and make a few inquiries. And as it’s your case, so to speak, perhaps you would all come up here this afternoon and have tea with me, and I’ll tell you anything I’ve found out. Bring your father.”

“Thanks, awfully,” said the deputation, greatly relieved at being taken so seriously.

“I don’t think I need mention that ‘a still tongue makes a wise head,’ or any sage proverb of that description?” said the captain, with a smile.

“I don’t think so,” Jim answered. “If you have a raid, Captain, may we be in it?”

“I’ll see,” said the captain. “Too soon to make rash promises—and your father might have a word to say in the matter. We’ll have a talk about it this afternoon. You can tell any one that you’re going to hear my gramophone.” He smiled at them encouragingly, and the deputation, understanding that it was dismissed, withdrew. On the boat-deck, it broke up into three, each unit rejoining the main body of the passengers separately, with an elaborate air of unconcern.

“We were wondering what had become of you,” remarked John West, whom they found, with two or three of the younger men, talking to Mr. Linton. “Some one was hunting for you two fellows to play cricket.”

“Sorry,” Jim said. “Are they playing?”

“I don’t think so—it fell through. There are really not enough passengers to get up games. Some of the more energetic are talking of a sports committee—but I’m dead against it this side of Durban. We shall probably pick up more people there.”

“You’re coming on to London?” Jim asked.

“Oh, yes—Grantham and Barry and I mean to stick together if we can, and try to get into the same crowd; we don’t care what it is, but we’d prefer a mounted one. You two had better come along with us. We’d be a pretty useful lot.”

“Thanks,” said the boys, flattered at the invitation from older men. “It would be jolly.”

“I’m a bit doubtful as to its being jolly at all,” said Grantham, laughing. “From all I can read it’s going to be a particularly beastly business, and I rather think a good deal of the ‘romance of war’ will disappear over it. The only thing is that it would be less jolly to stay out of it.”

“Yes; you’d feel a bit of a waster, to stand out, wouldn’t you?” West said. “Everybody’s going to be in it before long, I’ll bet—it will be a sort of International Donnybrook Fair.” He raised his voice to include Mr. Smith, who was standing by the rail, looking out to sea. “Going to join when you get home, Smith?”

“To join?” said the stout one, turning. “To join what?”

“Oh, just the little old Army! You’re not going to be out of the fun, are you?”

Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m too old,” he said. “Men of my age aren’t wanted—it’s youngsters like you and those boys. Very useful you’ll be, if you get there. But for me—well, there is the Rifle Club of which I’m a member; and they may make me a special constable. That requires heroism, if you like—to march up and down a sloppy London street in the pouring rain for four hours each night, knowing just how much use you would be if anything went wrong.”

“But why wouldn’t you be of use?” Norah asked.

“Why?—because I am not young. Nobody is much use who is elderly—and fat. One gets flabby and one’s muscles become soft and limp. Only one’s head remains. Therefore, I cultivate my head.”

“For the sake of your country?” Grantham asked, laughing.

Mr. Smith nodded.

“Just so—for the sake of my country. We cannot all serve in the same way. Somewhere or other there will be a job of work for me, and I shall try to hold down my job, as the Americans say. No one can do more than that.” He laughed good-humouredly. “So when you are marching by in khaki, you can spare a thought for the poor, chilly special constable who keeps the streets clear for you to pass, or performs some equally dull and ordinary duty—and gets no fun out of it; not even a medal.”

“You under-rate your capabilities, Mr. Smith,” said Mr. Linton, laughing. “No one who saw you racing down the pier at Melbourne could regard you as either elderly or decrepit.”

“Well—perhaps not yet. But fat—yes!” Mr. Smith smiled deprecatingly, casting a downward glance at his ample figure. “I fear I am no longer a stayer; and in a trench I would certainly take up too much room. So I curb my ambitions. But there will be a job for me somewhere, though it may not be a showy one.” His smile widened, including all the little group; then the chief engineer passed, and Mr. Smith fell into step with him and strolled off along the deck.

“Jolly decent of the old chap,” said Grantham. “I like a man who doesn’t talk much, but is ready to take his share; and somehow, you don’t expect it from a lazy-looking, comfortable business man of his type.”

“No,” said Barry. “People like us go in as much for the fun of it—the adventure—as anything; but he can’t anticipate experiences like that. Just shows you can’t judge any one; I’d have put old Smith down as an arm-chair patriot, if ever there was one, but he seems anxious to be thoroughly uncomfortable, if necessary.”

“Oh, he’s not half a bad fellow!” Jim said. “He’s so interested about things; it’s quite jolly to talk to him. And he’s keen about his nephew and the boys on the transports. There are lots of people worse than old Smith.” Thus dismissing the claims to respect of his fellow-passengers, Jim demanded volunteers for deck-quoits, and the party, having volunteered in a body, withdrew.

The captain’s gramophone was something of an institution on the ship. It was an excellent machine, and the captain loved it. Occasionally he was induced to bring it to the saloon at night, or, in the tropics, out on the deck; but his more usual form of entertainment was to invite a select few to his cabin for tea, an invitation understood to include music. It was not therefore, regarded as anything unusual when the Linton group declined the general tea-summons, and moved away in the direction of the upper deck. In the comfortable rooms under the bridge, tea was made the chief business of the gathering, and nothing was said of any other matter until every one was served and the stewards had withdrawn. Then the captain looked round the expectant faces.

“Well, I have not much to report,” he said. He produced a plan of the ship, showing the outer view of the port-holes. “That is your cabin window, Miss Norah. Now where did you see those flashes emerging?”

“From this one,” said Norah, unhesitatingly, indicating a port-hole. “Wasn’t it, boys?” Jim and Wally, looking over her shoulder, nodded confirmation.

“Ah, so I thought! Well, that cabin has no occupant—it’s a small vacant one.”

Disappointment showed plainly written on the faces of his three younger hearers.

“That, of course, proves nothing,” went on the captain; and the faces cleared immediately. “Any one could get in to use it; it is not locked. There are no signs of its having been occupied in any way, but then, no one using it surreptitiously would leave signs. We have one piece of evidence, however; the wind-scoop is a new one, but there are scratches on it that show it has been applied, possibly by a person who did not thoroughly understand how to insert it in the port-hole. Why, you blood-thirsty young people!—you look pleased!”

The three detectives had beamed, quite involuntarily. They laughed, a little shame-faced.

“We’re anxious not to have taken up your time for nothing, sir,” explained Wally, suavely.

“H’m,” said Captain Garth, looking from one guest to another. “Mr. Linton, you look as pleased as any of them!”

“The family reputation for common sense is at stake,” said Mr. Linton, smiling. “I admit I don’t want to find they’ve led you on a wild-goose chase, captain. Besides, they woke me up; I want some compensation for a disturbed night.”

“A peaceful man, anxious to command a blameless ship, has a poor time nowadays!” said the captain. “Well, that’s how the matter stands. The cabins near the empty one are occupied by ladies, who, I think, are guiltless of anything desperate; they’re all addicted to wool-work and playing Patience. Further inquiry leads me to feel very doubtful about two men; one is employed in the galley, the other is a foremast hand. Both are Swedes.”

“But could they get into the cabin?”

“Oh, easily! Every one knows the plan of the ship, and there would be no difficulty in dodging into an empty cabin. Frankly,” said the captain, “it is a relief to me to find suspicion directed away from the passengers; it’s a much easier matter to tackle a foremast hand with alien tendencies. The sailor was seen last night under somewhat queer circumstances; he was in a part of the ship where he had no business. He gave a fairly lame excuse.”

“What time was that, Captain?” Jim asked.

“A little after three. It might mean nothing—but putting everything together, the matter is suspicious. We’ll set a watch to-night, in two places?”

“Can we be in it?” came from Jim and Wally, simultaneously.

The captain looked questioningly at Mr. Linton.

“Oh, I leave it to you, Captain!” said that gentleman; “I can’t keep them in cotton-wool.”

“And after all, it’s their find—if it be a find,” said the captain. “At least, it’s Miss Norah’s—but I can’t very well let you watch!” He smiled at Norah.

“It’s awful to be a girl!” said she, lugubriously. “But I suppose it can’t be helped. You’ll tell me all about it, won’t you?”

“You shall know all!” said the captain, dramatically. “Well, one watch must be kept in the empty cabin you are using for a dressing-room—cheer up, Miss Norah, we’ll give you another. You boys can watch there, if you like. Then I will have men posted further aft, also in an empty cabin; and a special watch kept on deck.”

“And if we see the flashes?”

“Report to Mr. Dixon. Both watches will close up on the alley-way leading to the cabin, and we’ll burst the door in. I’m having the hinges specially fixed, so that the screws will give, if necessary. If any one is there, he must be caught red-handed, or not at all. It’s a mercy that the cabin is unoccupied and that no one has any right to be there—to break violently in upon a feminine passenger doing nothing more deadly than using a spirit-lamp to heat curling-tongs, would lead to unpleasantness with the powers that be, at home!”

“I guess it was more than that,” Wally remarked.

“Oh, of course it was! Still, it may be capable of some very simple explanation; don’t run away with the idea that we have really an alien on board.” The captain smiled. “I know you want a scalp—but I don’t know that I do. And, in any case, I want to keep the matter from the other passengers. That sort of thing only leads to nervousness and excitement and I’m especially pleased in the present state of affairs, that my passengers show no signs of getting ‘jumpy’ over war risks. Coming out, there was a lady who used to consult the officers several times a day on the probability of being sunk, and she got on our nerves.”

“She would,” said Jim. “We shan’t speak of it, Captain. But can you keep it dark, if we make a capture?”

“Oh, I think so. Everything leads me to suspect one of the two Swedes; and the temporary disappearance of a hand may be easily explained to the rest of the crew, while the passengers need never hear about it. Lots of things occur on a voyage about which it isn’t necessary to inform the passengers,” said the captain, with a twinkle. “They’re all very good, of course—but they have such a way of asking questions!”

“There’s so little else to do,” said Norah, laughing—“and such heaps of questions to ask!”

“Quite so,” agreed the captain. “Well, lest you should ask me any more just now, let’s have the music-box.” He opened the gramophone, and gave himself to melody.

Later, on their way to dress for dinner, they passed a tall, fair-haired sailor, busily cleaning paint. He looked up at the merry group, with a surly face.

“That’s a Swede, I know,” Wally said, when they were safely out of hearing. “I wonder if he’s one of the suspects.”

“If he is, he’ll be an awkward man to tackle,” Mr. Linton said. “You will have to be careful, boys; don’t run unnecessary risks in the way of going for him single-handed. That fellow is as strong as a bull.”

Jim and Wally passed over this sage advice in the airy way of boyhood.

“It really looks very likely,” said the former. “He’s probably pro-German; and it’s quite a reasonable thing to suppose that he may be in the pay of Germans in Australia, and has simply joined the ship in the hope of signalling our whereabouts to an enemy cruiser.”

“Yes—wouldn’t he get a nice bonus for us!” Wally added. “And a free trip for himself to Germany—to say nothing of the fact that he may be carrying information about the transports. Scissors!—don’t I hope we’ll get him!”

But the watch that night proved fruitless. Jim and his chum spent long comfortless hours in the little cabin near Norah’s, taking turns at the port-hole; further up, Mr. Dixon, very bored and cold, shared a similar vigil with an elderly quartermaster. But no queer flashes of light came from the port-hole between them; nor had the watch on deck anything to report. It was a disconsolate trio that met on deck next morning.

“Never mind,” Norah said, comforting. “He may have been too sleepy. He’ll be there to-night.”

He was not there, however. Again the weary night brought no satisfaction. Jim and Wally, heavy-eyed and yawning, gave up the watch towards daybreak, and sought their bunks thankfully, unable to keep awake any longer.

Mr. Dixon was sarcastic at the expense of the amateur detectives.

“Too much reading of penny-dreadfuls, and visiting picture-shows,” said he, acidly. “I’ve heard that it makes people think in melodrama, and it also appears to make them see weird flashes that aren’t there!”

“They were there!” said Wally, hotly. “We all three saw them.”

“I’m sure you thought you did,” said the chief officer, with a soothing note that was more irritating than acidity. “Now you must keep a good look-out for the sea-serpent; that’s a daylight affair, and doesn’t necessitate extra night-watches.” He yawned cavernously. “No more sitting up for me, thank goodness!—the old man reckons this business is a frost.”

The captain bore out this statement, in terms less calculated to hurt.

“We have to consider the possibility of a mistake,” he told them. “And I can’t keep men out of bed indefinitely. The officer of the watch will have special instructions for vigilance! I think that some underhand business was going on, but that the interruption on the first night scared the offender permanently.” Whereat Wally groaned with extreme bitterness.

“Cheer up!” Jim said, smiting him on the back in the privacy of their cabin. “I’m not going to give in; if he’s there, we’ll get him yet.” But though they watched as much as youth and sleepiness would let them, the nights went by, and there was no further appearance of the mysterious signals.