“I’ll give no parole. I’d a deal sooner drown here than hang on shore. You can do just as you please about releasing me. It’s a matter of indifference to me.”
The officer tried to protest.
“I don’t want your death on my shoulders, Mr. Howard,” he muttered. “Don’t put me to it.”
Howard laughed sardonically.
“What the devil do I care about your shoulders?” he demanded. “Turn me loose, quick, or get out. Your company isn’t exhilarating, my good Jackson.”
Both men had raised their voices so as to be heard above the boom of the storm. As Howard ceased, there came an impact heavier than before, followed by faint, despairing shrieks.
With an oath, Jackson felt his way to the voice and bent over the berth in which his prisoner was lying. “Curse you!” he snarled. “For two cents I’d take you at your word and let you drown. But I can’t. Here!”
The clink of a key and the rattle of metal told that the handcuffs fell away.
“You’re loose now,” continued the officer. “But, by Heaven, if you try to escape, I’ll see that you don’t miss the death you say is welcome. Come on.”
Howard swung his legs over the edge of the berth.