“But we must do something.�
He lifted his chin and stared at the funnel and the pilot-house. He turned and counted the small-boats. His eyes darted swiftly over the superstructure. They fastened finally upon a companion with a handrail. It led downward to the engine-room. A grimy Dutch coal-passer was leaning over the rail, smoking a pipe. His shirt was open to the waist. His belt was a black-tarred rope’s end.
“I’ve got it!� said Fay, suddenly. “See where that
hatch leads? Look, Saidee! It leads to the stoke-hold and the engine-room.�
“To the bottom of the ship?�
“Yes.�
“Well?�
“I’m going around the deck and count the boats. I don’t think there are but four. There’s not more than six or seven passengers. The crew can’t number over fifteen—counting the engineers and the stokers. Twenty or twenty-two souls—all told. We’ll get Dutch Gus out into the open where we can handle him. Come on!â€�
“Are you going to leave him alone?�
“Yes! He won’t trust that cipher-key to anybody. It’s sealed. He won’t open it. He’s certainly got it with him. It’ll be with him when the crash happens. Go to your cabin. I want you to stay there till I come for you.�