I stood with my head up until the boat had whisked Brack out of sight, then slumped down in despair upon a convenient boulder. I was horrified and frightened. My thoughts had cleared by now and the full significance of what I had seen, heard, and undergone came to me. Brutal robbery, probably murder; such was the sum and substance of Brack’s plans. The expedition and the Wanderer turned in the tools of a piracy which would have been unbelievable with any other man than the captain! And Miss Baldwin back there on the yacht, ignorant of the morning’s happenings, unsuspecting of Brack’s true character, and I helpless to warn her or be of any assistance.
Brack would keep up the pretense. He would be the smooth-talking captain this morning as if nothing untoward had happened, or was going to happen. He would maintain this pose until he had accomplished the robbery, until it pleased him to drop it. And after this morning I knew that he would go to any lengths to fulfil his will.
“Cold?” sneered Barry as I shivered. “Well, don’t worry, sissy, Cap’ll make it warm enough for you when he gets ready to ’tend to you.”
I turned to plead with him, and he laughed delightedly at the fear and wretchedness in my face. For I was afraid. This was no place for me. It was all too strange, too harsh. I was literally sick at my stomach; and yet I knew all the time that I was going to try to warn those unsuspecting miners whom Captain Brack planned to catch in their mine like rats in a pit. Heaven knows I did not wish to do it! In my heart I protested against the Fate that had placed such a task to my lot. I was unfit for it. Somebody else, more used to such things, should have had the job.
I would have pleaded with Barry, have sought to bribe him, but the expression on his vicious countenance made me hold my tongue. What could I do? This sort of thing was new to me; how did one go about it?
I thought of the two miners delving away in their shafts, of them suddenly looking up to find Brack grinning down at them. The unfairness of the thing was revolting. Did men do such things to their fellows in this day and age?
I glanced at Barry and his rifle and knew that they did. Craft and brutality, those were the laws governing this situation. And craft and brutality soon began to enter my thoughts as readily as they might enter those of Brack, Garvin, or the lout who was guarding me.
At my feet lay several stones the size of a man’s fist. Presently I feigned sleepiness, nodded, and slipped from the boulder to a seat on the sand.
“Sleepy, eh?” Barry sneered. “You’re a fine piece o’ cheese.”
“I’m sick,” I muttered. “My head aches.”