“Right-o. That’s why I undertook it—in the first place.”
“That surely established an excellent motive, for a man in your sentimental frame of mind, at least.”
“Yes,” he said with a hollow laugh, “there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“And if the expedition is successful the results will be a credit to you—a genuine success—irrespective of what your motives might be.”
“Now you’re shouting, Gardy!” he cried vehemently, striking the desk. “The results, that’s what counts. Not the motive or the means. Who asks a winner why or how? Win out! Get what you want! That’s the idea. And, by Jove! What I want I get; and I want Betty Baldwin to be my wife!”
X
The Wanderer wallowed her faltering way northward, a new atmosphere of sinister suggestion about her spray-damped decks. Yet even now, with Chanler’s sudden confession ringing in my ears, I thought, not of him and his plans, not of the owner’s empty stateroom furnished for a woman, not of the Miss Baldwin mentioned, but of Brack. Brack was the great force on board. Chanler might plan well or evil; but it would be Brack’s will that would determine the fate of these plans, and of any one who came aboard. And I had not gaged Brack. Though by this time I was ready to credit him with Machiavellian cunning and power, my estimate of the man failed to do him full justice.
It was on the fourth day out that this conclusion was forced upon me. As Wilson had predicted, the weather remained rough and raw, and the Wanderer lifted and rolled leisurely through a smother of fog and spray from the long, slow North Pacific rollers.
In the middle of the afternoon the sun broke through for a period, the fog disappeared, and I climbed to the wireless deck to enjoy the cheeriness of unwonted sunshine and Pierce’s company combined. I found Pierce squatted on the starboard edge of the cabin roof, absorbed in watching the deck below. At the sound of my footsteps he looked up, grinned and crooked his finger for me to come to his side.
“Garvin’s out again,” he whispered. “He’s just come up from the aft on the starboard side. Brack’s forward just now, but he’s been hiking the starboard promenade for the last five minutes. He’s in a sweat again about our running half speed, and if Garvin doesn’t see him and duck they’re going to meet.”