I looked up at Wilson. His eyes had widened a little. He swung around and began to pace the bridge. He knew what his duty was; he would do it no matter what went on between captain and crew.
“It’s getting chilly,” said Pierce.
We retired to the wireless house. Pierce shut the door and stared at me.
“Now what—now what do you make of that, Brains?”
I shook my head. I, too, felt inclined to shiver.
“Something’s wrong, Brains, something’s wronger than a fixed fight. The captain’s framing something. He’s let Garvin in on it. What is it—what is it? Can you dope it out?”
“No. Perhaps you’re mistaken.”
“Don’t talk that way; you know better’n that. Come to bat. Didn’t you hear him say this’d get him more’n he ever got in a fight? Garvin’s got thousands. The cap’s framed something, and he’s taken Garvin in. Now, what is it? I’ve had a hunch something was going on. I’m all ice below the ankles. What d’you s’pose they’re going to do? By God! I wouldn’t put it past ’em to steal the yacht!”
“Easy, Pierce,” I laughed. “People don’t do such things nowadays.”
“‘People don’t’? D’you call Brack and Garvin ‘people’? Garvin’s a gorilla and the captain’s—Brack. Come on. Brains, can’t you dope out what they’re framing?”