The Chief Mate's Yarns: Twelve Tales of the Sea

by T. Jenkins Hains

"That's for us to find out—I don't know."

As we came in, a dozen boats came to meet us. The police took charge, and the two prisoners were ironed and taken ashore. The schooner was put in charge of detectives, and no one allowed aboard her.

We went back to the ship in our boat, and reported the capture of the men, but the loss of the money. Whereat Captain Hall was so angry that he would not speak to me that day. I felt that I had done what I could and that I was not at fault.

I could do no less—nor no more, for that matter. I went below, and the ship went on to her dock, the passengers were sent ashore, and the dull routine of the lay-up began.

I had some time now to myself, and studied the situation carefully. It would be a month before the trial, and we would have made another voyage before then. I was served, however, with a subpœna to appear as a principal witness, and I put the paper away and took up the study of the case with vigor.

The three men aboard the schooner who had acted as crew were not in the game. That was evident, for they proved to be just plain fishermen who had chartered their craft to the doctor upon an agreement made on his former voyage. He had planned the coup, and made the vessel ready for the getaway. That was certain. The men were discharged.

Every portion of the schooner capable of hiding a gold piece was thoroughly probed. Even her masts were bored at intervals, and she was hauled out and her keel searched for a hollow that might contain the treasure. Everything that men could do was apparently done. But not a sign of gold.

The two men, the doctor and his accomplice, were sent to trial, and had the best lawyer in England to defend them, a man who did not work for small amounts. I noted that fact and waited.

They were sent up for two years each solely on the circumstantial evidence that they had occupied the room above the safe on that voyage and that if any one had committed the theft upon a former voyage it must necessarily have been discovered, as the safe was thoroughly cleaned and refilled with a new cargo of gold for that single trip.

The schooner was sold at auction by the fishermen who owned her, as they were afraid to run her under the continual scrutiny which the company put upon her. She was broken up and her gear sold for junk. That was the end of her.