SECRET IN SEVEN FATHOMS.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 61, Issue 58, 18 December 1940, Page 7

SECRET IN SEVEN FATHOMS.

:: (Copyright).

SBy MARTIN FRASER. Influence of a “Dead” Ship.

CHAPTER VI

“I can smell ’em,” said Charlie, darkly. - .. The Captain didn’t ask for further particulars. He had had experience before of Charlie’s intuition in such matters.

REPLY TO M-ENACE.

‘Me? Give you a hundred pounds? You’re mad! Why should I?” Farrant took a step nearer and laid one hand on the arm of Captain Seaton. “Because I know a thing or two about the wreck in the bay, Skipper. That’s why!” Seaton was as’ rigid as a statue, his face set like a mask. Many a shellback had seen that hard, defiant expression when his captain was facing some terrible peril. And that was just 'what the skipper was doing then—confronting a worse menace than ever he had knocked up against at sea. Blackmail! And Farrant knew something ! If Farrant- expected the seaman to start bluffing and threatening, he was very much mistaken.

“If he comes nosing round' again, let me know,” he said. “Aye,’.’ returned Charlie. “I’ll keep my weather eye open, cap’n. Don’t you worry.” >• “I’ve got to worry,” retorted Seaton. “Farrant knows something.”

Charlie took his clay pipe from his cracked lips and stared at the skipper. “He—knows something?” he echoed. “Cap’ll, if that swab knows anything at all, it’s how to live soft.” The Captain: shook his head. “It’s blackmail. Demanded a. hundred quid by to-morrow night. What does that sound like?” Charlie whistled softly. “Here’s on to something.” “But on to what?” asked Seaton. “I tried to make him say what he. knew. But he wasn’t giying anything away, and I dared not .say too, much.” Charlie rose from the roller. He was old and bent, but there was still a, deal of strength in his broad shoulders and huge biceps. His gnarled hands were knotted with muscle. His hooked fingers were like wire hooks. Many a time they had clawed frozen reef points in a taut canvas during a sou-caster off the Horn.

Seaton came a step nearer. His hands were thrust into the side pockets of his reefer jacket. “So you know something, do you?” he echoed, in a hoarse whisper. “How much?”

He was neither confirming nor denying anything. Farrant’s lip curled with conscious triumph. He had the older man just where he wanted him—so he thought. “Enough to sink you,” he retorted. “Need I say moije?” “Yes!’ snapped the Captain. “Lots more, you rat! You’ll say what you know.”

“If I’d ha’ been there, cap’in, I’d ha’ squeezed his rotten neck till he did say something.” 9 “I’d ha’ done the same, only he’d ha’ yelped, and there were people about lower down the cliff.”

Farrant shook his head.. “I’m not giving it all away. You know what I know!”

The Captain paced to and fro in his agitation. “All these years, Charlie, we’ve lived up here without a worry or a scare. Now, all of a. sudden., things are happening.” Charlie sat down again on the roller.

“D'o I?” The Captain was itching to slam his hard fists into the rogue’s face.

“You know you do.” “I want you to tell me what you know.” Seaton’s voice took on a commanding tone. “Tell me! Out with it!”

“That Farrant rat don’t scare me none,” he announced. “‘Let him come here again. I’ll handle ’im with me bnye ’ands. I ain’t ’ad a, decent set to not for years. I remember once, cap’n, I was in a tough joint on the ’ Frisco waterfront—’ ’

Farrant felt some of his self-confi-dence oozing away from, him. No,t for nothing had S'eaton commanded ships and tough crews He could handle men. He was scaring Farrant. “You’ll say what you know!” he snarled. One hand shot out and grabbed Farrant by the jacket. The old man’s strength was surprising, Farrant swayed to and fro, helplessly. “Let go !” he gasped. “If you don’t—

‘“Stow the yarns,” growled the skipper. “I’ve heard ’em all before.” He was dropping back to, his sea-faring jargon, and checked himself. “Charlie we’re in a spot. There’s Farrant. He’s on to something. Who told him?” “These Enstport folk ’ave been: guessin’ for years,” said Charlie, disgustedly. “Why start worrying now? Farrant don’t count, cap’n. It’s that yacht bloke what’s got me puzzled.” The skipper stared at a prize dahlia with glinting eyes. “Ay,” he said. “That’s right. He’d ha’ sailed out o’ harbour in my Wake, but I fouled him. Sailed slam across his bows with the motor going, and forced him to put up his helm and lose the wind. Didn’t want him followin’ me on that trip.” Charlie scowled! and spat noisily. “So that was his game? Followin’, eh?”

“What could you do?” sneered the Captain, scornfully. “You miserable rat! Coming up here to blackmail me! For two pins I’d throw you over the cliff!”

Instinctively Farrant edged atw'ay from the brink. But he took a grip on himself and checked his fears. “You’ll pay, and like it!” he said, harshly. “You’re not living up here on nothing. Where’s your money coming from ? You sneer at me not working for my living. What about you? What are you living, on? Tell me that?”

“Not a doubt about it. And since 1 fooled him he comes nosing up here. Why?” Charlie was grimly silent. “And,” continued the Captain, gruffly, “Sylvia /met a man who .said /he knew me and might call on me. He had a mole on his right cheek, under his eye.” “Thunder!” gasped Charlie. He was on his feet again, glowering menacingly. “You mean to say —” Seaton nodded. “S’posing Fan-ant’s- met ’-im?” exclaimed Charlie.

The skipper’s face was livid with rage.

“By thunder! You’d start that racket, would you? Listening to all the idle gossip, Jin Eastpoi’t, then come up here to bleed me white! So that’s your game, is it?”.- .

“That’s my game. The irisiyanco companies would like to know what I know.”

Seaton laughed hollowly. “Insurance companies! And! I’ve been living for 17 years on what the insurance companies paid out over the ‘Lynd'en Glen.’ Why, you fool, you know nothing!” “I know I got you jittery!” Farrant (retorted. “And I haven’t told you all I know. You’ll pay! You’ll have the money here by to-morrow night. That’s what!” ,

“WE MUST KEEP WATCH TONIGHT.”

It was feasible. No one could roam around Eastport for long without knocking up against strangers. There wa\sa fierce glint in the Captain’s eyes. . “They’re on to us, Charlie!” he said. “Looks that way,” agreed the bo’sun. “What do we do?” “We must keep watch to-night. Funny that Farrant should come demanding a hundred quid to-night-after I’ve been out in the boat.” “I didn’t hitch on to that,” growled Charlie. “Did you get the money?” The Skipper patted a side pocket of his-reefer jacket. “I got it. How long it’ll last at this rate I. don’t know. But maybe that’s what they’re after.” Charlie gazed around the garden but saw nothing suspicious. “Shall I take first watch?” “Yes. I need sleep. I’ll relieye you at midnight.” Charlie picked up his hoe and rested it close handy by the shed door. “I’ll be ready for ’em if they start anything,” he said. “Midnight, then,” said the skipper. “Midnight it is,” echoed Charlie. Seaton went on into the house, where Sylvia, in the dining room, was waiting for him. “You’ve been a long time coming up from the harbour,” she said, “I saw your boat come in a long time, ago.” “Maybe you did,” he sneered. “When you were yarning with that meddling yachting chap.” He saw the colour mounting in her cheeks.

“I won’t pay you a cent, so lay to that!” he said, curtly. “Now, get opt of here before I smash that grin off your face. And mind this, you cheap skate, if I see you around this house again I’ll kick you out o’ my sight. Now; —get 1” The skipper roared the order as if he were on _his’ bridge again handling an insolent deck hand.

Farrant was caught in two minds. He wanted to bluff the thing out, but he was scared to the depths of his yellow heart. He knew he had handled the thing all wrong, yet he refused to admit defeat.

“All right,” he growled. “I’m going. But I’m coming back again—for the dough!” “You won’t get it. March, before I use my boot on you!” Farrant hacked out, mouthing threats. The Captain watched him go, a figure of righteous indignation.

Farrant had fumbled' the whole thing. A man like the skipper needed tact to; be handled properly. But Farrant told himself ovqr and over again that the Captain was bluffing and the money would be forthcoming. He was persuading’himself that it would be so, -while all the time he sensed he was not cut out for the role of crook. At least, not on a scale that called for cunning and' audacity. If he had only known it, the skipper was afraid. For all his grim bearing, he was afraid.

SYLVIA ASKS QUESTIONS. He watched Farrant shuffling off down the cliff path, then; slowly hie entered in at his own gate and wnlked up the garden path, his head down, deep in thought. He hesitated, paused, then turned off towards the garden shed. There, seated on the roller, was Charlie, the bo’sun. He rose respectfully at the approach of the Captain, and jerked a hand to the peak of liis cap. “Evenin’ cap’n. S'torhi brewin’?” “Blowin’ hard,” growled Seaton. He took his pipe from his pocket and filled Tip, slowly, thoughtfully. Charlie watched him, silent until the fragrant smoko was rising in clouds to the dusky roof of the shed; ~ * “That yachting bloke wtas ut> here to-night,” lie said. The Captain stiffened. “What for?” he asked.

“I suppose Charlie told -you.” “I don’t want that fellow hanging around after you. Sho stood there one hand leaning heavily on tho table, “Dad!’'’ she cried. “What’s the matter with you ? Am I not to talk to anyone?” He scowled at the question. He had plunged into deep waters, again. His forthright tongue had betrayed him. “He’s only a holiday maker. He’ll fool you with a glib tongue. He’ll go away and you’ll never see him again.” “I’m not quite a fool,” sho returned warmly.

He changed the subject a. trifle. “And that wit Farrant was up here, too. I saw him?”

“And spoke to him,” ho added, thickly. “That chap’s going to feel the weight o’ my fist before he’s much older. What have you been telling him?”

“Banged if I know. There he were a’settin’ on our gate. I was orderin’ him off when Miss Sylvia canre. along. She got a-talkin’ to him—just ordinary stuff —fine weather, and all that. Sort o’ got along together grandly.” Seaton took a pace or two on the path outside the shed door. “If only I kenw what he wants around here,” he muttered. “He ain’t a cop,” declared Charlie. “How d’you know?”

“Dad!” she cried. “What could I tell, him?” “How do I know? I want to know what you told him ?”

“And I ask you, what could I tell him? What do you mean? What’s the matter with you? What’s going on here? Can’t I do anything at all without some sort of trouble?”

His glinting eyes were studying her intently. All he saw was honest bewilderment.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Reckon I’m overtired. Forget it.” “That’s not so easy,” she argued. “After .all, I. think an explanation is due ”

“I. said, forget it!” he rapped,

She lapsed into a disciplined silence. She knew, from the tone of his voice, that it would be dangerous to pursue tho subject. He was in one of his awkward moods.

Perhaps, in tho morning, when he was calmer, sho would talk to him again.

These recurring arguments and veiled attacks, these hints of mystery and danger, were getting on her nerves.

(To he Continued.)