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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

"
"And Herman--has n't he got on board yet?"
"Oh, yes; two hours, or more, ago. He has the deck watch, while the
Creole is below. Anything else you desire explained?"
"You think you 're smart, but you 'll sing a different song before I 'm
through," he snarled. "I 'm hungry, and I want to know why that
Dutchman did n't come down here and report."
"You 'll have to stand the hunger for awhile. As to Herman, I suppose
he had nothing to tell. Well, I 've wasted time enough."
I replaced the gag, and took a survey of the cabin to make sure all was
secure. Uncomfortable as the man was, he was not in the slightest
danger, and I felt little tenderness. He would not remain long
undiscovered after we got away, and our only possible safety required
harsh methods. Nothing had occurred in the outer cabin during my
absence, but the growing shadows evidenced the approach of twilight.
In those waters night came quickly. Locking the Captain's door, I
entered my own stateroom, and sat down on the lower berth to wait,
leaving my door slightly ajar. The cabin grew constantly darker,
although outside, through the open port, I could still distinguish
gleams of light along the water surface, and the heights of the island.
Herman came down, and entered his stateroom, but without closing the
door.


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