Adventure stories; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction; Love stories; Mutiny -- Fiction; Sea stories
"And meant to keep it. But you'd have been an uncertain factor, a weak
link. You might have given it away in your sleep. You heard enough to
figure the general locality of the island when Lund blurted it out. You
knew too much. Suppose the _Karluk_ fought up to Kotzebue Bay and found
a dozen power-vessels hanging about, waiting for us to lead them to the
beach? And we'd have worried all the way up, with you loose. You're a
newspaperman. The suppression of this yarn would have obsessed you, lain
on your reportorial conscience.
"I don't suppose your salary is much over thirty a week, is it? Now,
then, here you are in for a touch of real adventure, better than
gleaning dock gossip, to a red-blooded man. If we win--and you saw the
gold--_you_ win. We expect to give you a share. We haven't taken it up
yet, but it'll be enough. More than you'd earn in ten years, likely,
more than you'd be apt to save in a lifetime. We kidnapped you for your
own good. You're a prisoner _de luxe_, with the run of the ship."
"I can work my passage," said Rainey. He could see the force of the
doctor's argument, though he didn't like the man. He didn't trust the
doctor, though he thought he'd play fair about the gold. But it was
funny, his assuming control.
"Yachted a bit?" asked Carlsen.
"Yes."
"Can you navigate?"
Rainey thought he caught a hint of emphasis to this question.
"I can learn," he said. "Got a general idea of it."
"Ah!" The doctor appeared to dismiss the subject with some relief.
"Well," he went on, "are you open to reason--and food? I'm sorry about
your friends and folks ashore, but you're not the first prodigal who has
come back with the fatted calf instead of hungry for it."
"That part of it is all right," said Rainey. There was no help for the
situation, save to make the most of it and the best. "But I'd like to
ask you a question."
"Go ahead. Have a cigarette?"
Rainey would rather have taken it from any one else, but the whiff of
burning tobacco, as Carlsen lit up, gave him an irresistible craving for
a smoke. Besides, it wouldn't do for the doctor to know he mistrusted
him. If he was to be a part of the ship's life, there was small sense
in acting pettishly. He took the cigarette, accepted the light, and
inhaled gratefully.
"What's the question?" asked Carlsen.
"You weren't on the last trip. You weren't in on the original deal. But
I find you doing all the talking, making me offers. You drugged me on
your own impulse. Where's the skipper? How does he stand in this matter?
Why didn't he come to see me? What is your rating aboard?"
"You're asking a good deal for an outsider, it seems to me, Rainey. I
came to you partly as your doctor. But I speak for the captain and the
crew. Don't worry about that."
"And Lund?" Rainey could not resist the shot. He had gathered that the
doctor resented Lund.
Carlsen's eyes narrowed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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