"Why do you connect him with the present enterprise?" the captain asked. "Because," Crawshay answered, "the wireless message of which your man Robins took no record, and concerning which you have kept silence at my request, was delivered to Mr. Jocelyn Thew. Because, too," he went on, "it is my very earnest belief that at somewhere in the small hours of this morning there will be another message, and Mr. Jocelyn Thew will be on deck to receive it." The captain knocked out the ashes of his pipe a little apprehensively. "If half what you suspect is true, Mr. Crawshay," he said, "you will forgive my saying so, but Jocelyn Thew is not a man you ought to tackle without assistance." There was a peculiar glitter in Crawshay's deep-set eyes. For a single moment a new-born strength seemed to deepen the lines in his face--a transforming change. "You needn't worry, Captain," he remarked coolly. "I am not taking too many chances, and if our friend Mr. Jocelyn Thew should turn out to be the man I believe him to be, I would rather tackle him alone." "Why," Mr. Dix demanded, "should anything in the shape of violence take place? The ship can be searched, every article of baggage ransacked, and every passenger made to run the gauntlet." Crawshay smiled. "The search you speak of is already arranged for, Mr. Dix," he said; "long cables from my friend Hobson have already reached Liverpool--but the efficacy of such a proposed search would depend a little, would it not, upon whether we reach Liverpool?" "But if we were submarined," the captain pointed out, "the papers would go to the bottom." Crawshay leaned forward and whispered one word in the captain's ear. The latter sat for a moment as though paralysed. "What's to prevent that fellow Robins bringing her right on to our track?" Crawshay demanded. "That is the reason I spent last night listening for the wireless. It's the reason I'm going to do the same to-night." The captain sprang to his feet. "We'll run no risks about this," he declared firmly. "We'll dismantle the apparatus. I'd never hold up my head again if the _Von Blucher_ got us!" Crawshay held out his hand. "Forgive me, Captain," he said, "but we want proof. Leave it to me, and if things are as I suspect, we'll have that proof--probably before to-morrow morning," he added, glancing at the chart. There was a call down the deck, a knock at the door. The captain took up his oilskins regretfully. "You will remember," Crawshay enjoined, "that little mandate I showed you?" The captain nodded grimly. "I am in your hands," he admitted. "Don't forget that the safety of the ship may be in your hands, too!" "Perhaps," Crawshay whispered, "even more than the safety of the ship." CHAPTER IX