Warren sat up, impressed by this new thought. "By the Way, Baby, whose cabin did you throw it in, anyway?"
"How should I know?" she asked, rather defensively. "I don't know who has every cabin on the deck. It was just a convenient porthole, and I sort of obeyed the impulse. What difference does it make?"
"Well, I was only wondering… " He peered at the light, at a corner of the roof, at the wardrobe door. "I— that is, I don't suppose by any chance you heaved it on somebody to whom it would — er — prove a temptation?"
"Caroosh!" said Captain Valvick.
By one accord they looked at Morgan. The latter would have immensely enjoyed the throne to which this trio of
genial idiots had elected him, that of Brains in the combine to catch the joker, if it were not for that disturbing, nagging doubt which was apparently shared by none of hi* lieutenants. He did not want to examine that berth, and yet he knew he must. Meanwhile his lieutenants— ready to go off at any new tangent, and obsessed now with enial idiots had elected him, that of Brains in the combine to catch the joker, if it were not for that disturbing, nagging doubt which was apparently shared by none of hi* lieutenants. He did not want to examine that berth, and yet he knew he must. Meanwhile his lieutenants— ready to go off at any new tangent, and obsessed now with a thought which had nothing to do with the main problem — were regarding him in expectancy.
"Well," he said rather wearily, "if you really want to know whose cabin it is, that ought to be easy. Pick out the cabin that's attached to the porthole in which you threw that box (am I making myself clear?) and spot its number. Then look up the number in the passenger-list, and there you are… What porthole did you throw it, through, Peggy?" j
The girl opened her mouth eagerly and shut it again.] Her brows contracted. She wriggled, as though to assist! thought. J
"Dash it!" she said in a small voice. "I think — well, honestly, I don't remember."
8 — Blood Under a Blanket
War hen hopped up.
"But, Baby," he protested, "you've got to remember. Why shouldn't you remember? It's a cinch: there's a row Of portholes, and they're all near the companionway on (he starboard side. All right. You were standing near one, And all you've got to do is remember which one. Besides —" A new aspect of the matter struck him. "Say, I never thought of it before, but this is terrible! Suppose by some chance you slung that box into the criminal's cabin? By Jimlny!" said Warren, now almost convinced that this was the case, "he's got away with a lot, but I won't stand for this! I've got a score to settle with that guy… "
"Son," said Morgan, "permit me to suggest that we have enough difficulties on our hands without your imagining fresh ones. That's foolish! You're only getting the wind up about nothing."
"Yes, I know, but it bothers me," returned Warren, moving his neck uncomfortably. "The thought of that fellow getting away with a thing like that would make me wild. After he's walked in as easy as pie, and stolen my film, to have us deliberately hand him the emerald elephant as well!… Baby, you've got to remember which porthole it was! Then, if we went down to that cabin and sort of busted down the door, you see, and said, 'Hey, you!
Morgan lowered his head to cool it, and swallowed hard through a dry throat. Never before had he seen the true extent of American energy.
"So now," he said, "so now you want to go around breaking down doors, do you? Kindly reflect a moment, Curt. Consider what you have already done to Captain Whistler's blood pressure. You fathead, why don't you go up and smash down the captain's door and get put into a strait-waistcoat and have done with it? You said I was t give the orders, and I'm giving some now. You're to stay absolutely quiet. Do you understand?"
"Ay haf an idea," volunteered Captain Valvick, who was scratching his short sandy hair. "Coroosh! Ay yus t'ink of it. Suppose de port where you t'row dat elephant wass in de cabin of dat English duke which own de elephant in de first place? Corrrsh! But he iss going to be sur prised if he wake up in de morning and find it dere. Maybe he t'ink Captain Whistler hass got mad at him for somet'ing and come down in de night and t'row dat elephant back at him t'rough de port."
"No, that won't work," said Warren. "Old Sturton's got a suite on B deck. But we've got to find out who does sleep in that cabin. Think. Baby! Get your brain working."
Peggy's face was screwed up with intense concentration, She made slow gestures to bring the scene back.
"I've got it now," she said. "Yes, I'm sure. It was either the second or third porthole from the end of the wall where we were standing. They look so much alike and you ought to remember it yourself. But it was either the second or third porthole."
"You're absolutely sure of that, are you?"
"Yes, I am. I won't say which one, but I'll swear it was one of those two."
"Den dass all right," rumbled Valvick, nodding. "Ay go out right now and find de numbers on dem cabins, an< we look it up in de passenger-list. Also ay got anudder bottle of Old Rob Roy in my locker, and ay get it and we out of it a nightcap haff, hey? Yumping Yudas, but ay an t'irsty! Hold on. Ay won't be a minute."
Morgan protested in vain. The captain insisted that hi would only be a minute, and went out foraging, with the approval of the other two lieutenants. I
"… Also," Morgan continued, turning to them when Valvick had gone, "what the devil's the use of bothering about that emerald now? Has it occurred to you what happened in this place to-night? What about that woman! What happened to her?"
Warren made a savage gesture. "I've got it all figure mil," he snapped. "I knew it the minute we came back tit here, but I didn't very well see how I could tell old Popeye. We've been outsmarted, that's what. They got us Id full for that as neat as you please, and it's another thing that makes me mad… Why, that girl was our crook's accomplice, don't you see? They arranged it between them IN her to pull a fake faint, calling my name, mind you— which wasn't natural to begin with… "
"And you don't think the injury was real?"
"Of course it wasn't real. I read a story once about a bird who could suddenly make funny noises and go into a cataleptic fit, and while the doctor was poking him his gang came in and robbed the doctor's house. I thought it was a low-down dirty trick at the time; but that's what they've done. Yes, and don't you remember in your own looks, in Aconite in the Admiralty? where that detective What's-his-name gets into the master criminal's luxurious den in Downing Street, and they think they've stabbed Mm with the poisoned needle?"
"The literary formula," agreed Morgan, "is excellent. Still, I doubt it in this case. Granted that the crook was Watching us, knew where we were, and all that, I don't lee how it would help him much. He knew we'd certainly like the girl into one of these two cabins, so it wouldn't be much easier. It was only chance in old Whistler's coming In when he did, so that we were dragged away and the crook had a clear field."
Peggy also refused to listen to this line of argument. Warren had got out a damp package of cigarettes, and he and Peggy lit one while Morgan filled his pipe. The girl laid, between short puffs, as though she were rather angrily trying to get rid of the smoke:
"But, I say, it's going to be easy now, isn't it? It was father a dreadful bloomer on their part, wasn't it? Because We shall know that girl when we see her again, and then We've got 'em. She wasn't disguised, you know. She hardly had any make-up on, even. That reminds me — my compact. Give it me, Curt. I say I must look a sight! Anyway, We can't miss her. She's still aboard the boat."