"Listen, Bermondsey," he growled, wiping his forehead: "Ay am afraid dere has been a mistake. Ay 'tank you haff smack de wrong men. Ay—"
"Ho?" inquired the Terror. His smile deepened. He Willed his head and closed one eye portentously. 'I sorter thought so, d'yer see, when I see 'oo they wos." Shaken by hoarse mirth, he winked again. "Never yer mind, Guv'nor. Did me good, that workout. Wot's the game? I sorter thought there wos something up when first I see somebody go into the sawbones' room and come out with the green jule thing as that gentleman's got now," he nodded at Morgan, who had disentangled himself from Mrs. Perrigord, "and then I see you two take it back. None o' my ruddy bursness, yer see, till you asks for 'elp."
Again he laughed hoarsely. Morgan, to whom had come a glimmer of hope that might avert Peggy's insane idea, took it up.
"Look here, Bermondsey. About those two robbers— just how much damage did you do to them?"
The Terror smiled complacently. He counted a few Imaginary stars, closed his eyes, and uttered a snore.
"Out," inquired Morgan.
"Cold," said the Terror.
"Did they see you? Would they know you again, I mean?"
"Ho!" said the Terror. "Not them! Wosn't no light, yer see. 'Ad ter strike a match ter tear the watches orf 'em. Ho-ho-ho!"
"Bermondsey," said Warren, enthusiastically, as the other stared dully at his costume, "I want to shake your hand. I also want to offer you a drink of champagne… What's on your mind, Hank?"
Morgan had begun to stalk about excitedly. He picked up the watches and examined them. Then he put them down on the couch with the emerald elephant.
"If this idea works out," he said, swinging round, "then there'll be no need to he under a heap of marionettes and play dead for two days. Nor will there be any need to go to the brig, either, for any of us except Curt… "
"That's fine," said Warren. "That's great. Well, all I've not to say is, and I take my oath on it, I am not going back lo that damned padded cell, whatever happens! Get me? furthermore—"
"Shut up, will you? — and listen! You'll need to go back for not more than an hour. The whole point is, Captain Whistler doesn't know you're out of the brig, does he? Right. Now don't interrupt. So what have we got? We've got in Bermondsey a witness who can definitely prove we were not stealing that emerald out of Kyle's cabin, but were returning it, together with Kyle's papers. Our witness needn't say anything about Curt's having taken it from there. Then—"
"Ahoy dere!" protested Valvick. "Coroosh! you are not going to try to see Barnacle now, are you?"
"Listen! Then this is the way it's to be done:
"Peggy takes the note-cases, watches, and the rest of it, including the emerald. She goes to Whistler and says, 'Captain, do you know what the two people you thought were thieves have done? They've saved your bacon and saved the emerald when it was nearly stolen a second time.'
«She then tells a story of how, as we were passing by, the skipper and I saw a mysterious masked stranger—" i "Horse feathers!" said Warren, with some definiteness.
"You're drunk."
Morgan steadied himself. "All right, we'll omit the mask then. We saw this stranger sneaking out of Kyle's cabin
laden with Kyle's papers and the emerald. We set on him; i and, although he got away without our learning who he was, we retrieved the whole thing… "A howl of protest arose, and Morgan regarded them sardonically. "Actually, the reason why you oppose it is that you want to hide in with the marionettes and put on that damned show, don't you? Isn't that true?"
"Yes, ay know," Valvick growled stubbornly, "but what about dem getting beaten up?"
"That's part of it. You don't honestly imagine even old Whistler would believe we'd pinch his watch and cufflinks, do you? Very welclass="underline" Admittedly we were in a bad t position and acted hastily when we ran out on him. But our mythical crook, who was ever in attendance, is on the watch; and, thinking Whistler's got the emerald from us, bursts in. By the use of a bottle as a weapon — that's Whistler's own story, remember, and he's got to stick to it whether he believes it or not — the crook lays low the captain and the second officer, and he makes a clean haul of everything…
He stopped, feeling that the story sounded thin even to his own ears; yet also convinced that their own plan was even more impracticable. It was a case of Mephistopheles in deep water, a toss-up of two insanities, but at least his scheme might do something towards soothing the gigantic wrath of Captain Whistler. Warren grunted.
"And then you and Valvick attack this crook again, I suppose?" he asked. "Hank, it's the bunk. I'm surprised at you."
"No! You don't understand, The crook, groggy from (upturn Whistler's powerful smashes, staggers away to full. We, roused by the noise, return. We find the plunder again. At first we daren't take it to Whistler, knowing what he'll think. But Peggy, seeing we have nothing to fear from our noble conduct, persuades us—"
He saw that Valvick was wavering and scratching his chin, and said desperately:
"Let's put it to a vote. We do this, while Curt returns to the brig and pacifies Woodcock by a definite promise to get him the testimonial. Listen!" An inspiration struck him. "Do you realise that, while Captain Whistler's authority only extends over the high seas, Woodcock is a private citizen and can prosecute in the civil courts? He can get n thousand pounds damages for that, and he's not got any false dignity to restrain him. Do you want to go to jail, Curt? Well, if you leave Woodcock tied up there much longer — and they may not discover him until to-morrow— he'll be so wild that a bug-powder testimonial from the President himself wouldn't keep him quiet. For God's sake, get the champagne out of your brains for three seconds mid think! You needn't stay in the brig any longer than you like, Curt. Whistler's promised to let you out."
"I still vote No," said Warren. A babble of voices arose, while they got together in the middle of the cabin waving their arms and shouting. Mrs. Perrigord said it was oil owfully clever, and she voted as Henry did.
"Eee! Stop it!" cried Peggy, clapping her hands to her ears. "Listen. Let me talk. I'll admit I think it would be rather nice to go to the captain and make goo-goo eyes ai him, sort of. Wait! But we'll let it rest on Uncle Jules and — I don't care what you say, he's my uncle, and I won' have him g-guyed because they s-say he's too drunk to—'
"Steady now!" said Warren, as she shook her fist! desperately.
"… to play. And we'll let it rest at that. If he's sober enough to play inside of, say fifteen minutes or half at hour, we can hold the curtain until then; we'll adopt Hank's idea. If not, then we'll carry on as we'd intended… What's that noise?" She broke off suddenly. Her smeary eyes travelled past Morgan's shoulder and widened. Then she screamed.
"Where," said Peggy, "is Uncle Jules?"
The door of the cabin was lightly banging with the slight roll of the ship.
Uncle Jules was gone. Also missing were the watches the cuff-links, the note-case, the studs, and the emerald elephant.
19 — Indiscretions of Uncle Jules
The Moorish warrior removed his spiked helmet and flung U on the floor.
"Sunk!" he said wildly. "Sunk! Done brown. Come on, lake our vote if we want to, but we can't do either one thing or the other now. I'm getting sick of this. What's the Hint ter with the old soak? Is he a kleptomaniac?"
"You let him alone!" cried Peggy. "He can't help it. lie's drunk, poor darling. Oh, why didn't I think? He's done it before. Only mostly it's only motor-car keys, and there's not an awful lot of harm done, in spite of what awful people say…"