"I only volunteered for to-day." Evan's tone implied that the future could take care of itself.

Dordess said deprecatingly: "I hope the boys haven't made you feel like an outsider."

"Not at all," said Evan cheerfully. "I wouldn't mind if they did," he added. "The main thing is for the kids to have a good time."

"Sure," said Dordess dryly. "You see, the boys get the idea that these excursions are a sort of family affair, and they're apt to resent the help of strangers."

"I see," said Evan. "Are you one of Miss Playfair's 'brothers' too?"

"No; I'm an uncle," said Dordess with his bitter smile.

He walked away. There had been nothing in his words to which Evan could take offence, nevertheless as plainly as one man could to another he had conveyed the intimation that Evan was not wanted on board, and that if he ventured on board again it would be at his peril.

"The brotherhood evidently fears that I'm going to break up the organization," thought Evan.

As they approached the end of their journey Evan began to consider what measures he should take upon landing. His part was a difficult one to play with good humour; that is, to force himself on a young lady who said she detested him, and who had half a dozen brothers and an uncle to take her part.

"She'll do her best to give me the slip," he said to himself. "When we tie up I'll stand by the gangway on the pretext of keeping the kids from falling overboard. Some of them or all of them will take her home, no doubt. I'll tag along, too. They can't very well openly order me away, and I don't give a d.a.m.n for their black looks and meaning hints. The main thing is to find out where she lives. I can choose my own time to call. Perhaps she won't open the door to me.

Well, my patience is good."

As they approached the pier Evan went down to the main deck. Corinna was not visible at the moment. Only the forward gangway of the _Ernestina_ was used. Her shape was so tubby that she couldn't bring any two points alongside a straight pier simultaneously. While they were making a landing all the children were kept roped off in the stern and up in the saloon. The only persons in the bow s.p.a.ce beside Evan were Denton, Anway, Domville, Tenterden, two other "brothers" and two deckhands to stand by the lines.

Up forward there was an additional stairway from the saloon. This was enclosed and had a door at the bottom, locked at the moment to keep the children out of the way. In the centre of the deck was a hatch for freight, used presumably when the _Ernestina_ served as a carrier.

As the steamboat sidled up to her pier Evan heard Corinna's voice call down the stairway: "Oh, Mr. Denton; will you come up here for a moment?"

Denton unlocked the door and disappeared upstairs. The door was locked after him. At the same moment Domville and one of the unidentified young men threw back the hatch cover. The latter said: "Let's get the cargo ash.o.r.e first."

Evan wondering what cargo the excursion boat could be carrying, stepped forward in idle curiosity to look down the hatch. Suddenly he became aware that the young men were circling behind him. Before he could so much as turn around, he was seized from each side and a hand clapped over his mouth. With a concerted rush they swept him into the hole in the deck, falling on their knees at the edge, and letting him drop in.

He fell on a mattress and was not in the least hurt. From above he heard a loud guffaw from the deckhands. Then the hatch cover was clapped down, and he heard heavy objects being piled upon it.

Evan raged silently in his prison. Pride restrained him from making any outcry. He had no fear that his murder was contemplated. They'd have to let him out again. In the meantime they'd get no change out of him. And the future could take care of his revenge.

He was in a small cargo s.p.a.ce between two transverse bulkheads. He could touch the beams over his head. The place was perfectly empty except for the mattress. The mattress suggested that this had been carefully planned. It was not dark, being lighted by a fixed porthole on either side, not much bigger than an orange. These lights were only a foot or two above the waterline, and when the _Ernestina_ reversed her engine in making the pier, the water washed up over the gla.s.s.

Evan could hear all the sounds attendant upon making a landing; the casting lines thrown ash.o.r.e, the hawsers pulled over the deck, the jingle to the engine room signalling that all was fast. Then the gangway was run out and the feet poured over it.

Evan found that through the porthole on the pier side he was able to catch a brief glimpse of the pa.s.sengers as they stepped ash.o.r.e. He saw the children scurry away, never dreaming that the admired story-teller was immured below. The big girls followed more sedately, and after them the mothers with backs sagging under the weight of babies. Last of all he had the unspeakable chagrin of seeing Corinna pa.s.s with Denton grasping her arm.

"That's why I was put down here," he thought. "To allow her to make her getaway."

In the fraction of a second that she was visible to him, her head was turned back towards the boat. When a woman glances over her shoulder her true feelings come out; she cannot help herself. There was anguish in Corinna's backward look. Evan marked it, but he did not love her then. Not that he meant to give over the pursuit; on the contrary he swore that she should pay.

Five minutes later the hatch cover was lifted, a short ladder was let down, and Evan was bidden to come up. He mounted smiling. What that smile cost him none but he knew. But he also knew that with six or more against him to show truculence would only have been to make himself ridiculous. He paused on the deck, and coolly looking around him, tapped a cigarette on the back of his hand.

Dordess was now with the others. He had the grace to look away, as Evan's glance swept around. The younger men betrayed in their faces their hope that Evan would show fight, and thus give them a chance to justify themselves. Evan saw it, and had no idea of gratifying them.

Tenterden, he of the hot black eyes, who seemed to be leader in this part of the affair demanded aggressively: "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"Much obliged for the mattress," said Evan, coolly meeting his gaze.

"Very thoughtful of you." He counted them ostentatiously. "Six of you--and a couple of deckhands in reserve. You flatter me, gentlemen!"

He strolled over the gangway. How they took it he did not know, for he would not look back. At least none of them found a rejoinder. He had the last word.

"They think they have me scared off," he said to himself. "Just let them wait till the _Ernestina_ sails again, that's all!"

CHAPTER XIII

A LITTLE DETECTIVE WORK

At first Evan had some doubts as to what ought to be his course of action in respect to Mrs. George Deaves. While it was true that her husband had definitely given him to understand that he was hired for the purpose of running down the blackmailers, he did not suppose that George Deaves would thank him for proof that his own wife was implicated. But that didn't alter his duty.

"I'm being paid to deliver them from the gang," he said to himself.

"As long as I take their money I've got to do what I can to earn it.

It's none of my affair where the trail leads. If they want to kick me out for my pains, why that's up to them."

It promised to be no easy matter to watch Mrs. Deaves. Evan rarely saw her. During the few hours that he spent in the house she was presumably either in her own rooms, or out in the motor. One suspicious circ.u.mstance he did not have to look for, because everybody in the house was aware of it. Maud Deaves was continually in money difficulties. Her creditors camped on her trail.

Two lines were open to Evan: to bribe her maid and to watch her letters. The maid, Josefa, was a light-headed creature perfectly willing to plot or counterplot with anybody. Unfortunately she was of very little use to Evan, because her mistress did not trust her in the least. As for the letters, it was scarcely likely that if Maud Deaves were carrying on a dangerous correspondence she would have the letters come openly to the house. Nevertheless Evan determined to get to the house early enough in the mornings to look over the first mail before it was distributed.

On the morning following his trip on the _Ernestina_ he found a letter addressed to her that gave him food for reflection. The address was typewritten. The envelope was of medium size "Irish linen" of the kind that never saw either Ireland or flax; in other words, just such an envelope as those which had brought the blackmailing letters. In itself this was nothing for many thousands of such envelopes are sold.

But it was postmarked "Hamilton Grange" and it was addressed "New York City." The three little facts taken together were significant. Evan slipped it in his pocket.

But though it had the look of a mere business letter or a bill, he still had qualms about opening it. Useless to tell himself that it was his duty to do so. To tell the truth Evan was not cut out by nature to be a detective. He finally decided to put his problem to George Deaves.

"Mr. Deaves," he said, "am I employed to accompany your father on his walks or to discover the blackmailers?"

"Primarily to run down the blackmailers," was the prompt reply.

"Merely to go with my father is not worth all the money I'm paying you."

"Very good. Then I'm supposed to follow the trail wherever it may lead?"

"Certainly."

"Even in this house?"

"Of course. I told you particularly to watch the servants. Whom do you suspect?"

"I have no evidence yet. I merely wanted to know where I stood. Would I be justified in opening letters that looked suspicious to me?"

"Why, yes. The guilty person wouldn't tell you of his own accord."

"Thanks; that's what I wanted to know."

"Have you found out anything?" Deaves asked eagerly.