"When I got in clost they told me the _Rosan_ had found you, and handed me an envelope with a message inside of it. Just as I was goin'

away there came the most awful clickin' an' flashin' amidships I ever saw--"

"Wireless," said Code.

"Wal, I've heard of it, but I never see it before; an' I come away as quick as I could."

"And the message?" asked Code curiously.

Pete laboriously unpinned a waistcoat-pocket and produced an envelope which he handed to Code. It was sealed, and the skipper tore away the end. The mystery and interest of the thing played upon his mind until he was in a tremble of nervous excitement.

At last he would know what the schooner was and why.

Eagerly he opened the message. It was typewritten on absolutely plain paper and unsigned, further baffling his curiosity. After a moment he read:

"CAPTAIN SCHOFIELD:

"Yesterday at St. Andrew's suit was filed against you for murder in the first degree upon the person of Michael Burns, late of Freekirk Head, Grande Mignon Island. Plaintiff, Nathaniel Burns, son of the deceased. There is an order out for your arrest. This is a friendly warning and no more. You are now fore-armed!"

CHAPTER XVII

TRAWLERS

Schofield stood as one stupefied, staring blankly at the fateful words.

Murder in the first degree!

Had it not been for his thorough knowledge of Nat Burns's character he would have laughed at the absurdity of the thing and thrown the message over the side.

But now he remained like one fast in the clutch of some horrible nightmare, unable to reason, unable to think coherently, unable to do anything but attempt to sound the depths of a hatred such as this.

"For Heaven's sake, what is it, skipper?" asked Ellinwood.

Code pa.s.sed the message to his mate without a word. His men might as well know the worst at once. Ellinwood read slowly.

"Rot!" he snarled in his great rumbling voice. "Murder? How does he get murder out of it?"

"If I sank the old _May Schofield_ for her insurance money, which is what every one believes, then I deliberately caused the death of the men with me, didn't I? Pete, this is a pretty-serious thing. I didn't care when they set the insurance company on me, but this is different.

If it goes beyond this stage I will carry the disgrace of jail and a trial all my life. That devil has nearly finished me!"

Code's voice broke, and the tears of helpless rage smarted in his eyes.

"Steady on, now!" counseled Pete, looking with pity at the young skipper he worshiped. "He's done fer you true this time, but the end of things is a tarnal long ways off yet, an' don't you go losin' yer s.p.u.n.k!"

"But what have I ever done to him that he should start this against me?" cried Schofield.

Pete could not answer.

"What do they do when a man is accused of murder?" asked Code.

"Why, arrest him, I guess."

Pete scratched his chin reminiscently. "There was that Bulwer case."

He recounted it in detail. "Yes," he went on, "they can't do nothin'

until the man accused is arrested.

"After that he gets a preliminary hearin', and, if things seem plain enough, then the grand jury indicts him. After that he's tried by a reg'lar jury. So the fust thing they've got to do is arrest you."

"Darn it, they sha'n't--I'll sail to Africa first!" snarled Code, his eyes blazing. He strode up and down the deck.

"You say the word, skipper," rumbled Pete loyally, "an' we crack on every st.i.tch fer the north pole!"

Code smiled.

"Curse me if I don't like to see a man smile when he's in trouble,"

announced Pete roundly. "Skipper, you'll do. You're young, an' these things come hard, but I cal'late we'll drop all this talk about sailin' away to furrin parts.

"Now, there's jest two courses left fer you to sail. Either we go on fishin' an' dodge the gunboat that brings the officer after you, or we go on fishin' an' let him get you when he comes. I'll stand by you either way. You've got yer mother to support, G.o.d bless her! An'

you've got a right to fill yer hold with fish so's she can live when they're sold. That's one way of lookin' at it; the other's plain sailin'!"

"No, Pete; this is too serious. I guess the mother'll have to suffer this time, too. If they send a man after me I'll be here and I'll go back and take my medicine. I'll make you skipper, and you can select your mate. You'll get a skipper's share, and you can pay mother the regular amount for hiring the _La.s.s_--"

"She'll get skipper's share if I have to lick every hand aboard!"

growled Ellinwood. "An' you can rest easy on that."

"That's fine," said Code gently; "and I don't know what I'd do without you, Pete."

"You ain't supposed to do without me. What in thunder do you suppose I shipped with you fer if it wasn't to look after you, hey?"

The men had finished dressing down and were cleaning up the decks.

Several of them, noticing that something momentous was being discussed, were edging nearer. Pete observed this.

"Skipper," he said, "we've got four or five shots of trawl-line to pick. Suppose you and I go out an' do the job? Then we can talk in peace. Feel able?"

"Never better in my life. Get my dory over."

"That blue one? Never again! That's bad luck fer you. Take mine."

"All right. Anything you say."

Several hands made the dory ready. Into it they put three or four tubs or half casks in which was coiled hundreds of fathoms of stout line furnished with a strong hook every two or three feet. Each hook was baited with a fat salt clam, for the early catch of squid had been exhausted by the dory fishing. There was also a fresh tub of bait, buoys, and a lantern.

A youth aboard clambered up to the cross-trees, gave them the direction of the trawl buoy-light, and they started. It was a clear, starlit night with only a gentle sea running and no wind to speak of.

There was not a hint of fog.