The man at the oars rowed steadily and in silence with an easy swing of his broad shoulders. He wormed his way in and out of the shipping filling the harbor with the same instinct with which a pedestrian works through a crowd. He slid before ferry boats, gilded under the sterns of schooners, and missed busy launches by a yard, never pausing in his stroke, never looking over his shoulder, never speaking. They proceeded in this way some three miles until they were out of the harbor proper and opposite a small, sandy island. Here the oarsman paused and waited for further orders. Stubbs glanced at his big silver watch and thought a moment. It was still a good three hours before dark. Beyond the island a fair-sized yacht lay at anchor. Stubbs took from his bag a pair of field glasses and leveled them upon this ship. Wilson followed his gaze and detected a fluttering of tiny flags moving zigzag upon the deck. After watching these a moment Stubbs, with feigned indifference, turned his glasses to the right and then swung them in a semicircle about the harbor, and finally towards the wharf they had left. He then 125 carefully replaced the glasses in their case, tucked them away in the black bag, and, after relighting his pipe, said,

“What’s the use er fishin’?” He added gloomily, “Never catch nothin’.”

He glanced at the water, then at the sky, then at the sandy beach which lay just to port.

“Let’s go ashore and think it over,” he suggested.

The oarsman swung into action again as silently and evenly as though Stubbs had pressed an electric button.

In a few minutes the bow scraped upon the sand, and in another Stubbs had leaped out with his bag. Wilson clambered after. Then to his amazement, the latter saw the oarsman calmly shove off and turn the boat’s prow back to the wharf. He shot a glance at Stubbs and saw that the latter had seen the move, and had said nothing. For the first time he began to wonder in earnest just what sort of a mission they were on.

Stubbs stamped his cramped legs, gave a hitch to his belt, and filled his clay pipe, taking a long time to scrape out the bowl, whittle off a palmful of tobacco, roll it, and stuff it into the bowl with a care which did not spill a speck of it. When it was fairly burning, he swept the island with his keen eyes and suggested that they take a walk.

The two made a circle of the barren acres which made up the island and returned to their starting point with scarcely a word having been spoken. Stubbs 126 picked out a bit of log facing the ship and sat down. He waved his hand towards the yacht.

“That,” he said, “is the craft that’ll take us there––if it don’t go down.”

“Why don’t we go aboard, then?” ventured Wilson.

“’Cause why? ’Cause we’re goneter wait fer the other fishermen.”

“I hope they have found as comfortable a fishing-ground as we have.”

He studied Stubbs a moment and then asked abruptly,

“What’s the meaning of this fishing story?”

Stubbs turned upon him with a face as blank as the cloudless sky above.

“If I was goneter give a bright young man advice ’bout this very trip,” he answered slowly, “it would be not to ask any questions.”

“I don’t consider it very inquisitive to want to know what I’m shipping on,” he returned with some heat.

“Ye said ye wanted t’ git somewhere near Carlina, didn’t ye?”

“Yes.”

“An’ ye said ye didn’t care how you gut there so long’s ye gut there.”

“Yes,” admitted Wilson.

“Well––ye’re on yer way to Carlina now. An’ if we ain’t blown t’ hell, as likely ’nuff we will be, an’ if we don’t all git our bloomin’ throats cut like I dreamed ’bout, er if the ship ain’t scuttled as we’ll 127 have a precious crew who ’u’d do it in a second, we’ll git there.”

He paused as though expecting some reply, but already Wilson had lost interest in his query before other speculations of warmer interest.

“In the meanwhile,” ran on Stubbs, “’tain’t bad right here. Shouldn’t wonder though but what we gut an old hellion of a thunder shower ’fore long.”

“How do you figure that out without a cloud in the sky?”

“Don’t figure it out. Don’t ever figure nothin’ out, ’cause nothin’ ever comes out right. Only sech things is jus’ my luck.”

He puffed a moment at his pipe, and then, removing it, turned to the young man beside him with a renewed interest which seemed to be the result of his meditation.

“See here, m’ boy, I’m thinkin’ that if you and I c’uld sorter pull together on this trip it ’u’d be a good thing fer us both. I reckon I’ll need a man or two at my side what I can depend upon, and maybe you’ll find one come in handy, too. Ye’ll find me square, but damned unlucky. As fer you, it’s clear to see you’re square ’nuff. I like a man at the start or I don’t like him ever. I like you, an’ if it’s agreeable we can strike articles of ’greement to pull together, as you might say.”

Wilson listened in some surprise at this unexpected turn in the attitude of his friend, but he could not 128 doubt the man’s sincerity. He extended his hand at once, responding heartily,

“I’m with you. We ought to be able to help.”

“You’ve gotter work a little longer in the dark, m’ boy, ’cause it isn’t for me to tell another man’s business. But I’ve looked inter this and so far’s I can see it is all right and above board. It’s onusual an’ I’m not bankin’ much on how it’ll come out, but we don’t have to worry none over that. Ye’ll have a captain whose got more heart than head maybe, which is diff’rent from most captains who useter sail down here.”

“I’m willing to take what comes.”

“It’s the only way. Wrastle it out each day and, win er lose, forgit it in yer sleep. We all reaches the same port in the end.”

The sun beat down warmly on the two men, the blue waves danced merrily before their eyes, and just beyond the good ship rode at anchor, rising and falling rhythmically. Already the city seemed hundreds of miles behind to Wilson, although he had only to turn his head to see it. Whether it was the salt, sea air or the smack of many lands which clung to the man at his side, he felt himself in another world, a world of broader, looser laws.

“In about an hour,” drawled Stubbs, “the others will be here. There’ll be all kinds, I expect; some of ’em sober, some of ’em drunk; some of ’em cool, some of ’em scared; some of ’em willing, some of ’em balky. But all of ’em has gotter git aboard that vessel. An’ you and me has gotter do it.”

“How many?”

“Maybe fifty; maybe more.”

“Pretty good handful.”

“It would be if we didn’t start first. So it’s jus’ as well––not that we’re lookin’ fer trouble or even expectin’ it, as you may say, but jus’ to nip trouble in the bud, as the sayin’ is,––to look at our weapins.”

He drew out his own heavy Colt’s revolver, removed the cartridges, tested the hammer, and refilled the chambers. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Wilson to see that he was equally careful. The latter could not help but smile a little. He felt more as though he were on the stage than in real life. To be preparing for as much trouble as though in some uncivilized country, while still within sight of the office buildings of a modern city, seemed an absurdity. Yet here he was, in his sober senses, and at his side sat Stubbs, and, behind, the big chimneys belched smoke, while he thrust one cartridge after another into the bright cylinder of his weapon. But when he looked again at the ocean which lay before him an unbroken plain extending to the shores of other continents, his act and his situation seemed more natural. He was preparing for the things before him, not the life behind. The waters breaking at their feet were brothers to those many thousands of miles distant.

The sun sank lower and lower towards the blue horizon line, finally spattering the sky with color as it sank into the sea as though it had splashed into a 130 pot of molten gold. Behind them the whistles screamed that work might cease. In front, where there were no roads or paths to cut the blue, the only surface whereon man has not been able to leave his mark since the first created day, a deep peace came down. The world became almost a dream world, so hushed and vague it grew. The yacht which still rocked at anchor grew as dim as a ghost ship. The purple of the sky deepened and the stars came out.

“Look at her now,” drawled Stubbs, with a sweep of his hand towards the waters, “like an infant in arms, but afore mornin’ reachin’ for yer throat, maybe. Next to wimen I don’t s’pose there’s anythin’ so uncertain and contrary, as you may say.”

He raised his field glasses and studied the ship again which lay without lights, like a derelict. He rose lazily and stretched himself.

The light glow in the west disappeared and left the earth but scantily lighted by a new moon. The surface of the water was dark, so that from the shore a rowboat could not be seen for a distance of more than fifty yards. Stubbs strolled towards the place where they had landed and took from his black bag a small lantern which he lighted and, after some searching, placed upon a small, flat rock which he discovered.

“Guess that will fetch ’em ’fore long,” he said.

But it was all of half an hour before the first boat came stealing out of the dark like a floating log. At sight of it Stubbs became a different man. He rose to his feet with the quick movement of a boy. His eyes 131 took in every detail of the contents of the boat before it touched the shore. He was as alert as a watchdog. He turned to Wilson before he started towards this first cargo.

“’Member,” he warned,––“jus’ one thing to do,––git ’em aboard the ship yonder. If they git scared and balky, tell ’em they gut ter go now. Hol’ yerself steady and talk sharp.”

The boat, a large fishing dory, scraped the sand. It appeared loaded to the gunwales with the men and their kits. It had scarcely grounded before there was a scramble among the occupants and a fight to get ashore.

But once they had secured their traps, they gathered into a surly group and swore their discontent at the whole expedition. Into the midst of this Stubbs stamped and under pretence of gruff greeting to this one and that, together with much elbowing, broke the circle up into three parts. A dozen questions were shot at him, but he answered them with an assumption of authority that had a wholesome effect. In another minute he had picked out three of the most aggressive men and stationed them at different points on the island to look out for the other boats.

They came rapidly, and within half an hour the list was complete.

Wilson found that he was in about as tough a company as ever stepped out of a pirate story. They had evidently all been chosen with a regard for their physique, for they were all powerfully built men, ranging 132 in age from twenty to forty. Most of them were only loafers about the wharves. There was not a seafaring man among them, for reasons which later were obvious enough to Wilson. It was clear that few of them were pleased with the first stage of their expedition, but they were forced to take it out in swearing. They swore at the dark, at the cold sea air, at the sand, at their luck, and, below their breath, at Stubbs, who had got them here. Two of them were drunk and sang maudlin songs in each other’s arms. But out of the grumbling babel of voices one question predominated.

“Wha’ th’ hell does this mean?”

Stubbs with a paper in his hand checked off the contents of each boat as it arrived, strode into the heart of every group as it got too noisy, turned aside all questions with an oath or a laugh, and in ten minutes had convinced every man that for the present they were under the whip hand of a master. They quieted down after this and, slouching into the sand, lighted their pipes and waited. Wilson was stationed to overlook the empty boats and see that no one but the oarsmen departed in them.

He took his post with a nonchalance that surprised himself. It was as though he had been accustomed to such incidents all his life. When one of the bullies swaggered down and said with an oath that he’d be damned if he’d have any more of it and lifted one foot into a boat, Wilson touched him lightly upon the shoulder and ordered him back.

The man turned and squared his shoulders for a 133 blow. But the hand upon his shoulder remained, and even in the dusk he saw that the eyes continued unflinchingly upon him.

“Get back,” said Wilson, quietly.

The man turned, and without a word slunk to his place among his fellows. Wilson watched him as curiously as though he had been merely a bystander. And yet when he realized that the man had done his bidding, had done it because he feared to do otherwise, he felt a tingling sense of some new power. It was a feeling of physical individuality––a consciousness of manhood in the arms and legs and back. To him man had until now been purely a creature of the intellect gauged by his brain capacity. Here where the arm counted he found himself taking possession of some fresh nature within him.

“Take the lantern,” shouted Stubbs; “go to where we sat and wave it three times, slow like, back and forth.”

Wilson obeyed. Almost instantly he saw a launch steal from the ship’s side and make directly for the island.

“Now, men,” commanded Stubbs, “take your kits, get into fours and march to the left.”

With a shove here, a warning there, he moulded the scattered groups into a fairly orderly line. Then he directed them by twos into the small boat from the launch, which had come as far inshore as possible. Wilson stood opposite and kept the line intact. There was no trouble. The launch made two trips, and on 134 the last Stubbs and Wilson clambered in, leaving the island as deserted as the ocean in their wake. Stubbs wiped his forehead with a red bandanna handkerchief and lighted up his short clay pipe with a sigh of relief.

“So far, so good,” he said. “The only thing you can bank on is what’s over with. There’s several of them gents I should hate to meet on a dark night, an’ the same will bear steady watchin’ on this trip.”

He squatted in the stern, calmly facing the clouded faces with the air of a laborer who has completed a good day’s work. As they came alongside the ship he instructed each man how to mount the swaying rope ladder and watched them solicitously until they clambered over the side.

Most of them took this as an added insult and swore roundly at it as an imposition.

Wilson himself found it no easy task to reach the deck, but Stubbs came up the ladder as nimbly as a cat. The ship was unlighted from bow to stern, so that the men aboard her moved about like shadows. Wilson was rescued from the hold by Stubbs, who drew him back just as he was being shoved towards the hatch by one of the sailors. The next second he found himself facing a well-built shadow, who greeted Stubbs with marked satisfaction.

“By the Lord,” exclaimed the man, “you’ve done well, Stubbs. How many did you get in all?”

“Fifty––to a man.”

“They looked husky in the dark.”

“Yes, they’ve gut beef ’nuff––but that ain’t all that makes a man. Howsomever, they’re as good as I expected.”

Wilson gasped; the master of this strange craft was no other than Danbury!