LYCHER had reached the wall. He lurched, although the ship was not rolling. His back was turned toward Eddie; and the steward knew that inside another minute, the purser would be reaching to find the missing keys.
Eddie thrust his left hand into the pocket of his jacket. Frantically, he twisted away the cap of the bottle that held the knock-out drops. Bringing out the bottle, he let a flock of pills glide into the glass of water. Quaking, he watched them dissolve — seven in all.
It was a race; the melting of those pills against the purser’s present recovery. Eddie’s game won; the tablets were dissolved before the purser had decided to resume his look for the keys.
Eddie dropped the little bottle into his pocket; he stepped forward with the glass just as Lycher’s hand went toward the hanging coat.
“Drink this water, sir,” suggested Eddie. “All of it. You will feel better, Mr. Lycher.”
The purser nodded. He took the glass and gulped its entire contents. Passing the glass back to Eddie, he reached into the coat pocket. His eyes bulged as his hand found emptiness. Lycher wheeled suddenly; he saw Eddie’s staring gaze.
“You — you thief!” accused the purser. He saw Eddie’s expression, and it was a give away! “You — you stole my keys. So you’re in the game! I might have—”
Lycher’s voice failed as he lumbered forward, seeking to clutch the steward’s throat. The new dose of knock-out tablets was beginning its effect.
Lycher swayed across the cabin; slumping to the bed, he clutched the telephone, while Eddie stared, too frightened to make a move.
The purser had raised the receiver. He was calling the doctor’s cabin. Eddie could hear a voice responding to the purser’s hello. Wildly, the steward surged forward as Lycher started to speak. His attack, however, proved unnecessary.
That was all that Lycher managed. The telephone fell from his hands; he sprawled to the bed, then rolled to the cabin floor. Eddie scooped-up the telephone; nervously, he finished the call.
“It’s Mr. Lycher, sir,” panted the steward. “He — he has had another dizzy spell, doctor. Shall — shall I give him water? Or — or—”
The receiver clicked at the other end, announcing that the doctor was on his way. Eddie stumbled over and replaced the keys in the purser’s pocket; he fastened the catch to another portion of the lining. Opening the porthole, he hurled his bottle of knock-out tablets into the watery depths.
Returning to Lycher, Eddie stooped beside the purser’s body. Lycher had fallen heavily. His head had thumped the end of the bed. Blood was clotting his hair; his eyes were glassy when the steward raised their lids. Eddie propped a pillow beneath the man’s wobbly head.
Some minutes passed before the ship’s physician arrived from his distant cabin. He found Eddie anxious-eyed, beside the body. The doctor attempted to restore the stricken purser; but a half hour of effort failed. He was solemn when he declared his final verdict:
“Dead.”
TWO-THIRTY found a solemn group assembled in the captain’s cabin. The doctor was talking to the skipper, while other officers listened.
“I was slow responding,” admitted the physician, “because I supposed the trouble to be nothing but a mild relapse. Eddie, the steward, was there to look out for Lycher. Unfortunately, the purser was dead when I arrived.”
“What about Lycher’s fall?”
“It may have been responsible for his death, Captain Henderly. Lycher was a heavy man; he received a severe blow.”
“What about your talk with Lycher?” inquired the captain, turning to the officer who had been with the purser in the smoking room. “You say he apprehended trouble? That was at midnight, Mr. Rodney?”
“Yes,” replied Rodney. “Lycher wanted men to watch his office. But he did not seem greatly apprehensive, sir. He seemed merely to have some reason for thinking that precaution might be wise.”
“Hmm. Was everything all right in Lycher’s cabin?”
“Yes, sir. I have just come from there. Here are his keys; I had to rip them loose from his pocket.”
The captain pondered.
“What about the steward, doctor?” he queried. “Did he act suspiciously?”
“No,” returned the doctor. “On the contrary, he was very helpful. Nervous, of course, but that was natural. He bemoaned the fact that he reached Lycher too late to prevent the man’s fall.”
The captain arose. He shook his head.
“I don’t like it,” he declared. “Place two men on watch in Lycher’s cabin. Have others stay outside the strong room. We shall order an autopsy on Lycher’s body when we reach New York.”
The doctor nodded his agreement.
“What about Eddie?” queried Rodney.
“Let him go about his duty,” ordered Captain Henderly. “Doctor Reed’s statement clears him. Lycher’s pills, we know, are harmless. If there was foul play, it occurred before Lycher went to his cabin. Say nothing that may alarm the passengers or cause too much talk among the crew.”
THE captain went to the bridge. The others also left the cabin. Mr. Rodney posted the required men. Half an hour after the conference, all was quiet aboard the onward steaming Tropical.
But it was at that hour — three o’clock — that Eddie, the treacherous steward, appeared outside of Duronne’s cabin and tapped cautiously at the door. Duronne admitted him.
“Word from Gouger?” queried the Coilmaster.
Eddie nodded, his peaked face leering.
“Good work, Eddie,” approved Duronne. “That overdose you handed Lycher has fixed things doubly well. The crew members on duty are staying put, so Hank tells me. Some around the purser’s office; others in Lycher’s cabin.”
“Which leaves nobody to spot Gouger’s pals.”
“Exactly. They’ll start operations in the lounge and the ballroom, and work out from those points. What’s more, one of Gouger’s bunch is lucky enough to be on duty in Lycher’s cabin.”
“You mean Slug Cladder?”
“Yes. He’ll sock the guy that’s in there with him and do some dirty work of his own. You be ready to go with Hank and myself, Eddie.”
“To get Revoort?”
“Yes. We won’t have long to wait. The ship’s position will be just about right inside another hour.”
“It’s three o’clock now.”
“Three o’clock,” Duronne chuckled. “The zero hour.”
Duronne was right when he stated that there would not be long to wait. Quiet followed after Eddie departed from the Coilmaster’s cabin; and that silence persisted for a brief half hour. Then came a sudden change aboard the Tropical. Wildly clanging bells began a bedlam.
Harry and Cliff, awake in 309, were among the first to hear that clamorous alarm. They stared at each other for one brief moment; then Harry leaped across the cabin and yanked open the door. He sniffed smoke as he reached the corridor.
Then, before either he or Cliff could decide on the right move, their ears caught the sound of a bellowing voice that delivered one tragic announcement amid the echo of the jangling alarm bells:
“Fire! All hands on deck!”
CHAPTER IX
THE DISTANT WATCH
HALF past three.
A battered, loudly ticking alarm clock registered that time as it hung from a wooden post in the forecastle of the tugboat Colonia. Close to the clock was a single lantern that revealed the dial of the timepiece. Just within range of the glow was a figure stretched upon a lower bunk.
The Shadow’s eyes were peering upward. His face had lost its strain. The glint in his eyes showed that he had recuperated; but the lantern light showed that his recovery had brought him new misfortune.
The Shadow’s arms were beneath his back; his body and his legs were girded with taut ropes. Such had been his plight for hours; ever since Pete had reported the improvement in the prisoner’s condition.