“It beats me,” Crawford declared, glancing down at the bar, where the broad-shouldered figure of his old comrade was standing1. “Jimmy and I have been chums for years. We’ve worked together and starved together, and five years ago he saved my life at the risk of his own. He dived into a flooded river, and it was touch and go whether he brought me out or not.”
The deep voice shook for a moment. “It’s beyond me,” he continued. “For the last few months he’s been a changed man. I can hardly get a word out of him, and many times I’ve caught him looking at me as though I were his bitterest enemy.”
There was no doubting the sincerity2 of Crawford’s emotions. His tanned face twitched3, and his hard, work-worn hands were clasped in a tight grip as they rested on his knees.
“Something has gone wrong,” he concluded, “but what it is Heaven only knows. Would you believe me if I told you that he——”
The detective waited curiously4, but Crawford did not complete the sentence, and a little silence fell between the two.
As Stone had tossed off his drink, he passed them once more. When he reached the door, however, he halted for a moment, then, swinging around on his heel, beckoned5 to Crawford. It was almost a gasp6 of relief that broke from the latter’s lips as he rose.
“Hello!” he murmured. “He wants to speak to me, does he? Excuse me, Mr. Carter.”
The eager way in which he hurried toward his partner revealed to the detective how anxious he was to make friends again.
The two figures passed out through the doorway7, and Nick mechanically picked up a magazine from a neighboring table. Half an hour passed; then, leaving the smoking room, the detective went off in search of Chick. His young assistant was not to be seen, and presently Carter returned to the boat deck, found a quiet gap between two suspended boats, and, leaning on the rail, watched the distant lights along the coast.
Perhaps fifteen minutes later the detective heard a quick, muffled8 cry, followed by the creak of a boat as some heavy object swung against it. He straightened up and listened. A moment later a half-choked voice came to him:
“Jim! Jim! Good heavens! Are you trying to murder me?”
Nick recognized the voice as that of Crawford’s, and, with a swift bound, he leaped out of the dark gap between the boats in which he had stood concealed9.
Sprinting10 forward along the deserted11 deck, he followed the direction of the sound, and in another gap he saw standing out against the background of the sea two struggling figures. They were locked in each other’s arms, and one of them was swaying out over the rail at a perilous12 angle. The detective saw that the figure of the man bending over the rail was that of Crawford, and above him, with his fingers clutched tightly around his throat, was James Stone. The former was clutching at the murderous wrists of his companion, trying to release the fierce grip, but even as Nick sighted them Stone made another vicious lunge, and Crawford’s body was all but thrust out over the rail into the sea.
A swift, horrified13 spring carried Nick into the gap between the boats, and realizing that there was not a moment to spare, he flung himself at Stone. It was a straight-arm blow that the detective gave, with the swift, trained precision of an experienced athlete. The great detective’s bunched fist landed full on the hard, dogged face of James Stone with resistless force. A strangled oath broke from the miner’s lips, and he staggered back against the bow of the swinging boat, releasing Crawford as he did so.
Nick saw the unfortunate man’s body sway over the rail, and with a headlong leap the detective hurled14 himself forward, gripping at the toppling man. He was only just in the nick of time. His fingers caught the ends of Crawford’s evening coat, and for a long tense moment he hung over the rail, clutching in that way the otherwise unsupported body of the miner. It was well for Crawford that the muscles of those two arms were of a man much beyond the average strength. Carter felt as though his arms were being pulled out of their sockets15, but presently he gathered himself for an extra effort, and slowly and carefully pulled the swaying man upward until Crawford was able to grasp the rail in his hands. A moment later, Nick had shifted his grasp until his palms were under the man’s shoulders, and then with a tug16 Crawford was lifted over the rail and deposited safely on the deck.
The perspiration17 was pouring from the detective’s face, and his breath was coming and going in great, choking pants, for Crawford was a heavy man and the bodily effort had been a tremendous one. The miner clung to the rail for a few moments, steadying himself there. Through the gloom Nick could see the bearded face and the blue eyes fixed18 on his own. At that instant, a quick, shuffling19 footfall came to the detective’s ears, and he turned quickly around in time to see the figure of Stone gliding20 like a black shadow along the pale, canvas-covered side of the suspended boat.
But before he could do so, Crawford reeled, stepped toward him, and clutched him by the arm.
“It’s—it’s you, Carter?” the miner breathed.
“Yes. Let me go, though. I don’t want that scoundrel to get away.”
“Don’t follow him! Let him go—for my sake!” he pleaded.
Nick paused and peered with surprise into the man’s face.
“I suppose you know what you’re saying?” the detective asked, in a strange voice.
“Perfectly.”
“But that fellow tried to murder you.”
“I know that only too well.”
“And you mean to say you’re not going to lodge23 a complaint against him or do anything in the matter?”
The bearded face shone in the dusk.
“That man will never be accused by me,” Crawford said positively24. “Don’t you recognize him?”
“Yes, I recognize him, all right,” he said. “It was Stone, your partner, and also—if I had not come on the scene just when I did—your murderer.”
Crawford came closer to Carter and thrust his arm through that of the detective.
“That may be,” he said, “but I can’t forget that he’s also the man who once saved my life, who has shared his last crust with me again and again.”
“Oh, yes, I know that you think me a fool. You will think me even a greater when I tell you that this is not the first time. He has tried to do the same thing on this very voyage—to say nothing of an attempt before we left South America.”
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1
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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2
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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3
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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4
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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7
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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8
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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9
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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10
sprinting
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| v.短距离疾跑( sprint的现在分词 ) | |
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11
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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12
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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13
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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14
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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15
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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16
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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17
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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18
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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19
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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20
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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21
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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22
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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23
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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24
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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25
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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26
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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27
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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