"Shut up!" barked Mayo.

The girl was trembling, and he feared collapse.

Bradish began to blubber. "I'm not prepared to die," he protested.

Mayo studied his passenger for some time, wrinkling his brows. "Bradish,

listen to me a moment!"

The New-Yorker gave him as much attention as terror and grief permitted.

"There isn't much we can do just now to fix up our general earthly

affairs. But we may as well clean the slate between us two. That will

help our consciences a little. I haven't any quarrel with you any more.

We won't be mushy about it. But let's cross it off."

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"It's all over," mourned Bradish. "So what's the use of bearing

grudges?"

"I suppose it's true that the court has indicted me for manslaughter.

Bradish, tell me, man to man, whether I've got to go into those breakers

with that on my conscience!"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do! You know whether those men of the schooner Warren were

drowned by any criminal mistake of mine or not!"

Bradish did not speak.

"You wouldn't have said as much to Captain Downs if you hadn't known

something," insisted the victim of the plot.

"It was only what Burkett let drop when he came after some money. I

suppose he thought it was safe to talk to me. But what's the good of my

giving you guesswork? I don't know anything definite. I don't understand

sailor matters."

"Bradish, what Burkett said--was it something about the compass--about

putting a job over on me by monkeying with the compass?"

"It was something like that." His tone exhibited indifference; it

was evident that he was more occupied with his terror than with his

confession.

"Didn't Burkett say something about a magnet?"

"He got off some kind of a joke about Fogg in the pilot-house and

fog outside--but that the Fogg inside did the business. And he said

something about Fogg's iron wishbone."

"So that was the way it was done--and done by the general manager of the

line!" cried Mayo. "The general manager himself! It's no wonder I have

smashed that suspicion between the eyes every time it bobbed up! I

suspected--but I didn't dare to suspect! Is that some of your high

finance, Bradish?"

"No, it isn't," declared the New-Yorker, with heat. "It's an

understrapper like Fogg going ahead and producing results, so he calls

it. The big men never bother with the details."




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