"Mr. Royce!" she cried. "Mother!"
They stopped and turned toward her, just as a heavy spar crashed to
the deck before them.
CHAPTER XV
Two Heads are Better than One
I understood in a flash what had happened, and sprang up the stair to
the upper deck, determined to have it out with our enemy, once for
all. I searched it over thoroughly, looking in and under the boats and
behind funnels and ventilators, but could discover no sign of anyone.
When I got back to the promenade, a little crowd had gathered,
attracted by the noise of the falling spar, which a dozen members of
the crew were busy hoisting back into place.
"I do not see how those lashings could have worked loose," said the
officer in charge. "We lashed that extra spar there just before we
sailed, and I know it was well fastened."
I took a look at the lashings. They had not been cut, as I expected to
find them, but had been untied. Martigny had doubtless worked at them
while we sat there talking--he was too clever an artist in crime to do
anything so clumsy as to cut the ropes.
"Well, luckily, there's no damage done," observed Mr. Royce, with
affected lightness, "though it was a close shave. If Miss Kemball
hadn't called to us, the spar would have struck us squarely."
Mrs. Kemball closed her eyes with a giddy little gesture, at the
vision the words called up, and the officer frowned in chagrin and
perplexity.
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