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Otherwise there was no sign of human habitation, but we knew the character of the natives of such islands thereabouts too well to approach land with any sense of security. Captain Falk and Kipping were deep in consultation, and the rest were intent upon the sad duty that awaited us. On the deck there lay now a shape sewed in canvas.
"When had you seen Kipping before?" There was a long silence, then Frank spoke quietly and yet with obvious feeling. "Ah got a bone to pick with Kipping," he said, "but dat yeh's a matter 'twix' him and me." All this time Roger had watched and listened with a kindly smile. "Well, men," he now said, "we've had a chance to rest and get our wind. It's time we set to work.
As long as I had known Falk, I had never realized how many different faces the man could assume at the shortest notice. But Roger seemed not at all surprised. "Yes," he said, shortly, "we're going to send you away, you black-hearted scoundrel." "Good God! We'll perish!" Although obvious retorts were many, Roger made no reply. Now Kipping spoke up mildly and innocently: "What'll we do?
'There's only one man between us and a hundred thousand dollars in gold. And Falk Kipping was talking to Falk low-like and didn't know I was anywhere about and Falk says, 'No, that's too much. Then he says, wild-like, 'Shoot go on and shoot. Then Kipping laughs and says, 'So you've got a little gumption, have you? and he shot Captain Whidden and killed him. Don't point that pistol at me, sir!
I worked away with the tar-bucket and reflected on this unexpected change in the attitude of the deep-voiced seaman who, on our first day aboard ship, had seen Kipping wink at the second mate. It was all so trivial that I was ready to laugh at myself for thinking of it twice, and yet stupid old Bill Hayden had noticed it. A new suspicion startled me.
What do you know about who killed Captain Whidden?" For once the fellow was taken completely off his guard. He glanced around as if he wished to run away, but there was no escape. He saw only hostile faces. "What do you know about who killed Captain Whidden?" "Mr. Kipping killed him," the fellow gasped, startled out of whatever reticence he may have intended to maintain. "Yes, sir! Yes, sir!"
Seeing that it would be suicide to attempt to maintain our ground, and that we already were cut off from the party on the quarter-deck, we retreated forward, fighting off the enemy as we went, and ten or a dozen of us took our stand on the forecastle. Kipping and Falk and the beach-combers they had gathered together had conducted their campaign well.
"It don't do to insult the dead," he cried in a voice like the yowl of a tom-cat. "You can kill us all you like. It's captain's rights. But, by the holy, you ain't got no rights whatsoever to refuse a poor sailor a decent burial." With a vile oath, Captain Falk contemplated this new factor in the situation. Suddenly he yelled, "Kipping! It's mutiny! Help!"
We've not seen the last of Kipping." Roger got up, and walking over to the chest of ammunition, thoughtfully regarded it. "No, sir!" Mr. Cledd reiterated, "if Kipping's Kipping, we've not seen the last of him."
I've done everything I can to help him out and I'm sure I don't want to quarrel with him, yet for all he goes around as meek as a cat that's been in the cream, he's always pecking at me and pestering me, till just now I was fair drove to give him a smart larrup." Why, indeed, should Kipping or any one else molest good, dull old Bill Hayden?
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