she said in an undertone.
"It is daylight. If I stay here I shall go crazy."

"The murderer is still on the ship," I protested. "And just now the
deck is--hardly a place for women. Wait until this afternoon, Miss
Lee. By that time I shall have arranged for a guard for you. Although
God knows, with every man under suspicion, where we will find any to
trust."

"You will arrange a guard!"

"The men have asked me to take charge."

"But--I don't understand. The first mate--"

"--is a prisoner of the crew."

"They accuse him!"

"They have to accuse some one. There's a sort of hysteria among the
men, and they've fixed on Singleton. They won't hurt him, I'll see to
that,--and it makes for order."

She considered for a moment. I had time then to see the havoc the
night had wrought in her. She was pale, with deep hollows around her
eyes. Her hands shook and her mouth drooped wearily. But, although
her face was lined with grief, it was not the passionate sorrow of a
loving girl. She had not loved Vail, I said to myself. She had not
loved Vail! My heart beat faster.

"Will you allow me to leave this room for five minutes?"

"If I may go with you, and if you will come back without protest."

"You are arbitrary!" she said resentfully. "I only wish to speak to
Mr. Turner."

"Then--if I may wait at the door."

"I shall not go, under those conditions."

"Miss Lee," I said desperately, "surely you must realize the state of
affairs. We must trust no one--no one. Every shadowy corner, every
closed door, may hold death in its most terrible form."

"You are right, of course. Will you wait outside? I can dress and be
ready in five minutes."

I went into the main cabin, now bright with the morning sun, which
streamed down the forward companionway. The door to Vail's room across
was open, and Williams, working in nervous haste, was putting it in
order. Walking up and down, his shrewd eyes keenly alert, Charlie
Jones was on guard, revolver in hand. He came over to me at once.

"Turner is moving, in there," he said, jerking his thumb toward the
forward cabin. "What are you going to do? Let a drunken sot like that
give us orders, and bang us with a belaying pin when we don't please
him?"

"He is the owner. But one thing we can do, Jones. We can keep him
from more liquor. Williams!"

He came out, more dead than alive.

"Williams," I said sternly, "I give you an hour to get rid of every
ounce of