"
"I don't believe you called me. You're--lying, aren't you?" He
got up, steadying himself by the wall, and swaying dizzily to the
motion of the ship. "You shut me off down here, and then run things
your own damned way." He turned on Miss Lee. "Where's Helen?"
"In her room, Marsh. She has one of her headaches. Please don't
disturb her."
"Where's Williams?" He turned to me.
"I can get him for you."
"Tell him to bring me a highball. My mouth's sticky." He ran his
tongue over his dry lips. "And--take a message from me to
Richardson--" He stopped, startled. Indeed, Miss Lee and I had
both started. "To who's running the boat, anyhow? Singleton?"
"Mr. Singleton is a prisoner in the forward house," I said gravely.
The effect of this was astonishing. He stared at us both, and,
finding corroboration in Miss Lee's face, his own took on an instant
expression of relief. He dropped to the side of the bed, and his
color came slowly back. He even smiled--a crafty grin that was
inexpressibly horrible.
"Singleton!" he said. "Why do they--how do they know it was he?"
"He had quarreled with the captain last night, and he was on duty
at the time of the when the thing happened. The man at the wheel
claims to have seen him in the chartroom just before, and there was
other evidence, I believe.
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