We went out silently, Burns carrying the book, I
locking the door behind us.
Mrs. Johns, sitting near the companionway with the revolver on her
knee, looked up and eyed me coolly.
"So they would not do it!"
"I am sorry to disappoint you--they would not."
She held up my revolver to me, and smiled cynically.
"Remember," she said, "I only said you were a possibility."
"Thank you; I shall remember."
By unanimous consent, the task of putting down what had happened was
given to me. I have a copy of the log-book before me now, the one
that was used at the trial. The men read it through before they
signed it.
August thirteenth.
This morning, between two-thirty and three o'clock, three murders
were committed on the yacht Ella. At the request of Mrs. Johns, one
of the party on board, I had moved to the after house to sleep,
putting my blanket and pillow in the storeroom and sleeping on the
floor there. Mrs. Johns gave, as her reason, a fear of something
going wrong, as there was trouble between Mr. Turner and the captain.
I slept with a revolver beside me and with the door of the storeroom
open.
At some time shortly before three o'clock I wakened with a feeling
of suffocation, and found that the door was closed and locked on the
outside.
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