the injured man's clothing, was searching among the blankets on which
he lay. There was no key. I went out to the men again, bewildered.
The dawn had come, a pink and rosy dawn that promised another
stifling day. It revealed the disarray of the deck--he basins, the
old mahogany amputating-case with its lock plate of bone, the stained
and reddened towels; and it showed the brooding and overcast faces of
the men.

"Isn't it there?" I asked. "Our agreement was for me to carry the
key to Singleton's cabin and Burns the captain's."

Miss Lee, by the rail, came forward slowly, and looked up at me.

"Isn't it possible," she said, "that, knowing where the key was,
some one wished to get it, and so--" She indicated the tent and
Burns.

I knew then. How dull I had been, and stupid! The men caught her
meaning, too, and we tramped heavily forward, the girl and I leading.

The door into the captain's room was open, and the axe was gone from
the bunk. The key, with the cord that Burns had worn around his neck,
was in the door, the string torn and pulled as if it had been jerked
away from the unconscious man. Later on we verified this by finding,
on the back of Bums's neck an abraded line two inches or so in length.

It was a strong cord--the kind a sailor pins his faith to, and uses
indiscriminately to hold his trousers or his knife.

I ordered a rigid search of the deck, but the axe was gone. Nor was