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THE DEMON CRUISER.

BY
R. L. WHEELER.

_Copyright, 1909, by James Sullivan._

_All Rights Reserved._


Published by
THE ARTHUR WESTBROOK COMPANY
Cleveland, Ohio, U. S. A.

(Printed in the United States of America)




TABLE OF CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                            PAGE

I.      A Dark Deed                                   9

II.     The Box                                      14

III.                                                 19

IV.     Lashed and Adrift                            25

V.      The Island                                   30

VI.     The Vision                                   36

VII.    The Attack                                   40

VIII.   Drifting On                                  46

IX.     Driven Away                                  50

X.      Haunted                                      55

XI.     On the Ledge                                 61

XII.    Captured                                     65

XIII.   Walled In                                    71

XIV.    In the Tree                                  75

XV.     Out of the Tree                              80

XVI.    The Fire-Chasm                               85

XVII.   Unexpected                                   89

XVIII.  Conclusion                                   96




THE DEMON CRUISER.




CHAPTER I.

A DARK DEED.


The ship _Maxwell_, Captain Roberts, homeward bound from Australia to
New York, was bowling along upon her course under full sail.

It was a dark night, unrelieved save by the phosphor gleam of the seas
around the vessel, and the light of the two lanterns hung up in the
fore and mizzen rigging.

The _Maxwell_ had one passenger--a gentleman named William Manton,
who, having accumulated a fortune at Australia, was now returning
to the United States, where his wife had died during his absence,
but where he expected to find his daughter, Mary, and a young man of
nineteen years old, living with an aunt in New York.

In an iron box the passenger carried his fortune--gold pieces,
amounting in all to five hundred thousand dollars.

He kept the box locked up in his chest, which was provided with a
patent lock, so arranged that it could not possibly be opened without
a great deal of noise.

Occasionally Mr. Manton would go to this chest, and, taking out his
money, look at it to see that all was safe. He was by no means either
greedy or miserly; but he felt very anxious and careful about this
money intended for his beloved child. That his death was not many
years distant, he felt sure, as he had long suffered from an incurable
complaint of the liver.

This might be detected now in his sallow skin, sunken cheeks, and
hollow eyes, as in his room he bent over his box--counting the bright,
yellow pieces of gold.

In every other respect, Mr. Manton was a fine looking old gentleman,
being broad-shouldered and strong, with long arms, erect form, and
piercing glance.

There was upon his face, at present, a look of intense satisfaction,
as coin after coin, in hard, shining pieces passed through his hands.

"Ay," he muttered at length, "my girl will never be poor!"

As he spoke, a sudden chill passed through the old man's frame; a
shudder as if an ice-bolt had come in contact with his body.

He could not divine the cause; but, had he taken pains to glance
quickly behind him, up at a small opening in his door, he would have
known that it was the magnetism of the pair of evil-looking eyes there
which had chilled his blood.

The eyes belonged to a rough, square, dark-skinned face, the owner of
which was the third mate, Mr. Brand--a man of Portuguese extraction,
whom the captain had shipped at Australia, to take the place of his
other third officer, lost overboard in a gale.

Brand was an excellent sailor, but a reckless, good-for-nothing fellow
at heart; a cruel, bloody-thirsty wretch, who had committed almost
every crime one can imagine, except murder!

Still it was evident the man had a conscience, as he would sometimes
get to thinking of the evil course he had pursued, and resolve to
reform.

Alas! for reformation! rum was his God, and in this he would soon
drown all his better feelings, and keep getting worse and hardened
until he grew to be a perfect devil!

Captain Roberts had known nothing of this when he shipped the third
mate, who could play the hypocrite to perfection