Hattie Mc Cormick and the Patient Stowaway ( )

Log entry, the catch, scarlet queen, Philip Conny, master. Position, 14 degrees, 20 minutes south, 170 degrees, 40 minutes west. Sky fair wind brisk, remarks, departed pango, pango, islands of Tu Puyler, after involvement in murder.

Reason for involvement, Hattie McCormick and the patient stow away. It was a fair trip and a fast one down across the line from Christmas Island until we raised the atolls of the northern cooks. We touched there at Penrym, where we took on a cargo of fresh fruit for the American naval base at Pangal Pangal.

The wind deserted us after we cleared the harbor, and the Scarlet Queen rolled sluggishly through glassy water. From mats and rigging carried all the canvas we could send a loft. But it's hung there, barely disturbed by the faint, humid breeze.

The slow progress got to the crew, too. with the oppressive heat that pulled it their nerves, shortened their tempers. Even the gulls circling overhead were belly-a-akened. I was sweating out my trick at the wheel.

We were a day off the eastern tip of the twealer. When the monotony aboard the Scarlet Queen, suddenly came to an end. Hey, Skipper, look at the passenger I dug out at a ball-peak. My chief mate Gallagher was walking out toward me, pushing in front of him a burly, dark-haired man, whose face was covered with a three-day

a double of blue-black beard whose eyes looked out sullenly from beneath heavy brows. He ficked on at Penreny, says. I found him in the rope locker when I went in after some line. Who are you?

George Craven. You came aboard at Penren? That's right. Such a thing as working your passage instead of stealing it. I had to be sure. Yeah, sure that nobody saw you leave. Where you bound? Same place you were, pangle, pangle.