The Press., 1893-12-28
The Crime of Edmund ChallOner.
By JAMES KNAPP REEVE.

Copyright, 1885, by American Press .Associa-
 tion.
 When the steamer Pelican set sail from the port of Vera Cruz for Havana on the afternoon of Jan. 23 19i--. 1t had before it as fair prospect for fair voyage as ever did ship that put to sea.
 The passengers, mostly tourists who had come down the long rail route through Mexico or across from that ocean which is misna1ned the Pacific, lounged contentedly about the decks and congratulated themselves that their lines had fallen in pleasant places
 The voyage was begun upon Saturday. Sunday morning dawned eleS,' and bright. The sea was without ripple, except as the sharp brow of the ship cut through it. The water lay like mass of molten silver, and the hot sun beat upon it and was reflected back as from shield.
 The captain ordered awnings stretched upon the decks. and beneath their shade the passengers lollnged and read novels and slipped ices which the steward brought and dozed.
 Just before nightfall a little cloud came up out of the south. It was the forerunner of one of those storms which sweep the southern seas so swiftly and so terribly.
 By the time the sun was fairly below the horizon the storm was upon them. The passengers. who had hurried below, could hear the rain flashing upon the decks, feel the wind and waves sweep ing against the ship and see at intervals the wild and vivid play of the lightning.
 The calm sea was churned into a mass of angry foam that seethed and leaped about the ship, but the beating of the great engines never ceased, and the ship held steadily upon its course.
 Except when the lightning revealed the tossing sea it was but sailing for ward into the ocean of inky and impen- etrable blackness Such night demands confidence in your captain and your compass.
 The captain himself held the wheel and took sailors grim delight ill watching how nobly his vessel with stood the buffeting of the storm.
 A single passenger, for whom the con- tention of the clements seemed to have no terror, stood little within the shelter of the pilothouse. When the lightning played, the man at the wheel looked down and observed him curiously.
 My friend, you seem to like this sort of thing" he said.
 '.Yes, it is a diversion, the other an- swered briefly.
 The storm had awakened the social element that usually lay dormant be- heath the captains gruff exterior. He seemed disposed toward conversation.
 Come, I like that" he said, then add ed questioningly, ''you are not seafar- ing man?'
 "No."
 The wind was driving the ship so fiercely that the wheel for time demand ed the captains whole attention.
 When the lightning revealed the pas senger again, he stood with head bent down, like one who listens.
 In an instant all was black again, but out from thesdarkness the captain heard the strangers voice asking quietly:
 Are you sure of your course, sir!"
 "Sure," said the officer firmly; ''Ihave been over it too often to make any mis- take. 1 Cdu lSctI l4llS Scd 1Ihc d UOOh HI 8 blacker night than this.''
 Nevertheless" replied the other quite as firmly, Il have just heard whistling buoy, and that would be impossible upon your true course.'
 Tut! You are crazyr said the cap- tain sharply. ''There is no whistling buoy nearer than Captiva island inlet. and that is a good 20. miles away. You must have sharp ears.'
 ''It was the Captiva buoy that I heard.
 The captain muttered an oath.
 Who are youT" he cried.
 They call me the king of Captiva," said the other. Even as he spoke there came to both distinctly in the pauses of the storm, the melancholy soughing note of the whistling buoy so close and so distinct that there was no chance for question even had there been time. But simultaneously there came shock that made the ship tremble from stem to stern.
 The captain signaled to reverse the engines, but before the order could be obeyed the waves had lifted the ship, carried it forward and let it fall again with an awful crash and breaking and straining of timbers.