The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1899-06-09

| the OtHer Jumps in the DunkerS was lndl
| forty thousand pounds worth and few
mems lives lay in its nascent possibili-
| ties.
| On closer inspection, however, it re-
| vealed one little popularity, little
| square projection such as tny lady or
gentleman who does not use a stem
winder may see in his watch any night
of the week. Tom Tudors own watch
key, which he now tried upon it to see If
everything was in proper working order,
fitted it exactly as a matter of fact.
Another hour and it will be pretty
nearly dark. That will be my time" he
thought to himself with anything but
fiendish chucllle. As yet he was consid-
erably removed from the villain teres
atque rotundus of a sanguinary fiction
| OF a truth he was conscious at the mo-
ment of a curious sickness, a tickling in
| his stomach which not even the recent
| potato stew could account for No, it
| was the thought of the coming appall-
| ing moment of flame and death-and the
| captains daughter! When he had en-
| tered into this nefarious contract with
! certain unnamable people at home, he
| had not counted on this disturbing ele-
ment That he, hard hearted and hard
| headed scounCrel as he was, should feel
! this immense tenderness for a pretty all
| ing girl away with her father for
voyage on account of her health, was an
alteration beyond all calculation Was
it love? It worried and pricked him,
and it awakened old unwelcome chords
| in the atrophed sense of fitness which
had been his conscience. Yes it was
IA n nj n <
daughter
IF she hadn't been so hard on me last
night | could never have done it," ran
his thoughts, waking a fierce tenderness
in his sallow, handsome face. "a touch
of her hand and the Goshawll would
have stemmed the Thames river again!
Suppose the ship sank in a couple of
minutes, before they had time to lower
the boats! There are sharks about!
don't mind sending an old fireman or a
trimmer to hotter furnaces. But the
flop of the brutes round her sweet body!
It's horrible. BY heavens, I can't do it,
after ALL"
He bent his forehead against the
raised lid of his trunk. But Pm talk
ing bethel rot. The cursed thing is cal
culated to give the ship half an hour.
There'll be lots of time for everybody to
get clear except the poor fellows who get
blown to atoms from the stokehole.
Then the weather's quiet, and we're
right in the track of shps-certain to be
picked up within forty-eght hours"
He handled the black mass on his fin |
gers
Five turns Of the key, and then five
minutes before the explosion, every turn
minute If | push the job through III |
never tackle another God of heaven, / |
wish We We're all safe in the boats"
He replaced the grim handful of doom |
in its cradle again, replaced it IN its box,
and went up to the windy deck The !!
heat below laid fiery hand on his
throat and brain.
A slice of young moon. with few at
tendant stars, slowly climbed into lumi- |
nance against the last ardors Of the sun
set as he leaned modify against the
deckhouse.
How the misery hour caught up it's |
golden coin of minutes and fed
"Time-time, time-time, time time"
sang the watch bell monstrousy soon.
It's got to be done!' he muttered be-
tween his locked teeth, as he stepped UNI
steadily out OF the moonlight along the |
engine-room passage, once more un-
packed the fatal lump, turned the key
five times, and with flying heart de-
seconded the steel ladder to the engine
room, the bomb ticking in the loose
breast Of his shirt as he went.
'Hullo, Tudor Forgot your Jacket"
sang ont the chief, as he stopped over
the rails and tried the heat of his bear
ings
aye" replied the third engineer, as
he passed.
In the fierce tunnel of light from one
of the open furnaces the nude stohers.
and a trimmer piling forward the coal
to them from behind, seemed like
gnomes of some eastern legend. Poor
devilsl A chatter like the sound of
sewing machine from the thing in his
breast seemed to chant their requiem.
He slipped the plack abortion below
an end of one of the boilers, caught UP
his Jacket and ran on deck Under the
shadow of one of the after lifeboats he
stood, sick with terrible expectancy,
awaiting the end with his watch in his