The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1899-08-15
A LUMP
OF COAL,
! A3AaAAAMA4@As@AAa&AaAAA
What Happened to an Engineer
ON the Eve of q Crime.

French survey in 1861, and as any
amount of unrecorded changes might
have been wrought since then by that
minute mason of the deep, the coral
insect, Captain Grimshaw was very
much on the qui vive so long as his
ship was in the neighborhood. For,
being a wise master mariner, he de-
pended but little on either the chart or
the Abrolhos light itself.
But If the captain did not fancy this
particular patch Of the sea for reasons
relating to navigation, the third engi-
neer did for purposes of his own. In
short, he hoped to earn the ships in
surance money and couple Of hun
dred pounds for himself somewhere in
the vicinity. 1t was an excellent local
ity for plausible story about the Cos
hawk running on some uncharted
shoal and sinking as she backed into
deep water So when he was relieved
of his half watch at 6 o'clock by the
chief engineer he went straight to the
engine room mess table for his tea.
carefully forgetting his blue jacket
where it hung on a rail on the forward
side of the engine room bulkhead
Having partaken hastily and spar
ingly of the bad tea and potato hash
supplied. he turned into his own room,
locked the door and arranged a pair Of
trousers to hang so that one of the
legs might cover the keyhole. Then he
knelt, though not exactly in prayer be-
side his sea chest and proceeded to I'M
pack 1t, till at length he reached a
small wooden box with sliding top.
At first sight it did not appear why his
hand should tremble a little as he pull
ed the lid aside and drew from it's well
wadded cradle a very commonplace
lump of coal.
1t was exactly like any other piece of
COAL about the size of large fist-say
the mate's-and it had all the jetty
sparkle and shine of the newly broken
article. The only difference between it
and the other Jumps in the bunkers
was that 100000 worth and a few
mems lives lay in its nascent possibili-
ties. On closer inspection, it re-
vealed one little popularity. little
SJudLC PIOJCCllOn SUN do any AANJ "a
gentleman who does not use stem
winder may see in his watch any night
of the week. Tom Tudor's 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
l.
thought to himself with anything but a
| fiendish chuckle. AS yet he was consid-
erably removed from the villain teres
atque rotundus of sanguinary fiction.
| OF truth he was conscious at the mo-
ment of a curious sickness tickling
in his stomach which not even the re-
cent potato stew could account for. No,
it was the thought Of the coming ap-
paIling moment of flame and death
and the captains daughter.
Course the captains daughter! When
| he had entered into this nefarious con-
| tract with certain unnanlable people at
home, he had not counted on this dis
turbing element. That he. hard heart
| ed and hard headed scoundrel as he
was, should feel this immense tender
ness for pretty ailing girl, away with
| her father for a voyage on account of
| her health, was an alteration beyond
all calculation Was it love? 1t wor-
ried and pricked him. and 1t awakened
| old unwelcome chords in the atrophied
sense of fitness which had been his
conscience Yes, it was love, and
bless Alice. the captains daughter!
'If she hadn't been so hard on me
| last night, could never have done it,
ran his thoughts. waking fierce ten
derness In his sallow, handsome face.
"a touch of her hand, and the Cos
hawk would have stemmed the
Thames river again. Suppose the ship
sank in couple of minutes, before
they had time to lower the boats!
There are sharks about l don't mind
sending an old fireman or trimmer to
hotter furnaces. But the flop of the
brutes round her sweet body! It's hor-
rible. By heavens, / can't do 1t, after
ALP
He bent his forehead against the
raised lid of his trunk. But I'm 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 ships
certain to be picked up within As
| hours"
He handled the black mass on his
| fingers.
Five turns of the key, and then five
minutes before the explosion, every
turn a minute! If l push the job
through, I'll never tackle another. God
of heaven, l wish we were all safe in
the boatSw
He replaced the grim handful Of
doom In it's cradle again, replaced it in
it's box and went up to the windy deck.
The heat below laid a fiery hand on his
throat and brain.
| A slice of young moon, with a few at
tendant stars, slowly climbed into lu-
minance against the last ardors of the
sunset as he leaned moodily against
the deckhouse.
How the misery hour caught up its
golden coin of minutes and fed!
"Time-time, time-time, time-timeY'
sang the watch bell monstrously soon.
ITS got to be donew he muttered be-
! tween his locked teeth as he stepped
unsteadily out of the moonlight along
the engine room passage, once more
unpacked the fatal lump, turned the
key five times and with flying heart
descended the steel ladder to the en-
CINE room, the bomb ticking in the
loose breast of his shirt as he went.
"Hullo, Tudor! Forgot your jacket?''
sang out 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 stokers
and a trimmer piling forward the coal
to them from behind seemed like
gnomes of some eastern legend. Poor
devils! A chatter like the sound of a
sewing machine from the thing in his
breast seemed to chant their requiem.
He slipped the black 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 hand. Two minutes gone! Threel
Z, Then little figure in white came
forward out of the darkness of the
poopdeck. 1t was the captains daugh-
ter.
''Is that you, Mr.. Tudor" she said.
yes" he replied hoarsely. Three
minutes and half gone.
Ill 1.