CHAPTER XVII   THE AXE IS GONE

 My first thought was of the after house.  Jones, who had been fond of Burns, was working over him, muttering to himself.  I felt his heart, which was beating slowly but regularly, and, convinced that he was not dying, ran down into the after house.  The cabin was empty: evidently the guard around the pearl handled revolver had been given up on the false promise of peace.  All the lights were going, however, and the heat was suffocating.

I ran to Miss Lee's door, and tried it.  It was locked, but almost instantly she spoke from inside:

"What is it?"

"Nothing much.  Can you come out?"

She came a moment later, and I asked her to call into each cabin to see if every one was safe.  The result was reassuring - no one had been disturbed; and I was put to it to account to Miss Lee for my anxiety without telling her what had happened.  I made some sort of excuse, which I have forgotten, except that she evidently did not believe it.

On deck, the men were gathered around Burns.  There were ominous faces among them, and mutterings of hatred and revenge; for Burns had been popular - the best-liked man among them all.  Jones, wrought to the highest pitch, had even shed a few shamefaced tears, and was obliterating the humiliating memory by an extra brusqueness of manner.

We carried the injured man aft, and with such implements as I had I cleaned and dressed the wound.  It needed sewing, and it seemed best to do it before he regained consciousness.  Jones and Adams went below to the forecastle, therefore, and brought up my amputating set, which contained, besides its knives, some curved needles and surgical silk, still in good condition.

I opened the case, and before the knives, the long surgeon's knives which were in use before the scalpel superseded them, they fell back, muttering and amazed.

I did not know that Elsa Lee also was watching until, having requested Jones, who had been a sail maker, to thread the needles, his trembling hands refused their duty.  I looked up, searching the group for a competent assistant, and saw the girl.  She had dressed, and the light from the lantern beside me on the deck threw into relief her white figure among the dark ones.  She came forward as my eyes fell on her.

"Let me try," she said; and, kneeling by the lantern, in a moment she held out the threaded needle.  Her hand was quite steady.  She made an able assistant, wiping clean the oozing edges of the wound so that I could see to clip the bleeding vessels, and working deftly with the silk and needles to keep me supplied.  My old case yielded also a roll or so of bandage.  By the time Burns was attempting an incoordinate movement or two, the operation was over and the instruments put out of sight.

His condition was good.  The men carried him to the tent, where Jones sat beside him, and the other men stood outside, uneasy and watchful, looking in.

The operating-case, with its knives, came in for its share of scrutiny, and I felt that an explanation was due the men.  To tell the truth, I had forgotten all about the ca