The boy inherits a great fortune from his
mother. Mr. Knapp and I are left trustees by the mother's will. If he
had control of the boy, the boy would die; but it would be from
cruelty, disease, neglect. It would not be murder in the eye of the
law. But I know what would happen. Oh, see the wretch! How he hates
me!"
I was stunned with the words I had heard. They made much plain that had
puzzled me, yet they left much more in darkness; and I looked blankly
at the figure on the other tug. It was truly a strange sight. The man
was beside himself with rage, shouting, gesticulating and leaping about
the deck in transports of passion. He showed every mark of a maniac.
Suddenly he drew a revolver and sent shot after shot in our direction.
We were far beyond the reach of a pistol bullet, but Mrs. Knapp
screamed and dodged.
"How he hates me!" she cried again.
When the last shot was gone from his revolver the man flung the weapon
in frenzy, as though he could hope to strike us thus.
Then a strange thing happened. Whether due to the effort he had made in
the throw, or to a lurch of the tug in the waves we left behind us, or
to a stumble over some obstruction, I could not say. But we saw the man
suddenly pitch forward over the low bulwarks of the tug into the waters
of the bay.
Mrs. Knapp gave a scream and covered her eyes.
"Stop the boat!" I shouted. "Back her!"
The other tug had checked its headway at the same time, and there was a
line of six or seven men along its side.
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