ff
very suddenly, then come too much chills, maybe collapse, maybe--" The
girl clutched his arm.

"You meant more than you said. It might mean death?"

"I don't know," replied Tamada gravely. "Perhaps, if now we have
morphine, presently we give him smaller dose every time, it will be all
right." He lifted up the sick man's hand and examined the nails
critically. They were broken, brittle.

Rainey had gone to Carlsen's room in search of the drug and the
injecting needle.

"How much d'ye suppose he took at once?" Lund asked the Japanese in a
low voice.

"Fifteen grains, I think. Maybe more. Too much! Always too much drug in
his veins. Much worse than opium for man."

"Carlsen's work," growled Lund. "Increased the stuff on him till he
couldn't do without it. Made him a slave to dope an' Carlsen his boss.
He deserved killin' jest for that, the skunk."

Rainey frantically searched through the medicine chest and, finding only
five tablets marked _Morphine 1 gr._ in a bottle, sought elsewhere in
vain. And he could find no needle. But he ran across some automatic
cartridges and put them in his pockets before he hurried back.

"This is not enough," said Tamada. "And we should have needle. But I
dissolve these in galley." And he hurried out. The girl had slipped down
on her knees beside the bed, holding her father's hand against her lips,
her eyes closed. She seemed to be praying.

Rainey and Lund looked at each other. Rainey was trying to recall
something. It came at last, the memory of Carlsen slipping something in
his pocket as he had come out of the captain's room. That had been the
hypodermic case! As the thought lit up' his eyes he saw a flash in
Lund's.

"Carlsen had the morphine on him," said Lund in a whisper, not to
disturb the girl.

"And the needle!" said Rainey. "What if?" He raced out of the cabin
forward, passing Tamada, coming out of the galley with the dissolved
tablets in a glass that steamed with hot water. Swiftly he told his
suspicions.

"They may have searched him first," he said, and went on to the hunters'
cabin. They were seated about their table, talking. On seeing Rainey
they stopped abruptly and viewed him suspiciously. Deming rose.

"What's the idea?" he asked and his tone was not friendly.

Rainey hurriedly explained. Deming shrugged his shoulders.

"They sewed him up in canvas in the fo'k'le," he said indifferently.
"None of us went through him. I think they made the kid do the j