han throw up his hands.

Jones had not finished. He went back to the chart-room and possibly
even went on deck and took a look at the wheel. Then he went down
again and killed the Hansen woman.

He was exceedingly cunning. He flung the axe into the room, and was up
and at the wheel again, all within a few seconds. To tear off and fold
up the sheet, to hide it under near-by cordage, to strike the ship's
bell and light his pipe--all this was a matter of two or three minutes.
I had only time to look at Vail. When I got up to the wheel, Jones was
smoking quietly.

I believe he tried to get Singleton later, and failed. But he
continued his devotions on the forward deck, visible when clad in his
robe, invisible when he took it off. It was Jones, of course, who
attacked Burns and secured the key to the captain's cabin; Jones who
threw the axe overboard after hearing the crew tell that on its handle
were finger-prints to identify the murderer; Jones who, while on guard
in the after house below, had pushed the key to the storeroom under
Turner's door; Jones who hung the marlinespike over the side, waiting
perhaps for another chance at Singleton; Jones, in his devotional
attire, who had frightened the crew into hysteria, and who, discovered
by Mrs. Johns in the captain's cabin, had rushed by her, and out, with
the axe. It is noticeable that he made no attempt to attack her. He
killed only in obedience to his signal, and he had had no signal.

Perhaps the most curious thing, after the murderer was known, was the
story of the people in the after house. It was months before I got
that in full. The belief among the women was that Turner, maddened by
drink and unreasoning jealousy, had killed Vail, and then, running
amuck or discovered by the other victims, had killed them. This was
borne out by Turner's condition. His hands and parts of his clothing
were blood-stained.

Their condition was pitiable. Unable to speak for himself, he lay
raving in his room, talking to Vail and complaining of a white figure
that bothered him. The key that Elsa Lee picked up was another clue,
and in their attempt to get rid of it I had foiled them. Mrs. Johns,
an old friend and, as I have said, an ardent partisan, undertook to get
rid of the axe, with the result that we know. Even Turner's recovery
brought little courage. He could only recall that he had gone into
Vail's room and tried to wake him, without result; that he did not kn