Deadly Shoals by Joan Druett Page B

same thing—and if stealing a ship ain’t piracy, then I don’t know what piracy is!”
    That was a good point, as Ringgold’s expression betrayed. He said reluctantly, “Maybe we could help you—if the schooner sails the high seas. But where does she sail? Tell me that!”
    â€œI can’t bloody well tell you that, because Adams has been murdered!” Stackpole exclaimed. “If I’d got to Rowland Hallett in time, I could’ve shaken it out of him, but he’s dead, too! He was hospitalized with gangrene, and died after that quack Ducatel cut off his bloody arm!”
    â€œSo I heard, and God bless his poor soul,” Ringgold said piously. “And as for Adams’s murder, I don’t intend to have anything to do with it. Murder’s a local matter.”
    â€œBut Adams was American!”
    â€œYou can’t expect us to go chasing after every Yankee adventurer who gets himself killed on foreign soil—it just ain’t practicable. Particularly when they seem to be as thick as fleas on a dog round these parts,” Ringgold added moodily, and then asked, “Have you informed the governor?”
    â€œOf course I’ve informed the bloody governor!” Stackpole cried, almost beside himself. “But it didn’t help a bloody jot! When I asked what happened to my thousand-dollar bank draft after Hallett expired, he informed me that Hallett’s possessions were handed in as the law required, and there wasn’t any draft among them. When I told him that someone in the fort sick bay must’ve stolen it, he dismissed me in a rage!”
    â€œWell, now that you’ve put it into his hands, you can’t expect me to interfere,” Ringgold snapped. “Not only would it be a diplomatic blunder, but Captain Wilkes would be cross. And it was most improper of you to requisition a member of our expedition to do your detective work! So good day to you, sir,” he concluded, and slapped on his hat with finality.
    Stackpole spluttered, but Ringgold simply ignored him, turning to Wiki and saying, “Well, it looks as if the robbery and the murder have already been reported to the governor, so there’s no need for you to involve yourself further. Dr. Ducatel has offered to guide us to the fort, so we don’t need you for that, neither.”
    â€œSo I return to the Sea Gull ?”
    â€œNo, you damn well don’t, because I ain’t finished with you yet. While Mr. Perry and Mr. Waldron and I are paying our respects to the governor, you’ll oblige me by taking Mr. Hale to the Indian camp.”
    Wiki said in surprise, “The toldos ?”
    â€œAye, if that’s what you call it. He wants to question the natives relative to their language. I believe they’re a confoundedly treacherous lot, so you’d better take your gaucho friends, too.”
    Mr. Hale looked rather apprehensive at the prospect of being left alone with Wiki and his gaucho band, but he didn’t say anything, instead taking a fresh grip of his reins. Then he watched and waited as Wiki consulted with Bernantio about this new mission. By the time they had finished, Dr. Ducatel and the three expedition officers were well off in the distance, trailing up the hill on their way to the fort.
    Wiki turned to Stackpole, who was moodily watching Ringgold and his companions retreat, and said, “Where’s your horse?”
    The whaling master jerked his thumb over his shoulder at a hitching post up the head of the street, and said, “Why?”
    â€œHave you talked to the Indians who went sealing with Rowland Hallett?”
    Stackpole lifted his hat and scratched his head.
    â€œWell, you should—so it would be a good idea to come along with us. Mr. Hale wants to make a list of Indian words, and while he’s at work you’ll have a chance to track down at least one of the men who went on that voyage.”
    â€œBut the