Beyond the Poseidon Adventure by Paul Gallico Read Free Book Online Page A

rights.”
    “Possibly.” Klaas was not too enthusiastic. “It is a precaution, I suppose. But what really concerns me, Jason, is why that helicopter returned and those men got out. I think there were three.”
    A frown also crossed Jason’s face, “I made it three too. I don’t get it. What makes survivors come back to a sinking ship? And one of them, that guy in the undershirt, looked like a cop to me.”
    “You can tell a cop at that distance in the middle of the ocean?” Klaas looked even more worried.
    “I could recognize a cop on a dark night in China,” Jason said. He saw the older man’s concern and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Klaas. If he is a cop he’ll keep an eye on me for you.”
    The Dutchman looked up at the tall young man. “Frankly, Jason, I am not happy about the whole thing. I think it is about time you told us of your business on board this vessel too.”
    The American’s face tightened as Coby echoed her father’s request. “Please tell us,” she said.
    Jason moved to the deck rail, weighing in his hand a grappling iron on a length of nylon line. With a steady overarm swing he sent the iron lobbing through the air and over the hoisting bracket above the propeller.
    “First time!” he called over his shoulder. He tugged the rope sharply, several times. It was secure.
    Then he faced them again and said, “I told you. I have business on the Poseidon. One small part of that cargo belongs to me, and I’m going to have it. That may be enough for you, it may not, but it’s all I can tell you. Beyond that you’ve got to trust me.”
    Almost too quickly, Coby came back, “We do, don’t we, papa?”
    After a lifetime at sea, Klaas was not a man who made decisions based on flimsy facts. He liked the man. He liked the look of him, the set of him, and the way he handled himself around a boat. But he was still only a stranger they had plucked off the sea’s surface. He pushed back the cap on his graying, springy hair and the bewilderment was there, plainly registered on his face.
    “I shall wait and see, Captain Jason. I hope I shall not be disappointed.”
    Jason was leaning back on the line, testing its hold by bracing one leg against the side of the Poseidon. “It’s a fairly straight walk up to the top where those other guys got in. Let’s go see what gives in there.”
    The Dutchman moved across and touched his sleeve. Klaas said, “Well? Will I be disappointed?”
    With no more effort than he would make to walk across the deck, Jason moved quickly up the line, legs stiff against the hull, hands working alternately. He was near the top when his answer carried down, “It’s a disappointing world, Captain Klaas.”
    Klaas shrugged his shoulders at Coby. What was he to think? He had asked the man for some sort of promise, and been repaid with cynical flippancy. There was too much mystery here. He did not like mysteries. The whispering men in waterfront bars who wanted undisclosed consignments dropped off near the coast at night. Nameless passengers who wished to travel without the formalities of customs and passports. Klaas had turned his back on them all. His workworn freighter with its limping engine provided him with an honest, uncomplicated trade that matched his nature. Jason and his mysteries could only mean trouble.
    “Please, papa.” Coby had followed his tumbling doubts. “He is a good man, I know it. Please?”
    Klaas struggled with three emotions, his life-long instinct to avoid trouble, his love for his daughter, and a curious but irritating doubt that he might have misjudged the American. They looked up and saw Jason astride the propeller-shaft housing. “Hey, there. Come on up here, and bring the rope ladder and the lanterns with you. Or do you need a bosun’s chair?”
    Klaas stuffed his pipe into his pocket, and tucked the ready-rolled rope ladder under his arm. “Who does he think I am—Rip Van Winkle?” Coby’s relieved laughter followed