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diff --git a/old/13836.txt b/old/13836.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb60967 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13836.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8531 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Wide Courses, by James Brendan Connolly + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Wide Courses + +Author: James Brendan Connolly + +Release Date: October 22, 2004 [eBook #13836] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIDE COURSES*** + + +E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua +Hutchinson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 13836-h.htm or 13836-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/8/3/13836/13836-h/13836-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/8/3/13836/13836-h.zip) + + + + + +WIDE COURSES + +by + +JAMES BRENDAN CONNOLLY + +Author of _Out of Gloucester_, _The Seiners_, _The Deep Sea's Toil_, +_The Crested Seas_, _An Olympic Victor_, _Open Water_, Etc. + +With Illustrations + +1912 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: My boy wanted to do the divin', but 'twas me that went +down] + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE WRECKER + +LAYING THE HOSE-PIPE GHOST + +THE SEIZURE OF THE "AURORA BOREALIS" + +LIGHT-SHIP 67 + +CAPTAIN BLAISE + +DON QUIXOTE KIERAN, PUMP-MAN + +JAN TINGLOFF + +COGAN CAPEADOR + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +My boy wanted to do the divin', but 'twas me that went down + +He brings out the blue-book and shows the boson + +Sam made a couple of tremendous swipes, and then down went the +_Aurora's_ captain and one of his crew + +By and by he caught an answering call + +After a long look I saw that he did not resume his narrative. By +that I knew that the stranger was troubling him + +There she was, the _Dancing Bess_, holding a taut bowline to the +eastward. And there were the two frigates, but they might as well +have been chasing a star + +"Don't call me a mutineer, captain--I've disobeyed no order" + +He said he hoped they'd meet again next day and bowed himself out + + + + +The Wrecker + + +Sometimes the notion comes to me while I'm talkin' to people that maybe +I don't make myself clear, and it's been so for some time now--the +things I see in my mind fadin' away from me at times, like ships in a +fog. And that's strange enough, too, if what people tell me so often is +true--that it used to be so one time that the office clerks would +correct their account-books by what I told 'em out of my head. But +sometimes--not often--things come back to me, like to-day--maybe because +'tis a winter day and a gale o' wind drivin' the sea afore it in the bay +below there. Things come to me then--like pictures--wind and sea and fog +and the wrecks on a lee shore. + +In my business--but of course you know--runnin' after wrecks, from +Newfoundland to Cuba, I had to be days and maybe weeks away from +home--which was no harm when I had no more home than a room in a +sailor's boardin'-house, and no harm later with Sarah. Even if anything +happened to me, I used to feel that Sarah--that's my first +wife--Sarah'd still have the two lads to hearten her and keep her busy; +but 'twas different with--but there, my mind's off again.... + +Maybe some things--comforts, refinements--I might 'a' practised myself +in, got used to 'em like, but could I see in those early days that I'd +ever have a grand home--me who'd been cast away at fourteen--even if I'd +had time? It was to be able to do without comforts--to make a pleasure +out o' hardship--that meant success almost as much as knowin' the +business. And I did know my business in those days--or people lied a +lot. And it always meant more to me--the name of bein' the great +wrecker--than all the money I made, and in those last few years I made +plenty of it--I did that. Me who once slaved for six dollars a month as +boy in a Bangor coaster. And I mind how I used to look back and say--or +was it somebody tellin' me?--that 'twas a great day for me and mine when +the old lumber schooner wrecked herself on Peaked Hill Bar--because when +she was hove down I was hove into a bigger world. Once in my pride I +used to cherish praise like that--but sometimes now I'm not so sure. + +And this man, an upstandin' handsome man--no one that knew him but spoke +well of him, to me anyway, for I would not allow aught else after I come +to know him. Since that last wreck it seems to me I've listened to +other talk of him, but that's not so clear to me ... my brain, as I say, +clouds up like on things that happened since. + +No one ever met Her--my second wife, that is--but said she was beautiful +and good--said so to me, anyway. It is true--but that came afterward, +like the other talk, and it's not too clear in my mind what they did +say. But he came to me and I liked him. And he liked me, too ... I think +he did. He'd heard of me, he said, and would I examine his yacht--the +_Rameses_ that was--to see if any damage had been done--she'd grounded +comin' in by Romer Shoal the day before. There'd be too much delay to +put her in dry dock, and he wanted to sail soon's could be--if she was +sound--on her regular winter West India cruise. 'Twas in January, a fine +clear day, and I said, all right, I'd send my oldest boy down and look +at her. My oldest boy--but you know him? Aye, a grand lad. Both grand +lads. Modelled off their mother, the pair of them. If I'd only a +daughter like her ... the woman she was! A wife for a seafarin' man. +"Watch and watch I've stood wi' ye," she said, goin'--"watch and watch, +but I'm no good to see the lights nor to grip the wheel longer. The +sight's gone and the strength, Matt. Watchmate, bunkmate, and shipmate +I've been to ye, but ye're in smooth water now ... and no longer ye'll +need me." A daughter to stand by you she'd be. All my money I'd give +for one such. + +And while he was in the office She came in. "Ah-h!" he said--and then, +"Your daughter, captain?" I said, "No--my wife," maybe o'er-proudly. I +was not ashamed of my years, for it's not years but age--leastwise so +I'd always held--that sets a man back. Those lads of twenty-five or +thirty, I could wear them down like chalk whetstones. Maybe she heard--I +don't know; but she didn't let on she did. My proud days those were--my +office in the big building by the Battery. You remember? Aye, a grand +place--the name in fine letters on the door, and on the window the +picture of my big wreckin'-tug, the best-geared afloat and cost the +most--a sailor's fortune just in her--yes--and I'd named it for Her. And +'twas to that same office I used often to come straight from my rough +seawork. She used to come there to take me to drive. Me, who'd been a +castaway sailor-boy--but I could afford all these things then. I could +afford anything She wanted. And She wanted the fine office, and so it +was fitted up with fine desks and clerks, though it wasn't what the +clerks put in their account-books that kept my business goin'. There +were those who said that I'd pay the price some day for tryin' to carry +so many things in my head, but small heed I paid to them--and 'twasn't +in those days my memory dimmed. + +There was but little damage to the yacht's bottom--a small matter to +find that out--though the skipper he carried was no master of craft. +So many of them like that, too. To face the sea like men is not +what they're after, not to take winter or summer as it comes, rough +or smooth--no--but always the smooth water and soft winds. But +he did not sail for the West Indies that day, nor that week, nor +winter--something'd gone wrong with the machinery. No concern of mine +that. There were those who said later--but that was when my head begun +to trouble me--as it does now sometimes, as I said. There was a time, +when Sarah was alive, before we had even the old ship's cabin on the end +of the old dock by way of an office, when I carried my business in a +wallet in my breast pocket--that is, what we didn't carry in our +heads--but the mother of those two lads, she was with me then. That's +long ago. + +A most interestin' man he was. As I say, he made no West India cruise +that winter--the machinery kept gettin' out of order--but he made a few +trips with me--wreckin' trips--for I still looked after the big jobs +myself. There were those who used to say that if I'd only learned to +stand by and look on long enough to train a good man to take my place +in the deep divin', that I'd be goin' yet. Maybe so, but maybe, too, +they didn't know it all. I'd yet to meet a man who would do my work half +as well as I could myself--never but one, and she was a woman and could +do her part better--Sarah, my first wife, and her kind aren't livin' +now. + +He was not so soft, this yacht man, as I used to think. He stood the +rough winter trips with me well. I learned to like him--rarely. I could +talk to him about the work, and he'd try to understand--as so few of his +kind would. He understood better after he'd been some trips with me, and +I came to love him--almost. When I was away on those trips, my wife +would be at home--until the time her aunt took sick. I recollect her +speakin' of her aunt--or did I? No matter. She lived out West somewhere, +and didn't want her to marry me--or so I made out. I didn't go too deep +into it. When she hinted that she hadn't told me of her aunt before for +fear of hurtin' my feelin's, it was enough. Women feel things more than +men, and no use to rake 'em over. I knew I was a rough man, not the kind +many women folks might take to--I never quite got over Her likin' +me--nor did a whole lot of people--and 'twas natural a woman of the kind +her aunt must be, didn't like her marryin' a man like me. But no matter; +her aunt was bein' reconciled, she used to write me, and when your wife +is makin' up to her only livin' relative, and she dyin', it's no time to +be exactin'. So she stayed on in the West. I've forgotten where--Chicago +maybe?--too far, anyway, for me to go to her, because I had to stand +ready in my business to leave at a minute's notice. A gale c'd rise in +an hour, the coast be cluttered with wrecks in one day. And there were +so many big people, steamboat people and big shippin' firms, who counted +on me, would 'a' been disappointed, you see, if I wasn't on deck when +needed. It's something, after all, to be honest in your work all your +life, not leave it to careless helpers. + +He lost his interest in the wreckin' after a while, and natural, too. He +hadn't to build up his family's name or provide a livin' for anybody by +it. And her aunt still lingered, she wrote. And then I wrote that I +would give up the business if she said so, and go out there. I could +begin again--there was great shippin' on the lakes--better sell out a +hundred wreckin' plants than be so much apart, for it's terrible to be +comin' from the sea and never find the woman afore ye. But she +telegraphed to wait, she would be home soon, and she wanted to see me, +too, about something partic'lar. That was the night before the Portland +breeze--in the year o' the war with Spain--yes, '98 that would be, the +year the _Portland_ went down on Middle Bank with all on board. A +foolish loss that, and nobody ever went to jail for it; but it's mostly +that way, nobody sufferin' for it--but the families o' the lost +ones--when passenger ships go down at sea. + +There was half a dozen steamboat firms telegraphin' and telephonin' the +morning after that storm, and I had to leave without waitin' till she +got home. There was a wreck off Cape Cod, and that kept me away a week, +and I was hurryin' back by way of Boston. And I saw him--me hurryin' up +Atlantic Avenue to take the train and him headed for the docks. I hailed +him. There was a rumor--'twas in the papers--that I'd gone down with the +wreck I'd been workin' on off Cape Cod--Chatham way--but of course no +one who knew me well believed it. But he must've believed it, +for--"What, you!" he says--not even puttin' in the "Captain" that he +never before forgot. I missed that little word from him--and he didn't +look at me the same--him that had always such a friendly way with me. He +seemed to be in a great hurry, and so I left him without more talk. He +did not even tell me that the _Rameses_ was in the harbor and he leavin' +on her, but the thought of that came later. + +I had to stop off at Newport, to get things started for another wreck +there, and that took me the rest of that day and the next, and then I +was all ready to take the night boat for New York, but my oldest boy +came hurryin' down the dock to me, and an old lady--no--not so old, but +lookin' old--with him. And they told me how the _Rameses_, that had left +Boston the morning before, 'd been wrecked off Gay Head durin' the night +and sunk; and this was his mother, and she wanted me to go to the wreck +right away and see if I could find and bring up his body. + +I wanted to go home--a week of days and nights--and I was tired, too, +and not easy to tire me in those days, but I thought of him and the +trust he had in the skipper that didn't know his business, and I looks +at my boy and at his mother, and Sarah's face came to me; and who's to +gainsay a woman whose son lies drowned? So my boy and me we put out that +night and was there next morning in our big wreckin'-tug. + +'Twas a cold day, but clear, only there was a big sea runnin', makin' it +dangerous, everybody said, to be lyin' alongside her. And, I suppose +because o' that, my boy wanted to do the divin', but 'twas me that went +down and fastened the chains so she wouldn't slip off into the deep +water; and then I came up to rest, and it was while I was up restin' +that the chains slipped and she slid off and on to a ledge twenty +fathoms down. Twenty fathoms is deep water for divin'--but one or two 'd +been that deep before, and what one man has done another can do--and I'd +promised the mother to bring her son home to her. + +I went down and made fast the chains again, and then I went inside her +to make one job of it, though I'd told the lad I'd come up after I'd +made fast the chains. I needed no pilot--I'd been on her often +enough--though I did find use for the patent electric hand-light I'd +carried. Down the big staircase I went, through the big saloon, and +toward his quarters I felt my way--through the fine cabin and the marble +bath-room and his own room--all as rich and comfortable as in his own +home ashore. + +It was deep down, as I said--maybe too deep to be stayin' so long--but +I'd never known what it was to give up on a job, and I kept on. + +I found him ... and he wasn't alone. + +And hard enough it was on me, for never a hint had I of it. 'Twas my boy +hauled me up that day. No signal o' mine, but I was gone so long he +feared I'd come to harm below. + +When I found myself better I made ready to go down again, for once +you've promised to do a thing there's nothin' but to do it. But just as +they were about to slip my helmet on, me with my foot on the ladder, +the chain that was holding her slipped again, and into two hundred +fathoms she went--too deep for any diver in this world ever to raise +her. + +I thought of his mother and I grieved for her, and it was the first job, +too, that ever I'd messed. + +"Never mind," says my son. "Twas me, not you. Nobody that knows you, +father, will blame you." A great lad that, and his brother, too--off +their mother's model--both of 'em. Sarah said I'd never have to worry +about them, and I haven't, but I wish she'd lived to have the joy of +them. + +I don't remember much more of that, but when I got back to the office +there was a letter from her. But I never read it. Nothing it could tell +me then that I hadn't already guessed. + +'Isn't often now it comes so to me, things being' generally dim in my +mind, as I say, slipping away and drawing nigh, like ships in a lifting +fog-but to-day--like that day--a winter's day and sunny and cold--with +the seas running like white-maned ponies before the gale in the bay +below there--as it is now--always on a day like this it comes clearer to +me. + + + + +LAYING THE HOSE-PIPE GHOST + + +Sometimes, for one reason or another, or perhaps without reason at all, +it just happens. So, say a handful of gossiping yeomen find themselves +together, and when that comes about, from some member (if the session +stretches to any length at all) is sure to come a story of particular +interest to the guild; and perhaps it ought to be explained that a +yeoman's story is never mistaken in the Navy for a stoker's, a gunner's, +a quartermaster's; never for anybody's but a yeoman's. + +One night, a pleasant-enough night topside, but an even pleasanter night +below, at least in our part of the ship below. A few of us were gathered +in the flag office, where Dalton, the flag yeoman, sometimes allowed us +to call when his admiral was ashore. Getting on toward middle-age was +Dalton, with a head of gray-flecked hair and an old-time school-master's +face. A great fellow for books. + +In the flag office store-room, which to get into he had only to lift a +hatch in the deck under his revolving chair and let himself drop, he had +a young library, which after-hours he, used to delve into for anybody's +or everybody's benefit. He was particularly strong on folk-lore, and +could dig up a few fat volumes any time on the folk-lore of any nation +we had ever heard of. He liked to lie flat on the coffer-dam to read, +with a row of tin letter-files under his head for a rest, the electric +bulb and its shade so adjusted as to throw all the light on the page of +his book. He had done a lot of reading and writing in his time, and his +eyes were getting a little watery. If he had had his way he would have +been an author. In the hours of many a night-watch he had tried his hand +at little sketches; but somehow or other he could not catch on, he said. +Perhaps if he had tried to write as he talked, tell the things just as +they popped into his mind, he would have been luckier; but that wasn't +literature, he said, and so most of his written things read like one of +Daniel Webster's speeches. We could listen to him talking all night +long; but when he brought out one of his manuscripts, it was good-night +and hammocks for all hands. + +Taps had gone this night, and so it should have been lights out and +everybody below turned in; but this, as I said, was the admiral's +office, and only separated from the admiral's cabin by a bulkhead; and +even the busiest of Jimmy-Legs don't come prowling into the cabin +country of a flagship after taps. And the flag lieutenant and the flag +secretary were pretty savvy officers who never by any accident came +bumping in on Dalton's parties at the wrong time. + +There came a knock at the door, and following the knock came the +captain's yeoman. Nothing wrong with the captain's yeoman, except that +his bow name was Reginald and he was rather fat for a sailor. Also he +had ambitions, which was all right too, only we knew that privately he +looked on the rest of us as a lot of loafers who would never rise to our +opportunities. He'd been wearing his first-class rating badge a month +now, and before his enlistment was out he intended to be a chief petty +officer; which was why he was working after-hours. But the captain's +yeoman, this particular captain's yeoman, has nothing to do with the +story, except that his errand set Dalton off on a new tack. + +The captain's yeoman had come for a little advice. He always was after +advice--or information. A department document had come into the office +that day with seventeen endorsements on it, and it had him bluffed. We +all laughed at the face he drew. "But," said Dalton, turning on us, "so +would most of you be bluffed if one of those winged-out documents came +at you for the first time. But you're foolish, son Reginald, to be +worrying over any little thing like that. Seventeen endorsements! +What's seventeen endorsements? I wonder what you'd think if you'd--Sit +down there and listen to me, and perhaps it'll be time well spent. If +you don't learn enough from it to get that C.P.O. you're after, +then--Well, I won't call you any names here now. Listen." + +Now this story of Dalton's is a classic among yeoman, and only a yeoman +should tell it; but not even a yeoman, no matter how gifted he may be +with letter file or typewriter, has a rating to tell a story--no, no +more than anybody else aboard ship. Some of us had heard the story +before, and it had always been mangled in the telling, through the +teller not knowing all the facts, or having perhaps never met any of the +principal characters in it. But Dalton not only knew the tale from +beginning to end; he was, though he would never admit it in a crowd, +himself concerned in it. And now when he began to relate the history of +the famous length of hose-pipe, we knew that he would have it right. + +"I was in--well, call her the cruiser _Savannah_--this time--" + +"Were you a yeoman, Dallie?" + +"Yes, a yeoman, bright Reggie boy; what else d' y' think I'd be--a +signal-girl? A good old ship, the _Savannah_, and were tied up to the +dock at the Navy Yard." + +"Boston yard, was it, Dallie?" + +"Never mind what yard it was, son. And I'll name no names, either, and +then by no accident will there be a general court-martial coming to me +some day. There were three of four other ships fitting out at the same +time, and after a while these other three ships got their stores aboard +and proceeded to sea, leaving a lot of old gear behind them on the dock. + +"We were making ready to pipe water into our ship, when Mr. Kiley, our +boson, always a forehanded chap, thought it all a pity to have to use +our bran-new hose for that kind of work. You all know how hose gets +lying chafing around with people stepping on it, carts and wagons +running over it, coal-dust grinding into it, and so on. A pity, our +boson thought, to subject our nice new hose to that kind of abuse, when +in the condemned heap on the dock there was a length of hose that would +do the work, and he put it up to Mr. Renner, the officer of the deck at +the time. + +"Now Mr. Renner was a new-made ensign, and we all of us here been long +enough in the service to know how it is about a middy that's just got +his commission. We all know how it is with ourselves when we first get +our C.P.O.--except you, Reggie, and you'll get yours some day. Am I +right? Sure I am. If there's one thing on earth we're going to do then, +it's to live up to regulations. + +"No, we'll never again remember so much about rules and regulations as +we do then. No catching us in anything irregular; no sir. And so with +Mr. Renner, the new-made ensign. He brings out the blue-book and shows +the boson. 'Look,' he says. 'Paragraph fourteen thousand four hundred +and forty-two,' or whatever it was. 'Hose,' he goes on to read, 'is +expendible property, to be surveyed and wiped off the property-books by +condemning to the scrap-heap and sold in the open market to the highest +bidder. There,' says our new-made ensign to our boson, 'what it says. +And according to that, the admiral himself couldn't take that hose from +that scrap-heap without authority. No, not if it was no more than an old +shoe-lace, he couldn't.' + +"'But that won't fill our water-tanks, and I'd like to use that hose, +sir,' says the boson. + +"'M-m!' says Mr. Renner. 'M-m! now if Mr. Shinn was aboard--' Mr. Shinn +was our executive. 'But Mr. Shinn is ashore. However, I'll tell you +what; I will speak to the captain about it,' and he steps inside the +bulkhead and writes a message to the skipper. + +[Illustration: He brings out the blue-book and shows the boson] + +"Now our skipper was a good old soul, and thought a lot of his boson, +and wanted to do everything he could to help him out, but also, like a +good many other good old captains in the service, he'd forgotten a lot +of this stuff about regulations. Ordinarily--say, if 'twas anything to +be done out to sea--he'd have said, 'Why, of course, Kiley; go ahead and +do it,' But this was in a navy yard, ashore, and when he gets a note +with something about regulations in it, he begins to haul to. + +"And many a good sea-going old skipper is bluffed the same way about +anything that spells regulations, you betcher. So now our good old +skipper begins to tumble his hair and pull his moustache and look again +at Mr. Renner's note. At last he tells the messenger to say to Mr. +Renner that he will look into it and let him know. + +"Another hour of studying, and the captain calls in his new yeoman +that--" + +"Was that you, Dallie?" + +"Never mind--and cut out the personal questions, Reggie son. And +remember you don't rate any more questions than anybody else here. I'm +telling you the story, and I'll tell all that's good for you and just +the way it happened. + +"Now if this yeoman had been better acquainted with his skipper, he'd +have been of some use just then. He might have suggested, in a way any +of us can at times without interfering, or jarring an officer, even as +topsided as a captain, how the thing could be fixed up without any +correspondence game. But this new yeoman hadn't yet learned what his +captain's steaming radius was. And the captain, having regulations on +his brain and not getting the hint at the psychological time, he +dictates a regulation communication to the commandant of the yard, which +the new yeoman frames up just as he was told. It was a letter inquiring +of the commandant the status of the condemned hose in question, and +could it not be loaned for temporary use, to be returned in due +season--say, next day? and so forth. + +"Now the commandant was a good old soul, too, and nothing would have +pleased him better than to accommodate his old friend and classmate, the +captain of the _Savannah_; but seeing this thing come to him in such +formal style, and himself being just off a three-years' cruise, and +always a little doubtful about these port regulations, anyway, and +wanting to do things up in a seaman-like way, he turns to his chief +clerk and says, 'What do we do about this?' + +"Now what the commandant meant and what he would have said, if he'd put +it in more words, was: 'I want the _Savannah_ to have the use of that +condemned hose, but I suppose there are certain formalities to be +observed, and your business is to know what these formalities are. Here, +you attend to these formalities, but see that the _Savannah_ gets the +use of the hose.' That's about how he would have put it aboard ship, but +he hadn't quite savvied this shore-going chief clerk at his elbow. +Toward him he didn't have that same sea-going feeling that he'd have +toward one of his old ship's crew. + +"And the chief clerk wasn't the kind that lost sleep trying to make +trouble for anybody; but he was the combination of being twenty-five +years on one job and having a manager of a wife--an upstanding, +marine-sergeant sort of a woman, with the beam and bows of a battleship, +and an eye--oh, an eye!--and the chief clerk and his missus, they'd just +finished paying for their house over in the city, and they'd had to +scrimp and scrape for the Lord knows how many years to get it paid for, +and there was a marriageable daughter to provide for, and his wife never +let him forget that he mustn't risk their real estate or jeopardize his +job or the marrying prospects of the daughter, who was just getting to +where she was making a lot of desirable acquaintances. There was a young +staff officer, a passed assistant surgeon, within easy range, and there +was a young paymaster above the horizon, and no telling but they might +yet capture one of the line, and that was all the old lady needed to be +happy. But if papa was shifted to another city, they'd have to sell the +house at a sacrifice and start making friends, all over again. They say +that the chief clerk used to get his instructions every morning like it +was the uniform of the day. Above all things he must never do anything +that the department or any superior officer could ever censure him for. + +"He was a little man, the chief clerk, with an upturned moustache he was +always flattening fan-wise. 'Heels' they used to call him at the yard, +because he was so sensitive about his height that he wore regular female +opera-singer's heels on his shoes. Some said his wife made him wear +them. Even then he only came up to the top of her ear. Well, Heels +considers things now, and recollecting that this would come under the +jurisdiction of the captain of the yard, and that the captain of the +yard had his little spells, he says to the commandant, 'I think, sir, +we'll have to refer it.' + +"'Refer it? To who?' + +"'To the captain of the yard, sir.' + +"'Captain of the--D'y' mean the _Savannah_ can't use that bit of rotten +old hose without authority?' + +"'Well, sir, you see it is like this. You see, sir, I have to do things +the way they are laid down for me. The _Savannah_ could, perhaps, use +that section of hose, especially if you say so, sir, but--' + +"'But what?' + +"'But if, sir, the captain of the yard _should_ learn it, as he might, +sir, and he _should_ feel slighted, or if an inspector should happen +along when it was in use, and discover that the items in the scrap-heap +did not tally with his list, that there was a section of hose missing, +that it was being used without authority by the _Savannah_--' + +"'Oh, you and your coulds and your shoulds!' snaps the commandant. 'Give +me sea duty in place of any of these shore billets any time. Aboard ship +I have only to nod my head to my executive officer and a thing's done; +but here--O Lord! But go ahead, make out a request, or requisition, or +warrant, or whatever's necessary, and let's have it fixed up.' + +"And Heels, who used to be in the army when he was young, but didn't +like--or, rather, Mrs. Heels didn't like--to be told of it, he snaps his +heels together, starts his arm as if to salute, but stops in time, says, +'Yes, sir,' goes off to his little desk, and typewrites Endorsement No. +1 to the back of the captain of the _Savannah's_ letter, gets the +commandant's signature, and sends the messenger with it to the captain +of the yard. + +"And right here was when it really got under way. You see, if the +commandant had 'phoned over to the captain of the yard and said in an +off-hand, fine-day sort of way, 'I suppose it will be all right to let +the _Savannah_ have that hose for a day or two, won't it?' why, the +captain of the yard would have said, 'Why, yes, sir, let 'em have it.' +But he hadn't yet sized up this new commandant. He only knew he had the +reputation of being a martinet aboard ship, and now came this formal +letter with its endorsement and right away the yard captain said to +himself, 'He's a strict one--an endorsement on it already, and that +_Savannah_ captain, he must be a strict one, too. What are they trying +to do--trying to catch me below when I ought to be on deck? I guess +not.' He had heard of chaps that you thought you were safe with and you +stretched a point or two to help them out, one of those little things +that anybody would think would get by all right; and then, when +something went wrong, they'd turn around and say, 'Why did you allow +this?' and you had no authority to show why you did allow it. There was +that last case at League Island, and a friend of his, only the year +before. There were two damaged rubber raincoats and a pair of old rubber +boots, and the commandant that time had said to his friend: 'See here, +I'm tired of looking at those things. Why don't you auction 'em off some +day and get rid of 'em?' And the captain of the yard's friend got busy +and hectographed letters were mailed to all the junk-dealers in the +city, and posted in the post-office and custom-house corridors, and the +sale advertised in the local papers, according to the law. And after the +sixty days required by the law, they were auctioned off with some other +junk. There were thirteen people attended the sale, but only one bid, +and that from a little stooped fellow with the beard of a prophet, who +offered sixty-seven cents for the lot, and took it off in a two-wheeled +hand-cart he'd brought with him. And they turned in the sixty-seven +cents, together with the bill for advertising--six dollars and +seventy-five cents--and considered they had done quite a stroke of +business. But back comes a letter from the Bureau of Profit and Loss--or +so the captain of the yard said he thought it was--wanting to know who +gave them authority to advertise and sell the property of the United +States without authority; and before the inquiry was concluded there +were three of them rolled through a G.C.M., and the captain of the +yard's friend was broke. And writing him about it, his friend had closed +his letter with: 'Don't ever, on your life, have anything to do with any +condemned property without you know where you're at every minute.' + +"And this yard captain didn't intend to, and so he added Endorsement No. +2, saying he had no authority, and returned it to the commandant, who +sent it back, with Endorsement No. 3, asking to be informed, and so on, +and the yard captain tacked on Endorsement No. 4, respectfully +suggesting that in compliance with regulations, page 11,336, section +142, paragraphs 24-27, or whatever it was, that it be referred to the +Bureau of Replies and Queries at Washington. Which it was, and they +returned it to the yard, this time to the yard master, for further and +more specific information. And the yard master, after locking it in his +safe and going home and sleeping on it overnight, glued on an +endorsement that you couldn't have convicted a fish of swimming by, and +hoisted it over to the yard captain bright and early in the morning. + +"By this time the yard captain was beginning to believe that some +politician was after his job, and if so--Well, they'd have to snap 'em +over pretty fast to catch him playing too far off his base, and he slid +it back to the Bureau of Replies and so forth, who passed it on to the +Bureau of Odds and Ends, where it steamed in and out among a lot of +swivel-chairs, who were not to be upset easily. They put in a couple of +heavy-eyed weeks on it, and rolled it back finally to the commandant for +further information. Above all, before an intelligent judgment could be +rendered, they especially desired to be informed where the hose came +from originally. + +"Well, the poor commandant didn't know where the hose came from +originally. It might be from any one of three ships that had been lying +to in the dock just before the _Savannah's_ request was received; a +battleship, a cruiser, and a beef-boat they were. But he supposed he had +to do something about it, and so he looked up the latest orders. The +beef-boat was due back in the yard in a few days; but she rated only a +lieutenant-commander. The battleship had the rank: a two-starred red +flag from her main. She was about as far away as she could be when last +heard from; but no matter; rank had to be served. The commandant begging +leave to be informed passed it on to her. Did she know anything about +the section of hose in question, and if so, what? And forwarded it, care +of postmaster at Manila, P.I. And when it came back--after thirty or +forty thousand miles of travel that was--the battleship didn't know +anything about the section of hose referred to. Nor did the cruiser, +which was in the Mediterranean when caught, only she having lighter +heels and hopping around more, it took eight months to get her. There +was still the beef-boat, which in the meantime had gone to sea and +returned home again, and was now again to sea, on her way to the China +station. They went for her, and after a stern chase that lasted through +six months and two typhoons and all kinds of monsoons and trades, they +got her; whereat she begged leave to say that at the time of her +collision with the collier _Ariadne_ (for details of which see letter to +Secretary of the Navy on such a day and month of such a year) many files +of papers were lost. And evidently whatever pertained to the section of +hose in question was among the lost files; for certainly among the +existing files there was no reference to any section of condemned +hose-pipe. It took three months more to get that back to the yard, and +by that time the old commandant had been retired for age and a new +commandant had fallen heir to it. + +"The new head read all the endorsements, by now forty-eight, and +pondered over them. For perhaps three days he paced the yard with it, +without being able to see where it concerned him; but he was very fond +of puzzling things out, and thinking he saw a way out of this, he +forwarded it to the old commander of the _Savannah_, who now had a +battleship, the _Texarkhoma_, which was in winter quarters with the +battle fleet at Guantanamo, Cuba, from where he figured on getting an +answer in three weeks at least. But before the mail reached Guantanamo, +the _Texarkhoma_ had been detached by cable and ordered to the West +Coast by way of South-American ports. The commandant at Guantanamo +thought he might overtake the _Texarkhoma_ at Rio Janeiro, and +forwarded the packet to the American minister there. But having meantime +got another cable from the department to hurry and make a steaming test +of the cruise, the _Texarkhoma_ had stopped only long enough in Rio to +coal ship, and so the packet missed her there. On to her next stop, +Punta Arenas in Magellan Straits, the minister forwarded it, but the +flying battleship, with her stops three thousand miles apart, was moving +along faster than the mail steamers, which were stopping every few +hundred miles. So they missed her in the Straits, and again at Callao. +Not till she lay to anchor in San Francisco Bay did they overtake her, +and then her commander had only to say that he didn't know where the +hose came from originally; but he didn't see that it mattered, as the +necessity for the use of the hose no longer existed. + +"I might say that the captain's yeoman, having by now come to understand +his skipper, drew up that particular endorsement, and he thought it +pretty hot stuff", and that it would end the whole matter. And so did +the new commandant back in the yard when he got it, and he shipped it on +to the Bureau of Heavy Jobs with a flourish. But did it? Not much. Down +there the swivel-chairs revolved a few more hundred times and they +discussed it over a few dozen lunches, and then back it came with a new +touch. Why did the necessity no longer exist? they asked, and shipped it +by mistake to the new commandant. + +"'And how the hell do I know?' says the new commandant, but not in +writing, and passes it on to the old _Savannah_ captain, who was now +rear-admiral, with a division in the East waiting him to come and hoist +his pennant. And so again it was a chase of the _Texarkhoma_, which was +on her way to the Philippines _via_ Honolulu and way ports. They were +too late for her at Honolulu, and at Guam, and again at Yokohama; but +they overhauled her at Hong-kong, where she'd been lying at anchor for a +week. + +"The admiral had a lot of mail that morning in Hong-kong harbor, but +nothing to speed up his brain till he came to the hose-pipe thing. 'Twas +then he went up on the quarter-deck and did a Marathon for an hour or +so, while the officer of the deck and every blessed marine and flat-foot +on duty stepped softly till he ducked below again. + +"By and by, in his cabin, the admiral presses the buzzer, and in comes +his trusty yeoman, the same he'd carried from the days of the +_Savannah_, and to him the admiral says: 'Willoughby'--call him +Willoughby--' Willoughby, how long you been in the service?' + +"'Nineteen years, sir.' + +"'Nineteen? H'm! Then by this time you probably know a little something +of the ways that shore-going departments invent to worry us poor fellows +to sea,' He held up the hose-pipe thing. 'You've seen this before, +Willoughby?' + +"'Oh yes, sir,' says Willoughby." + +"'I dare say, and so have I, and if there's a sea-going or shore-going +officer in the service that hasn't bumped into it, then he must have +been on the sick-list for the last few dozen years. Well, Willoughby, do +you take it, this nightmare--that I thought was dead and buried a dozen +times--take it and study it over, from alow and aloft, from for'ard and +aft, inside and outside and topside and 'tween-decks, from mast-head to +keelson, from figure-head to jack-staff; study it and stay with it, and +from out of your nineteen years' experience--and you're no green +apprentice-boy, Willoughby--see if you can't construct an endorsement +that will lay the damned ghost of it for good and all.' + +"'Aye, aye, sir,' says the trusty yeoman, and takes it off to his office +and looks it over. A wonderful thing it was by now, with its sixty-seven +endorsements winged out on the back of it. Just to read them took the +Admiral's yeoman an hour, and he wasn't too slow a reader, either. Well, +he spreads it out and sizes it up. And sucks three pipefuls, and takes a +cruise down the passageway and has a chat with his old-time shipmates, +the boson and the gunner. The boson was Mr. Kiley, the same old boson +of the _Savannah_, been with the Old Man when he was a middy in +sailing-ship days--couldn't lose each other. A lot of things about the +new Navy the boson and the gunner couldn't savvy, and when they got +talking things over together they left their blue-book etiquette in +their lockers. The admiral's yeoman tells 'em what the Old Man has +caught in his mail, and then he asks the boson, 'Did you try to use that +hose at all that day?' + +"Try to? No, but I did. D' y' s'pose I was goin' to lose out on a little +thing like that 'cause of regulations? And 'specially after the officer +of the deck goes inside the bulkhead to give me a chance?' + +"'He didn't go inside to give you any chance,' says the admiral's +yeoman. 'That was to write a message to the skipper.' + +"' Sho-oo boy--bubbles! He was young enough, was Mr. Renner, but not so +young he didn't know enough not to bother the ship's boson when he's +gettin' results. And I snakes the hose off that scrap-heap, and before +he's back on the quarter I had it bustin' with navy-yard water-pressure, +and you betcher he sees it over the side, but he don't look too hard at +it. No, sir, he don't,' goes on the boson. 'And now take a word from +me--and it ain't out of any drill-book your division officer 'll read +to you. Let me have that endorsement gadjet and I'll lash it to the +fluke of one of our mudhooks next time we come to anchor, and after it's +laid a while on the bottom of Singapore harbor, or wherever it is we +next let go, under twenty, thirty, or forty fathom of water, whatever it +is, I'll let you see what it looks like.' + +"'No, no, Kiley, don't you do it,' says the gunner. 'Don't you do it. +Some crazy Parsee diver might spot it and go down and bring it up; and +besides, you oughtn't let it get wet--it'd spoil all that nice +typewriting. Give it up to me and I'll take it up on the after-bridge, +and if it's too stiff for wadding, I'll tie it across the muzzle of the +first six-pounder we salute the port with, and let you see how it looks +then.' + +"'What you two pirates need,' says the admiral's yeoman, 'is to learn a +little respect for the shore-going departments where your orders are +made out,' and goes back to his office and takes that hose-pipe +communication and reads through the sixty-seven endorsements again, and +then he carefully typewrites on a new leaf: + + "'_Endorsement No_. 68 + U.S.S. _Texarkhoma_, + Hong-kong, China, + Date So and so. + + "'Respectfully returned, with the information that the need of the + section of hose-pipe no longer exists, for the reason that we + filled the _Savannah's_ tanks with it seven years ago. + + "'Very respectfully, + + "'Your obedient servant,' + +"and signs his own name and rating, Percy Algernon Willoughby--call him +that--Chief Yeoman, U.S. Navy, and glues that on behind the other +sixty-seven endorsements and gloats over it, and for a few minutes feels +like a bureau chief himself. Then for another minute or two he thought +of mailing it to them. And he could see them reading that in Washington! +There would be an endorsement to go ringing down the departmental +ancestral halls! And as for the other yeomen, his colleagues in the +service, for generations his name would resound among 'em. But he +decided that that would be too much glory for one yeoman, and besides, +he didn't know where he could start in at $70 a month (with additions) +and all found, at his age, after being nineteen years on one job. And +right here, he had to admit to himself, he didn't have so very much the +best of Heels of the navy-yard. So he looks it over again; fat as a +history of the Roman Empire, and hefted it and--well, there were young +apprentice-boys aboard that didn't weigh any more. But to make sure, he +lashes it to the butt-end of a fourteen-pound shell the gunner had once +given him for a desk-weight. He hated to lose that desk-weight, a relic +of the Santiago fight, but a good cause this--a good cause. He starts to +unscrew his air-port, but come to think, it was still daylight, and so +he waits for the shades of night to fall. + +"Well, that night--three bells just gone in the mid-watch it was--the +marine guarding the patent life-buoy on the port side of the +quarter-deck, fell into a reverie. He ought to have been on the _qui +vive_, so to speak--alert, active, wide-awake, pacing his post briskly +of course, according to instructions; and if it was daylight when the +officer of the deck could see him, you betcher he would. But it was the +middle of the night, and a night in the Orient, with a sky of studded +velvet and a sea that flowed by like a smooth roll of dark belting, and +he was only--Tolliver was his name, from Georgia--only a slim young +Southern boy dreaming of home and mother, and maybe of a girl he had +left behind him, and he looked up at the emblazoned firmament and again +at the flashing sea, and then he rested his head on the top chain-rail. + +"For just a second. He had said to himself he wouldn't go to sleep; but +all at once he heard a move below him, as of somebody unscrewing an +air-port, and then he heard a voice say, 'Well, here goes a ghost that +will stay laid!' and then a plash, a pl-m-p! and looking over quickly, +he saw plain as could be the phosphorus hole in the sea, then a quarter +of a second later something white as a man's face, and then it was gone +into the ship's wake. + +"'Man overboard!' he yells, and snaps the patent life-buoy over the +side, and the marine on the starboard side of the quarter he yells, 'Man +overboard!' and the marine on the after-bridge he yells, 'Man +overboard!' and the two seaman on watch on the for'ard bridge, 'Man +overboard, sir!' they yell, and the watch officer orders, 'Hard on your +wheel, Quartermaster!' and to the bosun's mate on watch the watch +officer yells, 'Pipe the deck division to quarters!' and the watch +officer pulls a few bells and talks through three or four tubes, and in +no time the ship is coming around in a circle, and up on deck came +piling about two hundred lusty young seamen, and it was, 'boats away,' +and over the side went hanging gigs and cutters and whale-boats, and +then it was, 'Search-lights all clear!' and in about one minute the big +ship was back on the spot, and in another minute and a half there were +eight boats with half-dressed crews rowing around, and six big +search-lights playing tag on the waters. An hour and a half they stood +by, but no sign of him and no call from him. And then it was return to +your ship, sound quarters and call the roll. But everybody was present +or accounted for, and the skipper gave the captain of marines the devil, +and the marine captain gave the devil to his marine guard, the Georgia +boy, who by this time was beginning to doubt that he hadn't been asleep. + +"Next afternoon the admiral was on deck taking the air, and after a +while he asks, 'Where was that marine guard standing when he says he +heard that air-port unscrewing and that splash last night?' And they dug +the marine out of the brig and brought him up, and he stood on the same +spot leaning over the rail, and the old man stands there and takes a +look down. And he looks to see if there was an air-port handy. And there +was--the air-port of the flag office. 'H'm!--h'm!' he says. 'That's all +now, Lyman,' to the marine officer. Nothing more; but an hour later the +marine was released from the brig--nobody knew why." + +Throughout all the story Dalton had been sitting atop of the coffer-dam, +hands with flat palms pressing down, and feet hanging, with heels +drumming against the coffer-dam sides. After he had done he pushed +himself up by the palms of his hands, rearranged his row of tin +letter-files, shifted his electric bulkhead light, picked up a fat +folk-lore volume and waited, with eyes twinkling down on us, for +somebody to say something. + +"And how long ago was that, Dallie?" asked somebody, at last. + +"Five years." + +"And never a word from the admiral?" + +"Never a word." + +"H-m-ph! Don't you suppose--" + +"Suppose what, fat Reggie? D' y' mean to hint at conspiracy between a +rear-admiral of the United States Navy and an enlisted man--a yeoman? +Why, Reggie!" + +"Of course not. But nothing more from anybody? Not from Washington, +either?" + +"Nothing, inquisitive child. But there's an old flat-footed friend of +mine in the department--and he, whenever he writes me, never forgets to +mention that every once in a while the chief clerk, or somebody or other +in his division, is sure to look out the window and across the street at +the White House grounds, as if trying to remember something; and +whenever he takes a particularly long look he is always sure to turn +around and say to the man at the nearest desk, 'What d' y' s'pose ever +became of that hose-pipe spook used to haunt this place?' And the man at +the nearest desk he'll look up and nibble at the end of his pen-holder, +or maybe he'll get up and have a look out of the window at the Cabinet +playing tennis, and after a while he'll say: 'That's so; I wonder what +ever did become of that? But'--maybe another look across at the tennis +court--'that'll turn up again, no fear.' + +"But it won't," concluded the flag yeoman, with a smile we could have +buried one of his tin letter-files in; "for we were two hundred miles +out of Hong-kong at that time, steaming 14.6 miles an hour through the +China Sea, and you know it's good and deep there. And now"--he rolled +flat on his back, balanced his neck on the head-rest under the bulkhead +light, and his fat book on his chest--"now I'm not advising anybody, and +particularly not you, Fatty, but that's the way a competent yeoman, with +a little advice from a couple of old shipmates, laid that hose-pipe +ghost of other days. But mind, I'm not telling you to go and do anything +like that." + +"No, of course not," says our captain's yeoman, and rubs his fat chin. +"Of course not." + +"But if you do," says Dalton, and sets his head sideways to see how +Reginald was taking it--"if you do, you'd make a hit with your skipper, +you betcher--only he'd never tell you." + +"Why wouldn't he, if he liked it?" + +"Why? 'Twouldn't be regulations. And now, you fellows, beat it. Seven +bells gone and the Old Man is due aboard at twelve o'clock. And +sometimes he takes a notion to go cruising around the cabin country +before he turns in. Besides, I want a chance to peruse a little +improving literature before I turn in myself. So beat it, all of you." + +And out into the passageways and up the hatchways we beat it; all but +our captain's fat yeoman, who went back to his office at a grave +thoughtful pace. + + + + +The Seizure of the "Aurora Borealis" + + +I had no notion in the beginning of going anywhere near Newfoundland +that winter, but the word was passed to me from old John Rose of Folly +Cove that if I thought of running down for a load of herrin', then he'd +ought to have a couple o' thousand barrels, by the looks o' things, fine +and fat in pickle, against Christmas Day, and old John Rose being a +great friend of mine, and the market away up, I kissed the wife and baby +good-by and put out for Placentia Bay in the _Aurora_. + +Now if anybody'd come to me before I left Gloucester that trip and asked +me to turn a smuggling trick, why, I'd 'a' said: "Go away, boy, you're +crazy." But on the way down I put into Saint Pierre. You know Saint +Pierre? In the Miquelons, yes, where in the spring the fishing vessels +from France put in--big vessels, bark-rigged mostly, and carrying forty +or fifty in a crew--they put in to fit out for the Grand Banks fishing. +And they come over with wine mostly for ballast. And in the fall they +sail back home, but without the wine. + +And, of course, somethin's got to be done with that wine, and though +wine's as cheap in Saint Pierre as 'tis to any port in France, yet +'tisn't all drunk in Saint Pierre--not quite. The truth is, those people +in Saint Pierre aren't much in the drinking line. One American shacking +crew will come in there and put away more in one night than that whole +winter population will in a week--that is, they would if they could get +the kind they wanted. But that Saint Pierre wine isn't the kind of booze +that our fellows are looking for after hauling trawls for a month o' +winter days on the Banks. No, what they want is something with more bite +in it. And what becomes of it? H-m--if you knew that you'd know what a +lot of people'd like to know. + +Well, I put into Saint Pierre, for I knew old John Rose and his gang of +herring netters would cert'nly relish a drink of red rum now and again +on a cold winter's night, and, going ashore, I runs into a sort of fat, +black lad about forty-five, half French, half English, that was a great +trader there, named Miller. 'Twas off him I bought my keg of rum for old +John Rose. I'd heard of this Miller before, and a slick, smooth one he +was reported to be, with a warehouse on one of the docks. + +He'd been looking at my vessel, he said, had noticed her come to anchor, +and a splendid vessel she was--fast and weatherly, no doubt of that. +Well, that was all right, for, take it from me, the _Aurora_ was all +that anybody could say of her that was good. And when you believe that +way, and a man comes along and begins to praise your vessel like that, +whether you like his sail plans or not, why you just naturally can't +help warming up to him. We took a walk up the street together. + +And a master and a crew that knew how to handle her, too, Miller goes +on. Now I blinked a little at that, straight to my face as it was, but +after two or three more drinks I says to myself: "Oh, hell, what's the +good o' suspectin' everybody that pays a compliment of trying to heave +twine over you?" We got pretty friendly, and, talking about one thing +and another, he finally asked me if I ever had a notion of selling my +vessel. I only smiled at him, and asked him if he had any idea what she +cost to build. I told him then. Fourteen thousand dollars to the day of +her trial trip, and all the money my wife and I had in the world had +gone into her. He had no idea she cost so much; but, on reflection, it +must be so--of a certainty yes. A splen-did, a su-pairb vessel, so swift +to sail, so perfect to manoeuvre. If he himself possessed such an +enchanting vessel--well, he could use her to much profit. There was a +way. + +He said that so slyly that I had to ask him what that way was. He +winked. "I deal in wines--what way can it be?" And, of course, I winked +back to show that I was a deep one too. It's wonderful what things a man +c'n get up to wind'ard of you after he's half filled you up. Well, no +more then, but we left our caffay for a walk around the port, me looking +for a little souvenir in the jewelry line for the baby. Christmas was +comin', and though I didn't expect to be home till after New Year's, +still I wanted the wife to know I hadn't forgotten the baby. + +I was tellin' that to Miller, and a little more about them, of how I +hadn't been but a couple of years married, and how I kissed her and the +baby good-by on the steps, and her tellin' me the last thing not to go +pilin' the vessel up on the rocks anywhere, that the baby's fortune was +in her now, and so on. + +Well, sir, that farewell scene, that adieu, was too touching for him--he +insisted on picking out the souvenir himself, and he picked out a good +one, a pretty brooch to fasten the baby's little collar, and he paid for +it--forty francs--and I just had to take it. + +Well, we had another drink and parted, me not expecting to see any more +of him; but that night as I was down on the dock hailing the vessel for +a dory to go aboard, a man stepped up to me and laid his hand on my +arm. "Captain Corning?" he said, and I said yes. + +Well, he was a friend of Mr. Miller--he had seen me talking to Mr. +Miller, and learned that I was about to depart in the early morning, +bound for Placentia Bay; he would like to ask me to do him a small +favor. Could I take one package and land it on my way to Auvergne, where +was one friend of his? A small matter, one five-gallon keg of rum, that +rum which was of such trivial price in Saint Pierre, but on which the +duty was so high in Newfoundland, and his friend was one poor man, one +fisherman, who could not afford to pay the duty. + +Now this Auvergne was twenty-five miles this side of any port of entry, +and my first landing in Newfoundland, according to law, had to be at a +port of entry. And so I told this chap that, and how I was liable to a +heavy fine, and so on. + +Yes, he discerned much truth in what I said, but consider that poor +fisherman who could have his good rum merely for the landing--no other +cost, none whatever--he, a friend of Mr. Miller, was sending it as a +gift for the holiday Christmas time. And that rum--consider the +piteously cold nights hauling the nets when a drink of good rum was so +soothing, so grateful, so inspiring. And a little favor like that--the +Colonial Government would not be--truly not--and if I did not take the +rum that poor fisherman of Auvergne would have none in its stead. He +could not afford it, the duty was so high--an impossible duty, as no +doubt I knew. + +I did know, and also I remembered many a drink of Saint Pierre rum I'd +had on a cold night in Newfoundland and no duty paid on it, and many a +cold night hauling herring when I didn't have it, but wished I had, and +would've gone a long ways to get it, duty or no duty. And then I +remembered how Miller had been pretty decent to me that day--the little +brooch he'd bought for the baby I could even then feel in my vest +pocket--and I said all right, and when half an hour later a dory slipped +up to the side of the _Aurora_ and a keg was handed over the rail I +didn't ask any questions, but took and stowed it under the cabin run. + +Next morning we sailed, and, after a four hours' easy run, made +Auvergne, a little port in Placentia Bay, tucked away between two +headlands--one easterly, one westerly. Coming from Saint Pierre, it was, +of course, the westward one we rounded. According to directions, I +ground out two long and two short woofs on the fog-horn, at which a man +pops from behind a big rock and waves a handkerchief three times. + +Well, that was according to directions, too, and I drops a dory over the +side with Sam Leary and Archie Gillis and the keg in it, and tells them +to row over to the beach, ask the name of the lad that jumped from +behind the rock, and if it was the same as on the tag to leave the keg +with him. It was about a mile to the bit of beach, and the dory was +almost there, when from behind the easterly headland comes the +revenue-cutter. "That looks bad," I says, "but we'll say we've come for +fresh water, that our tanks were leakin', and that we had to have fresh +water to cook dinner, and Sam and Archie in the dory--'specially +Sam--they'll have wit enough to empty the keg over the side and go on up +as if they was really lookin' for water." + +And that's what would 'a' happened if it'd not been for the thirst that +Sam Leary and Archie Gillis most always had with them. They see the +revenue-cutter, and they knew just what they oughter done, but they +couldn't let go that keg without having one last drink out of it, and +when they got that drink down they couldn't help thinking what a pity to +waste so much good rum, and taking a look back at the cutter, and seeing +she was still half a mile away--"Time enough," says Sam to Archie--"this +lad behind the big rock'll have something to stow it in," and he and +Archie walks without any hurry up to the rock where the man was hiding. + +But instead of one man behind that rock, there was six, and right away +there was a battle. Sam and Archie bowls over a couple and gets away up +the beach and safe among rocks, but the revenue people got the keg. By +that time the cutter was alongside us, and so they wouldn't get the +little Christmas keg I had tucked away for John Rose I pulled the plug +out of it in no time and let it drain into her bilge. And that was an +awful waste of good liquor, and I knew John Rose would grieve when I +told him. + +They had a clean case against me, and I was taken with the _Aurora_ to +Harbor Grace for trial. When they asked me what I had to say, I told 'em +that I was simply bringing a little keg of rum from a man in Saint +Pierre to his friend in Auvergne. They asked me the name of the man in +Saint Pierre, and I said I didn't know. They asked me the name of the +man in Auvergne, and I said I didn't know. "Was this the man?" they +asks, and shows me the tag on the keg. I didn't answer. And they went on +to show there was no man in Auvergne by that name, and what were they to +understand by that? + +I told them I didn't know--it was past me. And it cert'nly was. But they +knew what to make of it, they said. There were people in Auvergne doing +this illegal business under false names. And I had used a false name, +and to try to tell the honorable court that I did not know the name of +the man in Saint Pierre who gave me the rum, nor the man I was bringing +it to--why, I knew very well who gave me the rum, and I knew who I was +bringing it to, and if the truth were known, I knew a lot more about the +rum-smuggling traffic. And they were going to put a stop to it. + +And they laid a fine of twenty-five hundred dollars against my vessel. +Maybe you might think that a pretty heavy fine, but that's nothing. +Almost any little local magistrate down that way can soak an American +skipper or owner for almost any amount and get away with it. And how's +that? Well, we pay two or three dollars a barrel to Newfoundland +fishermen for herring. Before we went down here the St. John's merchants +used to pay them about fifty cents a barrel, and it's the St. John's +merchants who have all the money and came pretty near running +Newfoundland. + +Well, when my little local magistrate fines me twenty-five hundred +dollars I said I wouldn't pay it, that I'd stir things up at Washington, +and so on, but they only laughed at me, and put her up for sale. + +Now I'd 've bid her in myself if I'd had the money, but I only had a +couple of hundred dollars in cash for running expenses with me. All my +Newfoundland friends down that way were poor people--fishermen. If +'twas home we could 'a' raised plenty of money on her, but I was in +Newfoundland, not Gloucester, and they rushed the thing through. + +Well, the _Aurora_ was bid in for just the amount of the fine, and that +was a shame, the vessel she was, and she was bid in by a man nobody +seemed to know. I went to the man who bid her in and told him the whole +story, of what the vessel meant to me, of how I came to bring the rum +over, and asked him would he give me the chance to communicate with some +business men in Gloucester and buy her back, but he only laughs at me, +and laughs in a way to make me think I was a child. + +And in one way I was sort of a child, then, but I didn't begin to +realize how much of a child till I heard a voice giving orders to make +sail on the _Aurora_. A coast steamer had just come in, and from her had +come a crew of men to take the _Aurora_ away, and this was the voice of +the man who gave me the keg of rum that night in Saint Pierre. And while +I was looking at him another man came alongside from the coast steamer, +and this was Miller himself. If the _Aurora_ had been within distance I +would have jumped aboard; but she had her lower sails up then and was +moving in pretty lively fashion out of the harbor. + +I sat on a rock on the beach to think it over, and, "Alec Corning," I +said to myself at last--"they cert'nly tried you with the right kind o' +bait--and hooked you good." + +And I wondered how I could get square with Miller. No use trying to stir +up Washington. There was an old skipper of mine, and they'd fined him +three thousand dollars once for just a difference of opinion and he +couldn't pay it, and his vessel at that moment was being used for a +light-ship, and all he'd been getting out of Washington were State +Department letters for ten years. And he had cert'nly as much political +pull as I had, for I had none. + +No, no State Department for mine, I says at last, and ships my crew up +to John Rose to Folly Cove, telling them to help John with the herring, +and to tell him, too, to save the herring for me, that I'd get 'em back +to Gloucester some way, and myself takes passage next day on the mail +packet to Saint Pierre. + +It was after dark of Christmas Eve when I landed at Saint Pierre. I went +up to Argand's Caffay, a place where all kinds of seafaring people used +to go to get a drink and a bite to eat. There were quite a few in there +now--French stokers from a steamer or two and half a dozen French +man-of-war's men from a French gun-boat that was lying in the harbor, I +remember. + +I didn't see any American fishermen in Argand's, but I knew that some +of 'em would be drifting in before long. And by and by a few did, but me +saying nothing to any of them, only sitting over to a table in a corner +with a little bit of supper, and thinking that it was going to be a blue +kind of Christmas for me, and a blue Christmas at home, too, for by this +time Gloucester must've got the news of the seizure of the _Aurora_, and +somebody'd surely passed the word to the wife. + +I was sitting there, in the corner, figuring things out and not +bothering much about the people coming and going, when somebody sits +down at my table, and no sooner down than I felt his boot pressing mine +under the table. I looked up, and it was Archie Gillis. + +"A fine one _you_!" I breaks out--"where's Sam?" + +"Gi'me a chance now, skipper," says Gillis, and orders a little +something, and when the waiter was gone: "Sam's not far away. I left him +up to Antone's rolling dice for turkeys. We came over, him and me, on a +little French packet. Sam guessed you'd come back to Saint Pierre, and +if you did he knew you'd drop in here. Sam'll be here soon, he guessed +you'd come here. We've been tryin' to find out about the _Aurora_. She's +in the harbor, and they're going to put out to-night." + +"For where?" + +"Well, it's a fishin' trip she's cleared for, but she's got more than +offshore bait in her hold." + +Archie had been talking straight down at his plate. Now he stood up, and +from behind his napkin said: "There's the skipper o' the +_Aurora_--tryin' to collect his gang together. Don't look around. But +he'll have hard work, 'cause Sam and me spent most of th' afternoon +gettin' 'em drunk--specially Sam. An' Sam says don't notice him when you +see him come in, for the new _Aurora_ gang don't know yet that we was +any of your crew." Gillis tossed his napkin down and strolled over to +the bar. + +By and by I heard a familiar voice at the door--could 'a' heard it a +block--and pretty soon Sam himself comes rolling in. He was carrying a +monstrous turkey, and he spied Archie first thing. And, "Hullo, Archie +boy," he shouts. "Throw your binnacle lights on that, will you? Thirty +pounds he weighs--like you see him--and twenty-five he'll weigh, or I'm +no fancy poultry raiser, when he's ready for the oven." + +Gillis poked his finger into the breast of the turkey. "I wish we had +him for to-morrow, Sammie. He'd make a nice little lunch, that lad." + +"Well, we'll have him, Archie, for to-morrow. We'll have him--the +biggest turkey ever sailed out of ol' Sain' Peer. A whale, look at him." + +"Aye, some tonnage to him. But y' never won him here, Sammie?" + +"Win _him_ here? _Here_? In Argand's? Ever know anybody win anything +here? No, sir. I won him up to ol' Antone's. Twenty-seven throws at +twenty-five cents a throw." + +"Twenty-seven! You could 'a' bought two of 'em for that." + +"Bought? Of course I could 'a' bought; but who wants to buy a turkey +Christmas time? Why, any fat old shuffle-footed loafer can take a basket +under his arm and go down t' the market and pay down his money and come +away with a turkey or anything else he wants. 'Tain't the _getting_ him. +Archie--it's the winnin' him from a lot of hot sports that think they +c'n roll dice. Twenty-seven throws I took and with every throw a free +drink of good old cassy--" + +"Twenty-seven drinks o' cassy! A lot you knew about what you was rollin' +by then, Sammie." + +"'Tain't what I knew, but what I _did_, that counted, Archie, and it +takes more than twenty-seven glasses o' cassy to put my rail under. +_You_ oughter know that, Archie. I knew what I was doin'--don't worry. +An' that twenty-seventh rollin'! I shook 'em up--spittin' to wind'ard +for luck--and lets 'em run. And out they comes a-bowlin'. Seventeen! +Cert'nly a fine run-off that, I says, and drops 'em in again, limbers my +wrist a couple o' times, and then--two fives and a six--thirty-three! I +gathers 'em in again, takes off my cardigan jacket, lays my cigar on the +rail, jibes my elbows to each side--'Action,' I says. 'Action.' Yer +could hear 'em breathin' a cable length all around me. I curls my +fingers over the box, snaps her across an' back again. The len'th of the +table they rolled. Three sixes--fifty-one. 'Mong doo,' yells ol' +Antone--'Sankantoon--not since fifteen year do I see such play.' Well, +for another hour they rolled, but that fifty-one was still high-line. I +took him away. And alongside this lad when we have him to-morrow, +Archie, there'll be a special bottle o' wine--some red-colored wine. I +don't know the name of it. Good stuff, though, and ol' Antone gave it to +me--a special bottle." + +"An' well he might arter all the money you spent there, Sammie." + +"An' why not there as well as the next place? Why not there as well as +here? Why not?" Sam glared down to the end of the bar, where Argand +himself was taking in the cash, and his eyes, roaming round the room, +caught mine and he winked. "A gen'l'man, ol' Antone, which every caffy +keeper ain't--an' because he's a gen'l'man, and because some others +ain't--" Sam looked around to see if Argand was getting that--"because +some others ain't--because some others ain't, I say--an' I could name +'em, too, if I wanted--I could, yes." + +I caught another flash from Sam's eyes, and, looking where his eyes +pointed, I saw my _Aurora_ captain and three or four of his crew, who +had just come in. + +"Name him, Sammie--name him," urged Gillis. "Name the cross-breeded +dog-fish--name 'im, Sammie, name 'im." + +All this was foolish enough, perhaps, but not to Henri Argand, who ran +this place. He didn't have reputation enough to be able to stand off and +laugh at Sammie and Archie--probably not--for by and by, with four or +five helpers, he comes with a rush and in ten seconds it was a mix-up. +Sam and Gillis put their backs to the bar and gave battle. There were +only the two of them, and the turkey, at first. A great bird a +turkey--especially when you swing him by the ankles. Down went a waiter, +and down went another waiter. Sam made a couple of tremendous swipes, +and then down went the _Aurora's_ captain and one of his crew. The +_Aurora's_ captain's head, I thought, would be knocked clean off, the +way the turkey hit him. Then over went a row of French stokers, and, +with a back-handed sweep of the turkey, down went the bartender behind. +And Sam and Archie, I could see, were working over to finish the +_Aurora's_ new crew, and would've got 'em, too, but Argand, inside the +bar, picks up a bung-starter, sneaks down and gives Sam and Archie a +couple of slick taps over the ear, and down they went--just slid feet +first away from the bar and on to the floor, flat--and as they slid +Argand reaches over and grabs the turkey out of Sam's hand. + +[Illustration: Sam made a couple of tremendous swipes, and then down +went the _Aurora's_ captain and one of his crew] + +That sort of put it up to our national pride--there was six or seven +American fishermen in the place--and we waded in, and the French +man-of-war's men, they waded in, and it was one fine battle for maybe +ten minutes, with nothing in the way of empty bottles, or full ones +either, being overlooked. And when we couldn't reach any more chairs or +table legs we pulled off our sea boots, and, believe me, a big red jack +with a three-quarter-inch sole and an inch and a half of heel--you grab +a sea boot o' that size--it don't weigh more than four pounds or so--you +grab it by the ears and get a full healthy swing on it and let it hit a +man anywhere above the water-line, and he won't mistake it for any sofa +cushion. + +It was a fine fight, and I think we'd 'a' won out only for the +re-enforcements from outside. A liberty party of French man-of-war's men +come first, and then the police lads with the red trousers and the +swords, and out we went into the street. + +And when they got us out they locked the doors and barred the windows. + +While I was pulling on my red jacks again, out under the lamp, on the +corner of the street, up comes Sam and Archie. "Say, Alec," begins Sam, +"but you cert'nly laid 'em out with your sea boot." + +I thought Sam and Archie would be pretty well smashed up, but there +wasn't a mark on 'em except a couple of lumps behind their ears. + +"Not us," explained Sam. "Nothin' happened to us except bein' stepped on +a few dozen times. But did y' land the rest o' the _Aurora's_ crew, +Alec?" + +"I don't know. I swung for 'em, Sam." + +"You got 'em all right, and that'll put it out o' their heads to bother +with the _Aurora_ to-night, though"--he cocked up an ear to the whistle +of a rising breeze--"it begins to feel like they wouldn't 'a' gone out +anyway--it's breezing up so." + +"Where's she layin'?" + +"Off the end o' the big dock. An' if it keeps on breezin' they won't be +goin' out in the mornin' either. A bad time anyway to put out on a +cruise--Christmas Day. But what d'y' say, Alec, if we take a look around +the place?" + +We'd got a pretty good start for Christmas Eve, and around Saint Pierre +we went, Sam and Archie and four men of the _Lucy Foster's_ crew who'd +been in the mix-up. They were ready to tear things up, but there wasn't +much to tear up, because everybody heard us coming, and whenever we'd +get to a place, we'd find the doors locked and the windows barred. The +only place not locked that night was the little cathedral, and by and +by, when we found there was no place else to go, we all went in there. + +It was a midnight mass being celebrated, and it was the sound of the +choir voices coming from there that got us, and, Catholics or no, no +matter, we all went in and heard mass, too, and when we came out, not +feeling like trouble any more, we all went down to old Antone's and +turned in. + +Christmas morning everybody was feeling better, all but Sam Leary and +me. I was thinking of my vessel, and Sam of his big turkey. He wanted to +get that turkey. He wasn't going to leave Saint Pierre till he got it +back. No, sir, he wasn't. And he had a pretty good notion just where it +was then. Up to Argand's, cooking for Henri's Christmas dinner. Or maybe +him gettin' fifty cents a plate for it for customers' dinners. And he'd +cut up for about forty platefuls. And for forty plates at fifty cents or +two francs a plate. "Mong doo an' sankantoon," yells Sam all at once. +"Come on, Archie--come on, fellows"--and up the street went Sam and +Archie and the four of the _Lucy Foster's_ crew to see about the turkey. + +But that wasn't getting me my vessel, and I went down to the water-front +to look for her. There she was, my lovely _Aurora_, to anchor in the +stream, and there was me on the end of the dock looking at her, and +that's all I could do--look at her. She was lying to two anchors and +with her mains'l standing. A little further off shore and even her two +anchors couldn't 've kept her from dragging and piling up on the rocks +with that mains'l up, for a rocky harbor is Saint Pierre, and now it was +blowing a living gale of wind. + +While I was standing there on the big dock, along comes the trader +Miller with another chap. He must 've seen me, but he pretended not, and +I didn't make any sign I saw him. He pointed out the _Aurora_ to the +man, saying a few things in French. And then he raised his voice. + +"When it moderates she will depart--and with a car-go," he said--the +last in English, and by that I knew he meant it for me. "Go on," I grit +out, "go on, have your fun." + +"Yes, I pur-chased her ver-ry cheap," goes on Miller, and then a great +racket, and down the dock on the run comes Sam with his big turkey, +which was all cooked, I could see, fine and brown--and Archie behind Sam +and the four _Lucy Foster_ men behind Archie and behind them again a +bunch of Argand's waiters and the gendarmes with the red trousers and +swords. + +There was a dory tied up to the end of the dock; I don't know who owned +it, but there it was. "Come on, jump in." I yells, and all hands piled +in, and we shoved off; all in one motion almost, and by the time +Argand's crowd got to the stringpiece we were a vessel length away, and +pulling like homeward bound. + +"Lay to it." I kept saying to them. + +"Aye, lay to it, and we'll eat that turkey for Christmas yet," yells +Sam. + +"Lay to it, and we'll have more than the turkey." I says. + +"What's that we'll have, Alec?" hollers Sam. + +"Pull to the Aurora and see." I hollers back. It was blowing so hard we +could hardly hear each other, and what with the chop we were driving the +dory through we might well have been in swimming. + +We made the _Aurora_, and, looking back as I leaped over her rail, I +could see Miller running back up the dock. + +"Hurry, fellows." I yells to them, "Miller's gone to head us off." + +As we drops onto the _Aurora's_ deck a head pops out of the fo'c's'le +companion-way. He looked like he'd just come out of a fine sleep. +"You," I yelled, "allay you--rauss--beat it," and rushed him to the dory +we'd just come aboard in. He looks up at me in the most puzzled way. Two +more heads popped up out of the companion-way. "And allay you two," +yells Sam and Archie, and grabs 'em and heaves 'em into the dory, casts +off her painter, and they drifts off like men in a trance. One minute +they were sound asleep in their bunks and the next adrift and +half-dressed in a dory in the middle of the harbor with a gale of wind +roaring in their ears and a choppy sea wetting 'em down. + +"In with her chain-anchor slack," I calls, "and then up with her jibs," +which they did. "And now her fores'l--up with her fores'l." Then we +broke out her chain-anchor. I was to the wheel and knew the second the +anchor was clear of the bottom by the way she leaped under me. "Don't +stop to cat-head that anchor," I calls, "but cut her hawser." They cut +her hawser free, and with the big anchor-rope kinking through the +hawse-hole, away went the _Aurora_, picking up, as she went, the +chain-anchor with its eight or ten fathoms of chain still out and +tucking it under her bilge; and there that anchor stayed, jammed hard +against her bottom planking, while she rushed across the harbor. + +"Now," I said, "let's see if we c'n work out of this blessed pocket +without somebody having to notify the insurance companies afterward." + +All along the water-front the people by now were crowding to look at us. +All they saw was an American fishing schooner with a crazy American crew +trying to pick her way through a crowded harbor with her four lowers set +in a living gale. + +We were across the harbor in no time. "Stand by now--stand by sheets," I +sung out. Steady as statues they waited for the word, and when they got +it--"Har-r-d a-lee-e!" Whf-f the steam came out of them, and the busiest +of all was Sam Leary, with the big turkey between his feet. + +As she came around I was afraid her anchor would take bottom and her way +be checked. It did touch, but the _Aurora_ spun on her toes so quick +that before that anchor knew it was down she was off and flying free +again. + +All this time I was looking around for Miller and at last I saw him in a +little power boat. He had the French gun-boat in mind that was sure, but +his craft was making heavy weather of it, and before he was half-way to +the gun-boat we were under her stern, on our shoot for the harbor +entrance, and from the gun-boat's deck they were peeping down on us, +grinning and yelling the same as everybody else, waiting to see us pile +up on the rocks somewhere. + +But no rocks for the _Aurora_ that Christmas Day. She knew what we +wanted of her. There's a spindle beacon in Saint Pierre harbor, +white-painted slats on a white-painted rock sticking out of the water, +and there was a French packet lying to the other side. We had to go +between. I knew they were betting a hundred to one we'd hit one or the +other. + +We weathered the packet and squeezed by the beacon. The end of our long +bowsprit did hit the white-painted slats, gave 'em a good healthy +wallop, but that wasn't any surprise--we figured on going close. We were +by and safe, and looking back from the wheel to mark her wake swashing +over the very rock itself, I had to whisper _to_ her: + +"_Aurora_, girl, you're all I ever said you were." But if you'd seen +her, the big spars of her, the set of her rigging, the fine-fitting +sails, the beautiful line of the rail, and the straight flat deck, you'd +have to admit it wasn't any surprise. You couldn't 've done it with +every vessel--but the _Aurora!_ A great bit of wood, the _Aurora!_ + +And looking past her wake, I picked out Miller's motor boat along inside +the French gun-boat. But no gun-boat was worrying me then. They might +chase me, but the gun-boat wasn't afloat that could 've chased and +caught the _Aurora_ in that gale. A man didn't need to be a French +captain to know that. + +But for fear they might chase us, I kept her going. And after we'd had +time to get our breath, we took a peek into her hold. And it was loaded +with cases--wine, brandy--liquors of all kinds. And the gang said: "How +about it, skipper?" And I said: "Help yourself--you've earned it," and +they helped themselves. + +And they had their promised Christmas dinner. The turkey had only to be +warmed up. After it was warmed up, it was fine to hear Sam telling about +the recapturing of it. "He was in the kitchen--just been hauled out the +oven--and the chef, he was standing over him with a big carving knife, +when I spots the pair of 'em through the window. 'Stand by, fellows,' I +hollers, and jumps through the window and grabs the carving knife and +chases cheffie out the room with it. And back through the window comes +me and the turk. An' they all hollers murder and comes after us. And +look at him now! Twenty-five pounds he weighs--the biggest turkey, I'm +tellin' you, ever sailed out of ol' Saint Peer. A whale, twenty-five +pounds as he lies there. And four kinds of wine--four kinds. Cassie, +champagne, claret, which you don't have to drink 'less you want to, and +that red-colored wine I don't know the name of, but good stuff--I +sampled it. And that's what I call a Christmas dinner." + +And I guess it was. Pretty soon they were hopping around like a lot of +leaping goats. The best-natured crowd ever you see, mind, but it was +Christmas Day, and they'd done a good job; the blood was running wild +inside them, and I let them run a while. And then when I thinks it time +to begin to straighten them out, I looks them over and finally picking +out Archie Gillis I says, 'Archie, I think you're the drunkest! Take the +wheel and soak it out.' + +And Archie stood to the wheel, and up the cabin steps the rest of the +gang kept passing him drinks of champagne when they thought I wasn't +looking. + +By dark of that Christmas we shot into Folly Cove in Placentia Bay and +came to anchor off John Rose's wharf. And the _Aurora's_ crew were there +helping John, and there was the load of herring John had promised. And +he thought I'd come for the herring, but I hadn't--not yet. I had a word +in private with John, and he found a nice little place among the cliffs, +and with John Rose and the _Aurora's_ crew it didn't take long to stow +those cases of wine where no stranger would find them in a hurry. + +And when that was done I goes over the papers again. And sure enough, +her papers read for a fishing trip to the Grand Banks. Her crew had been +shipped for a fishing trip. Her gear, dories, bait (not much bait +though) was all for a fishing trip. It was plain as could be, I had +Miller under my lee. And so we put out again into the night, and before +daylight we were back in Saint Pierre harbor again, and all hands +ashore. + +And when Miller woke up in the morning there was the _Aurora_ laying to +anchor in the stream just where she'd been the morning before. And we +were having a nice little breakfast up to Antone's when Miller and the +governor and the gun-boat captain comes to get me. And Miller was going +to arrest me, put me in irons, not a minute's delay, not one, and I says +"For what?" And Miller throws up his hands and repeats: "For what? He +says for what? Mong Doo, for what?" And I says: "Yes, for what? What are +you going to arrest me for? For a little excursion trip, a little run +off shore, is it?--so's to eat our Christmas turkey in peace?" I see +that my play lay with the French naval officer, so I turns to him. +"There was a turkey. Old Antone here will tell you that it belonged to +one of my men, Mr. Leary here--that he won it fairly, and that the same +turkey was stolen from him in Henri Argand's. And Mr. Leary got it back. +And they would not let him have it in peace, and so, to escape +mistreatment, we jumped aboard the first vessel we saw in the stream and +put out the harbor. You yourself doubtless, saw us." He nodded. "Your +whole crew saw us. The whole harbor saw us. There was no concealment." I +stopped for the French captain and the governor to get that. Miller was +looking at me goo-goo-eyed, but both the officials nodded and said: +"That is true." + +"And when we found ourselves safe out to sea, we had our dinner, our +Christmas dinner--in the peace we had sought. And surely these +gentlemen"--I bowed my best to the gun-boat captain and the +magistrate--"do not consider that a crime--to ask to be allowed to eat +our Christmas dinner in peace." + +Miller was fair up in the air by then--"You pi-rates--pi-rates." + +I leaps to my feet. "Pirates--to me? To these men? Simple honest +fishermen who know only toil? Who toils harder than they? Pirates--to +them! Why, if they were anything but the simplest and honestest set of +men, they would have taken that vessel out of my hands and sold +her--sold her in the States--and what could you or I or anybody have +done about it? But did they--or I? No, sir. As soon as we had finished +our Christmas dinner we brought her back." + +"But the wine?" shrieks Miller. + +"What wine?" + +"The wine--the wine--her cargo of wine." + +"Wine? Cargo of wine--what's he talking about?" I looks at my crowd, +and they all says: "Wine? Cargo of wine?--he's crazy." + +I turns impatiently to the governor and French captain. "Gentlemen, this +is a serious accusation, but easily settled. If there was wine in that +vessel, surely her papers will say something of it. It will be on her +manifest, that is certain." + +Now these two, the governor and the French naval officer, were honest +men. "That is so," they said. "He is quite right--quite right," and +looked at Miller, and Miller, with his eyes like door-knobs, looks at +me. And I gives him a wink with my wind'ard eye and he near blew up. + +But he begins to see a thing or two, so he goes off with the French +officials, but before we had finished smoking our after-breakfast +pipeful he comes back--alone now--and says: "What do you propose?" And I +said: "Within a thousand miles of here is a friend of mine with a lot of +wine--as good a lot as the _Aurora_ had in her hold yesterday--maybe a +couple of dozen quarts shy--you know, a Christmas dinner, and so on--and +only last night my friend was figuring it up, and he thought there was +twenty thousand dollars' worth in this lot of his, and that without +figuring in the duty--but he don't care for wine much--but he does love +a good Vessel, and he was looking the _Aurora_ over and he said he'd be +willing to exchange all that wine for the _Aurora_. I told him that the +_Aurora_ only cost you twenty-five hundred, but he said, 'No matter, I +have a weakness for the _Aurora_,' this friend of mine. Of course +there'll be a few little extra expenses you'll have to pay for, like the +hawser and the big anchor cut away and the keep of a crew for a week +over in Newfoundland, and so on, but that won't be much--five hundred +dollars ought to cover it all." + +And Miller gave back the _Aurora_ and paid over the five hundred, and I +gave him an order on John Rose for the wine. And then I took the little +baby's brooch out of my pocket and handed it back to him. + +And then I sailed over to Placentia Bay in the _Aurora_ and took +twenty-one hundred barrels of herring off John Rose and put out, and, +getting the first of a stiff easterly, the _Aurora_ carried it all the +way to Gloucester. And I was home to the wife and baby by New Year's. +And the baby got a good brooch. I could afford it. From the profits of +twenty-one hundred barrels of fine fat herring I could well afford it. + +I haven't seen Miller since, but they say he's shyer than he used to be +of simple American fishermen. + + + + +>Light-Ship 67 + + +Perrault was the good old Frenchman who kept the general store just +across from the Navy Yard gate, and Baldwin was the chief boson's mate, +U.S.N., who commanded the _Whist_, the little tug which was used as a +general utility boat by the Navy Yard people. + +Old Perrault was born in Paris, and, in God's goodness, hoped yet to die +there. And Baldwin had been in Paris, more than once in his cruising +youth, and could converse of Paris; and to converse of Paris, in such +loving language, was it not to win one's heart? + +Old Perrault had never dissembled his regard for the sailor. A pity he +viewed life so carelessly, the brave-hearted Baldwin. So excellent in +many respects, if he had but a little ambition for himself! If he but +hearkened a little for the world's opinion. But such a man! Sometimes +old Perrault wished that his motherless Claire would disregard all his +wordly homilies, fall in love with the rugged Baldwin, and marry him. + +Baldwin himself maintained no such exalted hopes. A fine husband he'd +make after his riotous years! But he had a friend, recently detailed to +the yard, and warmly recommended by the boson's mate, this friend Harty, +chief wireless operator, soon came to be the most regular of all the +Saturday night attendants at old Perrault's store. It was on Saturday +nights that the unmarried foreman on the breakwater job came up to see +old Perrault. If you stood well with the old fellow, like as not he +would ask you to the house of a Sunday afternoon, and then you could sit +around and rest your eyes on the lovely Claire while she played the +piano. + +One might think that old Perrault, who so casually picked his company, +was a careless sort of parent; but not so, as witness his questioning of +Baldwin, when it began to dawn on him that this wireless operator was +becoming a distinguished member of the Sunday afternoon parties; and the +boson's mate, who revered old Perrault, but who also thought a lot of +his friend Harty, spoke judiciously. + +"He's all right," he replied to old Perrault, "all right. Yes, I know he +used to drink an' was generally wild once; but he's over that. Oh, sure, +all over that now." + +It was beginning to look like Harty for Perrault's son-in-law, when +Bowen came along. Bowen was the expert who came to overhaul the wireless +plant in the yard. An easy-going, but wide-awake sort, Bowen, who +seemed to have been everywhere and who could talk of where he had been, +talk without end, and always with the intimate little touches which you +never found in the guidebooks. He captured old Perrault at the first +assault. Old Perrault from behind his counter happening to catch a stray +word, listened, looked up, and, noting the animated features, hastily +signalled the new-comer to come out of the crowd. One minute later he +had put the vital question: Had Mr. Bowen ever been to Paris? + +To Paris! Bowen started to touch the end of a finger for every time he +had been to Paris. Old Perrault could not wait for him to finish. "And +the Champs Elysees, Mister Bowen, you have been there?" + +"The Champs Elysees? If I had a dollar, M'sieu Perrault--" + +"Eh?" The old man wanted to hear him say that "M'sieu" in just that way +again--"if you had one dollar, Mister Bowen?" + +Bowen understood. "Yes, if I had a dollar, M'sieu, for every time I sat +on one of those chairs inside the sidewalk--in under the trees, you +know, M'sieu--and watched the autos go by! Talk about autos!--there's +the place for autos, coming down from that big Napoleon Arch. Some arch, +that, isn't it? Yes, sir--down from there to the Place de la Concorde +and back again, around the Arch and on to the Bois. And there's a sight +for a man, too! To sit out on the Bois sidewalk, M'sieu, your chair +almost under the bushes, and watch those cabs and autos in the late +afternoon, coming on dark. Count them? No more than you could count +fire-flies of an evening in the West Indies--like one string of light." + +"Mon Dieu! Come to the inner room, if you please, sir, and tell me more. +What a good angel which has sent you here! Twenty-five years since I +have seen my Paris. And the Tuileries, my friend, is it yet the same?" + +"Just the same, M'sieu, a million bare-legged children with short white +socks running wild, and another half a million nurses with white caps +running wild after them. And the Eiffel Tower! But that's since your +time, M'sieu Perrault?" + +"Ah--h, but have I not heard? Continue, continue, if you please, sir. +You bring a strange joy to my heart. The Louvre, for example--you have +been there, yes?" + +"Been there? Yes, and 'most googoo-eyed from looking at the pictures +there--miles of 'em, aren't there?" + +"Oh-h! and Mona Lisa--yes!" + +"That dark one with the queer kind of a smile? She must have had green +eyes, that one--green eyes with lights in them. And she kept them all +guessing, I'll bet a hat, when she was alive--" and Bowen ran on till +every blessed breakwater man silently stole away. Bowen and old Perrault +had a three o'clock session that first night; and within the year he had +married Claire. + + +II + +Having completed his work on the wireless plant at the Navy Yard, Bowen +thought himself due for a lay-off. And he did want to be home for a +while, but orders came to have installed before the end of the year an +experimental plant on Light-ship 67, which guarded Tide Rip Shoal to the +eastward. + +Bowen, with his two helpers and his apparatus, took passage with Baldwin +on the wheezy little _Whist_ to where, twenty miles east by south from +the end of the breakwater, lay the tossing light-ship. + +Baldwin was well acquainted with old 67. Every once in a while the +commandant would order Baldwin to make this trip for the accommodation +of somebody or other in the yard. "But a wonder," he observed now, as he +had observed a score of times before on nearing her--"a wonder they +wouldn't put one of those new class o' steam lightships out here. If I +was you, Bowen, I'd have an eye to the life-boat you see hanging to her +stern there." + +"Why?" + +"Well, if the old hooker went adrift, you might need it." + +"What's her sails for?" + +"I dunno. I often wondered, though. They've been tied up, just like you +see 'em now--stopped snug and neat between gaffs and booms--for, oh, I +dunno--twenty years now, I reckon. I know I've yet to see 'em hoisted. +But when'll I come and get you?" + +"I'll send word to the yard station by wireless, to Harty or whoever's +on watch there, when we get it rigged." + +"All right. And say, a great thing that wireless, ain't it? Well, good +luck." Baldwin gave the bell and the _Whist_ backed away. He rolled his +wheel over, gave her another bell and around she came; then the jingle +and ahead she went full-speed, which in smooth water was almost eight +knots. + +The light-ship crew, headed by her yellow-haired keeper, stood around +and watched Bowen and his helpers assembling the parts of the wireless. +A momentous occasion for the light-ship crew, for nobody bothered them +much. Once every two months the supply ship came around, and sometimes, +if the weather was fine, some unhurried coaster would stand in and toss +them a bundle of newspapers. But no running alongside old 67 by any big +fellows. A good point of departure, Tide Rip Shoal! Sight it over your +stern and lay your course by her, but otherwise give her a wide berth; +for you could pile up a ten-thousand tonner on that shoal or the beach +to the west and--yes, sir, high and dry, before you knew it, especially +if it was thick and you were coming from the east'ard. No, the big +fellows were satisfied to have a peek at Tide Rip through a long glass; +and so on 67 anything at all except a spell of bad weather stirred them +deeply. + +In the daylight hours Bowen and his helpers worked at their wireless, +and at night they sat in with the light-ship crew. Bowen usually played +checkers in the cabin with the keeper, Nelson, and while they played the +keeper gave him the gossip. He had been nineteen years on Tide Rip Shoal +light-ship, had keeper Nelson. + +"No, no things never happen. He blow and she tumble about and her chain +chafe--chafe tarrible sometime. Nineteen year those chain ban chafe so. +One time he blow ten day without stop, but" (he removed his big pipe to +laugh aloud)--"but ten day over and she right dere. Good ol' 67, she ban +right dere. I axpect ol' 67, she be here on Yoodgment Day." Old Nelson +put his pipe back, puffed three times, frowned at the checker-board, +scratched his yellow head, let drop his eyelids and pondered. At about +the time Bowen began to think the keeper must be taking a nap, a long +arm swooped down and moved a black checker one square north-easterly. + +Now, if Bowen had been riding to anchor in that one spot with old 67 for +nineteen years, perhaps he, too, would have paid small attention to a +gale of wind and a high sea; but he was a shore-going man, and he grew +very, very weary of the jumping and the rolling, and of the everlasting +rattling and chafing of the iron chains in the iron hawse-holes. + +Two chains there were, like double-leashes to a whippet's throat. The +heave of the sea would get her and up she would ride, shaking, snapping, +quivering to get her head. Up, up she would go, and as she struggled up, +up, Bowen, watching, would find himself crying out, "By the Lord, she's +parted them." But no--Gr-r--the iron chains would go, Kr-r the iron +hawse-holes would echo, and, suddenly brought to, dead she would stop, +shake herself, and again shake herself to get free; but always the +savage chains would be there to her throat, and down she would fall +trembling; and the white slaver would scatter a cable length from her +jaws as she fell. + +Bowen, with an arm hooked into a weather-stay, would stand out and watch +her by the hour; and "Some fine night you'll break loose," he would say +over and over to himself, "and then there'll be the devil to pay around +here," and on returning to the cabin he would tell Nelson about it. + +"No, no," Nelson would shake his head, and after he had had time to +think it over, he would smile at Bowen's fears. On nights like these, +when he couldn't have his little game because he couldn't keep the +checkers from hopping off the board, Nelson liked to lie in his bunk, +within range of the big, square, sawdust-filled box which set just +forward of the cheerful stove. With eyes mostly on the oil-clothed +floor, the light-keeper would smoke and yarn unhurriedly. "No, no," +Nelson would repeat. "For nineteen year now she ban here, yoost like you +see now. No drift for ol' 67. She ban too well trained." + +But the chafed-out chains gave way at last. Christmas Eve it was, the +night when Bowen had hoped to be through with his work. It was also the +third and worst night of the gale, and Bowen, restless, homesick, was on +deck to see it. She leaped and strained as she had leaped and strained +ten thousand times before--and then they writhed, those chains, like a +stricken rattlesnake, for perhaps three seconds, and S-s-t!--quick as +that--they went whistling into the boiling sea. Off she sprang +then--Bowen could no more than have snapped his fingers ere she was +off--foolishly, wildly, and then, almost as suddenly as she had leaped, +she fetched up. It was as if she didn't know just what to do in her new +freedom. And while she paused, the sea swept down and caught her one +under the ear. Broadside she broached and aboard her foamed the +ceaseless sea, and the wind took her. And whing! and bing! and +Kr-r-r-k!--that was the life-boat splintered and torn loose. And sea, +and wind, and tide, all working together on old 67, away she went before +it. + +Inshore, they knew, the high surf was booming; and they made sail then, +and for a while thought they could weather it; but when the whistling +devils caught the rotten, age-eaten, untested canvas--whoosh! countless +strips of dirty, rusty canvas were riding the clouded heavens like some +unwashed witches. + +[Illustration: By and by he caught an answering call] + +Tide and wind were taking her toward the beach, and Bowen, everybody, +even the unimaginative viking in command, could picture that beach and +the surf piling up on it. High as the light above their heads it would +be, and they would live just about ten seconds in it. Yes, if they were +lucky, they might last that long. + +Bowen was one of those workmen who like to make a good job of a thing. +He was not ready to send his first wireless message. Another morning's +work and he had hoped to be ready, and that first message was to be a +Christmas greeting to his wife; but now he made shift to get a message +away in some fashion. With limber wrist and fingers he began to snap out +his signal number. A dozen, twenty, surely a hundred times he repeated +the letters, holding up every half minute or so to listen. By and by he +caught an answering call. It was the Navy Yard station. Feverishly he +sent: + +"Light-ship 67. Tide Rip Shoal. Have parted moorings. Drifting toward +beach. Send help." + +He waited for an answer. None came. He repeated. No answer. Over and +over he sent it. At last he caught: "OK. Been getting you. Go on." + +"Drifting fast. West by south. Before morning will be in surf." + +Again Bowen waited, and then the answer came: "What do you want me to +do?" + +"Do something to save us." + +"Why don't you do something to save yourself?" + +"Sails blown away. Life-boat gone." + +"Haven't you got a chart of Paris?" + +"Chart of what?" + +"Paris? With a few M'sieus on it? Good night." + +Bowen let go the key, leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes, took +off his receiving gear and stared at the wall. + +"What answer?" Nelson and his peering crew were at his shoulder. + +"No answer." + +"Dan we moost go up and dowse dose signal light, so no ship t'ink we ban +on shoal yet," and out onto the deck the impassive Nelson led his men. + +"Good old squarehead--you're all right," muttered Bowen. "But as for +you," he gritted, "if I could only--just one grip of your throat is all +I'd ask for, and then, you dog!" + + +III + +Harty closed his wireless office and headed for the water-front. Near +the shore-end of the breakwater he came to a halt. He could but dimly +see the beginning of the outstretching wall of concrete, but plainly +enough he could hear the combers thundering over the crest of it. + +A proper night for an enemy to be adrift in a powerless hulk. Sea +enough to suit any purpose out there. And wind! From where he stood in +the lee of the donkey-engine house, to the water's edge was a full +hundred feet, and yet even so, whenever he stepped out into the open, it +was only to be drenched with spray. And out there in the blackness, +twenty miles offshore, it would be blowing good; out there on the edge +of that bank, in the hollow of the short, high, ugly seas, was a +rolling, battered light-ship; as helpless as--well, there was nothing +ashore to compare to her helplessness. And when she hit in on the +beach--when she hit the sand--it would be over and over she'd roll, and +out of her he would come and be smothered. For a second he'd be smooth +and sleek as a wet rat and then--Oh, then! + +Even in moderate weather, what chance would they have in that surf? And +to-night it would be to her mast-head, with combers curving like a +rattlesnake's neck, and twisting, and hissing, and they would catch him +up, and ten ways he'd go then, gurgling, smothering, drowning, and his +body, if ever it did come ashore for anybody to find,--after a December +night,--they'd find it frozen stiff. + +The walls of the little engine house were icing up, the spray was +freezing on his moustache--surely a proper night for a man's enemy to be +lost. In the lee of the little shack he lit a cigar; but it would not +stay lit, and he threw it from him. The curse which he hove after it +brought an answering hail from across the dock, "Hullo there"! Harty +drew back, but the hurrying step drew nearer, and suddenly the hurrying +form was beside him, and a pair of eyes were peering at him. + +"Who's this? Why, hullo, Bud! What you doin' here?" + +"Who's that? Oh, hello, Baldy. Where'd you come from?" + +"From the _Whist_--where else? Told the crew to beat it--all except old +Pete. Holidays don't mean anything to Pete, so he's sleeping aboard. A +wild night, Bud. Maybe we wasn't glad not to be caught outside! The old +_Whist_ she'd sure have a fine time outside to-night. She'd last about +half a night-watch out there--say out where old 67 is to-night. But +where you bound, Bud?" + +"Nowhere--anywhere." + +"Well, what d'y' say if we take a look in on old Perrault?" + +"What do you want to go there for?" + +"Oh, forget that. Come on. Every Christmas Eve since I've known him +we've drunk a Christmas health together. A good old scout, Perrault, and +you and me, Bud, we ought to be ashamed the way we kept away from him +lately. Passed him on the street the other day. 'Ah-h, dear Baldwin, +you have time for the Port Light saloon, but not for your old frien'", +and he shakes his old head. 'Please, do not fail, Cap-tan, on this +Christmas Eve!' he says to me. 'And Mr. Harty also.' Come on now. Be +good. 'Twarn't him didn't marry you, mind. Come on, Bud and forget it." + +"All right--go ahead." + +It was old Perrault himself who spotted Baldwin coming in the door of +the store. His joy was bursting. "Ah-h, Cap-tan! Ah-h, you come once +more to see your old frien'. And you also, Mister Harty. Now then--and +you shall also, Mister Harty. Yes, yes, I say it--drink with me to the +Christmas." + +Baldwin filled his glass. Harty made no move. + +"Come on, Bud, you too. What's the matter with you? Here, fill her up. +What's the matter with you, anyway, to-night?" + +"I'm on the water-wagon." + +"Since when?" + +"Since to-day." + +"Sufferin' Neptune! Who ever heard of a water-wagon doin' business on +Christmas Eve? I think if we looked it up, you'd find a law against it, +and if there ain't, there ought to be. Come on. No? Well, all right, +stay on it. Mo-sher Perrault--" and, as he had done for many a +Christmas Eve before, Baldwin touched his glass to old Perrault's, and +gave the toast. + + "A fair, fair wind to you and yours, + No matter the course you sail!" + +Ere they had set their glasses down, Harty was making for the door. Old +Perrault entreated. "Why, Mister Harty!" and Baldwin whispered, "What's +your hurry, Bud?" + +"I've got to go," he said to Perrault; to Baldwin he whispered, +"Somebody's coming in--I heard her voice." + +"Oh, varry well, if you will not stay," sighed old Perrault. "But hark! +Attend one moment, gentlemen. She comes." He lowered his voice. "She +goes to-night to the church. She has, you understand, gentlemen, fears. +And also--" he leaned over and whispered into Baldwin's ear. + +"No!" + +"Truly." + +Baldwin took off his hat and clasped the storekeeper's hand. "God keep +her." + +"Sh-h--She is here." + +She stood in the doorway. It was Harty's first chance in months to look +her fairly in the face. She smiled on Baldwin, bowed, but without +smiling to Harty, kissed her father, whispered a word in his ear, and +turned to go. Baldwin jumped forward. "Mrs. Bowen, hadn't me and Mister +Harty better see you to the church--might be a drunken loafer or two on +the street--and a blowy night." + +"I shall be most honored, Captain." + +They went out; but from them all not a word, until they were at the +church door, and here it was she who spoke. "Captain Baldwin, is it not +a dangerous night?" + +"Meaning at sea, Mrs. Bowen?" + +"At sea--on the light-ship." + +"Why, bless you, no. Old 67, she's been out on that spot--Lord knows how +long she's been out there. She's sort of a part of the furniture out +there now. Why, the very fishes that come to feed on South Shoal, Mrs. +Bowen--they'd think they was on the wrong bank if they couldn't look up +and see the barnacled bottom of old 67 over 'em. Rough? Lord, yes, +plenty rough out there t'night, but not dangerous. Lord, no, Mrs. Bowen, +not dangerous. All she's got to do is to hang on to her moorin's." + +"You are a kind-hearted man, Mr. Baldwin, and a good friend. My husband, +he thinks the world of you. I go in now, to pray for him, to bring him +home to us. Good-night, and a happy Christmas to you." She hesitated, +"And to you, Mr. Harty, a happy Christmas also." + +Harty did not close the door behind her until he had seen her kneel at +the altar-rail. Out in the street again, he turned abruptly to his chum. +"Look here, Baldy, what was it her father whispered to you--just before +she came into the backroom?" + +"What? Why-y--I--Well, no harm telling it, I reckon, though I don't know +why he didn't tell you, too, Bud--she's goin'--" Baldwin lowered his +voice--"she's goin' to have a baby, and--what's it?" + +"Nothing." + +"Oh-h! And her old father, you'll be hearin' no more from him about +goin' back to Paris to die. Gee, but this wind is fierce, ain't it? Say, +Bud, but d'y' b'lieve that some people, especially women, that they know +without bein' told when people they think a lot of is in danger?" + +"I don't know. Do you?" + +"M-m--sometimes I think there's something in it. Did you notice the look +in her eyes to-night? But--" the red lamp of the Port Light saloon +loomed brightly ahead--"it's a pretty cold night--a toothful o' +something, what d'y' say?" + +"Nope." + +"Then where you bound?" + +"I don't know--take a walk, I guess." + +"Well, you sure picked a fine night for a walk. Better lash your ears to +your head, if you're heading for the beach-side. Be back this way +soon?" + +"I don't know." + +"You don't know? What's got into you to-night, Bud?" Baldwin stared at +his chum. He stepped nearer and laid a hand on Harty's arm. "You ain't +sick, Bud?" + +"God, no! I'm all right. I'll take a walk and come back." + +"All right, but hurry back, won't you?" + + +IV + +The Port Light saloon was doing a fine business. The swinging doors +between the backroom and the bar were swinging all the time--and at the +various tables a score of young men and a dozen or so of young women, +and one stout fellow at the piano, were roaring dull care away. + +The piano occupied one corner of an alcove off the large backroom. In +the other corner of the alcove Baldwin and a few friends were sitting +into a quiet little game. Things had been breaking well for the sailor, +and it promised to be a blissful night, for when luck came his way in a +poker game, Baldwin could fall into a trance, if nobody disturbed him. + +It was Hatty who came bursting through the swinging doors to disturb +him. One peek at his chum's face and "O Lord!" murmured Baldwin, "still +on it." Aloud he added, "Sit in, Bud," and Harty sat in, after first +ordering a round of drinks. + +Baldwin lifted his drink. "Fell off that water-wagon kind o' sudden, +didn't you, Bud," but without even a curious glance emptied his glass. + +Four or five hands were played, and, luck still running the sailor's +way, he was smiling like a moonlit sea, when, "Say, Baldy," shook him +out of his revery. + +"Lord, Bud! What?" + +"A hell of a fine bunch we are." + +"Fine how?" + +"To be spending our Christmas here." + +"Why, where else would we be?" + +"Where but home?" + +Baldwin smiled broadly. "Say, Bud, I don't see you logging any +record-breaking runs for home. + +"Blast it!--I've got no home." + +"Well, who has?" + +"But--" Harty took the spare pack which he had been riffling and slammed +it down on the table--"there's men who've got homes--good homes--who're +going to their death to sea to-night." + +"What's the matter, Bud? Sit down. Sure there are. They're there every +night, goin' to their death somewhere out to sea, but how c'n we help +it?" + +"We _can_ help it." Harty stood up "Fine men we are, all of us." + + Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-tump-ti-- + Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-tump-ti-- + +came from the piano. + +Harty whirled around. "And as for _you_!" He picked up the spare pack +and hurled them at the fat piano-player. "Blast you! Yes, _you_--I said +_you_, didn't I--shut up! It's petticoats you ought to be wearing." + +The piano-player's lower lip fell away from his teeth. His wall eyes +opened abnormally. "Why, what did I do to you?" he gasped. + +"Nothing. You couldn't do anything to anybody. You haven't the gimp. +Shut up." + +Harty faced Baldwin. "The hell we can't help it. The light-ship to South +Shoal could be going to her death with all hands, and we're sitting here +and guzzling rum." + +Baldwin was holding his cards up in front of his eyes. He riffled the +close-set edges with a dexterous thumb, took another squint, pursed his +lips, said softly--"M-m--yes, I'm in," dropped two white chips onto the +little pile in the centre, then, looking up, laughed tolerantly at +Harty. + +"Rum? Mine's rye, Bud, when there's any choice, but what's wrong with +you to-night? Sit down. Maybe you've got it right, Bud, but what's the +use of gettin' highsterics over it? Maybe some of us could be a lot +better than we are, but I don't know's any of us ever pretended to be +anything great, did we?" + +"Great? I didn't say anything about _great_ men. We're not half men, +Baldy--the light-ship is going with all hands." + +"One card," Baldwin scaled his discard to the table and stuck the new +card in with his others before he answered. His voice was now less +patient. "Say, Bud, maybe we're not half men, but don't rub it +in--don't. If anything's wrong with the light-ship, how'd you know?" + +"I know." + +"But how?" + +"Wireless." + +"Wireless?" Baldwin was peering at his cards. Suddenly he looked up. +"Hah--wireless? Eheu-u--" he whistled softly, gently laid his cards +face-down on the table. "You got word, Bud?" He half-turned to the man +on his right. "Do I see you, Bo, did you say?" He picked up his cards. +"Sure I'll see you--and two more red lozenges to come along. But what +can we do about it, Bud?" + +"There's the _Whist_, Baldy." + +"What, her? Send her to sea to-night? We couldn't if we wanted. She only +goes out under orders from the commandant, remember. And the commandant, +he's on leave, visitin' his married daughter somewhere over Christmas." + +"And a G.C.M., too, wouldn't it, Baldwin?" put in the man called Bo, +"without orders." + +Harty whirled on Bo. "Who the hell gave you a rating to butt in on this? +Orders? To hell with their orders, and to hell with their general +court-martials. Orders, Baldy, when it's lives to be saved? Christ, +Baldy, you haven't forgot, have you? Bowen's on her. Bowen, man, and +remember she's going to--" + +Baldwin held up one wide-spread hand palm out. "That's enough, Buddy. +You've said enough. I don't know what the poor old _Whist_ will do once +she finds herself away from the lee of the breakwater t'night, Bud, but +we'll go, and if they're there and we stay afloat, we'll get 'em. And +Bo, I could play this hand all night, but two round blue moons to see +what you got. Hah? King full, eh? The nerve of you! What did y' think I +was only taking one card f'r? There, feast your eyes on that fat black +collection, will yuh? In a row? Sure in a row. Look at 'em--a three-toed +black regiment of 'em. And these other little round red, white, and blue +boys, cash 'em in, will yuh, Bo? And put the money in an envelope for +me?" + +"And for me too." Harty had drawn out a roll of bills and laid them on +the table. "I don't know how much is there--count it, you. And if I +don't come 'round again, here's an address--South Boston, yes--where you +can send it. A little nephew of mine, a fine fat little devil who thinks +his uncle's the greatest man in the world. The poor kid, of course, +don't know any different. So long, fellows. All ready, Baldy?" + +"All ready, Bud--head away." + +Through the streets, past the Navy Yard gate and through the Navy Yard +the two friends tramped silently. + +"Won't you need more than the three of us to handle that tug?" asked +Harty. + +"Three's plenty, Bud. You and me an' old Pete, we can make out. What's +the use of risking any more, though if we did need 'em, we'd get 'em. +We'd only have to beat up the water-front, and volunteers! They'd come +a-running, Bud, from every joint and dance-hall, enough to run a +battleship--in no time, yes, sir. Why, Bud, even that squash-head of a +piano-player would 'a' come if we'd ast him." + +"H-m-m--you surely think well of people, Baldy." + +"No more strain than to think bad of 'em. But what'd be the use? Us two +an' old Pete, who'll be sleepin' aboard, c'n run her, Bud." + +And they had put out in the _Whist_, and now down in the combined engine +and fire-room of her were Harty and old Pete toiling to keep steam up. A +notorious little craft, the _Whist_, one of those legacies which +sometimes fall to the Service; the department always going to fix her +up, and always putting it off until the next appropriation. Her old +boilers leaked, and in a sea-way her old seams gaped, and what between +keeping steam up and her bilge pumped out, Harty and Pete could hardly +find time to brace their feet whenever she attempted, as she did about +every fifteen seconds, to heave them across the floor. + +To the wheel of the _Whist_ was Baldwin, and as with every dive of the +plunging _Whist_ the spray scattered high above her bows, so through the +open windows of the pilot-house came barrels of it, and not a spoonful +that didn't go to his drenching. + +"But it's a good thing to get good and wet at first," reflected Baldwin, +"then you won't be worryin' any more about it." It was not only wet, but +cold. But naturally, too, when you're a-wrecking to sea of a cold +winter's night you just got to expect a few little discomforts. + +The ancient _Whist_ rolled down, down, down, and jumped up, up, up; but +mostly she went down, and while she was down the swooping seas piled +over her. However, all right so far; an hour now since she had left the +breakwater, and there she was still afloat. No telling always about +those wheezy little wrecks of tugs. Baldwin looked out and back toward +her stern, almost with pride. Going since the Civil War, she'd been, and +still afloat. Must have been some little original virtues in her planks +that pleased old Neptune, and so he passed her up. Maybe she'd never +been caught in the open seas on a night like this; well, maybe not, but +you betcher she wasn't afraid of it. + +Straight out from the breakwater Baldwin kept her going. Slow, heavy, +pounding work; and now two hours gone, and no light-ship yet. He swung +her about, a ticklish feat, and paralleled the beach to the north, and +just off the beach, after an hour of northing, he spied the distress +signals--two, three, yes, and four big torches. + +The countless white-plumed riders were charging by, but straight for the +drifting lights, straight down the line of roaring troopers, Baldwin +paraded his little _Whist_; and when he was near enough, "We'll heave +you a line!" he hailed. "And in God's name get it, for there mayn't be a +chance for a second one afore the breakers 'll get you." + +He placed his mouth to the engine-room tube "Ho-o, Buddie. On deck with +your line now." + +"All right, Baldy." Harty turned to his working mate. "So long Pete, see +you later." + +"So long, son, and have a care on that open deck." + +Harty climbed the iron ladder to the deck, shouldered his way through +the wind-pressed door and onto the deck, and started aft. + +It was cold. Under his thin suit of dungaree Harty was rolling in sweat. +The winter wind whipped him like a cat-o'-nine-tails. He crept aft, +coiled his heaving line and waited in the stern for the word. She was +jumping so that to hold his feet on her open, icy deck aft, he was +compelled to hook one hand to the towing bitts. + +"Only time for one try, so don't let nothing go wrong. An' watch out for +any of those big fellows comin' aboard, Bud," came Baldwin's last +warning. + + +V + +On Light-ship 67, drifting broad onto the breakers, all hands were +perched high in her rigging, safe above any stray seas; all but Nelson +and Bowen, who were hanging on to her weather rail forward. + +Bowen was the first to realize what the figure on the after end of the +tug meant to them. "Heave for here!" he shouted, and Nelson, also awake +to the situation, held up one of the torches for a mark. + +Nearer and nearer butted the tug. "Stand by!" they heard the call from +the forward end of her. Looking up, they could see the shadow against +the pilot-house light. "By!" came the echo, and the man astern stepped +on to her open quarter and balanced himself to heave. + +A note in that answering voice caught Bowen's ear. "Say, Nelson, that's +not one of the tug's regular crew!" + +"I don't know. I don't t'ink, but he ban a foolish man," replied +Nelson--"he should lash himself." + +"Stand by with the line!" came again. + +"By!" echoed tensely from astern. + +"Ready!" + +"All ready!" + +"When she lifts! Now--w--" + +From the top of a sea the line came whistling down to the light-ship +rail. "I'll take it," called Bowen, and, loosing his hold of the stay, +he reached out and caught the flying line to his breast. "A good throw," +he muttered, and hauled it in. + +The hawser followed the heaving line, and Nelson and Bowen, with +life-lines about them, bent the stubborn end of it around the windlass. +It was heavy work, even for two men, on the tumbling, slippery deck, +and, that done, they turned, anxiously, to see how the man in the stern +of the tug was making out. He was there, back to, bending the thick +stubborn bight about the towing bitts with slow, heavy motions. They saw +one great sea break over him; and another: but when the seas were past +there he was still working away. + +"Won't he never mak' him fast?" wailed Nelson. + +"Give him time," snapped Bowen. "He's doing well. He's got to do it +right. If his end came loose, where would we be? Give him time." + +Nelson looked significantly shoreward. "Time?" + +"How's she coming, Bud?" they heard then. + +"Bud? And that sounds like his voice, too," muttered Bowen. + +"Wa-atch out!" Even with the roar of it Nelson and Bowen could hear the +warning from the pilot-house to the man in the stern of the tug. A +tremendous sea it was and the little _Whist_ went over--over. Over until +her side-lights were under. There she held for a moment, started to +rise, and then a following sea caught her and overbore her and that time +she rolled low enough to take salt water down her funnel. + +She came back--after a time. Up, up, nobly; but when they next looked +from the light-ship they could see no figure in her stern. Bowen leaned +far over the light-ship's rail. Nothing there, but he called to Nelson +for the torch, and Nelson let it flare out over the water. + +Then Bowen saw him. Almost under the bow of the light-ship he was, and +the big torch was throwing a light like blood on his face. "It is him!" +cried Bowen. + +"Vat iss?" demanded the puzzled Nelson, and then under the light he, +too, saw the face in the tossing waters. + +Bowen, with a life-line under his arms was already over the side. But +his plunge fell short. Nelson heard a sound as of a man's voice +smothering, saw a hand raised and lowered, and then into the tossing +blackness the lone figure was swept. + +Nelson hauled Bowen aboard. When he recovered his first word was, "God, +Nelson, that was Harty!" + +"Harty, wass it? I don't know him, but he was one goot man." + +The big hawser strained and groaned, chocks and bitts crooned their song +of stress, the wind whistled its dirge, while out from the breakers the +_Whist_ hauled her tow. + +To the wheel of the tug Baldwin glanced ahead and behind, pointed her +nose for the breakwater, gave her four bells and the jingle, put his +mouth to the tube, and answered, "Yes, Pete, that's right--'twas Bud +went. And now it's up to you, son. Keep steam on her, and if the hawser +holds and nothing else happens, she oughter stagger home all right." + +Nothing more happened and the _Whist_ staggered home. The morning light +saw her safe to the Navy Yard with the light-ship moored alongside. + +Bowen stepped from the light-ship to the tug. Up in the pilot-house he +found Baldwin. The sailor was staring through a window, staring out to +sea. Bowen waited. + +Baldwin turned inboard at last. "I s'pose you're wonderin' how we knew. +Well, 'twas Bud passed me the word, and more than that, 'twas Bud broke +me out of as promisin' a little game as ever a man sat into. Chips? +Enough to fill my service cap afore me, and not all white chips either. +And he comes along and just the same as yanks me up by the collar an' +says, 'You got to go!' and I had to. And of course where I go Pete +goes." + +"And a game thing, Baldwin." + +"Game hell. It's our trade--Pete's and mine. But it wasn't Bud's. But he +was bound to go. And when he went under, when I woke up to it he was +gone, I looked out. The sea was still rolling up to the clouds. I sticks +my head out the window to cool it, and to myself I says: If there was +only somebody else in this watch so I could take five minutes off +somewhere and lie down and cry. That's the way I felt about it. Yes, +sir, if it wasn't for you fellows behind and good old Pete below, I +believe I'd let everything go. Yes, sir, government property or no, I +believe I'd a let the old _Whist_ roll up on the beach and been glad to +roll up with her. And Bud--" Baldwin came suddenly to a full stop and +stared out to sea. After a time he turned and asked: "Did you see him +when he went?" + +"I did. And that time I grabbed for him and missed and he went by me, he +half-turned and looked at me, and I thought he said, 'I never meant it.' +Just that I heard, when the sea washed over him, and when he came up +again he must've thought that I didn't understand, and he waved one arm. +It was like he was saying 'Good-by!'--the way he did it. Yes, he was all +right--Harty." + +"You betcher he was all right. An' more than all right. As for that, +it's a damn poor specimen' that ain't all right when it comes to a +show-down. I've known Bud--I can't remember when I didn't know Bud +Harty. And, Bowen, he was a better man than you or me. Bud always let +you see the worst of himself, but you had to guess at the best of him. +Bud, he sure could hate a man--but, son, he could like you a lot better +than ever he hated you." + +The two men sat and looked out to sea in silence. At last Baldwin, with +a heavy sigh? stood up, and, reaching into a locker, brought forth a +bottle and two glasses. "I s'pose we oughter try to forget it for +awhile. This stuff here, it's against regulations havin' it aboard, but +lots of things against regulations never hurt anybody. It was against +regulations our takin' out the _Whist_ last night. And when the +commandant's back from leave I reckon I'll get mine. For you"--he laid a +forefinger against the big rating badge on his coat sleeve--"that I've +been shipmates with for fifteen years--off and on--I reckon will be +detached. But I've been disrated before and we'll let that pass. But you +an' me and Bud, we ain't been the best of friends we used to be +since--well, you know when, but you're goin' to drink for him now the +toast he wouldn't drink last night, but the toast that if he was here I +know he'd drink now, for it's a sure thing that when he went into the +breakers he didn't go out of hate. So you drink for Bud, and I'll drink +for myself. Here's to you and yours, Bowen, your wife and the baby +that's comin'--" + +"And that baby--if it's a boy, Baldwin, I'll name after him." + +"Will you? God, but he'll like that--Bud'll sure like that. And now, +here you go-- + + "May the wind be always fair for you + Whatever the course you sail! + +"An' you an' me and all of us we'll be like we used to be, an' Bud'll +like it, I know. An' now one to Bud himself. I know 'twill please him to +see us doin' it. Here's to Buddie, Bowen. Is it a go?" + +"Let her run!" + +"Run it is, and a gale behind her--Christmas to Bud!" + + + + +Captain Blaise + + +Two years now since Mr. Villard had come home, and not a soul on the +plantation but believed that at last the new master had given up his +mysterious voyages and was home to stay. But one day I had business in +Savannah, and while there, hearing that the bark _Nereid_ was in from +the West African coast, I strolled down to the river front; and +presently I was approached and addressed by the master of the _Nereid_, +a seaman-like and rather shrewd-looking man who had a message for Mr. +Villard, he said--from the West Coast. + +"I am charged to ask him to pass the word to Captain Blaise," said the +_Nereid's_ master, "that an old friend of his lies low of fever into +Momba. Captain Blaise would know who. We were putting out of Momba +lagoon and I was standing by the rail, when a nigger came paddling up +and whispered it. Like a breath of night air it was. 'Tell Master +Captain that Ubbo bring the word,' said the nigger, and like another +breath of wind he passed on. No more than that. A short, very stout, and +very black nigger. And I was to pass the word to Mr. Villard, a +gentleman of estate near Savannah, Georgia, and if you, sir, will attend +to that, my part's done." + +After my dinner in town was through with, I rode hard; but it was late +night by the time I reached the manor-house. I found him sitting out +under the moon, smoking a cheroot as usual, and he continued to smoke +immovably for some minutes after I had delivered the message; but by and +by he stood up and took to pacing the veranda, and presently, after his +fashion, to speak his thoughts aloud. + +"A hundred thousand acres and a thousand slaves, good, bad, and +indifferent--surely a man does owe a little something to his manorial +duties. At least, so all my highly respectable and well-established +neighbors tell me. What do you say, Guy?" + +"I never gave much thought to the matter, sir." + +"No? Well, doubtless you will--some day. But d'y' remember Kingston +Harbor, where the black boys dive through the green waters for the +silver sixpenny pieces, and Kingston port, where the white roads and the +white walls throw back the tropic sun so that it seems twice as hot as +it really is--Kingston, Guy--in Jamaica, where the sun sets like a +blood-orange salad in a purple dish? D'y' remember, Guy, and the day we +were lying into Kingston in the _Bess_ and the word came that my uncle +was dead? Aye, you do; but don't you remember how he used to rail +against me? To be sure--you were too young. And yet a good old uncle, +who gave me never a mild word in his life but left me his all at death." + +"And why shouldn't he, sir?" + +"Why not? Aye, that is so. Why not? And yet he could have left it to +anybody--to you, say." + +"Why to me? Who am I?" + +"What? Who are you?" He ceased his pacing. "That is so, Guy--who are +you? You with the strange, quick blood writ so plain in your countenance +that there--" + +"Isn't it good blood, sir?" + +"Aye, Guy, be sure it is good blood. But often have I thought how he +would have stormed if--" He gazed curiously at me. + +"If--" + +"Aye, if--but no matter." He resumed his nervous pacing back and forth, +back and forth, hands in pockets, head up, chin out, and face turned +always toward the river, past the moss-hung cypress trees to the yellow +Savannah flowing swiftly beyond. The salt tide-water made as far as +Villard Landing, and when it was in full flood, as now, it brought the +smell of the sea strongly with it. + +"No matter that now, Guy. A good old soul, my uncle, d'y' see; but the +blood was everything to him. And he put it in the bond and I am bound by +it: that only the lawful issue, a son of the house, shall inherit. 'I'll +have no strange derelict child inherit my estate.' His own words. So +this fair estate, lacking lawful issue of my body or my old uncle's +son--and he is dead--it goes out of the family. Oh, a stormy, +intolerant, but well-meaning old uncle, who would have none of his +property left to--Oh, but not that, Guy--no, no, lad." He laid a +restraining hand on my shoulder. "No, no, lad, you must not take that to +yourself; for you are, no fear, honest born." + +"I've waited long for you to tell me even that. Won't you tell me more, +sir?" + +"Enough for now. But whatever my uncle thought or wished, here, Guy, is +an estate to your hand to enjoy. What d'y' say, eh, to the life of a +Southern gentleman on his plantation? A hundred thousand acres, a +thousand slaves, a stable of the horses you love so, upland and river +bottom to hunt, dancing, riding, balls, the city in winter. Is not that +something better than the hard, uncertain sea, Guy?" + +He had paused for my answer, but I made none. He was standing +motionless, except for the backward toss of his head and the deep +inhalation, three or four times, of the briny air from the flooding +river. There was disappointment in his voice when he took up the talk +again. + +"Oh, Guy, between us two what a difference! I was born ashore, you at +sea, and yet + + "'It's you for the back of a charging barb, + And me for the deck of a heaving brig!'" + +In a lower voice he repeated the couplet, and was plainly vastly pleased +with it. "Faith, and I wonder is that my own, or something I read +somewhere. Something of the lilt of a Scotch strathspey to 't, shouldn't +you say? You know more of such things. What d'y' say--shall I claim that +for my own, Guy?" + +"You do, sir, and it's not Homer, nor Dante, nor Keats who will rise up +to accuse you of plagiarism." + +"Bah! You would no more allow me the merit of a poetic vein than--" + +"Poetry, sir?" + +"Poetry--why not?" and suddenly bending sidewise and forward, he essayed +to obtain a fuller view of my face. And it is true that I was thinking +of anything but poetry. + +His face darkened as he gazed. "A hundred estates and plantations were +nothing to me against--" he burst out passionately, but no further than +that. He checked himself and went inside, and with no good-night going. + +In the morning he was gone. I waited--one, two, three days, and then I +went also--to Savannah, where I saw the _Bess_, but so altered that it +needed a lifetime's intimacy to hail her in the stream. Her spars had +been sent down and her name was now the _Triton_, and to her bow and +stern was clamped the false work which left her with no more outward +grace than any clumsy coaster; and by these signs I knew that Mr. +Villard of Villard Manor would once more disappear and that Captain +Blaise would soon again be sailing the _Dancing Bess_ overseas. + +Captain Blaise had not yet come aboard; but whatever ship he sailed the +full run of that ship was mine, and I went into his cabin to wait for +him. + +It was after dark when he came over the side. It was always after dark +when he boarded the _Bess_ in home ports. His words were colder than his +expression when he addressed me. "And where are you bound?" + +"I don't know yet, sir." + +"And why not?" + +"You have not yet told me, sir, where you are going." + +"Suppose it should be the West Coast and the old trade?" + +"I'm sorry, sir, but even so I go." + +"And leave all that good life you love so at the Manor?" + +On his face was still the stern look. I could not stand it longer and I +stepped closer to him. "You have not turned against me, sir?" + +He softened at once. "Guy, Guy, don't mind me. I meant well. I thought +you might prefer the shore to living on the sea." + +"I do, sir, but when you are at sea it's at sea I'd rather be too, sir." + +"Ah-h--" and when he looked at me like that it mattered not about his +law-breaking--he was the bravest, finest man that ever sailed the +trades. "Guy, my boy, if you'll have it so, why come along. And once +more we'll cruise together; but you won't judge your commander too +harshly, will you, Guy?" + +We took the ebb down the river. Our papers read for a West India trading +voyage, but we lingered not among the West Indies. Four weeks later we +raised the Cape Verdes, and an islet rose like a castle from out of the +mists. Abreast of a pebbled beach we came to anchor and waited. + + +II + +A boat scraped alongside, and the agent Rimmle came aboard. He came out +to have a chat for old time's sake; and yet not so old either, he +corrected, and would Captain Blaise come ashore and have a drink or two +of good liquor? And Captain Blaise replied that he carried as good +liquor in his locker as ever graced any sideboard ashore. And they +dropped into the cabin, where I happened to be, and had a glass of wine +and a word or two, and another glass and a few more words; and at last +Rimmle put the question: Would Captain Blaise run one more draft? + +Long ago, Captain Blaise promised me that there was to be no more +slave-running, and as he never lied to me, I wondered now why he paused +and pondered as if debating with himself. At last he looked up. "It +doesn't pay any more, Rimmle." + +"Well, in these days," observed Rimmle, "I don't blame you, with the +bull-dogs of men-o'-war making it so hot." + +We all had to smile at that, and Rimmle, seeing that Captain Blaise was +not to be shamed into it, went on. "But suppose there was larger +head-money than ever was paid before, Captain? And if half the +head-money and the crew's pay were laid down in advance? For it is hard, +as you have often said, Captain, that anything should happen to brave +and willing men on such a cruise and they have neither profit nor safety +of it." It was the old talk all over again, the agent urging him once +more to take to slave-running, except that in other days Captain Blaise +had displayed less patience. + +The wineglasses had already been filled too frequently for me, and, +pleading business, I had spread out a coast chart on the other end of +the cabin table and was studying it, this by way of removing myself from +a conversation which I saw was not to end with trading or slave-running. + +This Rimmle was one of those who held Captain Blaise for a sort of idol. +I had seen dozens of the kind before. Great hours for them when they +could sit in with the famous Captain Blaise, and so now, with the agent +bound to talk of the West Coast trade, lawful and otherwise, Captain +Blaise was making but slow headway. + +I was thinking of stepping up on deck to stretch my legs, when the +conversation took a sudden shift. "Captain"--Rimmle put the question +hesitatingly--"I thought I had seen the last of you. May I ask what +lured you back?" + +Captain Blaise had decanted another bottle and was viewing the +rich-colored bubbles as he held the carafe up against the light. Such +little things afforded him keen pleasure. He set the carafe +down--softly--only to ask by way of reply: "Rimmle, what is it always +brings men back?" + +Rimmle laid his head to one side and nodded shrewdly. "As far as my +experience goes, Captain, it is one of three things." + +"And which of the three is my failing?" Captain Blaise was absently +filling their glasses. + +"M-m--It cannot be money--you never cared for that. You who have made +fortunes and spent them as fast as you made them--no, it cannot be +money. And then your newly acquired property in the States--" + +"_My_ newly acquired--What of that?" + +"Why, the rumor is out that you fell heir to a great estate in the +States--on the banks of the Mississippi or the Ohio, or some outlandish +name of a river in the States." + +"Oh, a rumor! Go on." + +"And as for the drink--it must be a great occasion, indeed, Captain, +when you take more than is good for a man. And so--" + +"We can never take too much drink in good company, Rimmle. And so drink +up--here's health! And so you think it must be--" He smiled faintly at +the agent. "And yet who should know better than you that all the gold I +ever gave for a woman's favor would not suffice to keep the poorest of +them in cambric handkerchiefs." + +"As to that"--the agent pursed up his full moist lips--"it is true; the +kind who looked for money were never your kind. And yet that kind +sometimes cost men a hundred times more in the end." + +Captain Blaise bent deferentially toward the agent. "You think that, +Rimmle--truly?" + +Rimmle bowed wisely. + +Captain Blaise continued to regard him in the most friendly way, and yet +with an air of doubt, as if debating how far to discuss matters of this +kind with him. And then, leaning yet further forward and speaking +rapidly, energetically: "And agreeing that it is so, who is it that ever +regrets the price? D'y' think that I, even though I be what I be, that +I--Why, Rimmle, even you who live to amass money"--Rimmle flushed--"even +you have had your days when--To be sure you have had." Rimmle beamed. +"And so, Rimmle, you can believe possibly that Captain Blaise may yet +have his immortal hour, and cherish the hope none the less dearly in his +heart because his head, from out the experience of bitter years, tells +him that it can never be. And it may be that I go this time for neither +money nor drink, nor anything else in which traders ashore or aship +commonly bargain. But, hah, hah!"--he grinned suddenly, sardonically, at +the agent. "Think of us, Rimmle, sitting in the cabin of a West Coast +slaver and smuggler discoursing in this fashion--two gallant gentlemen +who trade in human misery." + +Ten years since Captain Blaise had done any slave-running, and Rimmle, +who knew that, was slave-running still, and so he did not quite know how +to take this outburst. + +Neither did I. Where Captain Blaise was sincere and where talking for +effect I could not have said; but surely he was moulding Rimmle like +jelly; and now looking out from under his eyebrow at Rimmle, but his +lips curved in a smile, he selected a cheroot and lit it, and lit +another for Rimmle, who now smiled too. And cheroot followed cheroot, +and story story, and drink drink, and the agent gurgled with joy of the +intimacy. "What adventures you have had, Captain, and"--he blew a cloud +to the cabin roof--"what stories!" + +"Adventures? Stories?" Captain Blaise shrugged his shoulders. "Well +enough, Rimmle, in their way. 'Tis true I can tell of blockades evaded +and corvettes slipped, of customs officers bedevilled, of tricks on +slow-tacking junks, and of dancing with creoles under the moon. But what +is that? The heedless, unplanned adventuring of an irresponsible +American captain. Now you, if you cared to talk, Rimmle, you, I warrant, +could tell of big things, things which concern great people--of +admirals and governors and what not; for you, it is well known, Rimmle, +have your own bureau of information." + +Rimmle chuckled. "It is true"--and then he paused. Captain Blaise +refilled their glasses. In courtly imitation of the Captain, Rimmle +raised his and they drank. + +Captain Blaise filled them up again. "Men like myself, Rimmle, are but +pawns in this trading game. It is the people on the inside, the Governor +of Momba and gentlemen like you, who direct the play." + +Rimmle smacked his lips. "M-m--To be sure, the Governor of Momba--" + +There was a half-hour of anecdotes of the Governor of Momba and his son +before Cunningham's name was even mentioned; and when the question of +him was slipped, so casually was it slipped that I, with senses +astretch, did not realize that this must be the sick man at Momba--not +until the next question was put. + +"But there must have been something else, Rimmle, between the Governor +and Cunningham?" + +Now, had they been drinking ordinary wine or heavy ale, Rimmle might +have held his own. But this was a rare vintage, a delicate bouquet meant +for a finer breed than Rimmle. His tongue was still limber but his wits +were fled. He was vain to display to the famous Captain Blaise his +knowledge of secret affairs. "Yes, it is true, Captain, there was more +than showed on the surface there. And that insult to Cunningham was no +accident. No,"--he winked,--"not at all. He had insulted and shot men +before, but he never knew that Cunningham was a professional duellist +himself. None of us in Momba knew. Did you, Captain?" + +"He was not." Captain Blaise banged his hand on the table. "He killed +three men, yes; but bad men, and killed them in fair combat." + +"Hm-m. A man to let alone that; but nothing of that was known--not then. +However, he took the Governor's professional duellist out behind a row +of palms one sunny morning and shot him--a beautiful bit of work. It was +the vastest surprise--a shock. But a duel, lawful possibly in your +country is not so in ours, Captain, and--" + +"And is his daughter with him?" + +"When she is not at the Governor's house--yes." + +"What! Why there?" + +"I don't know, unless it is the only house in that country where a young +lady of her position--and then her beauty--" + +"Under that old satrap's roof? But here, Rimmle, what is the Governor +going to do with Cunningham?" + +"Well, Captain, if it should happen that she will marry the Governor's +son, why Cunningham might be allowed--you know how, Captain, ho! +ho!--surely, to escape. Especially as nobody seems to mourn the man he +shot. But when she seemed slow to fall in with their wishes, and as +Cunningham had converted all his property into gold and diamonds and +shipped them or hid them--though no search has unearthed +them--preparatory to shooting the Governor's friend, why they grew +suspicious and threatened to push matters. Cunningham was nominally +under arrest always. And then he fell sick. How sick? Hard to say. But +should he die, or be punished--imprisoned, say--for the duel, consider +it. She is a beautiful girl, true, but human, and in time in that +lonesome country where white gentlemen of social position are so +scarce--! And, after all--the Governor of Momba's son and--" + +"Rimmle"--Captain Blaise had stood up to look through an air port--"it's +a fair wind for me. Shall I put you ashore?" + +"Ashore? Why, yes, yes! Bless me, I've had quite a stay, haven't I? But +if you care to try again, Captain, my friend Hassan is into Momba. He +will be aboard, no fear. If you do business with him, Captain, why, draw +on me, and it's money in my pocket." + +"If I do business of that kind this cruise, Rimmle, I promise you I'll +do it with Hassan." + +"Thank you, Captain. Speedy voyage to you, and don't forget Hassan. +Good-by, sir, to you." + +Within the hour we sailed for Momba. + + +III + +A squadron of corvettes and sloops o' war put their glasses on us lazily +as we neared Momba; but with our Dutch bow and stern, our stumpy spars, +no self-respecting war-ship was bothering the _Triton_. They let us pass +without so much as a hail. + +Captain Blaise planned to cross Momba Bar that night, all the more +surely to cross because the watchers ashore, seeing us hang on and off +in the late afternoon, would probably report that we were waiting for +morning. So we hauled her to in the dusk where, were it light, we would +have seen, under its three fathom of water, Momba Bar lying white and +smooth and quiet as a sanded deck as we passed on. With the wind coming +low and light from the land that was; but were it a high wind and from +the sea, there would be no going over that bar at night or any other +time. + +We slipped silently up the inside, the northerly passage, to the lagoon, +and crept up the lagoon just as silently, but even as we were mooring +the _Bess_ in a nook at the head of the lagoon, a tall Arab was +alongside. With him Captain Blaise and I went ashore in the ship's +long-boat, and to avoid suspicion we took no arms. An hour of camp-fires +and shadows under the trees we wasted then with this sharp trader +Hassan. No printed calicoes, or brass rings, or looking-glasses for him, +nor rum, he being a true believer. Nothing of that; but of gold paid +into hand, and plenty of it there must be. And Captain Blaise, to allay +suspicion, discussed matters hotly. Finally he agreed to the Arab's +terms, and Hassan salaamed, and out under the open sky we went again. + +"A proper villain, Guy, is that fellow. Did you ever see so wonderfully +cunning a smile? And in the morning I am to give him a draft on Rimmle! +Sometimes I think there must be something infantile about me, strangers +do pick me up for such an innocent at times. But in the morning, my +shrewd Hassan--" + +Naked feet padded beside us. "O Marster Carpt'n, Marster Carpt'n, suh--" + +"You, Ubbo!" + +"Yes, suh, Marster Carpt'n." It was a short, very stout, and very black +negro who stood at attention before Captain Blaise. + +"Where's your master?" + +"Waitin', Carpt'n, suh. He sick, suh, but not so he die, he say, suh." + +"And Miss Shiela?" + +"Missy Shiela at de Governor's, suh. An' de missy know you come too, +suh. I been watchin', suh, for long time. I see de ship, suh, an' I know +you come over de bar, suh, to-night. An' I tell de marster, suh. An' +marster waitin', an' Missy Shiela waitin', Marster Carpt'n, to take um +away--to take um home, suh. He very sick, suh." + +"After us, Ubbo." + +We raced to where was the long-boat, screened under a bank. From her +crew we took four good men and followed Ubbo. + +The roof of a low building loomed above the jungle growth. Ubbo uttered +a warning sound. We could hear the regular tread and presently a form +showed around the corner of the house. It was a negro in uniform with a +musket held carelessly over his shoulder. + +Captain Blaise whispered to his men: "When he comes around again get +him. No noise. Choke him first." The four sailors leaped together when +next he appeared. In an instant almost it was done. They laid him on the +ground, threw his musket into the brush, and we entered the building. + +On a cot beside an open window, with a reading-lamp at his head, lay a +tall man. + +"Still alive, Gad," called Captain Blaise cheerily. + +"Still alive, Blaise, and I reckon you did a neat job on that nigger +guard, for all I heard was a little gurgling. Yes, still alive. Still +alive, Blaise, thanks to Shiela's discrimination in the selection of the +Governor's nourishing cordials, and thanks no less to my boy Ubbo's +sleepless habits. But, old friend, you're none too soon. And don't waste +any time in getting Shiela. She is still at the Governor's. I bade her +stay there so they would not suspect. She has my sabre and duelling +pistols with her, by the way. And she'll bear a hand with them, if need +be. But who is this? Oh, this is Guy? I'm glad to know you, Guy." + +A wreck of a tall, slender, handsome man, such a man he may have been in +his prime as was Captain Blaise, but older. A sporting, reckless sort he +may have been, but a man of manner and blood. Two of the crew bore him +out, though one would have sufficed. "Ubbo will show you where the +strong-box is, Blaise," he called on being borne off; and Ubbo led us +through the thick jungle to where, under a rock over which a little +water-fall played, a massive iron chest was buried. It took two stout +men of the crew to handle it. + +We saw Mr. Cunningham and the strong-box safely to the long-boat and +then, with Ubbo, took station behind a hedge which bordered the +Governor's grounds. There was much going on there--music and people +strolling on the lawn. Captain Blaise pointed out the Governor to me, +and his son, and bade me notice also fifteen or twenty barefooted but +armed and uniformed negroes clustered between two rows of palms on the +farther side of the lawn. + +"We'll wait here, with the hedge to protect us," said Captain Blaise, +and motioned to Ubbo. "Tell Miss Shiela that all's ready." + +The negro slipped away. A short minute or so and Captain Blaise, who had +been peering like a man on watch on a bad night, gripped me nervously. +"Look, there she is!" + +I looked. Never again would I have to be told to look. She was framed in +a low window off the veranda. The Governor's son was now close behind +her. Ubbo was standing on the lawn over near the musicians. We crept +nearer. Turning, as if accidentally, she saw him and called to him. "How +is your master, Ubbo, to-night?" + +"Marster tell me to say he more happy to-night, Missy." + +"Told you to say, Ubbo?" + +"Yes, Missy, marster tell me to say." + +"That's the signal, that sentence," whispered Captain Blaise. + +"That's good. You can go, Ubbo." She smiled and chatted with the +Governor's son then. + +"She can't have interpreted the message aright," I panted. + +"Because she did not leap into the air? Trust her--she's Gadsden +Cunningham's, her own father's daughter." + +In a few minutes she turned from the Governor's son to his father, from +him to her ladyship, and from her without haste to some less +distinguished member, and then in the most casual way in the world she +strolled inside and from our sight. + +Hardly a minute later the signal came: a firefly's flash five times +together and three times repeated from the darkened upper story. + +Ubbo was with us when the signal came. "Marster Carpt'n," he whispered, +and handed him a sabre and a pair of duelling pistols. "Missy send +um--an' dey loaded, both um, suh." + +Captain Blaise, taking the sabre and passing me the pistols, ordered +Ubbo to show the way. + +We skirted the grounds and entered by a rear gate a garden where were +all sorts of low-growing trees and high-growing shrubs to screen us as +we drew near the rear veranda. I saw the white gown with the dark blue +sash shining out from the shrubbery, and then the white and blue drew +back. I would have leaped out on the path to follow, but a restraining +hand was on my arm. "Wait, wait!" warned Captain Blaise. + +It was the Governor and his son hurrying around the corner of the +veranda. "I do not believe it," the Governor was saying. "I cannot +credit it. That could not have been his ship which was reported still +off the bar at dark--a clumsy galliot of a craft she was described; and +besides, he would not dare, a whole squadron cruising within an hour's +sail." + +"But he is gone, and we found the guard was overpowered. He does not +even know how it happened, and his ship is even now moored in the +lagoon, and he himself was with Hassan less than an hour ago. Hassan +will say no more until he gets his advance money in the morning. But if +we move now, he is caught like a rat in a trap. Why not send word to the +squadron? The wind is from the sea again and increasing, and he cannot +now recross the bar. If we could get hold of Cunningham's nigger, he'll +know something. Perhaps we can make him tell. I've sent Charlotte to +watch her." He ran to the corner of the veranda. "O Ubbo! Where in the +devil is he? O Ubbo! Only a few minutes ago he was talking to her out +front. Ubbo! O Ubbo!" + +A mulatto girl came hurrying from within the house. "The American missy, +I cannot find her. She not in her room, suh." + +"What!" The fat old potentate almost jumped into the air. + +But the son kept his head. "Not in her room, Charlotte? And Ubbo gone, +too? Had I not better make the guard ready, sir?" + +"Yes, yes; have the guard fall in." + +They rushed around the corner of the veranda and we leaped into the +lighted path. She, too, stepped out into the light. "Captain Blaise, oh, +Captain Blaise, you don't know what courage you give us." + +"Miss Shiela, you don't know what joy you give us. + +"Still the same--but--but who is this?" she cried out like a surprised +child. And then she seemed to know without being told, for "Oh-h, of +course, this is Guy," she said, and smiled as if she had an hour to +smile in, and gave me both hands. + +"Come," said Captain Blaise abruptly. And down the rear path we hurried, +and, circling the garden, entered the hedged path to the lagoon bank. +All went well until we had to pass the walk which crossed our path from +the front lawn. Here the light of a row of hanging lanterns fell on us. + +And they saw us, the Governor and his son and the assembled guards, and +came charging down across the lawn after us. But only two abreast could +they come down the path. + +"The boat is now but a hundred yards away, Miss Shiela," said Captain +Blaise. "Guy will take you there. Go you, too, Ubbo." I took her hand +and we raced to the bank, where I handed her to a place beside her +father in the boat. + +"And what are you going to do now?" she asked. + +"I? Why, I must go back to help Captain Blaise." + +"Oh, of course. But hurry back. And be careful, won't you?" + +I ran up the path and was soon at his elbow. The column was crowding +down the path, and so soon after coming from the bright light, possibly +they could not see clearly when he swung. However it was, one groaned +and slid down. He cut again and the head of the column stopped dead. +"What's wrong?" came a voice, the Governor's. "What are you stopping +for?" + +"Won't you step this way and find out?" jeered Captain Blaise. + +"What! only one man?" + +The hedge lining the path was waist high, trimmed flat and wide, but I +never suspected what was coming until I saw the flash and felt the ting +of the bullet on my cheek. "Drop!" warned Captain Blaise, but I had no +mind to drop. I held one of Mr. Cunningham's duelling pistols ready for +the next shot. I saw it and fired, to the right of and just above the +flash. I had half seen how he had rested his elbow on the hedge and +carried his head to one side when he fired that first shot. There was +the crash of a body through the hedge. And then a silence. + +"You got him, I think," said Captain Blaise. + +I had been spun half around by the shock of something or other, and now +I was once more facing the path squarely, and a thought of those red and +blue and gold uniforms jammed in there gave me an idea. "Ready, men!" I +called out. "Steady! Aim!--and be sure you fire low." No more than that, +when in the Governor's guard there was the wildest scrambling and +trampling to get to the rear. + +And we left them falling rearward over each other and ran for the +landing. The men were waiting on their oars. We leaped in, and Captain +Blaise took the tiller ropes. "Give way!" he ordered. + +Mr. Cunningham was lying on cushions in the bottom of the boat. I was +still laughing, and he rolled his head, I thought, to look at me. + +"Where did that skunk get you, Guy?" asked Captain Blaise. + +"Why, I didn't know that he got me at all." + +"Feel on your cheek." + +There was blood, not much, trickling down my right cheek. + +"You'd better attend to it." + +"Yes, sir." + +Warm fingers met mine. It was her silk scarf which she was pressing +into my hand. I thrust it in my left breast, then took my own +handkerchief and held it to my cheek. + +I was chuckling to myself as I fancied the Governor's guards tumbling +over each other in their retreat, when Captain Blaise broke in on me. +"Aren't you laughing rather soon? You're not over your troubles yet." + +"Troubles, sir? Troubles?" It was not at all like him, and his voice, +too, was unwontedly harsh. "Troubles?" I almost laughed aloud again. He +did not understand--I had only to lean forward to gaze into her eyes. I +had only to reach out to clasp her hand. Troubles? Well, possibly so, +but I smiled to myself in the dark. + + +IV + +Ere we had fairly boarded the brig they were in chase of us. We could +see lights flitting along the lagoon bank and hear the hallooing of +native runners--the Governor's, we knew. And for every voice we heard +and every light we saw, we knew that hidden back of the trees were a +dozen or a score whom we could not hear or see. And on the black surface +of the lagoon, paddling between us and the bank, as we worked the ship +out, were noiseless men in canoes. We could not see them, but every few +minutes a mysterious cry carried across the silent water, and the cry, +we knew, was the word of our progress from the Governor's canoe-men to +the messengers on the bank. + +The lagoon emptied on the south into the Momba River, which twisted and +turned like so many S's to the sea; on the north was the passage by +which we had come, that which led to the sea by way of the bar. But +there was to be no crossing of the bar for us that night. Ten miles +inland we had smelled that sea-breeze and knew what it meant; but +Captain Blaise, nevertheless, held on with the _Bess_ toward the bar. We +could hear their crews paddling off and shouting their messages of our +progress until they were forced by the breakers to go ashore. Their +parting triumphant shouts was their word of our sure intent to attempt +the passage of the bar. + +When all was quiet from their direction, we put back to the lagoon and +headed for the river passage. But one ship of any size had ventured this +river passage in a generation, and the planking of that one, the brig +_Orion_, for years lay on the bank by way of a warning. "But the _Orion_ +was no _Dancing Bess_," commented Captain Blaise. Surely not, nor was +her master a Captain Blaise. + +The top spars of the _Bess_ had been slung while we were ashore, and by +this time we had also knocked away the ugly and hindering false work on +bow and stern, so that with her lifting foreyards which would have done +for a sloop-of-war, and on her driving fore and aft sails which could +have served the mizzen of a two-thousand-ton bark, the _Bess_ was now +herself again. And she had need to be for the work before her. + +Captain Blaise ordered her foresails brailed in to the mast to windward +and her foreyards braced flat, this that she might sail closer to the +wind. + +Entering the narrow passage, she was held to the edge of the low but +steep bank to windward; so close that where the low-lying reeds grew +outward we could hear them swishing against her sides as we passed on. + +Miss Cunningham, having seen her father comfortably established with +Ubbo in the cabin, had come on deck, and Captain Blaise, busy though he +was, took time to make her welcome. No need for him to boast of his +seamanship--the whole coast could tell her that; but how often had a +beautiful girl a chance to see the proof of it? + +We followed the curve of the river's bank almost as the running stream +itself. When we came to a sharp-jutting point, Captain Blaise himself, +or me to the wheel, would let her fall away until her jib-boom lay over +the opposite bank; and then, her sails well filled, it was shoot her up +into the wind and past the point before us. Twenty times we had to +weather a point of land in that fashion. Fill and shoot, fill and shoot, +never a foot too soon, never a foot too late--it was a beautiful +exhibition, and only a pity it was not light for her to see it better. + +We were clear of the river at last; that is, we were in the river's +V-shaped mouth, the delta. The south bank extended westerly, two miles +or so farther to the sea, and the other bank north-westerly toward Momba +Bar. Now we were able to get a view of the coast line, and northward to +beyond the bar it was an almost unbroken line, we could see, of lights +flaring from high points along the shore. + +Captain Blaise hove her to until he should see a guiding rocket from the +men-of-war which he knew were waiting. And presently one came, a blue +and gold from due west, and another red and gold from the +west-nor'-west, then a red and blue from north-west by west. Presently +there was another, from abreast of and close in to the bar. And we knew +there were more in waiting than had signalled. It was already a solid +line across the mouth of the river. + +If those ships guarding the river's mouth were only anchored, our +problem would have been simplified; but they were constantly shifting, +and as they showed no sailing lights, no telling where, after a signal +flashed, they would fetch next up; and always, showing no signal-light +whatever, would be the others guarding what they would like to have us +mistake for an open passage in the dark. + +Their sending up so many signals indicated a bewilderment as to our +whereabouts. By this time they must have known ashore that we were not +anchored inside the bar; and out to sea they must have known we had not +foundered in the surf, and also by this time they had probably +discovered that we were not in the lagoon. + +"They will puzzle it out soon. Get your floating mines ready," ordered +Captain Blaise. That was my work, and in anticipation of it I had +knocked together two small rafts loaded with explosives and a large one +with explosives and combustible stuff to burn brightly for half an hour +or so. + +"What does this mean?" Miss Cunningham was at Captain Blaise's elbow. +She could not have asked a question more pleasing to him. + +"It means that we are like a rat in a hole with half a dozen big cats +guarding the exit. It is an acutely angled corner we are in, Miss +Shiela, and a string of corvettes and sloops-of-war stretched, no +knowing just where, across the narrow way out. So far they do not know +we are here, but before long it is bound to occur to some of them that +this is the _Dancing Bess_ and that she has made the Momba River +passage--and then they will crowd in and pounce on us. That is, if we +don't get out before that." + +"I see. I must go down and tell father. He's not worrying, but he wants +to know what's going on." + +He let the brigantine now run offshore, parallel with the southern bank, +almost to the entrance. Then we doubled back on our course. As we came +about he called, "Ready with your mines, Guy?" + +"Ready, sir!" + +"Let go!" + +At the word over went the big raft. We sailed on for a quarter mile or +so. "Let go!" Over went the second. A quarter mile farther and the third +one went. Each mine had its time-fuse. In a very few minutes--the _Bess_ +was in by the corner of the delta again--the inshore mine exploded. + +Following the noise and flame there was a quiet and a great darkness, +and then from the southerly guard-ship a rocket, while from the shore +burst forth new lights. If the surf had not been roaring, we knew that +we could have heard those joyful yells from the watchers up that way. +Everybody on the coast knew that the _Bess_ carried two long-toms and no +lack of ammunition for them. We could imagine their chuckling over our +explosion. + +Then came the second explosion, and five minutes later the third, and +from her a great flame which continued to burn. + +"Captain Blaise, I don't understand. Why that fire-raft?" Miss Shiela +had reappeared on deck. + +"Why? We are hoping that they will think that we are sailing out to sea +in line of the explosions, just the opposite from what we are doing. If +they will but think that that burning raft is our burning hold and that +we are in distress, why--Look, Miss Shiela!" + +Two war-ships were now signalling to each other recklessly, and their +signals gave us a chance to reckon pretty nearly the course that they +were steering. Both ships were headed straight for the burning raft. As +they came on they uncovered their sailing lights, to prevent collision +with each other, and watching these two ships' lights we might have +picked a way directly between them. But if they happened to have another +ship under cover in that apparently open water, we would be lost; and +also, in passing between, we would have blocked off the lights of each +in turn to the other and then they would have us. + +Between the bar and the sailing lights of the inshore ship of the pair +now bearing down, we knew there was another ship. We had seen her signal +early, and that ship, we knew, would be held as close to the line of +surf as her draught and the nerve of her commander would allow. Captain +Blaise, reckoning where she should be, laid the _Bess's_ course for her. +"She's used to having a little loose water on her deck--let her have it +again," he said, and at this time we had everything on her, and if I +have not made any talk of it before, I'll say it now--the _Bess_ could +sail. + +We were now heading about a point off the edge of the outer line of +heavy breakers, and as the _Bess_ had the least free-board of any ship +of her size sailing the trades, she was soon carrying on her deck her +full allowance of loose water. Amidships, when she lay quietly to +anchor, a long-armed man could lean over her rail and all but touch his +fingers in the sea. Now, with the wind beam, over her lee rail amidships +the heavy seas mounted. On the high quarter-deck we had only to hang +onto the weather-rail, but the men stationed amidships had to watch +sharp to keep from being swept overboard. + +She was long and lean. It was her depth, and not her beam, which had +held the _Bess_ from capsizing in many a blow. Ten years Captain Blaise +had had her, and in those ten years, whether in sport or need, he had +not spared her. She was long and lean, and as loose forward as an old +market basket. + +Loose and lean and low, she was wiggling like a black snake through the +white-topped seas. We had men in our foretop looking for the guard-ship, +and because they knew almost exactly where to look for her, we saw her +in time and swung the _Bess_ inside her, yet closer to the breakers. Her +big bulk piled toward us, her great sails reached up in clouds--shadows +of clouds. Past our bow, past our waist, past our quarter. We could pick +the painted ports and the protruding black muzzles of her port battery +as she passed, a huge shapeless shadow racing one way, and we going the +other way like some long, sinuous, black devil of a creature streaking +through a white-bedded darkness. + +We were by before they were alive to it. A voice, another voice, a +hundred voices, and then we saw her green sidelight swing in a great +arc; but long before then we were away on the other tack, and so when +her broadside belched (and there was metal sufficient to blow us out of +water), we were half a mile away and leaping like a black hound to the +westward. + +A score of rockets followed the broadside. Captain Blaise glanced +astern, then ahead, aloft, and from there to the swinging hull beneath +him. He started to hum a tune, but broke it off, to recite: + + "O the woe of wily Hassan + When they break the tragic news!" + +And from that he turned to Miss Cunningham with a joyous, "And what d'y' +think of it all?" + +She looked her answer, with her head held high and breathing deeply. + +"And the _Dancing Bess_, isn't she a little jewel of a ship? Something +to love? Aye, she is. And you had no fear?" + +"Fear!" Her laughter rang out. "When father went below, he said, 'Fear +nothing. If Captain Blaise gets caught, there's no help for it--it's +fate.'" + +And I knew he was satisfied. She had seen him on the quarter of his own +ship and he playing the game at which, the _Bess_ under his _feet_, no +living man could beat him; and in playing it he had brought her father +and herself to freedom. It was for such moments he lived. + +The night was fading. We could now see things close by. He took her hand +and patted it. "Go below, child, and sleep in peace. You're headed for +home. Look at her slipping through the white-topped seas, and when she +lays down to her work--there's nothing ever saw the African coast can +overhaul us. No, nothing that ever leaped the belted trades can hold her +now, not the _Bess_--while her gear's sound and she's all the wind she +craves for." + +"I believe you, Captain." She looked over the roaring side. Long and +loose and lean, she was lengthening out like a quarter-horse, and he +was singing, but with a puzzling savageness of tone: + + "Roll, you hunted slaver + Roll your battened hatches down--" + +"Good-night, Captain." She turned to me. She was pale, but 'twas the +pallor of enduring bravery. There was no paling of her dark eyes. Even +darker were they now. "Good-night--" She hesitated. "Good-night, Guy." + +"Good-night, Miss Shiela," and I handed her down the companion-way. At +the foot of the stairs she looked up and whispered, "You must take care +of that wound, Guy." And I answered, "No fear," and then her face seemed +to melt away in a mist under the cabin lamp. + +Astern of us the dawn leaped up. It had been black night; in a moment, +almost, it was light again. I remembered what Captain Blaise had said of +a sunset in Jamaica; but here it was the other way about--a purple, +round-rimmed dish, and from a segment of it the blood-red salad of a sun +upleaping. And pictured clouds rolling up above the blood-red. And +against the splashes of the sun the tall palm-trees. And in the new +light the signal flambeaux paling. And the white spray of the bar +tossing high, and across the spray the white-belted squadron tacking and +filling futilely. + +I grew cold and wondered what was wrong. I dimly saw Captain Blaise come +running to me. "Guy! Guy!" he called. I remember also myself saying, +"Nothing wrong with me, sir--and no harm if there is. It's sunrise on +the Slave Coast and the _Dancing Bess_ she's homeward bound!" + + +V + +The blue-belted Trades! Day and day, week and week, the little curly, +white-headed seas, the unspecked blue sky, and the ceaseless caress of +the pursuing wind. No yard nor sail, never a bowline, sheet, or halyard +to be handled, and the _Bess_ bounding ever ahead. Beauty, peace, and a +leaping log--could the sea bring greater joy? + +Captain Blaise had located the bullet--the second shot it must have +been--which had lodged under my right shoulder and cut it out. We were +nearing home, and the fever was now gone from me, but I was not yet able +to take my part on deck. "Perhaps to-morrow," she had said. And +to-morrow was come, and I lay there thinking, and at times trying to +write. + +She had left me alone for a while. Her father had called her to hear +another of the Captain's stories. Through the cabin skylight I could see +her, or at least the curve of her chin, and her tanned throat and one +shoulder pressing inward under the skylight shutters. Her face was +turned toward Captain Blaise, whose head and shoulders, he pacing and +turning on the quarter, came regularly within range. But she was not +forgetting me; every few minutes she thrust her head beneath the raised +skylight hatches and looked down to see that I wanted for nothing, and +always she smiled. + +I was propped up in an easy chair. Up to two days back I had been on a +cot. Mr. Cunningham had improved so rapidly that for more than a week +now he had been allowed on deck, and there he was now, as I said, +listening with his daughter to the tales of Captain Blaise. His laughter +and her breaths of suspense, I could hear the one and feel the other. + +I took up my pad of paper and resumed my writing. And reviewing my +writing, I had to smile at myself, even as I used to smile at Captain +Blaise when he would submit his couplets or quatrains for my judgment. +He might marshal off-hand a stanza or two of his vagabond thoughts, but +here was I carefully composing with pencil and paper, and had been for a +week now. + +I had never been ill before, never for five minutes. And this illness +had driven me to a strange introspection. There had been time to think. +I smiled at Captain Blaise's amateurish rhymings on the veranda of the +manor-house. I had condemned him in my own mind for this death or that +death of his irregular career; on that last night on the veranda I had +even allowed him to read my thoughts of such matters. And now I could +not recollect of his having ever killed or maimed except in defence of +his life or property; and yet that night in Momba I had shot, caring not +whether I killed or no. Self-defence? At the instant of shooting I had +thought, had almost spoken it aloud: "There! There's for a channel to +let the starlight into your unclean brain." Self-defence? Tish! The +Governor's son desired, possibly loved in his way, a girl that I had +known no longer than I knew him, and there it was--I loved her, too! +Captain Blaise himself had probably never killed on less provocation; +and meditating on his emotional side, on his many provocations, his +life-long environment, I had to concede that the Captain Blaise I +condemned was a less guilty man than I. + +This, as I was beginning to see, was but an argument with myself for a +final dismissal of my old life. Surely I should be ashamed to admit that +in such fashion was my brain trying to fool my soul; but so it was. +Remorse? I should have been worn with remorse, I know; but I was not. I +tried to grieve for my hasty judgment of Captain Blaise: and I did. But +for the Governor's son, not a qualm. I, too, like Captain Blaise, had +become the creature of hereditary instincts and overpowering emotion. +Never in all my life before had I thought that any sin or shortcoming of +mine was ever to be anybody's business but my own. My salvation lay in +the future, which, now that my conscience was awakened, I would have +only myself to censure if it did not become what I wished. + +But these serious thoughts were of previous days. This morning I was to +have some little composition ready for her when she came down. I turned +to my paper and pencil and began to write. But thoughts, such thoughts +as I conceived would please her, came slowly. My new conscience or it +may have been the voices of the quarter-deck,--her father's questions, +Captain Blaise's muffled answers, her exclamations of delight and +wonder,--all these diverted me. In despair I tried to catch, as I +usually could, what Captain Blaise was saying, but to-day he spoke in so +low a tone that I could not quite. + +Ubbo came down for a chart, a particular chart which Captain Blaise has +always kept apart from the others. I pointed out to him where he would +find it. And my eye followed his figure up the cabin steps. In a +sailor's costume Ubbo was proud but perspiring, though devotion shone +out in every drop of perspiration. + +[Illustration: After a long look I saw that he did not resume his +narrative. By that I knew that the stranger was troubling him] + +Through the skylight I saw Captain Blaise take the chart from Ubbo, +unroll and scan it. "I was right. Yes, here's the spot." He was +addressing Shiela. "In red ink, see, and here's about where we are +now--not ten miles from here, north by east." + +Shiela was bending over the chart when "Sail-ho!" rang out from the +lookout in the foretop. He had a grand voice, that man on watch. + +With one hand Captain Blaise held the chart so Shiela still could read +it; with the other he reached through the skylight opening for his long +glass. After a long look I saw that he did not resume his narrative. By +that I knew that the stranger was troubling him. + +Shiela came below to see me. The traces of tears were in her eyes. + +"It's a large ship to the northward," she said. "From something Captain +Blaise whispered to father it may be a man-o'-war, though I hope not. +But what have you done since I've been gone? You mustn't feel put out +when I have to go on deck. It's an ungrateful girl, you know, who is not +courteous to her host, especially when that host is Captain Blaise. +Think what father and I owe him! And what a wonderfully interesting man +he is! And what adventures he has had!" + +"But what made you cry?" + +"Captain Blaise was telling of a happening on this very spot almost. It +was a ship from Cadiz for Savannah. She had taken fire. He picked up +among others three people lashed to some pieces of wreckage--a man, a +woman, and their baby. She was dead and he dying. He did die later +aboard his ship, the predecessor of the _Bess_. The baby lived. Do you +recall the story?" + +"No, he never told me that one. And the baby?" + +"The father had practically supported the baby in the water for four +days--the baby was less than a year old--and the mother had nursed him +till she died. For two days, the man said, with nothing to eat herself. +She and he, they had practically killed themselves for the baby boy. She +was a Spanish woman--a lady. The father died aboard Captain Blaise's +ship. He was an American who had married abroad without consulting his +father, and the old gentleman made such a fuss about it that the young +man had stayed away--intended to remain away and renounce his heritage; +but at last the father had sent for him, and he was then on his way +home. But you should have heard Captain Blaise tell it. He made us feel +that mother's love for her baby, that mother who was dead before he +picked her up, and made us feel, too, what a man the father was. What an +actor he is! I tried not to cry, but I did. But let me see--what have +you there?" + +I showed her some things. She picked up the nearest and read it aloud: + + "I was walking down the glen-- + O my heart!--on a summer's day. + He passed me by, my gentleman-- + Would I had never seen the day! + + "True love can neither hate nor scorn, + And ne'er will true love pass away. + And his hair was silk as tasselled corn, + My heart alack--that summer's day! + + "Oh, he wore plumes in his broad hat + And jewelled buckles on his shoon, + And O, the sparkle in his eye! + And yet his love could die so soon!" + +"H-m. Suggests satin breeches and hair-powder, men who could navigate a +ball-room floor more safely than the Trades, doesn't it? Wherever did +you get such notions?" + +I showed her a volume, one of Captain Blaise's, an anthology of the +Elizabethan and Restoration poets. "I was trying to write like one of +'em," I explained. "And I thought it was pretty good." + +"I don't--a poor girl believing that Heaven made her kind for the high +people's pleasure. No, I don't like that. And 'hair as silk as tasselled +corn!' Do you like tasselled corn hair?" + +"Why, no--in a man. But my own being black--" + +"Hush! Black's best. No, you're not intended for that kind of writing." + +"But here--listen: + + "'True love can neither hate nor scorn, + And ne'er will true love pass away.' + +"Don't you like that?" + +"Something like it's been said so often. Why don't you put it in your +own words?" She took up another sheet. "What's this about?" + +"That's about a day and night at sea--a fine day in the Trades, such a +day as to-day--and last night." + +"It _was_ a beautiful moon last night, wasn't it?" And she read to +herself. Coming to the last stanza, she read aloud, unconsciously I +think: + + "The stars gleamed out of a purple light, + The moon trembled wide on the sea; + The Western Ocean smiled that night-- + Sweetheart, 'twas a dream of thee!" + +She paused. "But the ocean doesn't smile." "But it does. Smiles and +frowns, and roars and coos, and coaxes and threatens, and strikes and +caresses, and leaps and rolls--and so many other things. I've seen it. +And Captain Blaise will tell you the same." + +She looked strangely at me. In the deep sea I had seen, at times, that +deep dark blue of her eyes--ultramarine, they call it; but hers softer. +I almost told her so, but I was afraid. + +She looked away and repeated softly: + + "'The Western Ocean smiled that night--Sweetheart, + 'twas a dream of thee!'" + +It's pretty, but more like what men who cruise for pleasure would write. +You're a sailor--have taken a sailor's chances. Why don't you write like +a sailor? It is a sad sea, a terrible sea, despite all your beautiful +blue Trades. Why don't you write of the tragic sea?" + +"I knew that some time you would say something like that. I've seen it +in your eyes before." + +"You have?" + +"Why, many times. And so, here." And from between the pages of Captain +Blaise's book of verse I drew another sheet. At that time I would have +been ashamed to let anybody else see these things, but I did not mind +her. "Here," I said, "is one I felt. One night in the Caribbean we were +caught in a tornado, and we thought--Captain Blaise said afterward he +thought so too--that we had stood our last watch. And at the height of +it--we could do nothing but stand by--one of the crew, a young fellow--I +was only sixteen years old myself then--said to me, 'Oh, Master Guy, +what will she say when she hears?' He meant his young wife. He'd been +married just before we put out, and she'd come down to the ship to see +him off. So listen: + + "'The spray, most-like, was in my eyes, + He waved his hand to me-- + The wind it blew a gale that day + When he sailed out to sea.'" + +"Ah-h!" She leaned closer. + +"It _was_ a gale the day we put out. We had to get out--in Charleston +Harbor it was--and they were hot after us--gale or no gale, Captain +Blaise put out. I'm trying to imagine what she would think when she +heard. + + "'And now no spray is in my eyes, + No hand is waved to me-- + But all the gales of time shall blow + Ere he comes back from sea!'" + +"And she a bride! Oh-h, the poor girl!" She had leaned over my shoulder +to read it for herself, and her breath was on my cheek. + +"That is why, if I had--a wife, I should dread the sea." + +"And that is why a woman--But how long have you been writing poetry?" + +"Poetry? Or rhyme? Never before the day I saw you." + +"But when did such ideas before take hold of you?" + +"The other night I was lying here looking up, and after a time the moon +shone through onto my cot, and you crossed its path--you had given me my +night cup and I had pretended to be asleep; and I thought of you looking +out on the moonlit sea and I got to wondering what you were thinking of. +And I remembered a thousand such moonlit nights when you were not there. +And I thought what a difference it would have made had you been there, +and so when I say + + "'The Western Ocean smiled that night--Sweetheart, + 'twas a dream of thee!' + +"you must not smile. I meant it; for if the ocean smiles and whispers and +makes men dream of--" + +"Oh-h!" her head had settled and now her cheek was against mine. "Go +on," she said softly. + +"It made me dream of her that was never more than a dream-woman until I +saw you. No longer a dream--not after you stepped out onto the veranda +of the Governor's house that night in Momba. I knew it again when, +looking out from the shrubbery in the garden, you looked at me and said, +'And who is this?' And I knew it when with you in the long-boat, when I +wanted to reach out and take your hand--" + +"And why didn't you? I knew you were weak from your wound, and it would +have been a charity in me to cheer you up." + +"Divine charity--but I was not weak--not from any wound. I had not the +courage. A sailor may shape his course by a star, but that does not mean +that he ever thinks of reaching up and trying to grasp it." + +"And you've heard the sea whisper, too, Guy?" + +"Many a time. In the night mostly--in the mid-watch, when it's quietest. +I've leant over the rail and heard it whisper up to me. People laugh at +that, but they know nothing of the sea. And the day, or the night, comes +to some men, when she whispers up to him and beckons with her wide arms +and on her deep bosom offers to pillow him, and weary of the +wrong-doing, mostly it's wrong-doing, or despair, when men hear +it--weary, weary to death, they are glad to--" + +"No, no--no, Guy--you must never go like that!" + +"But when a man's alone?" + +She rested her chin on my shoulder, she reached a hand down to mine. +"You will not be alone, dear--never, never again." + +A voice from above recalled me. "Guy! O Guy! If you can make shift to +come on deck, you would do well. We are in close quarters and like to +be yet closer." + +I looked up, not in full time, but in time to catch a glint of his eyes. +Pain in his voice, suffering in his eyes--never till that moment did it +come to me that this whole cruise had been but a wooing of Shiela +Cunningham. And I, who owed him everything in life, I had stood in his +way. And even with Shiela there my heart ached for him. + + +VI + +When I made the deck I saw that off each beam was an American frigate, +and ahead was the land--the coast of Georgia. + +No doubt of what they were after. The _Bess_ was a much-desired prize, +and known as far as a long glass could shape her lines or pick her rig. +"But there is yet time, sir," I suggested, "to put about, run between +them, and escape to the open sea." + +"There _is_ time," he answered curtly. He had not looked fairly at me +since I came on deck. "But I am going to land our passengers, and +without risk of their capture." + +I thought that he had in mind to hold up for the mouth of the Savannah +River, and run on up the river to the city. He could do that, though it +would mean the final abandonment of the brigantine and, most likely, the +identification of Captain Blaise with Mr. Villard of Villard Manor. + +Though these were two fast-sailing frigates, we were outrunning them, +not rapidly, but sufficiently to make it certain, while yet we were a +mile offshore, that we would easily make the river entrance, if such was +his intention. But evidently not so, for he now ordered the gig ready +for lowering and had Mr. Cunningham's strong-box brought on deck. + +"Shall I also take that package you spoke of?" asked Mr. Cunningham. + +"Surely. It is ready in my room." And he went below and came up with it, +a great beribboned and bewaxed envelope, saying, "Deliver it when the +time comes, Gad. Or wait, let Miss Shiela do it," and handed it to her +instead. + +She blushed vividly and placed it in her portmanteau. "Thank you, sir," +she said. + +I had difficulty in keeping my eyes off her, even though I was again +acting as first officer of the _Bess_, and my first duty just now was to +keep an eye on the two ships and render judgment as to their intentions. + +"That fellow to the south seems to have decided to bid up for the +Savannah River entrance on the next tack, sir," I reported. + +"Yes." He was busy with the Cunninghams and spoke absently, though it +was also likely that he saw better than I did what the man-o'-war would +be at. "That's good. Let him stretch that tack all he pleases." + +"Then we are not to stand in yet, sir?" + +"Not yet, not till the northerly fellow comes into stays. We'll tack +then, but not for the river." + +The frigate to the north came into the wind, and as she did we wore ship +and stood up; not a great divergence from our old course, but enough to +make them think we might yet come about and try for the open sea. The +ship to the south of us took notice then and came into the wind, and +while they were hanging there we eased off and headed straight for the +white beach to the north of the river. + +Both ships, after the loss of some minutes in irons, once more filled +their sails and made straight for our wake. Now they seemed to say, +"Another half-mile on that leg and you won't make either the river or +the open water." + +As we neared the white shore an inlet opened up before us. "There's +something, Gad, no chart will show you," observed Captain Blaise. +"There's a channel, carved round an island since the last government +chart was plotted. They're doing some puzzling aboard those war-dogs +now, I'll warrant. They're thinking we're going to beach and abandon +her, I'll wager." + +The _Bess_ held straight on. It was an inlet which went on for half a +mile or so before turning obliquely to the north. It was wide and deep +enough for us--plenty; but a frigate's tonnage would have her troubles, +if she tried to follow. + +We weathered the first bend. Before us was another bend. I remembered +now that years before, when I was a little fellow, I had come in and out +of this very place. I began to recollect dimly that after a while it +came to the open sea again some miles to the north. + +We were almost to the other entrance when he ordered the _Bess_ hove-to +and the gig lowered. Into it went the strong-box and the Cunninghams and +Ubbo. "And you, too, Guy." He was looking at me queerly. "Mr. Cunningham +is still weak. And Shiela, brave as she is, is only a woman--a girl. +Will you see that they are landed safely? That is the main shore. See +that their luggage is carried up to the top of that hill. In the creek +beyond that hill is an old darky who will take them in his little +sharpie by way of a back river to Savannah." + +And so I was to have a few more minutes with her. At the gangway he took +my hand and held it while he said, "You're weak yet--don't hurry. Those +two frigates won't follow us in here." I remember wondering why only +Ubbo was in the boat besides ourselves; but I was too excited at the +thought of so soon landing her to think logically. As I was about to +step into the gig he whispered, "Take good care of her, won't you, Guy?" + +"Why, of course, sir." + +"That's the boy." He pressed my hand. + +We shoved off, Ubbo rowing. In two minutes we were on the beach. I was +still too weak to be of much help to Ubbo with the strong-box, and so it +took us some time to get it to the top of the hill. We covered it with +sand and brush to guard against a possible landing party from the +frigates. Shiela's idea that was, and it delayed us another few minutes. + +I turned to go. Shiela, she was nervous too, but smiling. "Shiela--" + +"You're not going back to the ship?" + +"But I must--I must." + +"No, you're not--and you must not. Here." She had taken the bewaxed and +beribboned package from her little handbag. It was addressed to "Guy +Villard, Esq., Villard Manor, Chatham County, Ga." + +"But who is he?" + +"Who is he? Who are you?" + +"Guy Blaise." + +"No, you're not. Open it and read. Or wait, let me read it." + +And it is true that not till then did I suspect. I thought that I might +have been his son, or the son of some wild friend, born of a marriage +on the West Coast or other foreign parts. But of this thing I never had +a suspicion. + +I was the baby boy picked up in the wreckage of the burning ship. There +were the marriage certificates of my father and mother, and the title +deeds to the Villard estate. It had been a great temptation--he the next +of kin, my father's cousin, and no one knowing. And he, too, feared the +strange blood. But watching my growth, he had come to love me, and +wanted me to love him, and feared my contempt if I should learn. All +this was explained in a letter in a small envelope, written recently and +hastily. Together, Shiela and I, we finished the reading of it: + + Though I'm not so sure now that you shouldn't thank me for + withholding your inheritance until the quality of your manhood was + assured. It is true that I imperilled your mortal body a score of + times, but through fifty-score weeks I nurtured your immortal soul, + Guy. + + And now I am going back to that sea wherein I expect to find rest + at the last, and let my friends make no mourning over it, Guy. 'Tis + a beautiful clean grave, no mould nor crawling worms there. But if + it be that the sea will have none of me, and the metalled war-dogs + drive me, and spar-shattered and hull-battered I make a run of it + to harbor in my old age, I shall come in full confidence of a + mooring under your roof, Guy. And who knows that I won't be worth + my salt there? + + You have won her, Guy. I knew you would from that night in Momba + when you sat in the stern sheets and laughed. 'Twas in your laugh + that night, though you did not suspect it. But I know. The tides + of youth were surging in you. Beauty, wit, and courage--with these + in any man I will measure sword; but the tides of youth are of + eternal power. + + I should like to dance your children on my knee, Guy, and lull the + songs of the sea into their little ears. I've a fine collection by + now, Guy--you've no idea--ringing chanties to get a ship under way, + and roaring staves of the High Barbaree, ballads of the gale, and + lullabies of west winds and summer nights. And your children, Guy, + will grow up none the less brave gentlemen and fine ladies for the + strengthening salt of the sea in their blood and the clearing whiff + of the gale in their brains. So a fair, fair Trade to you and + Shiela--the fair warm Trades which kiss even as they bear us + on--and do not forget the tides of youth are flooding for you. Take + them and let them bear you on to happiness and wisdom. + +I felt weak and dizzy, but I rose to my feet and started down the hill. +Shiela caught me and held me. "Look!" She was pointing out to sea. + +[Illustration: There she was, the _Dancing Bess_, holding a taut bowline +to the eastward. And there were the two frigates, but they might as well +have been chasing a star] + +There she was, the _Dancing Bess_, holding a taut bowline to the +eastward. And there were the two frigates, but they might as well have +been chasing a star. + +"Look!" She handed me the glasses. I looked and saw her ensign dipping. +I took off my hat and waved it, hoping that with his long glass he could +see. He must have seen, for the ensign dipped three times again, and +from the long-tom in her waist shot out a puff of smoke. We waited for +the sound of it. It came. + +Farewell that meant. I watched her till her great foresail was no +larger than a toy ship's. Then I sat down and cried, and had no care +that the negro slave and servant, Ubbo, saw me. + +Mr. Cunningham came and sat beside me. "Guy," he said, "don't worry +about him. He'll come through all right. He has great qualities in him." + +"He's good, too--too good to me." + +"Great and good," exclaimed Shiela. "He could love and was lovable. And +what's all your greatness to that?" + +It may be that she who knew him least understood him best. She was +crying too. + +When her great square foresails were no more than a gull's wing on the +hazy horizon we waved her a last salute. Then we made our way to the +creek and sailed up Back River, past Savannah, and on to Villard +Landing. And hand in hand Shiela and I walked up between the row of +moss-hung cypress trees to the manor-house and--Home. + + + + +Don Quixote Kieran, Pump-Man + + +He came into the outer office of the great oil company, and through the +half-open door of his private office the new superintendent observed the +stimulating style of his entrance. Looking for work, no doubt of that, +but not looking like a man who was apologizing for it; and that in +itself was a joy to the new official. + +No hesitating--"Please, sir, who is the gentleman,"--no timid waiting on +any languid understrapper's pleasure for this one. A short pause; his +dark eyes swept the room from wall to wall; his black head bent +respectfully and not without appreciation toward the pretty +stenographer; and then, before the leisurely office boy thought it time +to rise and ask what he wanted, he was at the rail-gate. And when the +gate did not at once swing open, he stepped lightly over it; and +singling out from all the furtively smiling males the head clerk, he +charged straight across the floor toward that important person's desk. + +And the head clerk, who was also the head wit, took a peek at him +coming, and very politely said, "Pray be seated?" And, also very +politely, "From whence came you and what willst thou?" + +The chuckling heads bobbed above the rows of desks. The head clerk +himself had to gaze window-ward to smother his smile. + +"Gramercy, kind sir--" + +"Gramercy? Eh, what? Gramercy?" + +"Gramercy Park--you know where Gramercy Park is? Or didn't you ask me +where I came from?" + +"Oh-h-Oh-h, yes." + +"Of course, and I'm after a berth as pump-man on your oil ship sailing +to-day for the Gulf." + +"And what, may I ask, do you know of our class of ships?" + +"Only what I've heard--most modern oil-tankers afloat, and I'd like to +try one out--and sail the Gulf again, if you'll give me the chance." + +"M-m--what are your qualifications?" + +"Qualifications? For pump-man on an oil-tanker?" + +"Pump-man--yes. And on an oil-tanker. I'm not hiring a rough rider, or a +policeman, or an aeroplanist--just a pump-man." + +Through his open door the new superintendent caught the wink which his +head clerk directed at the second clerk. And caught it so easily that +the thought came to him that to share in the humor of the head clerk +may have been one of the recreations of his predecessor. + +"What has been your experience with marine machinery? What were your +last three or four places?" + +"My last three or four? Well, one was being second-assistant engineer on +a government collier from the Philippines with a denaturalized skipper, +and for purser a slick up-state New Yorker; and both of 'em at the old +game--grafting off the grub allowance. And that's bad." + +"Eh--what's bad?" + +"Grafting off the grub. Men quit a ship for poor grub quicker than they +do for poor pay. For a week after we hit San Francisco I didn't get any +further away from the dining-room of the nearest hotel--well, than"--he +turned suddenly--"than that fellow there is from here--that fat, +knock-kneed chap there who seems to have so much to say about me." The +second clerk, who was also the second head wit, yelped like a suddenly +squelched concertina and was quiet. + +The new-comer, after a grave study of the knock-kneed one's person, +resumed his narrative. "Then oiler on a cattle steamer. Ever been on a +cattleman?" + +"Huh!" The head clerk was scowling tremendously. + +"No? You ought to try one sometime. Some are all right, but some +are"--he looked sidewise at the stenographer--"well, no matter. One +night two sweet-tempered, light-complexioned coal-passers hit me +together, one with a shovel, the other with a slice-bar. It was the +slice-bar, I think, that got me. I didn't see it coming--or going +either--but probably it was the slice-bar." He bent his neck and parted +the heavy black hair. A white welt showed through the hair. + +The head clerk flashed an enlightening wink toward the second head +clerk; but the second clerk, seeming to be less interested than +formerly, the wink was flashed over to the stenographer; but as she, +too, seemed preoccupied, the head clerk, rather less buoyantly, +inquired, "And what did you do to the two coal-passers?" + +"For what I did to them--after I came to--I had to jump into the Mersey +and swim ashore. British justice, you know. Inflexible!--especially to a +foreigner who cracks a couple of domestic skulls." + +"And then?" + +"English navy." + +The head clerk began to flash again. "And what, may I arsk, was +wrong--haw, haw!--wrong with the sair-vice?" + +The new-comer almost smiled. "The grub, for one thing. My word, the +grub! Blow me for a bleedin' Dutchman, but I couldn't go the grub; +y'know. An' a man's a man, with a man's 'eart an' feelin's, even if +'e's nowt but a sailor, ain't he now? You're bloody well right 'e is. +But I took a fall out of a submarine before I quit. 'Ave you seen +'em--the little black chaps wot goes down an' comes up like bloomin' +little poppusses?" + +The head clerk unobtrusively relapsed into his every-day speech. "And +weren't they exciting enough for you?" + +"The one I was in was. But you see, sir, she sunk one d'y an' all 'ands +with 'er." + +"Evidently you didn't sink with her. Or maybe you're amphibious?" + +"Amphibious? Oh, I s'y now, but that's a good one. My word! But you was +jokin', wasn't you, sir? Of course you was. No, hi 'appened to be ashore +that d'y, sir. A mistike, sir, you see. But such a turn of wit as you +'ave, sir!" + +The head clerk suddenly shed his smile. "Never mind about my wit. What +then? You deserted?" + +"Not hexactly, sir. I was hofficially dead, sir. Ought to 'ave been at +the bottom, sir. O yes, sir. An' when I comes along an' declares myself, +they said I was a himposter--himposin' on honest people, sir--mikin' a +'ero o' myself, sir, as bein' the only man to escipe, sir. An' so I +comes aw'y--in a 'urry, sir. But if I was married, sir, my widow could +'ave 'ad 'er pension, sir. Yes, sir, 'er pension." + +"That's a queer thing." + +"Do you think so, sir?" + +The head clerk unexpectedly bounced up and down in his chair. "See here, +don't imagine you can make fun of me, because you can't." + +"Now don't get grouchy. When you pull out a cigar and start to light it, +don't blame a man looking on if he thinks you don't object to smoking. +Anyhow, after my navy experience I came back home and landed on an East +River tug. Said I struck the busy season. Must have struck a busy +concern, too. From daylight to ten, eleven at night--once in a while a +night lapping over. Nothing doing but work. I don't mind work, but this +indulging a lawless passion for it--not for mine. I've had three months +of that, and I think I'm due for a change. And don't you think that's +enough autobiography to qualify me for pump-man on an oil-tanker?" + +The head clerk yawned prodigiously, and hummed, and whistled, looked out +of the window, and by and by found time to say, "you can leave your +name. And sometime possibly"--and just then the buzzer clicked, and the +applicant saw him disappear into the private office. + + * * * * * + +It was only the new superintendent's second day, and to the head clerk +he still seemed an unaggressive sort, not much to look at, and, so far, +not much to say. A clever man ought to be able to handle him. And yet, +as the head clerk was crossing the floor of the private office, the eye +of the new superintendent never looked away. Yes, he did have a puzzling +eye. + +"Close the door, Mr. Grump. Why not ship that man for that berth? He +seems competent." + +"The captain of the _Rapidan_ said he had a man in mind for the place, +sir." + +"M-h-h. And something of a martinet, isn't he, this _Rapidan_ captain?" + +"Something, sir." + +"M-h-h. But even so, he probably won't object to my naming one man of +his crew. And I would like it if you would sign this man." + +"The captain of the _Rapidan_ has always selected all his own crew, +sir." The head clerk had rested both hands, with fingers spread, on his +chief's desk. His chief making no reply, the head clerk added: "And he +rather resents interference from the office." + +The superintendent was playing idly with a paper knife. His gaze seemed +to be directed to the lower buttons of his head clerk's waistcoat. +"Interference?" he repeated. "Interference? Mr. Grump, you have a +reputation for humor, or so I judge. I've been listening to you trying +to bedevil that man out there, but I'm afraid your humor is a little on +the slap-stick order. And so"--the superintendent raised his head--"if +I use a club on you, instead of the point of a rapier, I hope you won't +think I do it out of natural brutality." + +Their eyes met. The head clerk straightened from shoulder to heel. "And +now, this is not a request; it is an order: Sign that man." + +"Yes, sir." + +"And Mr. Grump, why did you ask all those questions of a man you had no +notion of shipping?" + +"Why, sir, I meant no harm by that, sir. All kinds come here looking for +berths on our ships, and some of them are rather queer ones, you know, +sir, and we like to have a little fun with them." + +"Have fun with that man? I wish I had your intellectual nerve." + +"You know him, sir? If I had known--" + +"I don't know him. I saw him and listened to him, as you did. But let me +tell you something, Mr. Grump. You're paid $5,000 a year here, and +presumably you know your business. I get several times that. Presumably +I, too, know my business. But when you or I reach a stage where we can +have fun with that man out there, then you and I won't have to rest +content with our relatively subordinate and unimportant executive +positions in the Northern and Southern Oil Company." + +"Subordinate positions, sir!" + +"Exactly. And Mr. Grump?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Why is it that good men don't seem to stay long on some of our ships, +especially on the _Rapidan_?" + +"I couldn't say, sir." + +"No? Too bad you didn't take the trouble to find out during all the +years you've been here. Possibly I can find out. I'll take passage on +the _Rapidan_ this trip. But say nothing about it to anybody, mind. If +the captain wishes to know something more of his passenger, say that it +is a friend of the third or fourth vice-president, or of one of the +directors, or of the office boy's, or the stenographer's, or anybody at +all, taking a little sea trip for his health. And his name--" He picked +up the telephone directory, inserted the blade of the paper knife, +opened the book, and laid the knife across the page. "Noyes. Noyes +sounds all right. Tell him the passenger's name is Noyes. And that's all +for now, except that you sign that man." + +"Yes, sir." The reorganized head clerk clicked his heels, wheeled, +marched to his desk, and without delay signed John Kieran as pump-man +for the Gulf voyage of the oil ship _Rapidan_. + + +II + +It lacked two minutes to sailing time, and the passenger was in the +cabin mess-room, when he heard the exclamation. "Here he comes now." + +He looked through the air-port. Out on the deck was a huge fellow gazing +up the dock. The passenger, who knew the big man for the boson, gazed up +the dock also and saw that it was the pump-man coming; and he was +singing cheerily as he came: + + "Our ship she was alaborin' in the Gulf o' Mexico, + The skipper on the quarter--" + +Usually it is only the drunks who come over the side of an oil-tanker +singing, but this was no drunk. Drunks generally make use of all the +aids to navigation when they board a ship. Above all, they do not ignore +the gang-plank. But this lad wasn't going a hundred feet out of his way +for any gang-plank. He hove his suit-case aboard, made a one-handed +vault from dock to deck (and from stringpiece to rail was high as his +shoulder), and when he landed on deck it was like a cat on his toes; and +like a cat he was off and away, suit-case in hand, while those of the +crew who had only seen him land were still wondering where he dropped +from. + +The big man plainly did not like the style of him at all. "Here you!" +he bellowed, "who the hell are _you_?" + +And the new-comer ripped out, "And who the hell are _you_ that wants to +know?" + +"Who'm I? Who'm I? I'll show yer bloody well soon who I am." + +"Well, show me." + +"Show yer?" + +"Yes, you big sausage, show me." + +"Show yer? Show yer?" The big man peered around the ship. Surely it was +a mirage. + +At the very first whoop from the big man the pump-man had stopped dead, +softly set down his suit-case, and waited. Now he stepped swiftly toward +the big man. And to the passenger, looking and listening from the cabin +mess-room, it looked like the finest kind of a battle; but just then the +captain came up the gang-plank calling out, "Cast off those lines. And +don't fall asleep over it, either." The deck force scattered to carry +out his orders. The pump-man picked up his suit-case and went on to his +quarters. + +Next morning (the ship by now well down the Jersey coast and the +passenger on the bridge by the captain's invitation) again was heard the +carolling voice: + + "Our ship she was alaborin' in the Gulf o' Mexico, + The skipper on the quarter, with eyes aloft and low. + Says he, 'My bucko boys--'" + +that far when the big man's hoarse bass interrupted, "Say you, what +about that Number Seven tank?" + + "--Says he, 'My bucko boys, it's asurely goin' to blow'" + +The pump-man paused, inclined his head, set one hand back of his ear, +and asked, "And what about Number Seven tank? And speak up, son, so I +can hear you." + +"Speak up!" The big man roared to the heavens. "Speak up! Don't tell me +to speak up. Did yer clean that tank out?" + +"No, I didn't clean it out." + +"Yer didn't? And why in hell didn't yer?" + +"Because I don't have to. But I put a couple of men to work and saw that +they cleaned it out. And it was done before you were out of your warm +bunk this morning." + +"Who's that big fellow?" The passenger put the question to the captain. + +"That's my bosun--and a good one." + +"And the other? Know anything of him?" + +"The singing one? Nothin', except he's the new pump-man. And I can see +right now it won't be many hours afore the bosun'll beat his head off." + +"You think he will?" + +"I _know_ he will. Why, look at him--the size of him, and solid's a +rock." + +The passenger took another look over the top of the bridge canvas. He +was surely a big man; and under his thin sleeveless jersey, surely a +solid man. And the pump-man, in his skimpy, badly-fitting dungarees, +though of good height, did not look to be much more than half the +other's bulk. + +"That same bosun's beat up more men than any shipping agency ever kept a +record of. That's Big Bill. And if you'd ever travelled on oil-tankers, +you'd 'a' heard of him. He's a whale. Take another look at him, Mr. +Noyes." + +Noyes took another look. The boson surely was a tremendously muscled +man. He was knobbed with muscle. But Noyes had his own opinion about the +two men, and he hazarded it now. + +"But he's a wonderfully quick-moving fellow, that pump-man, captain. And +he's surely got his nerve with him. Look at him leap across that open +hatch! If he fell short he'd get a thirty-foot drop and break his neck." + +"And I wish he would break his neck. And so can a kangaroo hop around, +but you wouldn't pick a kangaroo to fight a bull buffalo. You'll find +out the difference, if ever he tackles my bosun. And no fear my bosun +won't get him. He'll get him, you see. And when they come together I'll +take good care there's no interruption." + +"But why does the bosun hound him so? This man was no sooner aboard than +the bosun began to crowd him." + +"Did he? And perhaps you think the bosun of an oil-tanker's goin' to +hand a man a type-written letter every time he wants to have a word with +him. He's a good bosun. He knows his business, and he saves me a lot of +trouble." + +And what the captain did not say, but what Noyes imagined he saw in his +eye, was: "And I'll be telling you pretty soon to keep to yourself your +opinion of ship's matters." + +When Noyes went to his room that night, it was for a stay of two days. +More than a year now since he had been to sea, and the weather passing +Hatteras had been bad. But now it was the fourth day out, and Hatteras +was far astern, and the ship was plunging easily southward, with the +white sandy shore of Florida abeam. A fine, fair day it was, with the +Caribbean breeze pouring in through the air-port. The passenger shaved +and washed and got into his clothes. Above him he could hear the captain +dressing down somebody. He stepped out on deck. + +It was two sailors who had complained of the grub, and he had made short +work of their complaint. "I'll give you what grub I please. And that's +good grub." That and more, and drove the two sailors, with their +dinners on their tin mess-plates, down to the deck. + +Noyes, who remembered that the company allowed fifty cents a day per man +for grub, took a look and a whiff of the protested rations as the men +went by. "Phew!" He ascended to the bridge. The captain turned to him. +"Did you see those two? Complaining of the grub, mind you. What do they +know of grub? In the hovels they came from they never saw good grub." + +Noyes made no answer. He was interested just then in the pump-man, who +now came strolling along and presently overtook the protesting sailors. +The better to observe proceedings, Noyes took his station on the chart +bridge aft. "And did you fellows think that any polite game of +conversation up on the bridge was going to get you a shift of rations?" +the pump-man was saying. "Don't you know that what he saves out of the +ship's allowance goes into his own pocket? What you fellows want to do +is to go and scare the cook to death--or half way to it. If it's only +for a couple of days, it'll help. Here, let's go back and shake him up. +Besides, we might as well start something to make a fellow smile. Most +morbid packet ever I was in. You'd think it was a crime to laugh on her. +Come on." + +The galley was a little house by itself on the after deck of the ship. +Noyes saw the pump-man call out the cook, and after a time, their voices +rising, he heard, "Now, cookie, no more of that slush. Mind you, I'm +wasting no time talking to the captain. I'm talking to you. We know that +he slips you a little ten-spot every month for keeping down the grub +bills; but even if he does, you'll have to dig out something better." + +"I'll be giving you what I please." + +"You will, will you?" The cook was a good-sized man, and he held a +skillet in his hand, but he was taken by surprise. The pump-man whipped +the skillet from him, whirled him about, ran him into his galley, and +closed and bolted the door behind him. A stove-pipe projected from the +roof of the galley. The pump-man climbed up, stuffed a bunch of wet +cotton waste into the stovepipe, and with a valve which he seemed to be +taking apart, took his stand by the taffrail. + +Every few minutes he got up from his valve, put his ear to the door of +the shack, and listened. After twenty minutes or so he opened the door, +lifted out the cook, and held him over the rail. He was gulping like a +catfish. + +Noyes looked to see if the captain had witnessed the little comedy. +Evidently he had, for Noyes could hear him swearing. + +Noyes, now on the bridge, was still chuckling over the picture of the +scared cook when the pump-man came walking forward. He was swinging a +pair of Stillson wrenches, one in each hand, as if they were Indian +clubs, and singing as he came: + + "Our ship she was alaborin' in the Gulf o' Mexico, + The skipper on the quarter, with eyes aloft and low. + Says he, 'My bucko boys, it's asurely goin' to blow-- + Take every blessed rag from her, strip her from truck to toe, + And we'll see what she can make of it.' + And O, my eyes, it blew! And blew and blew, + And blew and blew! My soul, how it did blow! + Aboard the _Flying Walrus_ in the Gulf o' Mexico. + + "The sea--" + +Noyes saw him leap to one side, even as he saw a heavy, triple-sheaved +block bound on the steel deck beside him. Noyes looked up. Aloft was the +boson, apparently rigging up some sort of a hoisting arrangement. + +The pump-man stopped to pull out a handkerchief and wipe his forehead. +Then he, too, looked up. "Fine business. But did you think for a minute +you--that I didn't have my eye on you?" + +It took the boson a minute or two to find his tongue. When he did, it +was to say, "Young fella, did you ship for a opera singer or wot?" + +"I shipped for what you'll find my name signed against in the articles, +and I'm on the job every minute. And I'll go on singing if it pleases +me. And if it pleases me, I'll finish that song, too." + +"Not on this ship, you won't, 'less you sing it in your sleep and me not +in hearin'." + +"I'll finish it on this ship, son. And it won't be in my sleep and +you'll be within hearing." + +A group of deck-hands snickered, and the boson pretended to climb down +from the rigging. "You swine! What the--" + +They retreated in terror. "It wasn't at you we was laffin', boson." + +"Well, see that yer don't, yer cross-eyed whelps--see that yer don't." + +"And do you mean to say, you collection of squashes, that you were +laughing at me?" The pump-man, still grasping a wrench in each hand, +started across the deck after them. "D'y' mean to--" + +Down the gangway they retreated in a body. Noyes looked to the captain, +but the captain was looking out over the ship's side. + +Noyes went down to luncheon, and after luncheon took his cigar and his +book to his room. When next he came out, he felt that something had +happened since the little adventure of the falling block. The captain +was pacing the bridge by fits and starts. The boson was leaning over the +quarter-rail. The pump-man was busy on a small job forward. + +The quiet was unnatural. Noyes decided to take his constitutional on +the long gangway of the main deck. As he paced aft he saw that some of +the crew were laying the hatches on one of the tanks. He paced forward. +By the time he was aft again they were overhauling a large tarpaulin. He +watched them while they stretched it over the hatch covers. He wondered +what they were about, for the tanks of an empty oil ship are usually +left open in fine weather. + +Presently he heard one of the men say to another as they stamped down +the tarpaulined hatch, "There--there's as good a prize ring as a man'd +want." And then he began to understand. + +He stayed aft, while through the smoke of one long cigar he thought it +out. When he next went forward he stopped beside the pump-man, who was +cutting a thread on a section of deck-piping. "Do you mind my watching +how you do that trick?" he asked. + +The pump-man looked up. "Surely not," adding after a moment, "though +there's nothing much worth watching to it." + +Noyes noticed how deftly the tools were handled. Then he said, "So you +and the big fellow are going to have it out?" + +"Yes, during dinner we agreed to settle it." + +"But he's a notorious bruiser--liable to kill you." + +"Maybe, but I don't think so. I've trimmed 'em bigger." + +"Not bigger, if they could fight at all?" + +"Maybe they couldn't, but"--from beneath the grease and soot of his face +his teeth and eyes flashed swiftly upward--"they said they could." + +Noyes took another turn of the long gangway. The tarpaulin was now +clamped tightly to the hatch-combings, rendering it smooth and firm +under foot. Camp-stools for the principals were also there, and two +buckets of freshly drawn water in opposite corners. + +"Mr. Kieran"--Noyes had halted again beside the pump-man--"what is it +the captain's got against you?" + +"Why"--he hesitated--"I don't think he's got anything against me +exactly." His next words came slowly, thoughtfully. "He may have +something against my kind, though." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Well, you see, a man of the captain's kind can never get a man of my +kind to play his game--and he knows it. What he wants around here is a +lot of poor slobs who will take the kicks and curses and poor grub, say +thank you, sir, and come again." + +"But what game does he want you to play?" + +"Well, I'm the pump-man. The ship has big bills for valving and piping +and repairing. If ever the office got suspicious and called me in on +it, why--" he shrugged his shoulders. + +Noyes studied the sea for a while. By and by he faced inboard. "Kieran, +I've seen ships before, even if I do get sea-sick sometimes. Was that an +accident to-day, that block dropping on you--almost?" + +"Accident?" The recurring smile flashed anew. "That's the third I've +side-stepped in two days. I was in the bottom of a tank yesterday when a +little hammer weighing about ten pounds happened to fall in. In the old +clipper-ship days, Mr. Noyes, a great trick was to send a man out on the +end of a yard in heavy weather and get the man at the wheel to snap him +overboard. On steamers, of course, we have no yards, and so little items +like spanners and wrenches and three-sheaved blocks fall from aloft. But +that's all right." The pump-man, all the while he was talking, kept +fitting his dies and cutting his threads. "I've got no kick coming. I +came aboard this ship with my eyes open, and I'm keeping 'em open"--he +laughed softly--"so I won't be carried ashore with 'em closed." + +Noyes took a close look at the pump-man. The trick of light speech, his +casual manner in speaking of serious things, was not unbecoming, but +this was a more purposeful sort of person than he had reckoned; a more +set man physically, a more serious man morally, than he had thought. +There was more beef to him, too, than ever he guessed; and the face was +less oval, the jaw more heavily hung. The under teeth, biting upward, +were well outside the upper. + +"But the bosun--he's altogether too huge," mused Noyes. He threw away +his cigar. "Kieran, you're too good a man to be manhandled by that +brute. You say so, and I'll stop the fight. I've got influence in the +office, and I think I could present the matter to the captain so that he +will pull the bosun off." + +"Thank you, Mr. Noyes, but you mustn't. I'd rather get beat to a pulp +than crawl. All I ask is that nobody reaches over and taps me on the +back of the skull with a four-pound hammer or some other useful little +article while I'm busy with him." + +"And when is it coming off?" + +"Soon's we go off watch--eight bells." + +"Eight bells? Four o'clock." Noyes drew out his watch. "Why, it's nine +minutes to that now." + +"So near? Then I'd better begin to knock off, if I'm going to wash off +and be ready in time, hadn't I?" He finished his thread, gathered up his +stock and dies, and strolled off. + +Noyes headed for the bridge. The captain's glance, as he came up the +ladder, was not at all encouraging; but Noyes was already weary of the +captain's hectoring glances. + +"Captain, are you going to let it go on?" he asked, and not too +deferentially. + +"Let what go on?" + +"That fight. They're going to have it out in a few minutes. Aft +there--look." + +"I'm not looking. And I'll take good care I don't--not in that +direction. And what I don't see I can't stop, can I? Besides, I hope he +beats that pump-man to a jelly." + +"Why, what's wrong with him?" + +"Wrong? He's dangerous." + +"Dangerous?" + +"Dangerous, yes. Why, look at the mop of hair and the eyes of him. He's +one of those trouble-hunters, that chap. And if troubles don't turn up +naturally, he'll go out and dig them up. He's like one of those kind I +read about once--used to live a thousand years ago. All he needs is a +horse seventeen hands high, and a wash-boiler on his chest, and a tin +kettle on his head, and one of those long lances, and he'd go tilting +about the country like that Don Quick-sote--" + +"Don what?" + +"Quick-sote--Quick-sote. That crazy Spaniard who went butting up against +windmills in that book of yours you leave around the cabin. A good name +for him--Don John Quick-sote--running around buttin' into things he +can't straighten out." + +"He could do all that and yet be the best kind of a man. And the +bosun--why, before I ever heard the name of this ship, I'd heard of her +bosun. He's a notorious brute." + +"He's the kind of a brute I want to have around. He will do what I order +him." + +"Did you order him to bring on this fight?" + +"And if I did, what of it? Do I have to account to you for what I do on +my ship? That pump-man is dangerous, I tell you. Why, just before we +sailed, I was telephoning over to the office to find out how he happened +to be shipped, and a clerk--" + +"The second clerk, was it?" + +"What does it matter who it was? He said to watch out for him, too--that +he was the kind who knew it all. Wherever the office got him I don't +know. And if you know anybody in the office with a pull, you ought to +put it up to them, Mr. Noyes, when you go back. This pump-man, he's the +kind recognizes no authority." + +"Why, I thought he was very respectful toward your officers. And he +seems to do his work on the jump, too, captain." + +"He carries out orders, yes; but if he felt like it, he'd tell me to go +to hell as quick as he'd tell the bosun. I can see it in his eye." + +"Don't you think he only wants to be treated with respect?" + +"Treated with respect! Who do you think you're talkin' to--the cook? I +don't have to treat one of my crew with respect. I'm captain of my own +ship, do you hear?--captain of this ship, and I'll treat the crew as I +damn please." + +"I guess you will, too; but don't swear at me, captain. I'm not one of +your crew." + +Noyes descended to the chart-room deck. "I wish," he breathed, "that +that pump-man had never seen this ship. They'll kill him before the +day's over." + + +III + +The after-rail of the chart-room deck looked almost directly down the +hatch whereon the fight was to take place. As Noyes was taking his +position by the rail he guessed that the bosun must have just said +something which pleased the crew, for most of them were still laughing +heartily. + +Kieran, on a camp-stool, waited for the laughter to simmer down. He +fixed a mocking eye on the bosun. "And so you're a whale, eh? And you'll +learn me what a whale can do to little fishes? Well, let me tell you +something about a whale, son. A whale is a sure enough big creature, but +I never heard he was a fighting fish before. Now, if you knew more +about some things, you'd never called yourself a whale, but a thrasher. +There's the best fighting fish of them all--the thrasher. The thrasher's +the boy with the wallop. He's the boy that chases the whale, and leaps +high out of the water, and snaps his long, limber tail, and bam! down he +comes on that big slob of a whale and breaks his back. All the wise old +whales, they take to deep water when they see a thrasher hunting +trouble. It's the foolish young whales that don't know enough to let the +thrasher alone." + +Noyes noted that the crew laughed more loudly at the bosun's rough jeers +than at the more sharply pointed comment of the pump-man. But looking +them over, he began to understand; these men were nearer to the bosun's +type than the pump-man's. And also, no crew could long remain ignorant +of which it was the captain favored. If the pump-man won, they would +benefit by it, whether they were with him or no--some selfish instinct +in them taught them that; while if the bosun were to win (and who could +doubt that, looking at the two men?), why, 'twould be just as well to +fly their colors early. + +Yet there were those who favored the game-looking pump-man. Two or three +had the courage to say so. It was these who cried out to give him fair +play when some ten or a dozen were for rushing him off the hatch before +the fight had begun at all. + +Kieran thanked these with a grateful look. "That's all I want--fair +play. Keep off the hatch and give us room to move around in." + +And yet it did seem for a moment as if the pump-man was to get no fair +play, as if the bosun's adherents would overwhelm him as he stood there +on the hatch. And Noyes experienced an unpleasant chill and began to +appreciate the nerve of this man who defied a crowd of alien spirits +aboard a strange ship. It was more than physical courage, and when they +were making ugly demonstrations toward the pump-man it was in pure +admiration of his nerve that Noyes called out: "Hold up--fair play! Fair +play, I say--he's only one." + +Coming from the passenger, it was the psychological act at the +psychological moment. They drew back, and Kieran, looking up, put his +thanks in his look. + +The two men faced each other. Kieran eyed the other critically. Up and +down, from toe to crown, he estimated his bulk; and then, taking a step +to one side, he eyed him once more, as if to get the exact depth of him. + +"Well," said the bosun, and harking to his rising voice, his growling +adherents simmered to silence, "now yer've seen me, what d'yer think?" + +"I've seen 'em just as big, hulks of full your length and beam and +draught, and in a breeze I've seen vessels of less tonnage make 'em +shorten sail." + +"And so yer've been in the wind-jammin' line, huh?" + +"That and a few others," answered Kieran tranquilly. + +"Yer'll understand a talk then. An' here's a craft won't take any sail +in before you. And yer quite a hulk in the water yourself, now yer've +come out where we c'n get a peek at yer." + +"You ought to see me when I'm hauled out on the ways," retorted Kieran. +"A fair little hulk out of water I may be, but it's below the +water-line, like every good ship, I get my real bearings. But shall we +get to business? I've been hearing about you for years. And for what +you're going to do to me since I've come aboard--" Kieran threw up his +hands. "Oh, Lord, they tell me you drove your naked fist through the +wall of a saloon up on West Street before the ship put out." + +"Yes, an' I can drive it through the side of you to-day." + +"Man! and I'm not wall-sided either. You must be a hellion. But"--to +Kieran's ears had come the sound of muttering in the crowd--"shall we +get at it? We ought to make a good match of it. You may be a bit the +bigger, but no matter. Three or four inches in height and sixty or +seventy pounds, what's that? What d'you say?"--he turned to the +crew--"he's big enough to pull a mast down on deck. Are the two of us to +settle it here without interference? In the old days men fought so, the +champions in front of the armies, and the winning man allowed to ride +back unharmed to his comrades." + +That picture, as the wily and eloquent pump-man painted it, impressed +them. And he looked so frail beside the bosun! They drew well back now; +all but one, the crafty carpenter, crony of the bosun and eager tool of +the captain. There was that in the pump-man's eyes--the carpenter +stepped to the big man's shoulder. "Listen to me. This man's no +innercent. I've seen his picter somewheres." + +"An' he'll see something of me in a minute, an' more than a picksher. Go +away!" The boson shoved the carpenter aside. + +"What I like about you, bosun"--Kieran, having shed his dungaree coat, +stood now for a moment with a hand resting easily to either side of his +waist--"and it sticks out all over you, is your love of a fight. +And"--under his breath this, so only the bosun could hear it--"I'm going +to satisfy that love of yours to-day so you'll stop your ears up if ever +again you hear a man even whisper fight. Yes"--drawing off his +undershirt, cinching his trousers straps above his hips, and resuming +his easy speech--"I do love a real fighting man. But your friends"--he +waved his hand toward the crew--"they must all stand that side. I want +no man between me and the rail this side, no man behind me. 'Tisn't +fair." He turned to them. "Play me fair in that. I'm giving your man the +slope of the hatch, and he's tall enough in all conscience without. So +let no man stand behind me." + +The arms and torso of the pump-man, as he stood there naked to the +waist, amazed Noyes. It surprised them all. He had seemed only a +medium-sized man under the concealing dungarees. Noyes saw now that he +was a bigger man by fifteen or twenty pounds than he had had any idea +of; and were he padded with twenty pounds more, he would still be in +good condition. Not a lump anywhere; not a trace of a bulging muscle, +except that when he flexed his arm or worked his shoulders by way of +loosening them up he started little ripples that ran like mice from neck +to loins under the skin; and when, with this shoulder movement, he +combined a rapid leg motion, Noyes fancied he could trace the play of +muscle clear to his heels. His skin, too, had the unspotted gleaming +whiteness of high vitality. + +"He's a reg'lar race horse--a tiger," burst out from one admirer in the +crowd. + +The bosun, also stripped of his upper garments, looked all of his great +size, and, moving about, showed himself not altogether lacking in +agility. Lively, indeed, he was for his immense bulk, although, compared +to the pump-man in that, he was like a moose beside a panther. "It ain't +goin' to be so one-sided after all," whispered some one loudly, and +recalled the pump-man's leaping across the hatch that very morning. And +now, as he ducked and turned, seeming never to lack breath for easy +speech, there were others who were beginning to believe it would not be +so one-sided either. + +"Speaking of wind-jammers, I remember"--the bosun had rushed past him +like a charging elephant--"hearing my old grandfather tell of seeing a +three-decker manoeuvring once. She'd come into stays about the middle of +the morning watch, he said, and maybe toward three bells in the second +dogwatch they'd have her on the other tack. A ship of the old line she +was, a terrible fighter, if only fighting was done from moorings; but +there were little devils of frigates kept sailing 'round and 'round her. +What? Why don't I stand up? Stand up, is it? Why, man, I don't see where +I've been hove-down yet. Hove-down, no, nor wet my rail yet. And is it +you or I is fighting this end of it? Is it?"--a subtle threat with his +left, one cunning feint of his right, one whip-like inboring of the left +hand, and up came the bosun all-standing. + +"You're easy luffed," jeered Kieran. "A moment ago you were drawing like +a square-rigger before a quartering gale, and now you're shaking in the +wind--yes, and likely to be aback, if you don't watch out." + +The teeth locked in the bosun's head--so hard a jolt for so smoothly +delivered a blow! He gazed amazed. Again a deceptive swing or two, a +fiddling with one hand and the other, a moment of rapid foot-work, a +quick side-step, and biff! Kieran's left went into the ribs--crack! and +Kieran's right caught him on the cheek-bone and laid it open as if hit +with a cleaver. + +"Devil take it!" exploded Kieran, "I meant that for your jaw. It's this +slippery tarpaulin." He slid his foot back and forth on the black-tarred +canvas. "The cook's been dropping some of his slush on it, and you, +bosun, didn't see to it that it was cleaned. You ought to look after +those little things or the skipper'll be having you up to the bridge. +But, come now, just once more"--he curved his left forearm +persuasively--"once more and--" + +But having caught the flame in the eye that never once looked away from +his, the bosun wanted no more of that long-range work. It must be close +quarters thereafter, or he foresaw disgrace. He appealed to the men at +his back. "He won't stand up like a man. He leaps around like a bloody +monkey." + +"That's right, bosun. Stand up to him there, you!" That was the +carpenter's voice. And others followed. 'Twasn't so men'd been used to +fightin' on oil-tankers. No, sir. "Stand to him breast to breast!" The +carpenter led further clamorous voices. + +"Aye, breast to breast be it." Kieran was standing at ease. "And yet you +all been telling how he drove his fist through a pine plank the other +day up on the New York water-front." + +"Yes, an' I c'n drive it through you, if yer come close to me." + +"Close to you? Is this close enough to you?" No more side-stepping, no +more swift shifting--just a straight step in, and they were clinched. +With arms wrapped around the body of the other, each an inside and +outside hold, and fingers locked in the small of the other's back, they +were at it. One tentative tug and haul and the bosun began to see that +he would need all his strength for this man. Another long-drawn tug and +he began to fear the outcome. Again, and in place of his foe coming to +him, it was his own waist he felt drawn forward. Slowly he felt his head +falling back, and gradually his shoulders followed. In toward Kieran +came the hollow of the big man's back, and the big man knew he had met +his master; and, bitterest of all, this man poured galling words into +his ear as he bore him back; gibing words, in so low a voice that they +reached no further than the ear for which they were intended. + +"Your own favorite Cumberland grip--where's the whale strength of you +now, Bruiser Bill--your buffalo rush, hah? It's my weakness to make a +show of you here on this deck--you, my Bruising Bill, the boastful lump +of muscle that you are. Just muscle, no more. And now where are +you--where, I say?" + +The long, smooth muscles of Kieran's back were gathering and swelling. +His waist, contrasted with the splendid development under his shoulders, +looked slim as a corseted girl's; and not Noyes alone was noting them. +Every muscle in the smooth-skinned body--it seemed as if he drew them +from his very toes for service in that hug. + +The bosun's breath was coming in labored gasps, yet still that terrible +man kept holding him close, drawing his waist to him and increasing his +pressure as he drew. "You've the tonnage and engine-room of a +battleship," jeered Kieran, "but you've only the steam of an East River +tug. And a low-pressure tug at that. And what little steam you had is +gone. You've a big engine but no boiler. And you know what use an engine +is without a boiler, don't you? Well, that's you, son--your steam's +gone." + +The swimming head kept falling backward toward the ground. And for +Kieran, as he felt his enemy weaken, the purple lights were flashing +again. The call of battle was ringing in his ears; came back to him the +memory of more careless days, when he lived for this kind of thing. +After all, what was life but a means whereby to give one's spirit play? +And yet again--and yet--was he no more than a brute himself? What was +the use? What good would it all do? And suddenly he loosed his grip, and +the inert body of the bosun rolled down the tarpaulined hatch and onto +the steel deck. + +Noyes found himself gasping, almost as if he were in the fight himself. +Then he noted that Kieran had raised his hand and was addressing the +crew. "Holdup! You said the fight would settle it. Mind your words +now--fair play for one against you all. Fair play, I say," and they +might have scattered before this blazing, fighting pump-man in the full +lust of his power but for the carpenter, who poised a hammer to throw. +"What! you would!" yelled Kieran. A leap, a pass, and his fist smashed +into the lowering face. Over keeled the carpenter, a tall man, like a +falling spar. + +"Put that man in irons!" Noyes jumped at the voice. The captain was +leaning over the rail beside him. + + +IV + +"Irons?" The pump-man's head went into the air. For a moment he stood +poised on the hatch like a statue. "Irons?" His face paled and hardened +and his arms stiffened; but instantaneously, as half a dozen reached out +to seize him, he ducked and twisted and side-stepped, and two, who could +not be avoided, he knocked swiftly out of his way. He cracked a fist +into one face, then the other. There was no malice in it; they simply +barred his way to freedom. He leaped from combing to combing of the open +hatches. It was thirty feet to the bottom of any one of these empty +tanks, and those who followed did so at creeping speed. + +He was clear of the mob. A light bound and he was on the ship's rail +beside the after-rigging. + +The captain, leaning as far out as the chart deck would allow, shook a +raging arm at Kieran. "You'll assault, you'll batter my men right and +left, will you, you crazy mutineer?" + +"Don't call me a mutineer, captain--I've disobeyed no order." + +"You are a mutineer. I declare you one now. And you'll go into irons." + +"You'll never put me in irons." + +"You'll go into irons or you'll go over the side." + +[Illustration: "Don't call me a mutineer, captain--I've disobeyed no +order"] + +"Well, maybe I'll go over the side. But before I go, if I have to go, +I'll have a word to say. You've been trying to break my nerve from the +beginning. I know your kind that bully and starve your crew, and won't +have a man on your ship that you can't bully and starve. And so you set +your bully bosun to do me--do me to death, if he had to. And when he's +not clever enough nor able enough, you'd put me in irons--in irons here +on the high seas--out here where no law can get you!" + +The first officer was now on the deck beneath the pump-man. "You'd +better come down, Kieran. It will be the safest way in the end." + +"Mr. Brown, you're a good officer, and I don't want to cross you, but +you're not going to put me in irons." + +The ship was rolling gently. Kieran rested one hand lightly, by way of +balance, on a stay, and kicked his shoes overboard. "A step nearer, Mr. +Brown, and I go after the shoes." + +"But it's five miles to the Florida shore, Kieran, and alive with +sharks. You'd never make it. Come on now." + +"No. Five miles or fifty, I'll have a try at it." + +Noyes now laid a warning hand on the captain's arm. "Are you going to +insist on putting that man in irons?" + +"I am. And stand clear of me, you." + +"If you try to, he'll jump overboard." + +"And if he does, what of it?" + +"If he does, there'll be a bad time ahead for you." + +"There will? There's liable to be a bad time for you right now. Do you +know you have no rights on this ship unless I say so? Don't you know I +can put you in irons, too--that's marine law--if I feel like it?" + +"I know what maritime law is. And that's the devil of it when there's a +brute on the bridge. You can put me in irons if you want to, but I don't +think you will." + +"So?" sneered the captain. "I won't? And why not?" + +"Because I'm no friendless seafarer. And also because--here's my card. +Read it. It's the card of your boss, the man who can hire or fire you, +or any other man or officer of this line. And I don't have to give you a +reason unless it pleases me. But I'll give a reason at the right +time--in your case. And the reason will leave you where you'll never +again set foot on the deck of any ship of this line or of a good many +other lines." + +The captain had set his back to the rail and bared his teeth. Noyes, +thinking he was about to spring, braced his feet and waited. Noyes +himself was no angelic-looking creature at the moment. His jaw seemed to +shoot forward, his eyes to contract and recede. + +"And so that's who you are, is it? And you'd break me?" + +"Break you, yes. And perhaps put you in jail before I'm done with you. +Now will you put him in irons?" + +The captain did not spring. He walked to his room instead. And he gave +out no order just then; but soon the mess-boy came out and whispered to +the first officer, and the first officer said, "Kieran, you're to return +to duty," and pocketed his irons and called off the men. + +It was an hour after the fight. Kieran had had time to clean up, and +now, with the passenger, he was pacing the long gangway. + +"And would you have gone over the side?" the passenger had asked. + +"I guess I'd had to, wouldn't I?" + +"And would you have reached shore?" + +"Why not? Five miles--it's not much in smooth water." + +"But the sharks?" + +"Sharks? Black boys in West Indian ports will dive all day among them +for coppers. Sharks and whales--writers of sea stories certainly ought +to pension them. There may have been a shark who once made a meal off a +sailor, but let you or me drop over the side, and if there's one +anywhere near, he wouldn't stop racing till he was a mile away, and if +any harmless slob of a whale ever killed a sailor, be sure he did it +through fright. But that's no matter. What does matter, though"--Kieran +halted and faced the passenger--"are the men who did go over the side, +and not within swimming distance of any pleasant sandy beach either. +'Tisn't every protesting seaman who finds the boss of the line on deck +to back him up. And, what's harder, how about the men who never had the +choice of going over the side? And think of the poor creatures who got +so that in time they didn't even want to go over the side, who might +have grown into honest, free men, but who, instead of that, learned only +to live for the day when they too would have the power to make their +inferiors stand around and cringe and whine." + +They paced the length of the deck twice before Kieran spoke again. + +"They wonder at the decay of our merchant marine. I wonder did they ever +stop to think of what men--seamen--think of the service? In the days of +sailing ships a man going to sea met with real danger and hardship, and +they developed courage and skill and character of some kind. What +training does he get to take the place of that now? He's a hand +nowadays, a helper, a lumper--not a sailor--on a great big hulk to which +disaster is almost impossible." + +"But disasters do happen." + +"They do, but what is the truth about them? Nine out of ten of them have +a disgraceful cause. But the public doesn't hear of that, because the +public doesn't go to sea--except as a saloon passenger. The public gets +its story from the steamship company's office--always, and you know what +kind of a story they put out--put out through newspapers that carry +their advertising. You know what that chief clerk or that second clerk +of yours would tell any inquiring outsider in case of a loss of life on +one of these ships. He'd lie and lie and lie and lie and think he was +serving a good cause at that, and the papers publishing the lie would +think they were serving a good cause, too--especially the constructive +organization papers, as they call themselves. Our big steamship officers +these days--outside of the navy--don't get the kind of work that keeps +men up to the mark, and not getting it they grow soft--their bodies and +their souls become flabby. Engineer officers nowadays have the work cut +out for them and they are doing good work, but the bridge officers are +no longer men of the sea--they're clerks, agents in floating hotels. And +the crew take their tone from the officers. When the commander's weak, +your whole outfit is apt to weaken, especially under a strain." + +They resumed their pacing, Kieran with head high in the air, inhaling +deep breaths of the fresh salt air. + +The passenger came out of a deep meditation. "Kieran, you can do a good +work for us. Is there any berth with this line you'd like to have? If +there is, say so. You can have it. You can have that head clerk's job if +you want it. And I think that after a while I could get you mine, for +I'm only there to fill a gap." + +Kieran shook his head. "It wouldn't do." + +"Why not? You're the man for the job." + +"No, I'm not the man. You haven't got me quite right. I can point out +errors, but I'm not the man to correct them. I'm not a good executive." + +"You certainly were the good executive in the bosun's case." + +"N-no, no. You mustn't count him. If he was a John L. Sullivan, say, in +his good days, it would prove something. Besides, I don't care for +fighting--for beating people up. I do hate though to see a bully or a +faker getting the best of it, and maybe having had time to knock around +and study people, I can pick out a bully or a faker quicker than most +people, and seeing somebody getting too much the best of it, why, +sometimes I can't help butting in." + +"And because of that faculty of seeing things, once you made up your +mind to settle down to it, you'd make good on this job I'm offering +you." + +"No, you've got me wrong again. I'm not a reformer, and never will be, +I hope. Reformers, or most that ever I met, are only men who first tried +to play politics and got licked at it. I'm only an observer." + +"But you like a fight?" + +"M-m-m-n not me. And I never did. Any man, of course, likes the +excitement once he's into it, but what man enjoys smashing another man +in the face? What fights I've been into I couldn't side-step--not +without crawling, I mean. No, no, I wouldn't make good on your job. I'd +go along all right in your office back in New York for awhile,--for a +month, two months, six months,--who knows, maybe a year, and then one +day I'd look out the window, take a look down on the Battery, say at the +elevated railroad or the Aquarium Building, and the Coney Island steamer +dock with the barkers yelling and gesturing, and the loafers on the +benches in between, and from that I'd look down the bay and see the +Statue of Liberty--some morning that would be, maybe, when the sun was +lighting up New York Bay as it does some mornings, or maybe it would be +on a late afternoon, with the sun setting over on the Jersey shore, the +dark smoke from a hundred chimneys smooching across the pink and purple +of it, and, if 'twas summer, a haze like a bridal veil over it all, and +between that and the Battery the life of a hundred craft--ferry-boats, +tow-boats, lighters, windjammers, steam-yachts, ocean-liners, harbor, +coastwise and foreign bound, a hundred different kinds coming and going, +the Lord knows where, but to where no four walls will bound 'em for a +time, be sure of that. And if ever I did look and looked long enough, be +sure the earth would look like it was rolling by too slow and I'd want +to get out and give it a push to speed it up. No, no. That"--he looked +up at the serene blue--"for my ceiling. And that"--he pointed to the +dimpling green sea--"for my office floor. And that"--he waved a hand to +space--"for a window. And let all the bruising bosuns and bucko ship's +officers afloat jump on me, but give me that and I'll take a chance. +And--" + +He stopped short and sighed. "I do get going sometimes, don't I?" He +looked around the deck. In a bucket of water by the rail the bosun was +bathing his battered features. "The bosun reminds me. To-day I promised +him I'd finish my Flying Walrus song." + +"Go ahead and finish it--that first verse was pretty good." + +"The second's better--or I think so. And"--he grinned at the +passenger--"I composed it myself, too, to an air running in my head. And +I suppose I ought to finish it. And yet"--the bosun was pouring, very +quietly, his bucket of wash water into the scuppers--"that would be +sort of rubbing it in, wouldn't it?" + +"What of it? It will do them all good." + +"I don't know about that. If it"--and just then three bells struck, and +three bells on the _Rapidan_ meant supper for the watch below. + +Kieran left to go to supper, and the passenger noted the deference of +the crew toward him. Not one who found himself in his way but hopped +swiftly aside to give him gangway. + +"How conducive to high judgment, how accelerating to respect is +success," mused the passenger. "Two hours ago hardly one of them who did +not set him down for a half-crazy, or, at least, an over-sanguine +visionary--but now--they bound like stags before him, and none more +propitiatingly agile than the former satellites of our deposed bosun. A +Don Quixote"--murmured the passenger--"maybe, but a 20th century Don +Quixote--with a wallop in each hand. If the Don Quixotes generally had +his equipment, it would not be windmills alone which would suffer, and +some joy then for honest men to watch the tilting." + + + + +Jan Tingloff + + +THE LODGING HOUSE + +Jan Tingloff, not wishing to get too far away from the dry dock, turned +up a side street near the water-front, and there, in a basement window +of a narrow four-story brick building, he saw the sign "Furnished Room +to Rent." + +A second look showed Jan that the basement also afforded an entrance to +a not too well lit pool-room and that a not overclean alley ran up one +side of the building. Jan, with no prejudices against alleys or +pool-rooms, entered the pool-room to inquire. "Yeh," said the man behind +the cigar-case--"second floor--a week in advance--ring the front-door +bell--a woman will come and show you." + +A woman who preceded him like a discouraged shadow showed him the room, +but it was to the man in the basement that she told Jan to pay the +week's rent when he said he would take the room. "Yes; I take the +rent--always," this man said; and his eyes brightened as Jan pushed the +money across the cigar-case at him. And he wore finger-rings out of all +keeping with the dark little place; but he had a pleasant smile for Jan +and Jan smiled back at him; for Jan was one of those friendly natures +who prefer to be pleasant, even to men whose looks they do not like. + +Jan Tingloff slept in his new quarters that night. He saw nobody +connected with the house as he passed out in the morning; but that +evening as he entered the front-door he heard a cough. It was a woman's +cough and dimly he saw a woman's form--a rather slender form. Jan's +senses were the kind which see a thing large at first and then go back +for details. He hurried to close the door so that the cold November wind +would not endanger the poor creature further. As he closed the door she +said: + +"Good evening." + +Jan hurried to take off his hat. + +"Good evening, ma'am." + +"You go off early mornings, captain?" + +"Yes, ma'am." He peered into the twilight of the hall and saw a hand +lighting the suspension lamp. "But I'm not a captain, ma'am. I was a +seafaring man one time; but I am a ship-carpenter now in a repairing job +on a big coaster in the dry dock, and I have to be over there early to +get my gang started." + +She was turning the wick of the lamp high and then low, and high again, +and Jan was vexed to think he had not offered to light the lamp for her +in the first place, especially as he now recognized in her the same +sad-eyed woman who had showed him his room the evening before. It was +twilight then, too, but she had lit no lamp in the hall or in the room, +and Jan guessed why and did not blame her for it. The furnishings here, +as in his room, were shabby. + +Jan began to feel a pity for her. There was that in the curve of her +back which caused him to address her with unwonted gentleness--and +ordinarily Jan was gentle enough for anybody's taste. Yes, she was the +same woman; but if he had met her anywhere else he would not have known +her. She was now all tidied up. Her clothes were fresh, her shoulders +had lost their droop. Her face was less pale and a glow was coming into +her eyes. + +Jan's room was on the second floor and now he ascended the stairs to go +there. At the top of the stairs he glanced back; but catching her +looking at him he looked quickly away. From the darkness of the +second-floor hallway, however, he could peer down and she could not see +him. She was still there, standing under the lamp which was now at full +blaze. One arm had been raised high in regulation of the wick and now +she raised the other to steady the lamp, which was swinging. Her figure +was in the shadow from the waist down, but her bust, her neck, face and +long, slim hands were in full light. + +"I'd never took her for the same woman--never!" thought Jan. + +Next evening Jan saw her again, this time in the narrow second-floor +hallway near the stairs. She shrank against the stair-rail to let him +pass. Jan drew up against the wall. She mutely indicated that he should +pass. + +"After you, ma'am," said Jan, and resolutely waited. + +"Thank you," she said, and passed on. At the head of the flight of +stairs she turned her head. Jan was still there. + +"Is your room all right?" She asked the question hurriedly, awkwardly. + +"All right, ma'am." + +"And not too noisy for you here?--the basement noise, I mean." + +"A ship-carpenter, ma'am--he soon gets used to noise." + +"Of course." She glanced furtively at him. "Good-night." She hurried +downstairs. + +That night when Jan, who read romantic fiction to relieve his +loneliness, laid down his stirring mediaeval tale to go to bed, he did +not follow up the intention with immediate action, as usual. + +By and by he raised the window-sash, and the cool, damp sea-air feeling +good, he leaned out to enjoy it. It was a cloudy night, with a touch of +coming snow in the air; but for all that a night to enjoy, only for the +racket ascending from the pool-room. + +"I don't think much of those people down there," thought Jan as he +lowered the sash to all but six or eight inches for fresh air and picked +up the alarm clock from the rickety dresser. "I wonder if she's one of +that crowd?" And he began to wind the clock. "But sure she ain't--sure +not." + +Jan had been holding the clock absently in his hand. Suddenly he set it +down and scolded himself--"Jan Tingloff, remember you has to be up at +six in the morning!"--and undressed, blew out the light and slid into +bed, and tried to go to sleep. And he did after a while; but his last +thought before he fell into slumber was: "Who'd ever think one day a +woman could grow so young-looking the next day?" + +Many an evening after that Jan met the landlady on the stairs or in the +hall, and always she stopped to ask him how he was coming on with his +ship; but never any more than that or a brief word as to the weather and +his comfort, though there were times when Jan felt he would like to +become better acquainted--times when he even had a feeling that if he +had asked her to sit down somewhere for a talk she would be willing. Jan +had learned, however, that she was married. It had been a shock to learn +that. It had come about by his noticing after three or four days the +plain gold ring on the wedding finger. He had kept staring at it until +she could not help remarking it; and by and by, in a casual sort of way, +she had told him she was married. + +"And is your husband living, ma'am?" asked Jan. + +"He's living--yes," she answered slowly. + +That made a difference. Even though a man didn't know anybody in the +city except the men he worked with and it was terribly lonesome of +evenings--even so, her being married made all the difference. And she +must have been a wonderfully pretty girl once--and was pretty yet, now +he had a chance to look good at her. Pretty--yes; but--well, Jan didn't +know what it was, except that she was all right. Jan knew he didn't know +much about women, especially strange women--and he knew, too, that he +never would; but he would never believe she wasn't all right--never! + +Yes, it was pretty lonesome at times; and there was the girl who roomed +on the top floor. Jan was thrilled by alluring glimpses of her in the +half-dark recesses of the back halls, but the glimpses remained only +glimpses after he saw her one Sunday by daylight. Only then was Jan +convinced that she painted. She was a little too much and he took to +dodging her. Yet it was a pity--oh, a pity! and Jan, still thinking what +a pity, was going out for a lonesome walk one night, when who should +meet him on the front stoop but that same top-floor girl! And no sliding +by her this time. She nipped the lapel of his coat with a dexterous +thumb and forefinger. + +"Why, hello, cap! Where yuh goin'?" + +"Nowheres." + +"Then you got time, ain't you, to buy a girl a glass o'--" She stopped +and winked sportively. + +"Glass o' what?" + +"Why, ginger ale!" She laughed at his surprise. "You thought I was goin' +to say beer, or maybe somethin' stronger, didn't yuh? But I don't drink +no hard stuff. No. An' I was dyin' for a drink o' somethin' when yuh +pops out that door. An' I know yuh ain't any hinge." + +"How do you know I ain't a hinge?" + +"Oh, don't I? Leave it to me to pick a sport from a piker." + +"But I'm no sport either." + +"You could if yuh wanted ter. An' yuh ain't any hinge, even if they do +say you're a square-head. Come on an' let's go in back an' have a couple +o' bottles o' ginger ale in Hen's place." + +And Jan followed her into the private room beyond the pool-room--the +room to which, as he had gathered before this, the street girls of that +section steered drunken sailors. The ginger ale was brought in by the +proprietor himself. Jan threw down a ten-dollar bill. Jan had a good +many bills with him that evening--his month's wages; and seeing it was +the fashion round there to show your money when you paid for anything, +why, he'd show them--even if he was a square-head--that he could carry a +wad too. + +"Say, cap, but yuh must be drawin' down good coin?" + +"Oh, a boss ship-carpenter gets pretty good wages." And with one +splendid sweep Jan emptied his glass. + +"I should say yes. An' there's tinhorners round here that if they had +half your wad Hen'd have to ring in the fire alarm to put 'em +out--they'd feel themselves such warm rags. But what d'yuh say to +another ginger ale?" + +"Sure," said Jan, and called aloud for them. And again Hen brought in +the ginger ale in two long glasses, but also with two empty bottles to +show Jan by the labels that it was the real imported and no phony stuff; +and Jan said, "I know! I know!" as he paid and waved Hen away. + +A door led from this back room into the lower back hall of the house, +and in the shadow of the back hall Jan thought for an instant that he +saw the landlady's figure; but he wasn't sure. Two minutes--or it may +have been five minutes--later, a boy whom Jan had noticed round the +house came into the room by way of that same door and said to the girl: + +"Mrs. Goles wants to see you a minute." + +"Tell her I got no minute to spare--not now." + +The boy went out and quickly came back. + +"Mrs. Goles says for you to come out and see her or she'll have the +policeman in off the beat. He's at the corner now." + +The girl went out. + +"Who's Mrs. Goles?" asked Jan of the boy. + +"Why, she's the landlady." + +"Oh!" said Jan. So that was her husband, the handsome proprietor with +the evil eyes. "Poor woman!" muttered Jan, and absent-mindedly drank his +ginger ale. + +The boy was still there. "Where is Mrs. Goles now?" asked Jan. + +The boy jerked his head. "Out there on the back stairs." + +Jan stood up. "Here!" He handed the boy a quarter. "A wonder a boy like +you hangs out round here!" + +"I run Mrs. Goles's errands. I been runnin' 'em since I was a kid. My +mother used to work for her mother. She was a lady." + +Jan was heading for the side door, the door which led into the alley. + +"Will I tell her you're comin' back, mister?" + +"Tell who?" + +"Why, that girl you was with." + +"Tell her nothing. Nor"--Jan nodded his head toward the pool-room--"him. +Better go home. This is no place for a good boy like you." + +Jan went out by the alley; and from there, after peeking to see that +nobody was looking out of the pool-room windows, he stepped quickly up +the front steps of the house. + +Cautiously he unlocked the door. He could hear voices, but not +distinctly. Quietly he tiptoed toward the head of the back stairs. It +was Mrs. Goles who was talking. + +"Didn't I warn you again and again never to bother him?" Jan heard. + +"An' why not?" + +"Why? He's a lodger--that's why." + +"Is that why? Say, but ain't you takin' an awful sudden interest in yer +lodgers though! Are yuh sure you don't want him for yerself? Are yuh +sure he ain't something more than a lodger?" + +"You--you--" + +"Me--me! Yes, me. D'yuh think I ain't been onto yuh? D'yuh think I ain't +seen any o' that billy-dooin'--you an' him upstairs in the +entryway--huh? An' d'yuh think Hen ain't wise too? D'yuh think he gave +me the top-floor room for nothin'--huh? Oh, yes; we're a couple o' +come-ons--Hen an' me--oh, yes! Run along now, Salomey--he's there, +waitin' for me. D'yuh hear--waitin' for me! They all fall when yuh play +'em right. All of 'em. Thought yuh had'm to yerself--huh? Well, guess +different next time; for he's out there waitin' for me--the soft-headed +Dutchman! Beat it! Beat it when yer gettin' the worst of it. An' talk +any more about a policeman--an' see what Hen says to it!" + +Jan could hear Mrs. Goles ascending the stairs behind him. He hurried +up, intending to get to his room and hide away before she knew, but it +was the last key of the bunch which fitted the lock, and before he had +the door opened she was up with him. + +She turned the hall light up to see him better. + +"Weren't you downstairs in the back room a minute ago?" she asked at +last. + +"I was; but--" Jan reached up a heavy hand and rubbed his forehead. "I +was--I know I was; but--" somehow he was feeling bewildered. + +She drew nearer to him. + +"Come nearer the light. Stand where the light will be on your face. Let +me see your eyes. There--you can't keep them open. Did you drink that +second glass of ginger ale--after it was brought in all opened up? +Never mind trying to speak--just bow your head. You did? Oh, you poor +innocent boy! Here--go into your room. And wait there. I'll be right +back. Light the lamp if you can while you're waiting." + +Jan managed to light the lamp. + +She was soon back with a bowl of something hot which she held to Jan's +lips--a nasty-tasting stuff. While he stopped once to get his breath she +stepped to the door, took the key from the outside and set it on the +inside. She stepped to Jan's side again. "Finish it!" she ordered. +"Every drop. There--but sh-h!--hear'em?" + +"Hear what, ma'am?" + +"The footsteps--coming upstairs. Creeping up. Hear 'em?" She stepped to +the light and blew it out. She stepped to the door and turned the key. + +"Oh-h!" Jan had fallen backward on the bed and now was rolling from side +to side. His stomach was griping him like a burning hand. + +"Hold in for a minute if you can!" she whispered + +Nausea uncontrollable, as it seemed to Jan, was taking hold of him when +a knock came on the door. "Sh-h!" she warned, and Jan controlled +himself. He wanted more than ever to vomit, but there came another knock +on the door--and another. And then the knob was turned. + +A silence then; and then a voice--a man's voice: "I told you you were +crazy. He felt dizzy and went out into the street for some fresh air. +You shouldn't 've left him once he got the stuff into him. Take a look +round the block. He's probably laying in the gutter somewhere with that +load into him." + +The voice stopped, footsteps followed, the stairs creaked. And Jan's +tortured stomach was allowed its relief. And while he retched in the +dark Mrs. Goles held his head and, soaking a towel in the water jar, +bathed his forehead and face and neck, and kept wetting the towel and +bathing his head with the cold water until at last, with a grateful +sigh, Jan stood up and said: + +"I think it's all gone now." + +"That's good. So I'll be leaving you. And you--" They had been talking +in whispers, but at this point her voice broke into a cough. When she +spoke again her voice was husky and pitched in a higher key. "But +you--listen! You must leave this house!" + +"Why must I leave?" + +"It's no place for you." + +"And is it for you, ma'am?" he asked her. + +"For me? No--nor for any woman. But I'm talking about you. +To-morrow--don't say a word to him downstairs--but to-morrow, when your +week's up, take your grip and walk out." + +"The day after to-morrow," amended Jan. "Tomorrow's Saturday and I has +to be at the dry dock. But what will become of you?" + +"There'll nothing become of me--no more than before." + +"He will beat you?" + +"Beat me! If he don't any more than beat me!" Jan fancied she was +smiling at him in the dark. "But I'd better go. Good-night." + +"Good-night," said Jan. "And I'll see you to-morrow to say good-by." + +"Yes," she said. "I'll be about. Good-night." + +"Good-night," said Jan again, and found himself standing at the door +after it had opened and closed behind her. + + * * * * * + +"I wonder," thought Jan, "if he will beat her!" And he stooped to lock +the door. His hand was on the key, but he did not turn it. Who was that? +Jan had keen hearing. He jammed his ear against the crack. It was the +sound of breathing, heavy breathing, of breathing and tramping, and +now--Jan had been listening for perhaps a minute--of suppressed voices. + +Jan stepped back to the washstand and poured out a glass of water. He +took it at a gulp. He had another. It was cold and bracing to his +fevered stomach. He stepped to the door, cautiously turned the knob and +slowly drew the door to him. He peeped out. + +Under the hall light he saw them--she jammed back against the stair-rail +and he with his hands at her throat. His back was to Jan. + +"Where is it? Come--give up!" he was saying. Jan could not hear what she +said; but the man took a fresh grip and shook her. "Don't tell me +anything like that! You gave in at last and got the money off him. Give +it up!" + +"I did not! I'm not that kind of a woman--not yet. I may be yet if you +keep on--but I'm not yet. And he's not that kind of a man." + +"You're not? And he's not? And you an hour in his room with the door +locked! You got money off him! Give it to me!" + +"N-no--no!" + +"You lie, you--" He shifted his grip to her hair and started to drag her +along the hall. + +Jan stepped softly out, reached his arms round Goles's shoulders, drew +them tight against his own chest; and then, holding him safe with his +elbows, he ran his fingers down until they felt the knuckles of the +other's hands. And then he squeezed. With thumb and forefinger of each +hand he squeezed. Jan could pick up a keg of copper rivets with one +thumb and forefinger and toss it across the deck of a ship. And now he +squeezed. Goles hung on. Jan squeezed. The knuckles began to crack. +"G-g-g--" snarled the other and loosed his grip. + +Jan relaxed the grip of his thumb and forefinger, swung the man round, +walked to the head of the stairs, raised his left knee, pressed it +against the small of Goles's back, shifted his right hand to behind the +man's shoulders and suddenly let knee and arm shoot out together. In one +magnificent curve, and without touching a step on the way, Goles fetched +up on the lower hall floor. + +He stood up after a while and made as if to come back upstairs. As he +did so Jan made as if to go down. + +Goles glared up at him. + +"So it is you!" + +"Yes, it's me," said Jan. "Come!" + +"Come? No! But you wait there, will you? Just wait there and see what +happens to you! Wait!" And even as he called that last "Wait!" he was +running for the back stairs. + +Jan turned to her. She was sitting on the floor with her back against +the stair-rail. Her knees were drawn up, and with elbows on knees she +was supporting her head in her hands. + +"Where is he gone to?" asked Jan. + +"I don't know--to get his revolver probably." + +Jan bent over to see her face. A great listlessness was all he could +read there. + +"Would he shoot? Did he ever shoot anybody?" + +"Yes--two. But the police never found out. You'd better get out while +there's time." + +"And won't he shoot you?" + +She raised her head to look at him. "No," she answered presently--"not +just now. He will some day--that's sure. He promised me that more than +once, and he means it; but I don't think he will to-night." + +"Then, if ever he meant it, he will to-night," said Jan. "I don't want +to get shot; and I'm going. You better come too." She shook her head. +"Yes," He put an arm under her shoulder. "Come." + +"No, no. I mustn't." + +"But you must." Jan put his other arm under her and lifted her to her +feet; but yet she lay heavy, half-resisting. "Come," said Jan. "I'll +take you out of here--to my mother." + +"Your mother?" she repeated, and straightened up; but almost instantly +fell back. "But we can't now!" she whispered. + +"Why?" whispered Jan. + +"It's too late. Hear him?" Jan heard steps on the landing below; and as +he listened and looked the light in the hall below went out. "You can't +get out the front door in time now," she said hopelessly. + +"There's more ways than front doors to get out of a house. And there's +lights to put out up here too." He reached up and turned down the +lamp-wick, then blew out the flame. "Come," he whispered, and led her +into his room and locked the door. + +He groped for the bed, tore off the sheets, twisted them tightly and +knotted them together. "There!" he said, and, taking a turn of it under +her arms, let her down from the window into the alley. Then he swept +into his suit-case a few things from the dresser and snapped it, and +dropped it out the window. + +He was about to fasten one end of the twisted sheets about the bedpost, +to let himself down; but hearing the door-knob slowly turning he did not +finish the job. He dropped the sheet, lowered himself by his hands from +the window-sill and let go. He landed without damage. + +"Come," he said, and led the way to the street. At the first corner he +turned. At the next corner he turned. At the third corner a cab was in +sight. He helped her in. + +"Do you know," Jan whispered to her, "a good hotel I could tell him to +drive to?" + +"With me looking as I am? Why, no. Tell him any hotel we can get into." + +Jan addressed the cabman. + +"I want"--he said it very distinctly, so that there could be no +mistake--"a good hotel to take a lady to." + +"A lady? An' a _good_ hotel? Sure thing. Jump in." + +Jan got in and sat opposite to her. She was restoring order to her hair. + +"Did the cabby laugh?" she asked. + +"No. Why should he?" + +"Why?" Jan saw that she was staring at him. Suddenly her stare was +transformed to a soft smile. "Oh-h--sometimes these cabbies think +they're funny." + +Presently the cab stopped. Jan looked out. It was a hotel, with a wide +door and a narrow one. The narrow door was marked "Ladies' Entrance," +and through the transom a red light shone. + +"Wait," said Jan. + +He went through the wide door to the desk. "I want a room for a lady," +he said to the clerk. + +"Lady? Sure. Four dollars." + +Jan paid the four dollars and registered. The clerk touched a bell. A +boy bobbed up. + +"I will bring her in by the ladies' entrance," said Jan; but in passing +out to the street he caught a glimpse of a room across the hall--a room +with tables, and men and women at the tables, and drinks on the tables. +He halted for a longer look and went out to the cab finally with a +troubled look. + +"There's a room for you, but"--he took off his hat and ran his fingers +through his hair--"I don't think you ought to stay here." He had put his +head inside the cab and was speaking low, so that the cabman should not +hear. "I don't think it's a nice place for a lady." + +"But"--she almost smiled--"I'm afraid we'll have to put up with it. +Look!" She spread wide her rumpled skirt. Her eyes rolled down to +indicate her torn bodice. With her fingertips she touched the bruises on +her face and the marks on her neck. "And I haven't even a hat on," she +concluded with an undoubted smile. + +Jan gave in. He paid the cabman, and led her through the ladies' +entrance to where the bell-boy was waiting. The boy led the way +upstairs, opened a door and turned on the light. + +"You wait out in the hall," Jan said to the bell-boy. "The lady may want +hot water and things to clean up. You know? The lady"--Jan tapped the +boy on the shoulder--"fell out of a buggy and lost her hat." He handed +the boy a dollar bill. "You understand now?" + +The boy tucked the bill away. "I'm wise! I'm wise!" He winked at Jan and +left the room. + +Jan turned to her. "I'll have a few things sent up in the morning." + +She was standing straight and motionless in the middle of the room. + +"You're good," she said, but without looking at him. + +"And--oh, my mother! I most forgot her. She lives in Port Rock. +To-morrow night I'll put you aboard the boat for Port Rock. And I won't +be able to see you till then." + +"Not till to-morrow night?" + +"I has to be at the dry dock early in the morning or they can't start +work. Good-night." He was holding his hat very stiffly in one hand. The +other hand he extended to her. + +"Good-night," the woman said, and took his hand and clung to it. +Suddenly she lifted it to her lips and sobbed. + +A woman crying and kissing his hand, and all done so suddenly he +couldn't stop it--Jan was shocked at himself. "Sh-h!" said Jan. "Sh-h! +You mustn't." + +"I will. You're the first man ever came to the house who didn't look at +me as if I was a streetwalker. And he tried his best to make me one. And +I fought him--and fought him; but not a soul to help me. And a woman +can't hold out forever. I'd 'a' killed myself, but I was afraid to die +that way. I was beginning to weaken when you came. And if you had been +the wrong kind of a man--" + +"Sh-h! Don't say things like that." + +"But it's so. And you helped me to get over it. Before I was married I +used to dream of a man like you. But what chance had I in the +dance-halls along the water-front and my people dead? And he was a +dance-hall hero, the kind girls used to write notes to. I was never as +bad as that--believe me I wasn't,--but I married him just the same--at +seventeen, and what does a girl know of life at seventeen? And him! +Almost on my wedding-day he began to abuse me." + +"No, no!" + +"It's true. And when you told me you'd take me to your mother--that was +the first message I'd got in five years from a man except what was meant +for my harm. But a good mother--I'll tell her so she'll understand." + +"She'll understand without you telling her. She's brought up a dozen of +us and has grand-children--lots of 'em. Sunday morning you'll be in my +mother's house in Port Rock." + +She stooped to kiss his hand again. + +"Here! Here--you mustn't!" + +"I will--I will! And there! And there! And now good-night." + +"Good-night," mumbled Jan. He hurried out of the room and all but fell +over the bell-boy in the hall. "What you hanging round for?" Jan almost +hissed. "Go below." + +The bell-boy hurried downstairs and "Say, but that's a new kind of an +elopement for this shack!" he exploded to the clerk, and repeated what +he had heard. + +The clerk took a look at the register and read: "'Mrs. H.G. Goles, +City.' Now I didn't notice that before. 'Mrs. Goles' he registered, and +not himself. Goles? I wonder if that's Hen's woman? Well, if it is he'll +get his good and plenty before Hen's done with him." + +"Yes, and the police'll get Hen. And, say, that Swede ain't such a gink +when yuh get a second look at him." + +"I don't know. I didn't get a second look at him; but the way he pulled +out that wad--I charged him four bucks for a dollar-'n'-a-half room. +And--" + +"S-st!" warned the boy. + +It was Jan re-entering the office. + +"What's wrong?" demanded the clerk. + +"Paper and envelope, please," said Jan. + +"Oh!" The clerk looked relieved and passed them over. Jan took out a +carpenter's thick-leaded pencil and wrote on the sheet of paper: "You +must buy some things for the trip on the boat." He looked at the clerk +and then at the boy, and went out into the hall, folded one ten-dollar +bill and two twenty-dollar bills inside the sheet, sealed and addressed +the envelope, and brought it in to the boy. + +"You take this up to the lady. Give it to her and hurry away before she +can open it. And if you are back in two minutes--" + +The boy was back in less time. Jan gave him half a dollar and passed out +into the street. + + +THE PORT ROCK BOAT + +The Port Rock boat was due _to_ leave her dock. The first mate made his +way to the upper deck. He found his captain in the pilot-house, studying +the barometer. + +"Freight all aboard, sir." + +"All right," nodded the captain; "but did you hear about the storm flags +being up?" + +"So I heard, sir." + +"M-m! Close that door. It's cold." The mate closed the door; but almost +immediately the captain raised a window and gazed down the harbor. "It +looks bad to me," he said after a while. + +"It is a bad-looking night," assented the mate. + +"A wicked night!" barked the captain; and gathering one end of his +moustache between his teeth, began to chew on it. + +The mate pursed his lips. "What will I do, sir?" + +The captain stopped chewing his moustache. "It all comes down to dollars +and cents. Use our judgment and stay tied up to the dock here and it's +go hunt another berth. Do you want to hunt another job?" + +"Not me. I got a family to look after." + +"N' me. We'll put out." + +"All right, sir." The mate descended to the wharf. "In with that +freight runway and plank!" he called out to the waiting longshoremen. +"And you"--a colored steward was at his elbow--"tell 'em all aboard on +the dock and all ashore on the boat that's goin' ashore." + +The steward voiced the mate's instructions; the last passenger came +aboard and the last friend went ashore. The gangplank was hauled in, the +lines cast off and the Port Rock steamer slid out from her slip. + +She was well down the harbor before Jan took a piece of paper from his +pocket. "Number two hundred and seventy-six," he read. "That's it--two +hundred and seventy-six." And seeking out the number he knocked on the +door. It opened slightly and Jan saw peeking out at him the lips, chin +and half an eye each side of the nose of a pretty and well-dressed girl. +Jan looked up at the number over the door again to see if he had made a +mistake. Then the door opened more widely--and it was she, smiling out +at him; but so rosy and terribly pretty that Jan felt afraid and drew +back. + +"I thought maybe you would like to get out for some fresh air soon," he +stammered. + +"I was just trying on the new hat I bought with the money you sent up +last night--and a shirtwaist and a lovely long coat. How did you get +through the night?" + +"Fine! I went over to the dry dock and turned into a bunk on the +schooner." + +She made a mouth at the mirror. "That was no place to sleep. You should +have taken a comfortable room at the hotel." + +Jan was silent. + +"Yes, you should. I'll be right out." + +She came out, but with her face veiled, and clung close to him as they +walked the deck. Jan sniffed the air. + +"Snow, I think," he said. + +"Meaning a storm? I was never in a storm. Are they terrible?" + +"A storm is nothing," said Jan, "when you get used to them. But will we +go in to supper?" + +They went in. The boat was now outside the harbor and pitching slightly. + +She did not eat much and at length laid down her knife and fork." + +"Sea-sick?" asked Jan. + +"No. I must be too frightened to be sea-sick." + +"Frightened of what?" + +"Of him." She leaned across the table. "I'm sure I saw him. Yes--spying +through the window of my room just before I left it just now." + +Jan tranquilly went on eating. "He can't hurt you aboard a boat." + +"I don't mind that, so he won't hurt you." + +Jan shook his head. "He won't because he can't on here without getting +caught." + +They stepped outside at last. Cozy enough in the dining-room; but +outside the snow was now thick enough to show white on deck where the +passengers had not tramped it down. They sought the open space in the +bow--Jan to see how it looked ahead and Mrs. Goles to feel the fresh +gale blowing in her face. + +"It's a north-east snow-storm," said Jan, "and coming thicker. But no +danger. No--no danger," he repeated quickly, with a glance at her. + +"It's not danger of a storm I fear," she said simply. She was peering, +not ahead at the darkening, rising sea but at the form and face of every +muffled-up passenger who came near them. + +Not many passengers were venturing onto the open deck; and those who did +were wrapped high and close, with hardly more than their eyes showing +out. "If he comes on us he will come like that--coat collar to his ears +and hat over his eyes," she thought as one after another so wrapped +appeared and passed; and almost with the thought, catching sight of a +lurking man's figure in the passageway between the paddle-box and the +outside row of state-rooms, she added aloud: "Let us go up on the top +deck." + +"It will be pretty cold and rough for you up there," suggested Jan. + +"Never mind; let us go there." A man could not very well hide on the +more open top deck, was what she had in mind. + +They could hardly keep their feet on the top deck. An officer in passing +warned them sharply to be careful. She looked after him scornfully. "As +if you weren't more at home on the sea than any of them!" she said +proudly. + +The wind on the top deck was blowing a gale. The snow was pouring down. +Another officer bumped into them. "This is no place for passengers!" he +yelled. "Better go below and inside the house!" And he hurried on. + +"Excited, ain't he?" said Jan. "But maybe we better go below too. But +let's go round by the lee side--this way." + +In passing the pilot-house a window above them was thrown open and a +man's face thrust through, and a man's voice said: + +"We'll never make Port Rock to-night, not against this gale and snow. +And no use trying to see anything ahead." + +Jan peered up through the dark and the snow to see who it might be. +Against the light in the pilot-house he could distinguish the head and +shoulders of the captain. + +"Then we'd better put in somewhere for the night, hadn't we?" Jan knew +that for the mate's voice. + +"Put in where?" + +"I don't know--Gloucester, maybe?" + +"Gloucester? And how does Gloucester bear now?--tell me that. And how +does any port bear now?--tell me that, too. Suppose we did know, would +you try to take her into Gloucester harbor on a night like this? +Gloucester!" + +"Sh-h! There's something," said the other voice. + +The voices were hushed. Two long moans came over the sea. + +"Wait for them again. And time 'em." The captain's voice that. + +Mrs. Goles stepped closer to Jan. "Does it mean there's danger to the +ship?" she asked in a low voice in Jan's ear. + +"No, no. But listen!" + +One long moan and one short moan came fitfully over the sea. + +"Thatcher's Island steam-whistle," said the captain's voice. "An' +bearing so." So thick was the night with snow that Jan had to strain his +sight to make out the mittened hand and coatsleeve stretching out +through the window over his head. + +Jan felt the wind whipping him on the other side, and with that there +came from the pilot-house: "Well, if that ain't the devil's own luck! +Here's the wind makin' into the north-west and the chief whistlin' up +half-steam's all he can keep on her!" + +"Ain't it always something wrong! I told 'em about them boilers--that +they been leakin' right along. What will we do?" + +"Only one thing to do now. Run her before it. Besides, she'll be blown +offshore soon now. Run her across the bay. South-south-east. She ought +to fetch Provincetown." + +"Yes, sir. But when we get out from under the lee of the land what'll +happen?" + +"I don't know; but I do know what'll happen to her bumpin' over the +rocks of this shore on a night like this!" + +Jan touched Mrs. Goles's arm. "We better go below now, I think. And you +better go to your room and wrap up in any warm clothes you have--two +pairs of stockings, if you have them, and things like that. To be ready +for accidents, you know. And wait for me in the saloon." + +"So there is danger?" + +"You must not be thinking of that; but it is foolish not to be ready for +accidents. And while you are dressing up I will take a look round." + +"Oh, suppose he is aboard! Won't you watch out for him?" + +"It's him has to watch out for me on a night like this," said Jan--"and +maybe watch out for more than me." + + * * * * * + +Jan went to his room and put on his extra suit of underwear, and over +his vest he drew his sweater. From his suit-case he took his mother's +photograph and tucked it in his inside pocket. Then he went up again to +the top deck and located a life-raft--made the rounds of the boat-deck +and located the life-boats. + +It was time now to study the storm. The snow was not so thick, but the +sea was making and the wind colder and stronger. A gale from the +northwest it would be when they were out in the open bay; and, besides +the wind getting stronger the sea would be higher. And it was as high +now as was good for this old-fashioned side-wheeler with her old-time +single engine. + +Jan shook his head and, still shaking his head, once more made the +rounds of the boat-deck. Eight boats; and each boat might hold +twenty-five people--that is, if it was in a mill-pond. But a night like +this--how many--even if the running gear were sound? "No, no," said Jan +to himself, and reinspected the lone life-raft on the top deck. Two +cigar-shaped steel air-cylinders with a thin connecting deck was the +life-raft. Jan had seen better ones; but a raft, at least, would not +capsize. + +He descended to the main deck, to where, in the gangway between house +and rail, he could find a little quiet and think things over. While +there, amidships, a sea swept up under the paddle-wheel casing. It +boomed like a gun. With it went some crackling. Again a booming--again a +crackling. The boat broached to. Sea-water was running the length of her +deck. + +From out of the snow and night another sea came; and this one came +straight aboard, roaring as it came. Jan knew what it meant--there is +always the first sea by itself. Not long now before there would be +another. + +And not long before there was another. + +And soon there would be a hundred of them, one racing after the other. +And a thousand more of them--only this rust-eaten hull, with her +scrollwork topsides, would not hold together long enough to see a +thousand of them. + +Jan tried to figure out how far they were from the Cape Cod shore. Ten, +fifteen, twenty miles. Call it twenty. Jan doubted if she would live to +get there, even with the gale behind her. + +He walked round the house to look into the lighted saloon. She was +there--the poor girl--sitting patiently by herself. Long before this the +orchestra had given up playing and only a dozen passengers or so were +there; but she was the only lone one--in a red plush chair under a +cluster of wall-lights. Besides the passengers, there was one steward +and a colored maid, both staring together through the lighted window. + +Jan's feet were wet. He went down to the bar, where he called for a +drink of ginger ale and a pint flask of brandy. "Of your best," he +added. + +Leaning against the bar he listened to the loungers there. Four of them +were at a table under a window which looked out on the open deck. One +was struggling in a loud voice with what should have been a funny story. +His companions neglected no chance to laugh, but after each laugh they +hastily sipped their drinks. At intervals the wind would shriek and at +each shriek they would look past each other with exaggerated calmness; +but when the sea pounded the hull, and the spray splashed thickly +against the window over their heads, they would look up at the window or +across at the door. And when the boat would roll down and, rolling, +threaten to dump them all on the floor, they would grab the table and +yell "Whoa!" or "Wait a second!" with just a suggestion of hysteria in +their throats; and somebody would call out, "Go on with the story, Joe!" +and the story-teller would hasten to resume. + +Jan turned to the bartender, who was filling waiting stewards' hurried +orders calmly if not impassively. After every heavy sea he would stop +pouring or mixing to glance with unaffected interest at the beams above +him or the door opening onto the deck. He was an undersized man with +lean, pale cheeks, a hard chin, and a bright, cold eye. Once he looked +fairly at Jan and Jan looked fairly at him. It was like an introduction. + +"You a sea-going man?" he asked. + +"I used to go to sea," admitted Jan. + +"I thought so. But those there,"--he lowered his voice and leaned across +the bar to Jan,--"they don't know whether this is a real bad gale or +just the reg'lar thing. One of 'em says a while ago: 'This is the kind +of weather I like!' I bet it's his first trip. But most of the +passengers, the stewards tell me, are turned in, trying to forget it." + +"Better for 'em," said Jan. + +"Maybe so, too; but what do you think of it?" + +Jan shook his head. "I will be glad when morning comes." + +"Same here. I've seen it as bad as this a couple of times before." He +picked up Jan's bill. "But this old shoe box ain't getting any younger. +Here's your brandy. It's good stuff--don't be afraid of it. Seventy-five +and fifteen--ninety." + +"Have a cigar," said Jan, "and finish the dollar." + +"Thanks. I will. But I'll smoke it later, when it's quieter, if it's all +the same to you." He rang up a dollar on the cash register and turned +to a new-comer who had ranged up beside Jan. + +"Brandy," said the new-comer. + +As Jan thrust his flask in his inside coat-pocket he flashed a sidewise +glance at the man drinking. The man was buttoned up to his eyes, but Jan +thought he knew the voice. Jan buttoned up his own coat, said +"Good-night" to the bartender and went out on deck, from where, through +the window, he could view the customer at the bar. + +Jan saw him empty his glass and motion for another drink. He drank that, +paid, and turned to go. Jan caught a front glimpse of his face. It was +Goles. Jan also saw that the bartender was looking curiously after him. + +Jan waited for him outside. As he came almost abreast, the ship heaved +and the two men fell against each other, while a great splash of +sea-water drenched them. Again a roll and jump, and Goles would have +fallen had not Jan held him upright. Goles gave him no thanks, but he +said huskily: "I heard one of the sailors say she's a goner." With Jan +holding on to Goles, the two men were swaying and stumbling to the +boat's heavy rolling and heaving. + +"I don't know about that," said Jan; "but she's in a bad way. And it's +going to be worse, I think." + +"That's what the sailor said," muttered Goles. + +"So if you want to shoot anybody you better wait till we're +safe--to-morrow maybe. And your wife--But watch out!" + +The sea washed fairly over them both. With the wave went a broken rail +and part of the splintered house. Following the crashing of the wood and +glass came the frightened questions and the patter of excited people +running out of their rooms. The story-telling group from the barroom +came as one man. The glass of the window over their heads had been +showered on to their table. The bartender stopped only to empty his cash +register, stuff the money in his pocket, and get into a great coat; then +he came running out too. Bottles and glasses were breaking behind him as +he ran. + +"Come," said Jan. Goles followed. Jan went up and looked into the +saloon. There she was, still waiting. "You stay here and I will bring +her out," said Jan to Goles--"and don't you open your mouth when you see +her." + +Goles made no sign. He was gripping the house railing and his face was +to the sea. + +"Thank God for the sight of you!" she said to Jan as he came in. "Is the +ship going down?" + +"Not yet. But your husband is outside. He won't say anything. Don't you +either. And when--Hold hard!" + +The deck bounded up under them. She gripped Jan's coat and Jan gripped +a chair that was screwed to the floor; and then the deck rolled far down +and Jan's chair came loose, and both were thrown across the saloon. "She +is breaking up!" thought Jan. A moment later it seemed to Jan as if all +the passengers in the ship had suddenly awakened and were trying to +crowd into the place. A ship's officer and some stewards also came +running in. The stewards had life-preservers, which they were buckling +on to themselves. They remained; but the officer, after a look around, +ran out again. + +The boat rolled back on her keel. Jan led Mrs. Goles to the outer deck. +Goles was there. "Come!" ordered Jan, and led the way to an iron ladder. +The boat rolled far to one side and again far to the other. Mrs. Goles +felt as if she were clinging to the tail of a kite, but still she clung +to Jan; and Jan at last made the upper deck with her. He had forgotten +her husband; but when he turned to look back the muffled form was there +at his heels. + +Jan groped his way to where the life-raft was lashed to the deck. He +ordered Mrs. Goles to sit down on the raft. Goles sat down beside her. +Goles seemed bereft of all volition. + +"You wait here till I come back," Jan said to him and turning to go +below, bumped into another man. + +"Hello! Is this you?" said the other man. "I thought I saw you come up +here. 'And there's the man,' I says to myself, 'to tie to to-night!'" + +Jan recognized the bartender. "You're just the man I want, too," said +Jan. He dove into his pocket and drew out a revolver. "Here, take this." + +"A gun!" + +"Yes--and loaded. Watch that man on the raft. And if he tries to hurt +that woman or not let her on that raft if the boat goes down, shoot +him!" + +"You mean it?" + +"Yes. He's bad! He's the man who was drinking in your place a few +minutes ago--after me." + +"Oh, him! Yes; he's bad, all right. He's been drinking raw brandy since +seven o'clock. I was noticin' him." + +"Don't shoot him unless you have to. And don't let him see me passing it +to you. I'm going to get a few more people up to the raft." + +"All right--but--Wow! I never shot a man in my life." + +Jan had hardly reached the saloon when the great crash came. He was +swept away before it. Boom! it was--and again, crash! Now he heard the +smothered appeals of people being swept overboard! Crackling wood was +following the crash of every sea, and each sea receded only to let the +next one strike even more heavily. It was now nothing but solid water +that was coming aboard. + +Her buoyancy had left her. Her roll had become a wallow. She was +settling. "The water's in her hold!" thought Jan, and took a quick look +about. All kinds and all ages--but there was one girl with an expression +on her face that startled him. + +In fine but sodden clothes she was sitting, heedless of every person but +the young man standing dumbly beside her. "And I told them I was going +to stay with a girl friend out of town over Sunday," she was saying. +"And now they'll know. Whether we're drowned or not they'll know. +Everybody will know and what will they say?" + +Near the girl were a young man and a woman locked in each other's arms. +Jan judged them to be a bridal couple. They were saying nothing--just +holding each other and waiting. He hesitated an instant and then he saw +a woman with a baby. She was leaning heavily against a stanchion +crooning to the baby. He now saw that she was almost a middle-aged +woman, a poorly dressed and toil-worn woman--a Finnish woman probably. +Jan's doubt was gone. He jumped to her side. "Want to save your baby?" +The woman looked up at him and down at the baby. "Baby!" she said, and +held it toward Jan. "Yes, save baby," she said. "Come!" said Jan, and +grasped her hand. Then the lights went out. + +Jan had marked the ladder in his mind, and in the dark he made his way +toward it; but before he could get to it there were many adventures. He +went floundering this way and that, but holding the baby in one arm and +dragging the mother with the other, he held on until he bumped into a +stanchion in the dark. "It's near here," he thought; and, reaching out +with his feet, he found the bottom step of the ladder. + +He had two decks to surmount. On the boat-deck, as he passed up, he +could hear the ship's men shouting wildly and foolishly to each other. +On the top deck he found the three just as he had left them. He gave the +woman and baby into the care of the bartender and felt about until he +found a coil of rope. He cut it loose and, carrying it back to the raft, +lashed Mrs. Goles to a ring. Then, taking off his ulster, he wrapped it +round the mother and baby, and lashed her. Then he lashed the bartender +and Goles, and took a loose turn about a ring for himself. Then he +waited. + +It came soon enough. A large section of the top deck floated clear of +the upper works. Jan stayed by the floating deck until he felt that the +steamer was surely sunk beneath them. Then he cut the raft clear of +everything and let her drift. + +The raft was swirled from wave to wave. The spray broke over them. +"We'll get wet," said Jan; "but one thing--she won't capsize!" + +The seas curled and boomed about them; but no solid seas rolled over +them. The raft mounted every roaring white crest as if it were swinging +from an aeroplane. The spray never failed to drench them and with every +heaving sea came bits of wreckage that threatened them; but at least +they were living, and not a living soul besides themselves had come +away. + + +THE RAFT + +The clouds raced low above them; but by and by the clouds passed away +and clear and cold shone a moon on a terrifying sea. And so for +hours--until the moon had gone and the struggling daylight revealed a +surf breaking high on a sandy shore. They could not land there; so Jan +took the long oar and wielded it over one end of the raft and held her +parallel to the beach until he descried a point reaching out into the +bay. On the other side of that point would be a lee and safety; but he +said nothing of that to his companions yet. + +In the middle of the raft lay Goles, huddled and silent as ever. Mrs. +Goles, at the farther end of the raft, was mostly watching Jan as he +heaved on the oar; but sometimes she seemed to be studying her husband. +The Finn woman, nearest to Jan, was hugging her baby to her under Jan's +great coat. She, too, when she was not watching her baby, was looking at +Jan. The bartender, between Jan and Goles, was looking out for marks +ashore. + +The bartender was also thinking that the two other men were about the +same age, and yet the man in the middle of the raft, when he let his +face be seen, looked the older by ten years. All night long he had not +spoken and he seldom raised his head--when he did it was to gaze at the +land. He seemed to be taking but small notice of anybody. Toward the +bartender, who was behind him, he had not once turned his head. + +Jan worked on the long oar. The point of land was coming nearer. "A hard +drag yet; but we'll be there by sunrise!" said Jan in a low voice to the +bartender; at which Goles looked round suddenly--but said nothing. + +At last they were under the lee of the point. The sea was beautifully +smooth. Jan stopped sculling and went forward to Mrs. Goles. "The tide +has her," he said. "Soon she will be in and we will all be safe!" She +looked back at her husband. + +The bartender stood up and shouted aloud. "Safe--hah! Say, but ain't it +like looking at something in a moving picture though?" He stuck a hand +into his coat pocket and pulled out Jan's revolver. He stared at it; +then, with a low whistle and a glance at Goles's back, he returned it to +his pocket. Only the Finn woman had seen the action. + +The bartender shoved a hand into his trousers pocket. He pulled out a +handful of bills and silver. "Well, what do you know? And I came near +putting that into the safe last night!" He unbuttoned his coat and from +his vest pocket he pulled out a cigar. "Well, what do you know?" He next +drew out a metallic match-case. "Well, well--dry too!" He lit his cigar, +took three or four puffs, contentedly sat down, and began smoothing out +and counting the damp bills. "Well, well!--forty-five, fifty-five, +sixty, seventy--the only time in my life I ever beat a cash register! +Seventy-two--four--and on a good night there'd a been three times the +business--eight-four--six--eight. Eighty-eight dollars." + +Goles looked over his shoulder at the bartender. He wet his lips and +stood up. After a time he threw off his overcoat. "How about a drink +from that flask?" he asked suddenly. + +Jan, without looking around, drew the flask from his pocket and handed +it to him. He had already given the two men a drink each--and the Finn +woman and Mrs. Goles two swallows of it during the night; and almost +half the brandy was now gone. Goles put the flask to his lips. The +bartender stopped counting his silver to watch him; and, seeing it go, +he called out: "Say there, Bill, just leave a taste of that, will you?" +Goles drank it to the last drop. When he had finished he threw the empty +flask overboard. "Well, if you ain't one fine gentleman!" exploded the +bartender. + +Goles paid no attention to him. "How long before we'll be ashore now?" +he asked. + +"Only a few minutes now," said Jan. He was still standing with his back +to Goles. + +"A few minutes?" repeated Goles. At the words his wife turned sharply. +Husband and wife stared at each other. + +"There's the sun coming over the sand-hill now," said Jan. She turned to +look shoreward. + +The bartender, counting and chuckling over his money, felt a hand +shaking the tip of his sleeve. It was the Finn woman. She pointed a +finger toward Goles. The bartender saw Goles's hand come out of his +bosom with a revolver. + +"So long as we're safe," said Goles slowly, "you're going to get +yours--and get it now, you--" + +Jan was looking at the shore, but Mrs. Goles had turned with the first +word and thrown herself toward Goles as he fired. Mrs. Goles fell before +the bullet. "I was going to get her anyway," said Goles evenly, and +leveled his revolver at Jan, who had jumped to save her from falling +overboard and was now holding her away from Goles. + +"I got you where there's no comeback!" gritted Goles, and took careful +aim at Jan!--but did not fire. He felt a ring of cold metal pressed +against his neck and half turned to see what it was. "Don't shoot! +Don't!" he begged. + +"You--" The word the bartender gritted out could not be heard, because +he pulled the trigger as he said it. + +Goles sagged down until his knees rested on the deck. Then he fell +forward and over the side of the raft. There was the gentlest of +splashes, a patch of red--a cluster of bubbles which burst like sighs. + +"Well!" said the bartender, and held up the revolver in wonder. "I never +thought I'd live to kill a man!" He looked to see how the others had +taken it, but they were paying no attention to him. He saw Jan holding +the baby and trying to hush its little cries for its mother, while the +baby's mother was pressing the tips of her fingers gently against the +upper part of the injured woman's right breast. + +"You mustn't die! You mustn't die!" Jan said when the baby would let +him. + +"I don't want to die--not now!" she answered. + +The Finn woman looked up and smiled at Jan. "Not die. No, no--not die." + +The raft grounded gently on the beach. Jan took the wounded girl and set +out for the top of the sand-hill with her. The bartender took the baby +and toiled behind with its mother. + +"Say," said the bartender, "you're all right! How many more children to +home?" + +"Home?" She held up seven fingers. "And him," pointing to the baby. + +"Great Stork! Here!" He set down the baby, drew out the bar-money and +offered it to her. "When a ship goes down, I heard a sea-lawyer say +once, all debts go with her. And that must mean all credits go too. +Anyhow we'll make it so now. Here--for you." + +"Me? No, no. I have husband. Fine job--dollar-half day." + +"Dollar an' a half! It's too much for the father of eight children for +one day! But this--see. For baby. And the Lord knows a baby who came +through last night and never a yip out of him, he oughter get a million. +Here--put in bank--for baby." + +"Ah-h! For baby. Tenk you." She beamed and took the money. "You brave +man! Him"--pointing to Jan's back--"brave man too." + +"Him, brave--yes. But me? No, no. Me scared blue. He'd 'a' shot me next +only I beat him to it." + +"Kill baby too." She kissed the baby. + + * * * * * + +The sun was well up when they reached the top of the hill--a pale, +frightened-looking sun, but nevertheless a sun. The bartender took off +his cap and saluted it gravely. Below them lay the town. + +"We'll go down there," said Jan to Mrs. Goles, "and from there, when +you're well, we'll go home--to my mother. But," he added gravely, "we +will go by train." + +She smiled weakly at him. "I could go without a train--on my hands and +knees I could crawl to the mother of you! You don't know it, but when I +was growing up it was a man like you I always used to dream about. And +I'm not sure I'm not dreaming now!" + +"Don't worry," said the bartender. "We're all awake--and alive. And you +bet it's great to be alive again! Ain't it,"--he turned to the Finn +woman,--"you mother of eight?" + +The Finn woman made no answer. She was nursing her baby. + + + + +Cogan Capeador + + +Eight bells had gone, the morning watch was done, it was almost time to +eat, and so Kieran, the pump-man, laid aside the tools of his berth and +came strolling aft; and swinging down the long gangway he sang: + + "There was a girl,--I knew her well,--a girl in Zanzibar-- + A bulgeous man of science said you bet her avatar + Was Egypt's Cleopatra--and from off a man-o'-war + I met her first--and O, her eyes! A blazing polar star! + From which you couldn't head away no more than you could fly-- + Gypsy one of Zanzy! For you who wouldn't die!" + +It was one of those fine days in the Gulf of Mexico. Abreast of the ship +the Florida reefs, low-crested, ragged, and white, loomed above the +smooth sea. + +Kieran contemplated the line of reefs; presently he leaned over the +taffrail and stared down at the whirling propeller; from the screws his +gaze shifted to the whirling water above and about them, and thence to +the tow in their wake. He put his head to one side, studied the +spectacle of the straining hawser and the wallowing barge on the end of +it, as if it were a mysterious problem. + +"Oh-h, shucks!" He sighed and came suddenly out of his reverie, looked +up at the sky, turned wearily inboard, and sat himself on one of the +towing bitts. + +The passenger, from the other towing bitt, asked what it was. + +"I was just thinking that some of us are tied to the end of a string, +just like that barge, and we don't know it any more than she does, and +no more able to help ourselves than she can--sometimes." + +"I never looked at a towing barge in that light before," said the +passenger, and lit a cigar. He made no offer of one to Kieran, because +he had before this learned that Kieran never smoked. + +The ship rolled, the barge yawed, the reefs kept sliding by. The +passenger stole a look at the pump-man, and ventured: "Kieran, there +used to be, a few years ago, a sprinter, pole-vaulter, and jumper, +competing under the name of Campbell in the Hibernian and Caledonian +games up north, and you're a ringer for him." + +Kieran glanced sidewise at the passenger. "You must have been in +athletics yourself--seems to me I've seen you somewhere too." + +"Maybe. My name's Benson." + +"I remember--a sprinter. And a good one, too." + +"Good enough--with no Wefers or Duffey, or somebody like yourself +around," protested the passenger, but immensely pleased nevertheless to +be identified after so many years. And they were both pleased and +exchanged rapid comment on a dozen incidents of athletic days; and when +two ex-athletes get together they run on interminably. + +By and by, but not prematurely, the passenger asked, "But _was_ there a +girl at Zanzibar?" + +Kieran made no reply. He seemed to be considering the matter of the +barge. After a time he went to the quarter-rail and gazed forward. He +came back to his bitt. "I thought so. There's one of those wreckers up +ahead. They're always along here--standing by or cruising for any loose +wreckage." He waved his hand toward the reefs. "Look. Where their crests +don't pierce the surface you know they're there by the surf playing over +'em. Where they lie a little deeper the paler green of the sea shows 'em +up. In the deep pockets in between--see?--the sea's of a beautiful deep +blue. That's all easy enough, isn't it, but where the drifting clouds +shut out the sunlight, where the shadows fall it's all of a color, isn't +it? No saying then where it's deep water and where it is shoal. It's the +clouds. If the light was always good, there'd be few wrecks along here. +And"--he waved toward the barge astern--"there she is tied to us. If +this ship piles up on the reefs, she piles up behind us." + +"Couldn't they cut her adrift?" + +"H-m-m--a drifting barge and the Florida Keys tide-water, where would +she fetch up?" And, after a pause, "no fault of hers either, and that +seems hard, too. But there's that wrecker--listen." + +A hailing voice came floating aft to them. "Ain't seen nothing 'long de +way--nothin' to th' east'ard, has you, capt'n?" + +"No, I didn't see nothin'. And if I did, d'y' s'pose I'd tell you, you +green-sided, patch-sailed whelp's loafer of a black pirate, do you?" + +Without turning their heads Kieran and the passenger could hear their +captain's voice from the bridge, and also without turning their heads +they shortly saw the wrecking schooner slide past their quarter. She +_was_ green-painted and her sails _were_ a scandal, and it _was_ a very +black and big negro who was standing in her waist to catch the reply, +and it was very like their captain to answer as he did. + +The big negro only flashed his teeth and waved his arm. His little +vessel went drifting astern. + +"Pirates and wreckers--look pretty much like honest people, don't they?" +commented Kieran. "And they are mostly. At least I've bunked with +'em--white ones, though--and I found 'em pretty much like you and +me--except for their ideas in that and maybe one or two other lines. And +most people, when you come to know them, aren't so different, except in +one way--or maybe two or three ways in some cases. Don't you think so?" + +The passenger countered with another question. "You've met a good many +different kinds of people in your time, haven't you?" + +The pump-man nodded. After a pause he added, "A few," in an absent +manner. + +The low-lying reefs sank out of sight, and far astern the green-painted +schooner merged into the mists. It was a warm, pleasant day. + +Kieran roused himself. "No, there wasn't any girl in Zanzibar. If there +had been, a fellow couldn't be advertising her to the crew of an +oil-tanker at high-noon, could he? No! But there _was_ a girl, and there +was a friend of mine--call him Cogan. Oh, not a bad fellow--no worse, +maybe no better, than you or I, or most any of the old crowd we used to +know, and he happened to drift down the Isthmus way--into Colon--during +the Revolution. Ever there?" + +"Once, just after the Revolution." + +"And what did you think of it--the Revolution?" + +"M-m--it surely did happen most opportunely for our interests." + +"Didn't it, though? And did you ever notice that quite a few of the +revolutions in those Central American latitudes happen most opportunely +for some northern interest or other? Well, Cogan was there during the +Revolution. He told me of a saloon there, about a minute's walk up from +the big steamship dock on the street next the water-side--remember that +street?" + +"Where the railroad starts to cross the Isthmus to Panama?" + +"That's it. And this saloon was on that street--it may be there yet--the +Fourth of July saloon with its big American ensign painted on the wall +opposite the bar. Remember it?" + +"M-m-h-h." + +"Well, it was run by a Brooklyn Irishman named Martin Jackson, and Cogan +said he remembered the shock he got when he first heard him talk. His +Irish brogue had a Spanish accent--do you get that? Well, he has nothing +to do with the story, only this--Cogan used to have great ideas about +revolutions, and Martin, he knocked most of them out of him. He'd seen +twenty of them in his time, Martin had, and when he saw one of them +coming now, he just ran up his iron shutters and let it roll by. +Business was generally pretty good after a revolution. An easy-going +sort of a man, Martin. He didn't even get mad with Cogan when he'd used +up hours of his time and then only order ginger ale. + +"Cogan saw the Panamanian army at dress parade one day--after the +Revolution that was. About two hundred darkies, mostly boys of thirteen +or fourteen, barefooted with high-water pants on. Cogan's notion of it +was that a dozen good huskies with baseball bats could've landed on +their peninsula any fine, sunny afternoon and in ten minutes rushed the +whole Panamanian army into the Pacific Ocean--that is, if our warships +would let them. If we'd only let the Colombians alone they'd soon've +wound up the Revolution--so Cogan thought, and told Martin so. 'But I +s'pose they've had hundreds of revolutions in South America?' he says to +Martin. + +"'Hundreds,' says Martin, and blows more smoke toward the sky. Out in +front of the saloon they were sitting, both of 'em balancing between the +sidewalk and the wall on the hind legs of their chairs. + +"'Anybody ever killed?' + +"'Oh, not more than maybe a few hundred to a time--sometimes a few +thousand--' + +"'Hundreds? Thousands?' says Cogan. 'We hadn't any more than three +hundred killed--that is, killed fighting--in the whole Santiago +campaign.' Cogan had been there. + +"'And you have written a library of books about it,' says Martin. 'But +of course when a few hundred are killed down this way--'tis a great +joke. And those little black and tan lads of thirteen or fourteen having +to go off shouldering a rifle and kill or get killed--they're jokes, +too. But if a grown man up in your country does it--the band plays when +he goes and comes, and he makes speeches about it at banquets--and +sometimes he will draw a pension for the next sixty years after it--' +says Martin and said it in his easy way, as if he didn't care much about +it one way or the other; and maybe he didn't. + +"Cogan didn't find much doing on the streets of Colon after the +Revolution was over, so he got in the way of dropping into a place just +around the corner from Martin's, a joint where they sold you drinks to +tables in the front room and ran faro layouts in two rooms in back--one +for whites and one for blacks. + +"Cogan drifted in there with a man who looked like the pictures of grand +dukes he'd seen--tall, fine broad shoulders, and dressed in white ducks, +and wore a long, well-trimmed dark beard, and swung a gold-headed cane, +and had a big ring on one finger. Cogan heard him on the wharf that +day--he talked pretty good English--helping out a Chinese merchant who +was kicking about the freight charges on some cases he wanted to ship +across the peninsula. The American gang running the railroad down there +used to charge what they pleased in those days, and Cogan had a sympathy +for anybody that bucked them--he'd had to pay eight dollars gold for a +run to Panama and back himself--and he and the grand duke got chummy and +looked the town over together; but not much to look at, and this evening +they drifted into this place--the Russian taking a high-ball and Cogan +another ginger ale--to have an excuse to hang around and see what was +doing. + +"There wasn't much doing. Half a dozen discouraged looking girls were +sitting to tables in the place. From California, Mexico, Jamaica they +were, and had come on just as soon as they could when they heard about +the Revolution, thinking that with the crowd of Americans who were sure +to rush down to the peninsula, there ought to be a living for a few +clever ladies like themselves. But up to this time the rush hadn't got +beyond war correspondents and navy people, and now the poor things were +sitting to tables and looking as if they wished somebody would loosen up +and buy a drink--even if it was no more than a glass of moxie. + +"Cogan's grand duke turned out to be a Peruvian, a dealer in Panama hats +from Lima, and he told Cogan a lot about Panama hats, which weren't +Panama hats at all, and other interesting things--South America politics +and bull fighting especially. He had a brother Juan, who was a famous +mounted capeador, he said--that's the man who sits with a red cloak on a +horse in the first part of the bull fight and Cogan could see that he +was very proud of him. + +"Cogan and his Peruvian friend were getting on fine, when a tremendous +old Indian woman filled up the doorway, and said something in Spanish to +the Peruvian, and he got up, explaining to Cogan that his daughter +Valera, who had come with him on this trip to see the strange peoples, +had sent to say that he must not forget his good-night before she fell +asleep. 'She never allows me to forget that,' said the Peruvian. 'Also +possibly she knows,' he smiled, 'that if I am at home I shall not be in +mis-cheef,' and he said he hoped they'd meet again next day and bowed +himself out. + +"Cogan went off later to his hotel. That's the same hotel which had been +the George Washington Hotel, later the Cleveland House, and at this time +was the Hotel McKinley, but with an intention soon to call it the +Roosevelt House. If it's there now, it must be the Hotel Taft. + +"Cogan had the end room of the lower floor of the hotel wing which ran +down toward the beach. The ocean rolled almost up to the window of his +room. It was a calm night with no sea on, and lying there, listening, +Cogan could just catch the low swish of the surf. + +[Illustration: He said he hoped they'd meet again next day and bowed +himself out] + +"It was a hot, close night, and Cogan's bed no cooler for being wrapped +four times around with mosquito netting, so after he had tossed around +an hour or two, he guessed he might as well get up and have a swim. He +had only to step through a window, take a hop, step, and jump, and he +would be at the edge of the surf; but as he opened up his shutters +softly, so as not to disturb anybody else in that wing of the house, he +saw that it was already near dawn, and then wh-s-s-t, quick as that, the +top edge of the sun popped up. + +"Cogan looking out saw a young girl of maybe fourteen years with long +black hair hanging loose behind her. It was a smooth, silver-like sea, +with hardly surf enough to raise a white edge on the beach, and the +girl, ankle deep in the water, was kicking her feet ahead of her, making +a great splashing as she marched along. Her legs below her knees were +bare, and she was gurgling with joy. By the time she was abreast of +Cogan's window, it was full dawn. + +"Suddenly she turned, ran in waist deep, and plunged seaward. Cogan, +seeing her over her head and alone, began to worry; but he might have +saved himself the worry--she came tumbling back like a young dolphin, +found her feet on the beach, and flew to where was a cloak and a pair of +Chinese slippers piled on the sand. The long rays of the just rising sun +were now flashing level atop of the sea, and the sea-water clinging to +her in a million twinkling drops as she ran. Cogan remembered a marble +nymph he had once seen under a fountain in a square on a sunny morning +in Rome, only the figure in Rome was a couple of hundred, or perhaps a +couple of thousand, years old and needed washing, and being marble the +water didn't cling so lingeringly. + +"Her bare young legs, as they twinkled on the beach, were like a pair of +moving poems to Cogan, and then the long cloak enveloped her. An instant +later the little feet slipped out from beneath the cloak and into the +sandals, and then a big woman came running down the beach. Cogan +recognized her--the same big Indian who had come after his Peruvian +friend the night before. He decided she must be a descendant of the old +Incas that Pizarro conquered, and of course that didn't make it any less +interesting. She began to scold the girl, peering distressfully around +while she was talking as if to see if any early hotel riser had seen +them. But the girl only made a face up at her, and that gave Cogan his +first sight of her teeth. He thought her the most delightful looking +creature he had ever seen. They disappeared between a row of trees +further up the beach--a row of palms which guarded a line of cottages +from the wash of the surf. + +"'That,' said Cogan to himself, when his eyes couldn't make out the +fluttering of her cloak any more--'that must be Valera.' And he sat +down to the hotel breakfast with a great appetite, thinking happily that +by and by he would see her father again. + +"But Cogan, who was off a cruiser in Colon harbor, had to be back aboard +for quarters that morning; and after quarters it was up the coast to +Chiriqui Lagoon to coal ship, and it was three days more before he was +back in Colon. His Peruvian friend he could not find, but he looked up +the Chinese trader that he'd first seen him with and who had a shop on +the corner between Martin Jackson's and the faro joint. + +"The Chinaman could tell him. Senor Roca had taken the choo-choo back to +Callao--si, si--Oh, yes, for Lima. + +"Cogan asked for the name and address and got it. 'Senor Luis Roca,' he +repeated. 'I'll remember that--and the street and number. And some day +I'll take a run down to Peru--to Lima.' + +"'Si, si--fine cit-ee. And bull fight--granda, senor,' said the +Chinaman, who, like Martin Jackson, had also a Spanish accent." + + * * * * * + +The pump-man had come to a full stop. The third officer was standing +near. A regurgitating and ruminating little animal was the third +officer, who always after a meal came up on deck to lean over the +after-rail, and spend a few enjoyable minutes in picking his teeth, and +rechewing the lumps of food as they welled regularly into his throat; +but otherwise a polite little man, plainly waiting for a chance to say a +word to Kieran, but too well-bred to break in on any intimate +conversation. However, Kieran remained silent so very long that the +third officer turned and ventured: "'Adn't you better go below and have +your bit o' dinner afore it's gone, mate?" And Kieran came out of his +dream and said perhaps he'd better and stood up to go below; but on the +top step of the ladder he paused and over his shoulder threw back to the +passenger: "It was a long time, though, before Cogan saw Peru." + + +II + +When Kieran came on deck again the third officer had gone forward, but +the passenger was still on one of the towing bitts and still smoking. +Kieran, strolling to the taffrail, resumed his study of the tossing +ship's wake and the cavorting barge in tow. When he seemed to have +settled the matter to his satisfaction, he seated himself on the other +towing bitt. + +"You can get an idea into your head and sometimes it'll swing you +around like that barge on the end of that hawser, won't it? Or perhaps +your mind don't run that way?" + +"I don't see," retorted the passenger, "that that barge has to stick +there forever. What's to prevent her from making a leap and fetching up +suddenly, and if she did she'd part that hawser like a piece of twine." + +"Yes, but she won't make the leap--not till something outside of herself +drives her to it. If a sea should rise, or a gale of wind, she might. +But it would take something like that. In the meantime she points this +way and that, slewing now to this side--see--and now to the other--but +never getting away from this ship which has her in tow. Our course must +be her course." + +"Yes, I suppose that is so." + +"Well, then, Cogan that I've been telling you about was nearly always in +tow of a force that seemed to be outside of himself. A storm, a high +sea, or a gale of wind in his case would be an upheaval of his soul +like. But in those days he hadn't come to that. Maybe he was still only +half awake. Martin Jackson, sitting out on the sidewalk of his Fourth of +July saloon, came nearer to making him think than all of the school +teachers he'd ever seen. Maybe, too, life was too smooth in those days. +However, he was always in tow of some fancy or other. And one day, +being free of the navy, he went to Peru." + +'"Twas love at first sight then with that young Peruvian girl on the +beach?" + +"No, I don't think so--not quite that. Even at that age Cogan could not +fall in love with curves and color alone. At any rate, he put out to +sea; and the beauty of the little Peruvian girl was with him in many a +night-watch. Under the stars he could shut his eyes and see her--the +flashing teeth as she grimaced up at the horrified nurse, and the eyes +still rioting after the curved lips were closed. And yet it was not her +beauty. A hundred rosy-marbled nymphs could have paraded the beach in a +thousand silvery dawns and, once out of sight, his heart never quicken +whatever it was--the innocence, the breathing innocence of her, it may +have been that. And yet there was something more. There must have been. +He gave it up, but he knew that if he had been born a girl he, too, +would want to paddle in the sea at dawn." + +"A sort of poet?" suggested the passenger. + +Kieran shot a side glance at the passenger. "H-m-m--a good thing he +didn't know it if he was. He was irresponsible enough without having +that excuse. If he thought then that it was poetry in him which kept him +hopping about the world, he'd have been no good at all. He did enough +dreaming as it was. It was probably only the discipline of a warship, +of having to do a daily stint, that kept him from loafing all his time +away, for, as maybe I've said, a power used to take hold of him at times +and swing him. An idea would come to him and he'd follow it like a guide +to heaven. + +"He wondered what had become of her, and one day, being now free of the +navy, he took a bald-headed schooner out of Portland, Oregon, with a +load of lumber for Callao. Between watches he studied a +Spanish-Without-A-Master for one dollar. The lumber schooner never +reached Callao, but she did make one of those volcanic islands to the +south side of the harbor--piled up there and began to fill, which forced +the crew to leave in a hurry and row into Callao harbor in their +quarter-boat. From Callao the crew took a trolley to Lima to see the +American consul. In Lima they became scattered, and Cogan and an old +fellow named Tommie Jones found themselves together. Cogan had met +Tommie in a restaurant in Portland at about the time Tommie was taking +notice of a tall, well-nourished, red-headed lass waiting on table +there. Tommie was a hearty lad of fifty-four or so, and Cogan had helped +the little romance along, and because of his interest in the case was +how Cogan and Tommie came to ship together. Well, here was Tommie adrift +in Lima after five weeks to sea, and in all that time he hadn't had a +drink, and he wanted one now. He had no money, but Cogan had a +half-dollar, and American silver is good money in Peru; so Cogan bought +Tommie three drinks of some kind of Spanish wine and himself one +lemonade for the half-dollar. + +"It couldn't have been the wine--he hadn't had enough of that. Maybe it +was the reaction from the excitement of the wreck that made Tommie +sleepy. He wanted to turn in, and it being now night-time they went into +a park where a fine band was playing. It was a beautiful night, with a +moon; and under the moon, while the music rolled out, dark-eyed +senoritas with their mothers strolled up and down, and the young fellows +hung around and got in a word when they could. On the edges the police +kept an eye on the loafers. + +"The night breeze which made the trees almost talk, the water of the +fountain arching under the colored lights, the scent of the flowering +bushes--Tommie and Cogan after their five weeks at sea just sat there +till long after the music had stopped and everybody gone home. Then +Tommie fell asleep, full length under a tree. Cogan tried to stand watch +but he was tired, too, and after a while, with his back against the same +tree, and the water-play of the fountain still tinkling in his ears, he +fell asleep alongside Tommie. + +"Cogan had a dream of somebody trying to pull his leg off and it woke +him. He looked down and saw that the lace of one of his shoes was +untied. He retied it and looked at his chum. He was still asleep, +snoring, but there was something missing. In half a minute, his brain +clearing, he saw that Tommie's shoes were gone, and also his hat, and +his pockets turned inside out. Cogan then noticed that his own trousers +pockets were turned inside out. He stood up and caught sight of two +fellows just dropping over the tall iron fence surrounding the park. The +gates of the park were closed, and locked, too, or so Cogan guessed, and +wasted no time in trying them. The fence was pretty high and had iron +spikes on top, and he felt somewhat stiff in his joints, but a hot +temper is good as a bath and a rub-down any time--Cogan vaulted the +fence, and the two natives just then turned and saw him. He was coming +on pretty fast and they threw up their hands, dropped the shoes and hat, +and went tearing away. Cogan had only to stoop down and pick up the +stuff, but it wasn't property he was after. To steal the shoes off of a +shipwrecked sailor! Even if they weren't told he was shipwrecked, they +ought to have guessed, or so he thought, and he held on after them, and +Cogan could run pretty well in those days. But so could one of those +fellows. Cogan could soon have caught the slow one, but he kept always +after the fast fellow and was feeling sure of his man when he took to +turning corners. They had come to a part of the city where the streets +were narrow and the blocks short. It seemed to Cogan there was a corner +every twenty feet, and it was up hill. His man turned one corner and +four seconds later Cogan turned it, and, his man not being in sight, +Cogan kept on and turned the next corner. Another twenty yards and he +ran up against a high wall. 'Wow,' says Cogan, but with a running high +jump, he got his fingers on top of the wall and hauled himself up. There +was nobody in sight on the other side. 'Trimmed!' says Cogan, and, +sitting on the wall, began to fan himself. + +"It was bright light now and the city beginning to come awake. People +came out and took down the shutters of shops. Indian women went by with +loaded baskets of fruit, and other people drove little burros in carts +filled with eggs, chickens, and green stuff; and men and women, with +fish to sell in big dishes on their heads, came sliding by, and all +yelled loud enough to wake a watch below. Girls with baskets of flowers +went by, and one, looking up, spied Cogan and stopped and held her +basket up and made a motion for him to buy. He turned his pockets inside +out and threw his hands apart. That made her laugh, and she took a +flower from the basket, touched her lips to it and threw it up to him. +She was a pretty girl,--all the girls were pretty this morning,--but she +was prettiest of all, and the flower was of a big blue kind which Cogan +had never seen before. He blew a kiss after her and she went singing on +her way. Cogan sang a little himself. He was beginning to feel pretty +good. + +"Boys came and gazed up at Cogan, and sometimes men, and some of them +laughed, but mostly they paid no attention to him. He heard a bell +tolling and he saw people below him filing toward a gate. They all +carried tin cups. He looked further and saw that it was a monastery they +were heading for, and that at the gate of the monastery two monks in +brown habits were passing out bread and filling the tin cups with +coffee. Cogan dropped over the wall, and when he saw that one man had +finished with his tin cup he asked him for it. He knew Spanish enough +for that. The man smiled and handed it over. Cogan went up to the +grating and a monk filled his tin cup with coffee. Another handed him +three slices of dark bread. Cogan thanked them, but the monks seemed not +to hear. He thanked them again, at which one monk, looking up, set a +finger to his lips and motioned him to step aside for the next. + +"Cogan finished his breakfast, thanked the native for the loan of the +cup, and started to look around. He first tried to find the park where +he had left Tommie, but there were so many parks with trees and flowers +and fountains in them! He crossed a bridge over a river that must have +come tumbling all the way from the top of the Andes, it had such a head +of speed on. He patrolled he did not know how many streets, and at last +gave up hunting for Tommie, on whose account, anyway, he wasn't +worrying, for he knew that Tommie, an experienced old sailor man, had by +this time laid his course for the Consul's and been taken care of. He +sat on a bench at the curbstone in front of a fruit store to think +things over. It was a comfortable seat, except that every time a trolley +passed he had to lift his feet high so he wouldn't be swept off his +perch. + +"As he sat there, a group of well-muscled, well-set-up young fellows +passed him. It was a cool, cheerful morning, and they appeared to be +full of play. Everybody did that morning in Lima. Cogan knew these at +once for some sort of athletes. They seemed to be well known to the +store-keepers and the small boys along the street. Their hair, or what +he could see of it, was clipped close. Not handsome men all, but all in +high favor. Girls flung back light words at them, or tapped them on the +arm in passing. Two girls pinned roses on the coats of two of them, who +took it all as though they were used to it. 'Big leaguers of some kind,' +thinks Cogan, and asked the fruit-stand keeper who they were, and the +fruit-seller said 'Torero.' + +"'Torero? Torero?--Ah-h-h'--Cogan recalled his 'Spanish Without A +Master'--'Ah-h-h, of course, Toreros--Toreadors'--he remembered the +opera 'Carmen'--bull-fighters. Cogan got up and followed them. + +"If Cogan had never seen a bull-ring, he would right away have known +this in Lima for one. It was a perfect circle, about two hundred feet +across, packed with what looked like hard sand and surrounded by a stout +stockade, and with seats enough for eight or ten thousand people. The +bull-fighters had not minded when he followed them in, and now he took a +seat on the empty benches and watched them at practice. They had a bull, +a lively one, but a well trained one, too, for when he knocked one of +them over he would stand still and not try to trample anybody. He would +reach down and prod with his horns, but, as he had a brass knob on each +horn, he couldn't hurt them much that way. The fellows with the red +capes practised all their tricks, the men with wooden stakes all covered +with paper streamers practised theirs, and Cogan's blood was racing in +his veins before they were through. These were great athletes--he saw +that at once--and with a savage bull with sharp-pointed hoofs and horns +in place of that trained manicured one--well, these men would be taking +chances which no athlete at home ever had to take, unless they were +aerial-bar men in the circus or loop-the-loopers or something like that. + +"A few of these men, as Cogan looked on, stood out from the others; and +after a time from among those few stood one by himself. From the first +Cogan had noticed that he was very fast and clever--and strong, yes. It +was his quickness and skill, even more than his strength, which counted. +He used the bull's strength against the bull himself. He wasn't much +more than medium height or weight, but beautifully developed--they were +all finely developed men--and behind his muscular power was all kinds of +nervous energy. And a great way of doing things, not an extra motion of +any kind--no wasteful flourishes or posings. Not that he didn't have +style. Style!--he had so much of it that he didn't seem to be half +trying. Everything and everybody seemed to be playing into his +hands--even the bull. And he was such a human kind, laughing and joking +as he bounded and ran about! And he must have said many funny things, +they all laughed so; and he took a lot of trouble to coach some of them +in their practice. + +"Cogan later saw him in the dressing-room. He came off the field before +the others, and while they were yet practising he had had his bath. He +was now dressing and Cogan saw that he wore fine linen and +fashionably-cut clothes. He had a room to himself off the main +dressing-room, and two attendants jumped to serve him. From time to +time, standing at the door of his dressing-room putting on a collar or +adjusting his tie, he would sweep a glance at Cogan. His eyes were +friendly. They were also of good size and deep-set, Cogan now had a +chance to see; but they had also an absent, wistful expression which +made Cogan wonder, for at this young fellow's age, and he the star of +the troupe, it's little in life should have been bothering him. + +"By and by the others came in, and with their coming Cogan's favorite +was again lively and laughing. Soon he was ready for the street. And all +dressed up he was a great swell. As he passed out those in his way +skipped to one side, while those in the corners ran forward to catch his +eye and smile at him. 'Torellas, Torellas,' Cogan heard again and again +in the most admiring and affectionate tones. + +"After he had gone out the door, Cogan asked one of the bull-fighters +who he was. But his 'Spanish Without A Master' didn't seem to be working +very well, and the man he questioned called out 'Ferrero--Oh, Ferrero!' +saying to Cogan 'Ferrero spik the Ingliss--O fine-a--good-a Ingliss.' + +"A man that Cogan recognized as one of the liveliest performers in the +ring, though somewhat older than the others, came over and bowed +politely. + +"'Senor, if you will tell me--who is Torellas?' asked Cogan in English. + +"'Torellas'--Ferrero pointed toward the door--'he departed only one +moment ago.' + +"'Senor, I saw, and thank you. But who is he?' + +"'Torellas? Who ees Torellas?' Not only Ferrero, but every bull-fighter +in the place took a peek at Cogan. Ferrero looked around the room to +make sure the others had heard. 'He asks me'--or so Cogan guessed he +said, for now he was speaking Spanish--'he asks me who is Torellas!' at +which they all craned their necks to get another peek at Cogan, and +there was a lot of sputtering talk among them. Cogan guessed that they +were saying many very funny things about the man who did not know who +Torellas was. Ferrero turned to Cogan, now in English, 'Sir, a +stranger?' And Cogan said, 'Si, senor, a stranger--from the United +States.' + +"And Ferrero said, 'Ah-h--Americano--cer-tain-ly,' in the most +charitable tone. 'Senor, I speak your language a leetla bit. It is true +I lived one time in your contry--a fine contry is U-ni-ted Stat-es--two +years--yes, sir, surely. Listen, please. Torellas, sir, he ees born +here, in thees very city, a Peruvian. We are proud of him. The +prodeegious skill, the strength, the light foot, the stroke of the +espada, the sword of Torellas--a descending thunderbolt it ees--but oh, +he ees not to be descripsheeoned. Some day you shall see--you shall not +depart until you have seen. Even now he ees in Peru--yes, sir--in all +South America the supreme matador. Soon--we have the assurance of it, +senor--he shall go to Spain, to Madrid, and in the great bull-ring there +he shall kill his bulls before the king and queen, and, have no fear, +senor, Spain shall also proclaim his superiority. Already, if he so +desires, fifty, seventy-five thousand--truly, sir--dollars gold in the +year--shall be his for his splendid genius. Yes, sir--and renown without +death. We are proud of him. Even now he ees with us--how shall I say +it?--ah, senor, even now, but at twenty years of age he ees with us as +the great John L. Sullivano was in United Stat-es when I lived there a +leetle boy--in New Yorrik--twenty years ago.' + +"And Cogan said to himself--'This Torellas person must surely be some +class.' + +"'And, senor--surely'--Ferrero had only stopped to get his breath--'it +would be criminal not to view Torellas in all his splendor--not as you +have viewed him this mor-rn-ing--that was play--but in the full +strength of his science, his art--deliverin-g, senor, the final stroke +to the ferocious bull.' + +"Cogan also began to see that it would be a crime not to view the great +man in action, and he was also told that even more than Torellas the +matador they loved Torellas the man, the good comrade. + +"Cogan became quite friendly with the bull-fighters. He inquired further +of Ferrero, who in the ring was a banderillo--that is, one of the people +who stick the decorated stakes in the bull's neck--possibly Senor +Ferrero knew of a mounted capeador by the name of Juan Roca. + +"'Juan? Who does not? Yes, sir. Very much, sir,' and went on to tell +Cogan that Juan, the best mounted capeador in all South America, was +that very morning breaking in a new horse on the ranch of Don Vicente +Guillen outside the city. + +"Ferrero was a most friendly person, and invited Cogan to eat with him, +and Cogan went. Ten or a dozen bull-fighters boarded in one place near +the bull-ring--a large, square, two-story adobe house; a grand house, +with walls painted in colors and splendid high rooms arranged around a +patio inside. + +"It was now high noon, and warm enough in the sunny streets outside, +but in the patio it was cool, with a breeze from the Pacific, and after +lunch the bull-fighters sat around there and smoked cigarettes and +played stringed instruments, all but a few wild ones who went leaping +and springing about the garden walks. Cogan could not hide his interest +in this jumping exercise, and Ferrero, seeing it, invited him to join +in, which Cogan did, and beat everybody there jumping. He did so well +that Ferrero asked him if he could jump over a horse, and he said he'd +try it. So they went out and got a horse, and Cogan jumped over it. And +then they brought in another and placed the two side by side, and Cogan +jumped over the pair of them, at which they all shouted 'Bueno, bueno, +Americano!' and Ferrero slapped him on the back and told him he must +stay with them and practice bull-fighting. + +"Cogan had another question. Was not the mounted capeador Juan Roca a +brother of Luis Roca, the hat dealer? And he was told that he was, and +that Luis Roca was now engaged in an enormous hat business with the +United States, and had grown very wealthy, thanks to the increase of +trade since the American occupation of the Isthmus. And Cogan inquired +further--was there a daughter who would be now about eighteen? 'A +daughter? Blood of a bull--surely.' And beautiful? Beautee-full! the +Senorita Roca beautee-full? Mother of God!' If he wished, he could post +himself on the Pasada that very afternoon--any afternoon--and see her +driving with her jolly good father or her proud mother, or it might be +with Senor Lorenzo de Guavera. 'And,' added Ferrero, 'you will meet Juan +there also--if he ees returned from the ranch.' + +"In the cool of the afternoon they went to the Pasada, which is where +everybody in Lima who has a pair of horses and a coachman goes driving +of an afternoon. They pace up one side and down the other. Cogan never +saw so many fine horses and beautiful women in such a short time. And he +saw the hat dealer--the same lively, good-humored Grand Duke man to look +at, dressed in the same style of white ducks and big Panama hat, with +the same great beard down on his chest. Beside him was a stately, +beautiful girl. Cogan stared. He could see the resemblance right away. +'That must be an elder sister,' he thought, 'and that must be her +mother.' The mother was beautiful, too; but also she knew it. There was +also a well-set-up, well-dressed, well-groomed, distinguished looking +man. + +"Cogan was staring after the carriage, when he heard a voice in his ear. +Ferrero was speaking to him. 'Ah-h, you know heem, Luis, Juan's brother, +yes? And the senora?--and the Senorita Valera?' + +"'Valera? But that is not the little girl--' + +"'Leetle girl?' + +"'Has she not--the senorita--a younger sister?' + +"'Sister? There ees no sister--only herself.' + +"And so his little Valera had grown into that stately, self-possessed +young lady. Cogan felt sad. + +"'And some say he ees to be betrothed to her, yes. Senor--Mister +Guavera, yes--that ees heem. A splendid man. Poor Torellas. Ah-h, but +here ees Juan coming. He speaks the most beautee-full English. +Behold--Juan!' + +"Ferrero was pointing out a square-shouldered, compactly built, bronzed +man of five feet seven or so, who was carving curved shapes out of the +air with his hands and pointing to one horse and then another in the +parade to illustrate his words. To further illustrate, he carved +beautiful figures with his cane and raised one knee after the other +violently to depict the animal's action. A man full of gimp, Juan seemed +to be. 'It is his new horse,' explained Ferrero. 'He will tell us of it, +too.' And he did--went over it all again after he had been introduced to +Cogan. 'Oh, a marvel of a horse,' he wound up, 'and I shall ride him in +the next fiesta.' + +"Ferrero reintroduced Cogan to Juan as one who knew his brother Luis. + +"'But I met him only once,' added Cogan. + +"'Once? It is sufficient,' assured Juan. 'Fully sufficient. To meet +Luis once is to meet him forever. He is always the same. But some +others--not so. You have been shipwrecked, yes? You lost everything? +Ah-h, that is most hard luck, but do not despair. I, too, was a +sailor--one time. One time only, gracias a Dios! My ancestors, I think, +were of the land entirely. The sea-sickness--pir-r-h--no, no, not for +me. But do not mind. But pardon, senor'--he turned to Ferrero--'attend +to me, Ferrero. I am grieved to-day. It is the senora again. What +matters it whether a man is a muletero, gaucho, toreador, or what? +Torellas, now, has been all--so have I, her brother-in-law--or a seller +of hats or a member of the cabinet? What, I ask you'--he turned to +Cogan--'are we senor? We are men or we are not? So? Very well, let us +say no more, but find a cafe and have our coffee. It has been very dusty +to-day--very.' + +"Two cups of coffee, and Juan was talking to Cogan like a brother. And +he could talk like a highspeed dynamo. 'A man--can he be no greater than +a man, I ask you, sir? Luis, he will be glad to see you, if you came in +rags--no matter--he is always the same, always. But the senora--pir-r-h. +That is it--you have it--Proud! A good woman, mind'--Juan leaned over +and tapped Cogan's arm to let him know there must be no mistake on that +point--'the best of women, but'--he sighed--'Luis, he is from home six +months in the year, and she it is who has the training of Valera. And +once she was as like her father as--oh, and such a heart! But she will +become--I fear it now--like her mother. And her mother does not want +Torellas. + +"'And Torellas! A torero, yes. But whether a man is muletero, vaquero, +or torero, what matters it? Torellas has been all three, and I, too--I, +her brother-in-law, but what matters it? Luis, my brother, was, oh, so +poor when they married, but, my friend, I who say it--I, his brother--a +scamp possibly, yes, but we had family. A handsome boy was Luis, and +she--I admit it--very beautiful and good. But Luis--Luis becomes +wealthy. At once the senora must have a grand son-in-law. Torellas is a +toreador,--yes,--but also Torellas is something more than that. The +strong arm, the quick eye, the'--Juan slapped himself on the left +breast--'the brave heart, yes. But more than that. I know, senor, I who +have been'--he touched them off on succeeding finger-tips--'gaucho in +Argentina, cowboy in your country, a soldier in the Chilean war, +horse-breaker--but I have not fingers sufficient--I who have roamed far, +I know men. And Torellas--but you have seen him, senor? Ah-h--then you, +too, know. Is he not a man? Ah-h--and surely a man can be but a man. And +Torellas,'--Juan pounded the table,--'he is a man--Pir-r'--Juan whirled +in his chair--'_Pedro, cafe_--_al instante. Tres, si, si_--_tres_.' + +"'But, Juan,' asks Ferrero when the coffee came, 'a few months ago we +thought--' + +"'Exactly--we all thought. It is the senora. Listen, Mr. Cogan. You have +the warm heart, the friendly eye, you, too, shall know. Torellas and my +niece they have regard for each other, and she, the senora, sees no harm +until this Guavera, the politician, comes. Oh, a great man--he is to be +in the next cabinet--possibly. I repeat--possibly. The senora waits for +a chance to terminate with Torellas. Very well. Torellas receives many +letters from foolish girls. So do I, and Ferrero. Pir-r-h--what torero +of fame does not? And the senora, she points to me--as an example. It is +true that I am a weak man and I have no wife--no family--' + +"Ferrero began to laugh. 'Mr. Cogan, there was a lady'--begins Ferrero. + +"'T-t-t, Ferrero allow me. If we shall have old woman's gossip, allow it +also to be the truth. I was riding, senor, one fine, splendid Argentine +horse--such a horse!--when a carriage approached and a lady--such a +lady!--veiled, you understand, stands before me and a voice says--"Is +this not Senor Juan Roca?" It is true that I had received a note that +day--and why not, senor? What heart would not beat--but that is nothing. +I had no more than kissed the tips of her fingers this beautiful +evening, when a giant of a man leaps out. I did not even know that she +had a husband. I do not know yet that he is her husband. I did not even +know who she was, and he--he was as one sweeping down from a balloon, an +aeroplane; but, senor, I who can be gentle, as you can without doubt +understand, I can also be as the sea storm which wrecks great ships. I +beat this interloper--ah-h--beau-tifully--' + +"'The whole city knew of it--such a scandal'--concluded Ferrero for him. + +"'Ferrero, enough. I am no destroyer of homes. But the senora, Mr. +Cogan, takes occasion to point the finger at me. "There is your mounted +capeador, your brave toreador," she says to Luis, "and they are all +alike." But Torellas is not so. My heart withers for him. You must +understand, senor'--Juan turned anew to Cogan--'that Torellas is as my +own son. He tells me all. I have seen him burn in one day ten +letters--yes, his own heart burning for love, you understand. Such a +boy! He should be a Seminarian. But her mother, she says it is +scandalous! As if he could stop them from writing! He must give up +bull-fighting! Torellas give up bull-fighting! Our matador, the nation's +hero, give up--pir-r-h--if I were Torellas--No matter, I tell him to +come to the house as before. Luis favors him. I favor him. Old Tina +favors him, and, I think--I think--Valera herself--but she is too proud +to say. She, also, considers it--beseeched him to give up bull-fighting! +That was the senora's influence. If he were an ordinary matador--but the +great Torellas! Pir-r-h--but a moment.' Juan whirled to the waiter, +'_Pedro, mas cafe!_' + +"Juan downed his coffee in a gulp. 'And you shall come with us to see +Luis,' he goes on. 'Come in your shipwreck clothes, it shall not matter +to Luis. I recollect now, sir, you are the American sailor he saw one +time in Colon. He has conversed many times of you. The senora will not +like it, you understand, you a sailor, but with the senorita, it is but +to charm the more. She loves me, her hard dog of an uncle, because I, +who have adventured, can tell her a thousand tales. You have adventured +also and she is yet her father's child. Do not mind that I speak +frankly, but come. If I speak thus to you, it is because I know that +you, senor, are one to understand and to trust. We shall be glad to see +you. You go with Ferrero now? Ver-ry good.' Juan stood up and with his +cane he saluted profoundly. 'Good-by, sir. Ferrero, a Dios.' He went as +he came, with a rush. + +"Stirred up by Juan, Cogan thought of calling that very night on Luis +Roca and his family. But he did not go, nor next day, nor that week. He +saw Juan regularly in the bull-ring, and always Juan urged him afresh, +but Cogan did not go to see the Rocas. 'Later,' perhaps, he said to +Juan, who stared wonderingly at him but did not ask why. + +"And so things went for several weeks, until that morning when the +American battle fleet came steaming into Callao harbor. Cogan was one of +twenty or thirty thousand who crowded to the stone pier that day, and +when the beautiful white ships came rounding in, he felt very proud. And +the yellow tongues of flame flashing and the white sides of the great +war-ships gleaming through the smoke--it made a tremendous impression on +everybody; but to Cogan's eyes the tears came. People near him said, +'Americano?' inquiringly, to which Cogan's bull-fighting friends +replied--'Si, si, Americano,' and added a 'Heep, heep, hoo-raw!' to make +Cogan feel more at home. + +"That was the morning that Torellas told Cogan that if he wished he +could go into the ring on the occasion of the festival which Peru was to +hold in honor of the American fleet. And such an occasion it was to be! +A welcome from a younger to the older republic. There was to be a great +bull-fight, at which Torellas was to make his last appearance before +going to Spain. + +"Spain! Madrid! The highest of honors! Cogan looked at Torellas, but the +matador didn't seem to be so very glad." + +The pump-man seemed to be listening to something. "Hear 'em?" he asked. + +The passenger cocked up his ears, and heard them--several voices from +the depths of one of the tanks. + +"It's No. 11," explained the pump-man, and hurried away. The passenger +saw him disappear into a hatchway. Almost immediately the voices ceased +and shortly four deck-hands hurriedly emerged. Kieran followed. "Beat +it!" he ordered, and they somewhat sheepishly went forward. + +Kieran came aft. "What was the trouble?" asked the passenger. + +"That bunch of bone-heads,"--Kieran was talking. He was also pinching +the crust from the wick of a candle he held--"they sneaked down there to +have a little game. And brought this candle with them--for light. Three +weeks ago, up to the dock in Bayonne, a bunch lit a candle to look for +something in the corner of an oil ship's tank, and the coroner couldn't +tell the buttons of one from the other. Gas, yes. Another half minute +and these chaps would've got the surprise of their lives. But maybe I'd +better go for'ard and give 'em a few chemical explanations, or some +day, meaning no harm, they'll be blowing out the side of the ship. So +long." + + +III + +The pump-man roomed with Jenkins, the third officer, in the +superstructure, amidships. The passenger sometimes, as on this night, +looked in there. + +Jenkins was an Englishman, and of him they told the story that when he +first came to the country half the space in his yellow tin trunk was +taken up with cakes of Pears' soap. Somebody had told him that he +couldn't buy any in the United States. He still had some of his original +load of soap, and now hauled the tin trunk out from under his bunk, took +out a cake and made a lather, with which he slicked down his thin, sandy +hair, smoothing it, the while he gossiped cheerfully with Kieran and the +passenger, on each side of the middle parting until it made a straight +line between the bottom of his ears to his eyebrows. His ears were stuck +high up on the side of his head--a sign of high intelligence, he used to +say. + +Jenkins had to go on watch at midnight, and so now he was getting ready +to turn in. The third officer had a minute way of telling his little +experiences, to which Kieran always listened patiently. If Kieran had +not, Jenkins would have had no audience at all, for the second officer, +a Norwegian, and the first officer, a Vermont Yankee, had no use for any +Englishman whatever; and besides that he was only the third officer. + +The pump-man had sympathy for Jenkins, but not so much that he would sit +and listen while Jenkins talked himself to sleep; so, once he saw +Jenkins into his bunk, Kieran used to fly for the open deck. + +And here it was the passenger joined him, pacing the long gangway. The +passenger turned and they paced together. + +The sound of the captain's voice floated down from the bridge. The +passenger, who had small use for the captain, suggested that they go +forward; and so they made for the bow of the ship and ascended the +ladder to the forec's'le head, and here, after a decent interval, to +allow Kieran to absorb the beauty of the tropic night, the passenger +said, "How about that bull-fight in Peru?" + +"Oh-h--" said Kieran, and after a silence went on to say: + +"Well, the day of the bull-fight came, and that afternoon the +bull-fighters marched into the ring; and in their smooth-fitting +tights--black, white, green, pink, blue, purple, all colors--their short +jackets, puffed-out shirts, with the queer little hats and the neat +black slippers, well-built fellows, all of them--they made a great +showing. + +"They marched once around the ring, and then Torellas, who was leading +them, halted in front of the Mayor's box and asked permission to kill +the bull, and the Mayor, of course, said yes. Then, marching to the +opposite side of the ring, to where was the President of Peru in the +biggest box of all, with hangings of red and gold, and two American +rear-admirals of the fleet on either side of him, Torellas saluted, and +tossed up his hat, then his cloak, to the President. And as he did so, +around the ring the less famous bull-fighters were picking out friends +or great people and to them tossing their hats, by way of doing them +honor. Cogan tossed his up among the American blue-jackets, and they, +not knowing he wasn't a Peruvian, didn't know what to make of it, but +they scuffled for it just the same. + +"Torellas was in white tights with black slippers. A small gold cross +was pinned to the breast of his fine white shirt. As he stepped back +from the President's box he touched a white silk handkerchief to his +lips, almost like a woman, but those graceful little movements were as +much a part of him as were his strength and nerve. Cogan could hear +women in the seats behind him whispering of the beauty of him. Until +then it had never occurred to Cogan that the matador was any +professional beauty. He surely was a finely developed fellow, a good +deal of a man to look at, but for the beauty! No, he wasn't +handsome--Cogan took another look--but any man would say a great looking +one. + +"The ring was now clear, with the bull-fighters hidden behind the +stockade, or tucked away in the little places of refuge built against +the inside of the stockade. These places of refuge were for the +bull-fighters to run into when chased by a bull; and there were half a +dozen of them, of heavy planking and about as high as a man's chest, +with an entrance wide enough for a man, but not for a bull's horns. +Cogan picked out his particular refuge because just above it, in front +seats, were the Rocas and Guavera. + +"It was now time for the bull-fight to begin, but this was such an +extraordinary occasion that a compliment had first to be paid to the +visiting fleet, so the Peruvian band played our national hymn, and at +the first note every American blue-jacket there stood to attention. +Cogan felt as proud as could be of them, in their fresh-washed suits of +muster white with the beautiful blue collars and cuffs. Section after +section was piled solid with them, and here and there Cogan saw an old +shipmate. Just to look at them made Cogan homesick. Four thousand strong +they stood stiff as statues to attention, right arms across body and +caps held to their left breasts, while the 'Star-Spangled Banner' was +played. + +"It was all fine; and the 'Star-Spangled Banner' made such a hit that +the Peruvian band played it again. And fine musicians they were, too, +only as they played it, trying to be terribly respectful, it sounded +like a funeral march. But, through it all, our blue-jackets, four +thousand strong, stood frozen to attention in their beautiful suits of +white with the blue trimmings and their caps held respectfully to their +breasts. + +"Great! Cogan could hear them all about him saying how noble and +affecting. And it was--believe me, it was. And again that fine band +arose to play the 'Star-Spangled Banner,' but this time our brave +blue-jackets also arose, four thousand strong, in the beautiful muster +white suits, and yelled as one--'Oh, cut it out, cut out any more music +and bring on the bull.' And they brought on the bull. + +"But first a bugle call rang out, and into the ring came the mounted +capeador. And it was Juan, and he was riding his Argentine roan. And he +took his station in the middle of the ring, and there he waited, in his +left hand the reins, and in his right, drooping below his stirrup, a +scarlet cape. Great cheers greeted him; and all around the ring Cogan +could hear the residents from the high one in the box with the American +admirals, from the President down, explaining that this was their famous +mounted capeador, Juan Roca, and to have an eye out for Juan's +unparalleled skill and his bravery--and did they notice that Juan wore +no iron, nor even leather protection to his legs? Everyone called him +Juan, as though he was an old friend. Cogan remembered how, on that +night in Colon, the hat dealer was as proud as could be of his brother; +but no more proud, he now saw, than was everybody here in Lima. + +"A barrier of light boarding was raised, and there was the bull, a big, +chocolate colored fellow, with heavy shoulders and horns that must have +spread three feet. Again Cogan could hear the residents explaining to +their American guests that this was one of a famous lot of bulls bred +especially for the ring, from the ranch of Don Vicente Guillen, and for +this afternoon's sport the government had provided six of these bulls, +paying fifteen hundred pesos--about fifteen hundred dollars--in gold for +them, and also that the bulls had been fed on half rations for the past +forty-eight hours to make them of a high eagerness for this most widely +advertised combat. + +"Back there in the half light under the shed, Cogan could see the big +bull weaving his head from side to side and swaying on his forelegs as +he looked out on the ring. The sudden light probably blinded him, for he +didn't seem to see, not for a few seconds at least, the scarlet cape +Juan was holding up. But when he did! Out he came, head on, for Juan. +And Juan stayed there with not a move, until Cogan thought the bull +surely had him hooked. But no. At arm's length, and in front of the +flaming eyes, Juan flirted the cape, and still in front of the blazing +eyes he held it, and behind him, past his horse's withers, he whipped +it, and with that, with but a single word, and drawing in on his reins, +he seemed to lift his horse off the ground, to whirl him on his hind +heels, almost without moving from his tracks; and the bull rushed on by. + +"Juan spurred his horse, waved the scarlet cape aloft, took up a new +position, and the people cheered. And again cheered as the bull charged, +for once more Juan was safe away. Oh, Juan was the brave one! And Juan +looked toward the other bull-fighters, as if to say: 'And now is not +this Argentine a horse to talk about?' And that horse Juan patted and +whispered to, and laughed and sang to him; and with the reins taut in +the left hand and the flaming cape always in his right, he did as he +pleased with that bull. He talked to the bull, too, but differently--he +knew how--to make him angry, and the bull frothed and tore up the sand +to get at him, and a dozen times it looked as if the bull would bowl +over and gore both the horse and Juan, but always just in time Juan +flashed the red cape, and always he and the wonderful horse would come +safe away. Juan was certainly the champion horseman of all that Cogan +had ever seen. And when Juan rode out of the ring and the bull stood +there and looked after him, bewildered like, Cogan didn't half blame +him, for the pair of them, Juan and his horse, certainly made a tough +combination. + +"And then into the ring came the capeadors on foot. Cogan took part with +these. They were to play the bull on foot as Juan had been playing him +on horseback, but instead of one there were eight of them in the ring +together. And one after the other, five, ten, or a dozen paces away, +they waved a red cape in front of the bull, at which he glared and +lowered his head and charged; but always he charged in one way, head +down and eyes only for the red cape, and there was the way the man beat +the brute. The bull had his speed, strength, endurance, but nothing +else. Once he put his head down he had eyes only for the red cape, and +so long as the capeador handled his cape and himself with speed and +skill, and no accident happened, he might count on getting safe away. + +"Cogan only tried to repeat in the ring this day what he had been doing +for weeks in practice. As the bull came charging, he used the cape to +lead him to one side, allowing just room enough for the horns to pass. +If he waited too long before he turned the bull, of course it would mean +trouble; but if he turned the bull too soon, it would be clumsy. +Whatever else he did the bull-fighter must not be clumsy. The first time +he tried it, Cogan didn't do a good job--the bull was faster than he +realized, and he had to run for one of the little places of refuge with +the bull after him. Then the crowd roared, or they yelled 'Malo, malo,' +which is the same as if a crowd of baseball fans yelled 'Rotten, +rotten!' Next time Cogan did better, and then it was 'Bueno, bueno!' +from everybody. Possibly the applause was all the louder because by this +time the rumor had spread that he was not only a new-comer, a stranger, +an American, but also a sailor, and these four thousand American sailors +were this day the guests of the nation. Cogan could not help looking up +to Valera and her father after he had done his good turn, and was +thrilled to see them both cheering and smiling at him. + +"So far it was clever, neat work on the part of the capeadors, but +nothing wonderful, nothing to match Juan's work on the horse. The crowd +wanted livelier action, and there were cries of 'Torellas! Torellas!' +The bugle sounded, and Torellas came. 'Ah-h,' sighed they--you could +hear them--'now we shall see something.' Torellas, holding the red cape +before him, lured the bull, turned him skilfully, and, spinning on his +heel, tempted the bull to wheel and charge again, and when the bull did +so, and yet again and again, Torellas, holding him always at arm's +length, swung him back and forth, himself retreating a step at a time, +and with every step the bull plunging on after him. It was just as if he +were snapping the bull on the end of the cape, snapping him back and +forth across his path, as he made his way backward. Torellas was never +so far away but what the bull, with one unexpected lunge, would get him. +But Torellas kept the bull too well in hand for any accidental lunge. At +short range he kept him going, drawing him half way across the ring at +one time, until at last the bull himself, seeming to understand that he +was being fooled, stopped short, and Torellas pulled up, too, and let +his cape hang loosely by his side; but as he did so, instantly and at +full tilt at Torellas went the bull again; but that seeming carelessness +on the part of Torellas was part of his play. With a light upward bound, +as the bull lowered his head to gore him, Torellas stepped between the +horns, and when the great head came up, with the spring of his leap to +the toss of the bull's head, away he went sailing, twenty feet beyond +the bull and landing like a breath of air on his feet. + +"While the people were still making the air explode with their applause, +Cogan saw Torellas look wistfully up to where Valera and her people sat. +Cogan looked too. She, leaning back between her mother and Senor +Guavera, with her face cloaked, was almost hidden. Her mother and +Guavera were talking across her as if all this bull-fighting was of all +in the world the thing least interesting to them. Cogan looked back to +the matador. He was bowing, even smiling, to the audience, but Cogan, +who was close enough to mark every line of his face, saw that he was +getting no great joy of his triumph. + +"Torellas left the ring, and the banderilleros took possession. These +were the men with the wooden stakes of the length of a man's arm and +the thickness of a thumb, and wrapped around in gay colored paper +ribbon streamers, and at one end a thin iron spike about as long as a +man's little finger. The banderilleros had to stand in front of the +bull, with a stake in each hand, and, as he charged, to step in between +his horns and reach over and plant a stake on each side of his neck. +'It is most simple,' explained Ferrero, as he left Cogan to do his +part--'only--surely--we must not make mistake.' And Cogan could not help +thinking that bull-fighting was like a thousand other games, a man +mustn't make mistakes. + +"Ferrero, who was rated the best banderillero in Peru, first faced the +bull. He held his stakes up near the end furthest from the bull, to get +as much distance at the start as possible, though it wasn't that alone +which saved him from the bull's rush. That helped, but the bull stopping +up short when he felt the spikes going into his neck, was what Ferrero +reckoned on, when it wasn't done too late. An instant after the stakes +were planted in his neck, the bull continued his charge, but by then +Ferrero was out of the way. + +"Cogan, watching Ferrero and his companions from his retreat, began to +get the bull-fighting fever. He thought he would like to try the +banderillero's game--that is, after he'd had a few weeks' training at +it. These were fine athletes--and something more. They were risking +their lives every minute. + +"They leaped like panthers. The jabbing in of the stakes and the +wiggling aside to escape the bull's plunge, it was like one movement. +Soon the bull was going round the ring, with five or six pairs of +banderillas decorating his neck. Of these Ferrero had planted the first +and last pair. When he came back to his place in the refuge beside +Cogan, the air was quivering with buenos. 'Buenos!' said Cogan also to +him. 'Not bad--no.' said Ferrero very well pleased. + +"But the great thing was to come. 'El matador, el matador! Torellas, +Torellas,' they were shouting. And again Torellas came. He crossed the +ring, with his even, unhurried walk to Cogan's place of refuge, and +asked for his cape--'You will allow me--please--yes? Gracias, senor,' +and, with the one word 'Americano,' and a nod of his head toward Cogan, +Torellas held the cape to the nearest section of American blue-jackets +who had been wondering, ever since the word had been passed, which was +the American among the bull-fighters. Cogan, of course, was dressed like +any other bull-fighter, and being dark-haired and pretty well tanned +wasn't to be picked out easily, especially as he buried himself to the +eyes in his place of refuge. He didn't want to be recognized--not then, +and so he stayed hid away, and so it was Ferrero, in the same refuge +with Cogan, but looming above him, who was cheered by the many +blue-jackets for their countryman. And Ferrero gleefully bowed and bowed +again to their applause. + +"Torellas wrapped the cape around his left forearm. He then took from an +attendant and gripped in his right hand the espada, the short sword, +with which he was to give the bull the finishing stroke. + +"Now, to Cogan's way of thinking, Ferrero and the other banderilleros +took a chance when they placed their beribboned stakes, but they had the +length of their stakes the start of the bull, and they did not have to +linger over doing it. A light touch, the stakes were in, and they were +off. But to drive a knife through twelve or fourteen inches of bull +gristle! Cogan pictured himself walking into a butcher's shop, picking +out twelve or fourteen inches of tough gristle and driving a knife +through it. He could do it, of course he could, or any man, but he would +have to brace legs and back to get enough power in the stroke. But to +stop to brace for that stroke and a rampant seventeen-hundred-pound bull +piling down on top of you, and to pick out a spot on his neck no bigger +than a fifty-cent piece! And if you missed your spot! Or were a little +bit slow! Even in being too soon there was danger, if you could imagine +a man being too quick. + +"That was how Cogan looked at it, and he felt himself worrying for +Torellas. He looked toward the Rocas. The mother and Guavera were no +longer talking, and Valera was again drawn back between them, but her +father was leaning well forward with eyes fixed on Torellas. + +"There was great shouting when Torellas faced the bull--and then a great +silence. Torellas moved his cape-draped forearm--up, down, coaxingly. +The bull headed for him. Torellas stepped aside. The bull passed on and +wheeled. Torellas took half a dozen dancing steps. The bull followed. +Torellas waved his arm, the bull charged. Torellas leaped easily to one +side. The bull passed on. More light play, a charge, another charge, yet +another, all beautiful athletic play, and Torellas had worked his way +across the ring to near the place of refuge where Cogan and Ferrero +were. This also brought the bull under the seats of the Rocas. Cogan, +studying the matador's face, had a feeling that he had drawn the bull +there purposely. It was as if he had said to her up there on the seats: +'Here--here is the product of my highest skill. To do this well I have +dedicated my abounding youth. I offer them a sacrifice to you.' So Cogan +viewed it. Cogan, to be sure, had a sympathy for Torellas, had liked him +from the first. Torellas--he was one who adventured to give the spirit +play as now; and Cogan would have liked just then to be in the shoes of +Torellas. + +"The bull was at last properly worked up. Torellas took his final stand. +His feet were well apart, but not too far apart, body and legs set so +that he could have leaped instantly forward, backward, sideways. Cogan, +watching, thought what a painting, or better, what a bit of sculpture +could have been made of him so. He was standing on the balls of his +feet, with his torso canted slightly forward from the waist. His head +was forward, too, but inclining a little to one side, toward his right +shoulder. His eyes were so narrowed that they could hardly be seen, but +the glitter of them was plain enough. The sword up to this time he held +loose in his right hand, palm up and shoulder-high, with the blade +horizontal, the point toward the bull. His left arm held forward, well +clear of the body, was the final effect in the miracle of his balance. +Standing like that, he was planted solidly enough on the earth, but he +gave out, too, such an impression of energy, force, power bottled up, +that he made you feel that he could fly if he tried. + +"Standing so, he didn't seem to breathe. But the crowd were breathing +for him. From the seats behind him Cogan could hear, almost feel, their +hot breaths. + +"The bull now stopped and studied this last enemy. The others had come +at him in groups, but here was one all alone. + +"The bull stood with half-lowered head, weaving it from side to side, +like when from behind the barrier he first appeared to the crowd. He +eyed the red cape. It must have flamed like blood in the sun to him. His +nostrils, his eyes, were flaming like blood, too. He ceased his weaving, +raised, lowered his head, and bounded toward Torellas. And everybody +there knew that it was the bull or the matador this time. The red cape +of the matador seemed to leap forward, no loose ends now for a flying +horn to catch, but a tight roll around the matador's left forearm. +Standing now four feet away Torellas, to blind the charging bull as the +capeadors had done, had to step close in. And now he was close in and +his forearm was across the bull's forehead. It was hard to follow, the +action was so fast, but Cogan saw that Torellas was already between his +horns. Cogan looked for the flash of the heavy blade, but already +Torellas' right arm had gone forward, that eye of his had marked the +little vital spot, and, as the bull lowered his head and lunged to gore +him, the blade was driven forward, and onto the point of it rushed the +bull. The blade went home--clear to the hilt--eighteen inches or so. +Before the people could clear their choked-up throats to applaud, before +many could realize what had happened, the bull was stumbling to his +knees and Torellas was unwrapping the cape from his left forearm. One +long, thundering in-and-out breath and they were mobbing Torellas with +applause. + +"The bull rolled from side to side on his knees, tried to balance +himself there for four, five, six seconds, and then rolled over. He half +lifted his head from the sand, he kicked, once, twice, again, and then +the head fell back, a quiver, and he lay limp. It was sad in a way. + +"A bugle rang out. Two Peruvian boys came galloping in on horses. The +bugle sounded again, they took a bridle hitch on the bull and went +galloping out of the ring, bugles going and the bull dragging behind. +The noise and whirl of it made Cogan think of a fire-engine coming down +the middle of a street up home. + +"As the bull was hauled out, Cogan felt a new sorrow for him. Up to that +last stroke there was a chance that he would hurt somebody, but he +hadn't killed or hurt anybody, and now, when he was dragged out dead, +Cogan felt half sad. And he said as much to Ferrero. + +"Ferrero looked at him puzzled. 'Such ideas you have in your country? +Why? Leesen now, my friend, I also have a sadness, but consider if you +was a bull, or I was a bull. Would you prefair to go to your death in a +bull-ring or to be led to a man who demolished you on the temple with an +axe, or cut your throat with a long knife--a man in a white garment? +Which?' + +"Cogan said that if he was a bull, no doubt he'd prefer the bull-ring, +but would the bull? + +"'Of a certainty, yes--if he was a blooded bull--yes,' said Ferrero. 'A +high class bull always. He should be keeled no other way. No. And in the +ring there was always a hope to make man pay--but in a +slaughter-house--p-ff-f. And some day, my friend, the bull will obtain +his revenge. Have no doubt of it. Bull-fighters die one way--all +matadors surely. Let them attend to it long enough and no fear--some +day the bull shall get heem. View Torellas now. He is strong, brave, +agile, superb, triumphant as he stands there, let him continue and some +day a slip shall come and he shall go.' + +"Cogan said no doubt, at the same time wishing he were in the place of +Torellas. The matador--he had had his supreme moment. + +"Cogan looked up to the Roca's party. Her father was still wildly +cheering Torellas. Her mother and Guavera were applauding, too, but +their applause did not have the quality of Senor Roca's. Valera's face +was still hidden by her fan. Cogan looked to the matador. He seemed to +be limp, apathetic. 'The reaction,' Cogan thought, and Torellas, being +so young and such a high-strung fellow, maybe it was only natural, and +yet, thinking a moment later, it had come rather soon for an athlete in +his fine condition. + +"In the sand lay the sword with which he had killed the bull, and while +the people were cheering, stamping, hurling words of applause, +endearment, love, at Torellas, he picked it up. Already the President of +the Republic was standing up in his box with the cloak and hat of the +master, to hand them back to him with words of appreciation, and to him +and the crowd Torellas was bowing. + +"Cogan, with eyes only for Torellas and the Rocas, did not see the +beginning of what happened next. He first heard a cry, then a loud voice +or two, then a hundred, a thousand voices. He turned. The gate which +held the next bull in confinement had been opened or else it had burst +out. The gateman was there, but with despairing hands on high, and +across the ring the fresh bull was coming. Torellas was standing with +his back to the gate, and not twenty feet from it, almost in the spot +where he had killed his bull, and wiping the sword blade in a fold of +Cogan's cape, which he was now holding loosely. He was looking up at the +Rocas and seemed at first not to hear the cries. He turned--slowly, with +horrible slowness, Cogan thought, when he recalled how fast he could +move when he wanted to. + +"He turned too slowly. The bull caught him sideways, and when he came +down, it was astraddle of the bull's back, from which he fell to the +sand beside the bull, who had wheeled and was waiting. He must have been +stunned when he landed, for the sword and cape had fallen from him, and +he lay motionless. The bull lunged like lightning. The horn went into +the left thigh, just above the knee, and, not done then, the bull ripped +on upward with that same horn until it came out under the matador's left +breast. + +"The white tights turned red. The bull was lowering his head to gore him +again, but Ferrero had leaped from his place of refuge. Cogan was with +him. Ferrero picked up the cape and flouted it in the bull's eyes. The +bull lifted his head from Torellas, looked at the cape, and charged. And +as he did, Cogan snatched up the matador's sword and waited. The bull +charged past Ferrero, then, wheeling quickly, made again for Torellas, +and his head was lowered to gore again. Ferrero got desperate and threw +the cape from him, and it caught on the horns, and while the bull was +entangled and enraged afresh, Cogan stepped close, picked out the little +spot the size of a fifty-cent piece at the head of the spine, stood on +his toes and came down with all his force. It wasn't any approved +matador's stroke, for Cogan, standing behind instead of in front of the +bull's horns, drove home in just the reverse fashion, but it wasn't a +bad stroke at that. The knife went home. The bull rolled over, and Cogan +stood there and looked and looked. Nobody was more surprised than he. +Not once in ten times he was saying to himself could he have done it in +cold blood. Only when Ferrero pulled him by the arm did he think to turn +and bow with the banderillero to the cheering audience, especially to +some blue-jackets who had now recognized him as an old shipmate and were +calling him by name--hundreds of them. + +"In the middle of the excitement he looked up to see how Valera was +taking it. She and her father were both leaning far over the rail toward +him--he with both arms extended and yelling, she with her handkerchief +pressed to her lips. Her eyes met Cogan's, and Cogan was satisfied. His +little Valera of the beach was on deck again. No matter about the rest. +That must have been a full minute after it happened and after the +surgeon had called out 'It is well. Torellas will live!' + +"But the bull-fighters in the ring did not believe that all was well. +'Torellas! Oh, Torellas!' they were saying, and some were shedding +tears, as they carried him to the dressing-room. Torellas was now +conscious. He smiled at Ferrero, and he was smiling while they were +undressing him, and he took Cogan's hand and held it while the others +were telling him how it was. Not until the surgeon said, 'You will live, +but your bull-fighting days are done,' did he lose his nerve. He had +been pale, but he went paler then. The globes of sweat collected on his +forehead. 'Oh, no, no, doctor!' he cried and fainted. + +"That night Cogan slipped away from a party of American blue-jackets who +wanted to paint Lima in high colors for him, and went down to see +Torellas, who had been taken to his home, a fine, large house on a wide +street. A crowd was in the street, waiting for word of his condition. + +"Ferrero met him at the door. 'They wait for you, good friend.' + +"'They? Who?' + +"'Oh, you shall see.' And he led Cogan to the second floor, to where a +fine suite of rooms opened from the wide hall. Her father and Juan were +in the outer room. + +"These two clasped him to their bosoms. 'You brave one,' said her +father--and 'Bueno Americano!'--said Uncle Juan, and patted him on the +head as if he were a son. 'He will live--Oh, be sure of that. But never +will he fight bulls again. Never, never. And that is sad. But we have +him. Let us not mourn. And you'--Juan raised both hands high--'you and +Torellas--I love you both.' + +"Cogan thought he heard her voice, the voice which never in his life he +had heard, and hesitated. 'Proceed,' said her father, and pushed him +toward the door of the middle room. 'She is there. And Tina--you +remember Tina--that night in Colon? She is also there. The senora'--he +looked at Juan and Juan smiled back at him--'she is too fatigued to +come, but Tina came.' + +"Cogan softly crossed the second room, but paused on the threshold of +the inner room. He saw a great, stout woman back to. He knew her--Tina. +He looked further, and under the half light saw the face of the matador. +She was beside the bed. He could not see her face, but he heard her +voice, and it was over her shoulder that he saw the matador's face. + +"There were murmured words in Spanish which he did not understand, and +then a phrase at which he could guess, then words which there was no +mistaking, and which were not for him or any other man to hear. He +backed out. + +"Juan, Ferrero, and her father were still at the outer door of the outer +room. They were not looking. He saw that from this middle room a window +led on to a balcony. He stepped through the window, found a post, +dropped to the ground, made his way through the garden in the rear, and +so on to a back street. He ran on--one street, another, a dozen, and +then uphill to a wall which he seemed to know. He looked about, and saw +that near by was the monastery where he had been given his first +breakfast in Lima. It was the same old wall. + +"He climbed the wall and sat there. He had been sitting so that morning +when the pretty flower girl had tossed him the blue flower--blue as the +sky. Only now it was night and no one to see and smile. He looked up to +the sky, the night sky of the tropics. The twisted Southern Cross shone +on him. He turned and faced the north. + +"Somewhere he could hear a band playing. In one of the parks probably, +and there would be leaves rustling there, and the scent of flowers, and +the senoritas walking with their mothers, while the young men hung +around the edges, striving to get a word, a look. And there would be the +arched jets of a fountain playing under colored lights, and back in +Portland, Oregon, by this time was perhaps Tommie Jones married to his +plump waitress. + +"It was a good band--playing something he had never heard before, but +something very soothing. He looked toward the Pacific. He knew where the +harbor of Callao should lie, and in the middle of the harbor he could +see them, one great cluster of lights, the lights of the battle fleet. +And there were the fleet's search-lights playing on the great stone +pier. + +"The band was playing again--something fine. + +"And then the monastery bell tolled. And presently he heard a +chanting--a slow sad chanting! And then the chanting also died away. + +"He had been lying on the wall with his hat in his hand and staring up +at the sky. Now he sat up, put on his hat, took another look to the +lights in the harbor, and hummed softly the Philippine service song-- + + "It's home, boy, home, it's home you ought to be." + +"And you've no kick coming. Dreams dreams, always dreams, but you've had +your hour, too.' He took another look at the lights of the +fleet--another to the lights of the city below him--'Good night, Lima,' +he whispered, and dropped off the wall." + +The pump-man had begun his story this evening while sitting with back to +the rail and feet stretched out on the deck before him. He finished +while lying on his back, hands clasped under the back of his head, and +wide eyes on the sky. + +The passenger leaned on the rail, studied the stem of the ship, and +listened to the surge of back wash against the ship's bow as she drove +on. Abeam, the young moon drooped. + +Kieran said nothing more. The passenger nothing for a long time. Then it +was: + +"And they were married?" + +"I don't know--Cogan didn't wait to see--but of course." + +"Of course," echoed the passenger, and in silence resumed his study of +the ship's bow cutting through the little seas. + +The passenger turned inboard. "But Cogan--where is he?" + +"There was no Cogan." + +"No Cogan." + +"No, no Cogan." + +"And no bull-fight, and no Valera, and no Torellas, nor Juan, and it +never happened?" + +"Why, of course it happened, and just as I've told it. But not to +anybody named Cogan. There was no Cogan, or rather"--Kieran rolled over +on his side and rested his head on his elbow--"I'm Cogan." + +"Oh-h-h. Oh-h-h. And you're Campbell, the old champion athlete?" + +"Yes, I'm Campbell. And I'm Cogan. And I'm Kieran, pump-man on this +wall-sided oil-tanker at fifty-five per month." + +"But why?" + +"Why, why?" He sat up. The passenger could see the thick, dark eyebrows +draw together. "Why? Why anything? What would you do?" + +"Forget it." + +"Forget it. But can you?--everything? No--you betcher you can't. And +it's every man to his own cure. Some I know get drunk and fight. And +some I know who get drunk and cry. Some worry their friends to death, +and some others beat their wives. Every man to his way. I have no +wife"--he laughed softly--"and I want to keep my friends. So I run my +heart out in races and beat up bully bosons, and fight bulls--when I +can." + +"But when you can't?" + +"When I can't? Why, when I can't, I lay out on the fo'c's'le head and +bay up at a two-horned moon." + +The passenger turned and looked down. "Thank your God, Kieran," he said, +"you can laugh when you say that." + +The pump-man's smile died away. "Maybe I'm thanking God," he said +softly, "for more than that." + + + + +BOOKS BY JAMES B. CONNOLLY + +PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + * * * * * + +OPEN WATER + +Illustrated. $1.20 net. Postpaid $1.30 + +A collection of new stories of the same type--breezy, fresh, +vigorous--as those in his earlier books. + +Some are of Gloucester fishermen, some of the men of the navy, some of +the smugglers--in all such is the smack of the salt-laden wind; the +rattle and creak of ships' tackle; the dull boom of pounding surf, or +the hissing crash of the breakers. But there are the other stories of +sport and adventure ashore of which Mr. Connolly has shown his complete +mastery. + + * * * * * + +THE CRESTED SEAS + +Illustrated. $1.50 + +"Tales of daring and reckless deeds which make the blood run quicker and +bring an admiration for the hardy Gloucester men who take their lives in +their hands on nearly every trip they make. There are Martin Carr and +Wesley Marrs and Tommy Clancy, and others of the brave crew that +Connolly loves to write about."--_Chicago Post_. + +"The author knows how to make them real and how to carry them through +moving and thrilling scenes with unconscious heroism and often with +equally unconscious dry drollery."--_The Outlook_. + + * * * * * + +OUT OF GLOUCESTER + +With illustrations by M.J. BURNS and FRANK BRANGWYN 12mo, $1.50 + +"Mr. Connolly has a touch of gay humor in his narratives. He knows his +sea and his sailors well. He understands how to bring dramatic power and +effect into a story."--_Congregationalist_. + +"This new volume of six stories of ocean adventure will strengthen Mr. +Connolly's reputation as the best delineator of the actual life of our +New England deep-sea fishermen that has yet appeared."--Boston +_Journal_. + +"His book gives graphic descriptions of life on board of a fisherman, +and has the genuine salt-water flavor. Mr. Connolly knows just what he +is writing about, from actual experience, as his book very plainly +indicates, and as such it is a valuable addition to sea +literature."--Gloucester _Times_. + +"That all the romance and adventure has not gone out of New England +seafaring is easily demonstrated by Mr. Connolly in this volume of +roaring good stories about Gloucester fishermen.... They are capitally +told and they put you right into the life they tell about."--Providence +_News_. + +"Mr. Connolly really knows the sea and the men that sail it, and his +love for it is apparent on every page."--_Leslie's Weekly_. + +"A collection that for all-round excellence and interest will be hard to +duplicate."--Chicago _Record-Herald_. + + * * * * * + +THE DEEP SEA'S TOLL + +With illustrations by W.J. AYLWARD and H. REUTERDAHL + +12mo, $1.50 + +"Sea stories of the kind you can't help liking. Stirring, heart-moving +yarns of the Gloucester fishermen who brave death daily in pursuit of +their calling."--Chicago _Record-Herald_. + +"No teller of sea tales can put the passion of the sea into his stories +more forcibly than Mr. Connolly."--Brooklyn _Eagle_. + +"The very breath of the ocean blows in these thrilling stories of +deep-sea adventure."--Albany _Journal_. + + * * * * * + +THE SEINERS + +With frontispiece by M.J. BURNS + +12mo, $1.50 + +"It carries the sails easily. In Tommy Clancy he has created a veritable +Mulvaney of the sea."--_Collier's Weekly_. + +"Full of vigor and song and the breath of the sea."--_St. James +Gazette_. + +"A real tale of the sea which makes one feel the whiff of the wind and +taste the salt of the flying spray--such is Mr. J.B. Connolly's new +book, 'The Seiners.' ... Certainly there is not a lover of the sea, man +or woman, who will fail to be delighted with this breezy, stirring +tale."--London _Daily Telegraph_. + + * * * * * + +AN OLYMPIC VICTOR + +With illustrations by A. CASTAIGNE + +12mo, $1.25 + +"His story of the straining, gruelling struggle, the heart-breaking +efforts of the runners over those twenty-four miles of country roads, is +soul-stirring."--Philadelphia _Press_. + +"The reality of the atmosphere created makes this story compare +favorably even with the great chariot race of 'Ben Hur.'"--_The +Westminster_. + +"A fascinating story of the Olympic games. The long grind over the +historic course is well portrayed and the excitement at the great finish +is intense."--_The Independent_. + + * * * * * + +JEB HUTTON + +The Story of a Georgia Boy + +Illustrated. $1.20 net + +"Will rank beside 'Captains Courageous.'"--New York _Globe_. + +"A bright, dashing story, sure to charm boys who love the strenuous +life."--_The Outlook_. + +"'Jeb Hutton' is a boy's story from beginning to end; clean, wholesome, +spirited, and calculated to do good."--Boston _Journal_. + + + +BOOKS BY JAMES B. CONNOLLY +PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +Wide Courses. Illustrated _net_ $1.25 +Open Water. Illustrated _net_ $1.20 +The Crested Seas. Illustrated $1.50 +The Deep Sea's Toll. Illustrated $1.50 +The Seiners. With frontispiece $1.50 +Out of Gloucester. Illustrated $1.50 +An Olympic Victor. Illustrated $1.25 +Jeb Hutton. The story of a Georgia Boy. 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