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author: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-06-10 05:21:02 -0700
committer: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-06-10 05:21:02 -0700
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+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <title>
+      Heritage of the Sea | Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
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+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76263 ***</div>
+
+<div class="titlepage">
+
+<h1>Heritage of the Sea</h1>
+
+<p class="ph1">By CAPT. W. R. BETHEL</p>
+
+<p><i>Fog blinded the captains of the<br>
+vessels on Long Island Sound—blinded<br>
+them to everything but honor.</i></p>
+
+<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br>
+Argosy All-Story Weekly March 2 1929.<br>
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br>
+the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+<p>In the exact center of the bridge of the lightless vessel, the lanky
+captain leaned far out over the dripping weather apron and listened
+tensely into the murky darkness of Long Island Sound. Astern and to the
+starboard, the Montauk bell buoy tolled faintly as it was left behind.
+Far off to the right the distant clanging of other buoys came from the
+Connecticut shore.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Gr-r-r-r-r-unh!</i>" a bass whistle grunted up ahead. That would be the
+Fall River boat.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Gr-r-r-r-unh!</i>" again she grunted, dead ahead.</p>
+
+<p>The captain whirled his head and spoke in a hoarse whisper to the man
+at the wheel.</p>
+
+<p>"Port a bit, Sims!"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>The slowly moving rum-runner veered slightly as she answered the
+suppressed rattle of the steering engine in the bowels of the ship.</p>
+
+<p>The harsh chuffing of the Fall River boat began to cough closer, and in
+a moment her fog-veiled lights hove into view to the starboard.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Gr-r-r-r-r-unh!</i>" her fog horn blared as she churned eastward at
+half speed toward the open Atlantic. From along the black side of the
+rum-runner came the slosh and sucking of the wave the big steamer had
+raised, and the smaller vessel rose and fell softly upon it for an
+instant as it crept along.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Hoo-o-o-o-ooh!</i>" That would be the Boston turbine.</p>
+
+<p>"Starboard a hair, Sims!"</p>
+
+<p>"Starboard, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Hoo-o-o-o-ooh!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>A dripping gray shape with phosphorescent rows of dim lights along her
+decks forged by, high over the port rail.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Wh-a-a-a-h!</i>" a seagoing tug spoke astern, and in a moment she
+wallowed by out of sight on the port side.</p>
+
+<p>Here and there all over the Sound, vessels were blaring and tooting
+their warnings and giving their answers as they forged up and down the
+channel and crossed between Connecticut and the Long Island shore.</p>
+
+<p>The rum-runner's captain craned farther out and strained his ears as he
+exactly placed the nearest of them. The dank fog was congealing on his
+oilskins and dripping from his face. He straightened up and groped for
+the speaking tube. Thrusting it to his lips he growled a terse order to
+the man deep below in the engine room.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me half speed, chief, until I change it!"</p>
+
+<p>He clanked the tube back on its hook and as he craned out again the
+ship began to vibrate gently to the increased throttle.</p>
+
+<p>A man who had been standing silently in the starboard wing clutched the
+bridge rail and groped over beside the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"You no thinka you go too fast now, cap, hey?"</p>
+
+<p>His hand tugged at the captain's oilskin sleeve as he voiced the
+question.</p>
+
+<p>The captain whirled his head and peered back over his shoulder at the
+unseen speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"What the hell's biting you now, Joe?" he growled.</p>
+
+<p>The questioner prefaced his words with a chuckle, but there was panic
+and hysteria in it.</p>
+
+<p>"I no lika this fog too moch. Too moch traffic in dam Sound thisa
+night. You no thinka we run too fast, cap?"</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>The captain shoved himself erect.</p>
+
+<p>"Feet gettin' cold, huh? Well, this is just our sort of weather, Joe.
+We'll slide to Oldfield Point under cover of the fog, slip the stuff
+to your men at the landing, and then we'll turn tail and hop out
+again. The chasers 'll be wondering whatinell happened this time. This
+is our eighth trip in together. I'm another thousand to the good and
+you're another hundred thousand. I never see you get scared before.
+What are you kicking about?"</p>
+
+<p>"I no feela right, cap! I have hoonch this time not so good! Listen,
+cap, you no think we better back up and get back out for less foggy
+time?"</p>
+
+<p>Up ahead two big fog horns blared. A long, lean tanker loomed out of
+the murk and grazed by.</p>
+
+<p>"Aw, damn it, Joe, shut up! Get to hell away from me! How can I con
+this ship with your bazoo going? Scat! Get over where you was and make
+a noise like a mouse!"</p>
+
+<p>"Leesten, cap!" Hysteria was making the Italian's voice tremble
+reedily. "You better swing round and put back out! I got two hunderd
+t'ousand dollars' wort' on board here. I lose that an' my guarantee on
+thisa vessel, see?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aw! Go back where you was, I told ye!"</p>
+
+<p>He gave the scared Italian a shove away from him.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Parento shuffled back along the rail and whined his woes to himself
+as he peered, listening desperately, into murk from the starboard wing.
+The fog had constantly thickened, and he dodged back as a huge black
+tramp wallowed by so close he could almost have reached out and touched
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"For Heaven's sake, cap!" He scrambled over and again tugged at the
+captain's sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"Get to hell away, Joe! You're yellow as a Chink! I haven't lost a dime
+yet for you and I've made you a million while I was makin' seven grand
+for myself. What's got you scared of a little hatful of fog?"</p>
+
+<p>He groped for the speaking tube.</p>
+
+<p>"Give her another twenty revolutions, chief," his tense growl spoke
+down the tube.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Per Dio!</i>" swore the Italian. "You get crazy lika the hell!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sh! Listen!"</p>
+
+<p>The captain craned out again.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Wh-a-a-a-h! Whuh! Whuh! Whuh!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The captain chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the Bridgeport-Port Jeff ferry! He's divin' over, and he's
+makin' it! Bully for him, and I'm glad he's out of our way!"</p>
+
+<p>Two big fog horns began booming, in question and answer, off to the
+port quarter ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"Them big fellows are gettin' worried," he growled half to himself,
+"gettin' close together and neither one knows just where t'other one is
+exactly!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Hoo-o-o-o-ooh! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Gr-r-r-r-r-unh! Grr! Grr!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>In a moment came a long blast followed at an interval by two short
+grunts.</p>
+
+<p>"By Godfrey, that was a close shave for 'em!" enthused the captain of
+the rum-runner, <i>sotto voce</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He spoke into the speaking tube.</p>
+
+<p>"Cut her to half throttle, chief!" he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>He felt the Italian's hand trembling on his sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"You no thinka we better turna back, cap? I have hoonch thisa time we
+have trooble, hey, what you theenk?"</p>
+
+<p>The captain grabbed the quivering hand on his sleeve and with his
+calloused clutch he firmly tore the hand away.</p>
+
+<p>"You give me the heebie-jeebies, Joe! Whyn't you be reasonable? What're
+you askeard of?"</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Something up ahead caught his ear and he half crawled out on the
+weather apron.</p>
+
+<p>"There's some damned thing up ahead of us goin' our way with no lights
+either! She ain't a hundred fathoms ahead of us!" he blurted as he
+crawled back. He put the mouth-piece of the tube to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, chief! Cut her to about forty revolutions and stand by! May need
+full speed astern any moment!"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a tense whisper to the man at the wheel.</p>
+
+<p>"Port a bit, Sims! Steady as you go!"</p>
+
+<p>"Steady, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>The captain started to stretch out over the apron again and a rasping
+sound from up ahead caused him to pause, tensely listening. A big siren
+and a hoarse whistle blared at the same instant. A terrific smashing,
+grinding crash leaped to a crescendo of harsh noise. Excited voices
+shrilled across the water.</p>
+
+<p>The rum boat captain's voice rose to an excited snarl.</p>
+
+<p>"They've met head on! It's this feller ahead of us and somepin. It's
+one of them big fellers that's got him! He's either a booze boat like
+us or he's a chaser!"</p>
+
+<p>The Italian was sniveling.</p>
+
+<p>"Cap, you turn back, cap, you hear me?"</p>
+
+<p>The captain gave him a shove that sent him scurrying to the end of the
+bridge. From up ahead came the jangle of ship's bells and the sharp
+coughs of the exhausts.</p>
+
+<p>"Hell's bells! The big fellow's rammed 'em and he's runnin' off to
+leave 'em drown!"</p>
+
+<p>The lights of the oncoming steamer loomed out of the fog and bore down
+on them, scraped along the side and moved by. The bootleg captain
+snatched up a flash light and snapped it on as he dashed to the wing,
+and he roughly elbowed the Italian aside as he thrust it upward to peer
+at the vessel. Scared yellow faces blinked down at him from along the
+rail.</p>
+
+<p>"You yellow devils!" the captain shrilled up at them. "What you runnin'
+off for after ramming a vessel?"</p>
+
+<p>He glimpsed the word "<i>Maru</i>" on the stern of the tramp as she surged
+by with engines pounding full speed ahead.</p>
+
+<p>He leaped to the speaking tube.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut her down, chief, and let her drift! Somebody rammed up ahead.
+Don't want to smash into one of their boats or run down anybody
+swimmin'. Stand tight by the tube, too! I may want to use the engine
+quick at any time!"</p>
+
+<p>His words leaped down the tube like pistol shots. He snatched the
+megaphone down and whirling, shouted down to the deck.</p>
+
+<p>"Snap on the lights, mister!"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, aye, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>The metal switch-box door clanged open as the thudding feet of the mate
+reached it and his hand clawed it open. Globes of light sprang out
+along the foggy deck and up in the wheelhouse.</p>
+
+<p>The captain bawled down the tube: "All right, chief! Hold her there!
+Watch the indicator!"</p>
+
+<p>A bell clanged harshly as he rammed the telltale over to "Stop."</p>
+
+<p>"Man the boats! Get them hooks and life-rings out! Snap to it, mister!
+Snap them carrions into it!" His voice was bawling through the short
+megaphone. He sprawled out upon the weather apron and bawled ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"Ahoy, out there! Ahoy!" his voice roared and quavered.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Faintly through the fog came: "Ahoy! Ahoy! This way!"</p>
+
+<p>He sprang back into the bridge and grabbed wildly for the whistle
+cord and the black steamer's hoarse whistle began to roar staccato
+blasts which echoed and reëchoed into the night. Men were racing about
+the deck to the sharp commands of the mate, which were punctuated by
+thudding fists and heavy boot toes.</p>
+
+<p>Port and starboard davits creaked outward, and the ropes whined in the
+sheaves as the lifeboats raced down and crashed into the water. The
+gangplank clattered to the water's edge. The mate ran down it and began
+to bawl through his megaphone. Up overhead the big whistle was still
+booming.</p>
+
+<p>Up on the bridge Joe Parento, the bootleg king, was gaping open-mouthed
+at the lanky captain, whose long arm was still yanking the whistle cord.</p>
+
+<p>"You stoppa that! You heara me? You quit it? You gone <i>lunatico</i>?
+What's matter you, cap? Cut it out, now!"</p>
+
+<p>He leaped forward and seized the captain's arm with both his own and
+dragged it down.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm goin' to stand by, Joe! They's men drowndin' out thar ef we don't
+help 'em!"</p>
+
+<p>"Stand by lika the hell!" the Italian jabbered. "You crazy! Swing
+'round! Head back out! You hear me, hey?"</p>
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+  <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt="">
+  <div class="caption">
+    <p><i>"You crazy!" the Italian jabbered. "Head back out!"</i></p>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap">
+
+<p>He groped in the pocket of his coat and came out with a snub-nosed
+automatic.</p>
+
+<p>"Turn her 'round, cap, and don't waste no time, or I blow you to hell!"
+His voice was a yelping scream.</p>
+
+<p>The captain sprang toward him with clenched fist and arm doubled back,
+ready to strike. A lurid flame burst forth from the blunt muzzle of the
+pistol and searing pain jabbed at the left shoulder of the seaman.</p>
+
+<p>"Drop the gun, wop!"</p>
+
+<p>His clenched fist smashed down and the gun exploded in mid-air as it
+dropped toward the floor. The sturdy sea-muscled arm lashed upward and
+the blocky fist crunched under Parento's chin, lifting him upward from
+the floor and propelling him backward. He fell on his back with a thud.
+The captain snatched up the fallen pistol and thrust it into the pocket
+of his sou'-wester.</p>
+
+<p>The lifeboats were thumping against the vessel's side and grating along
+as the riffraff crew returned with the swimmers they had rescued. The
+captain picked up the unconscious body of the Italian bootleg king and
+strode down the bridge stairs with it under his right arm. A patch
+of blood was already oozing out from the burning hole in his left
+shoulder, painting the yellow oilskin crimson.</p>
+
+<p>He deposited his unconscious burden upon the deck underneath an
+electric light. Walking to the head of the gangplank, he bent to peer
+downward, where dripping figures were climbing from the boats upon the
+landing platform of the gangplank and starting up toward the deck.</p>
+
+<p>At the head of the line was a man in a blue uniform, and as he stepped
+upon the deck he snorted with astonishment, for the menacing figure of
+the captain shot out a long arm with a stubby automatic gripped in his
+huge fist.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm grabbing for the sky, skipper!" the uniformed man chuckled,
+stretching both his hands high overhead.</p>
+
+<p>"What vessel?" snarled the oilskin-clad figure.</p>
+
+<p>"Coast Guard cutter Quadras. We were laying without lights for the
+rum-runner Bear, from St. John, when we got rammed by a Jap tramp who
+went on and left us."</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>The blunt nose of the automatic whipped toward the face of the next
+gaping man who stepped on the deck.</p>
+
+<p>"Hands up! Get 'em up, I said, damn you!"</p>
+
+<p>The gaunt skipper stepped to the side of the Coast Guard commander and
+tapped the back of his coat with the back of his left hand. Finding
+no hidden weapons, he thrust the pistol muzzle into the face of the
+dumfounded seaman, who had frozen in his tracks at the top of the
+gangplank.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't got no gun, cap!" the man blurted.</p>
+
+<p>"Step ahead, then, you're blocking traffic!"</p>
+
+<p>One by one the others filed up and ranged along the deck, grinning
+sheepishly, their hands uplifted.</p>
+
+<p>The Coast Guard commander turned to confront him.</p>
+
+<p>"I give you my word, sir, neither my men nor myself will commit an
+overt act. We're too glad to be picked up, no matter who you may be."</p>
+
+<p>The skipper smiled grimly as he thrust the automatic into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"At your ease, men. Your arms might get stiff from keepin' 'em up so
+long. I hate to do it, but I'm in honor bound to protect my cargo. This
+is the rum-runner Bear, with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars'
+worth of Canadian Club."</p>
+
+<p>The Coast Guard commander slapped his wet thigh and laughed heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's pretty rich!"</p>
+
+<p>A roar went up from the line of men, glad to enjoy a joke on themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Several of the rum vessel's crew came stalking up the gangplank, with
+guns and knives gleaming in their hands, only to thrust them out of
+sight and join in the laughter. Down on the landing platform the mate
+was bawling to the men he had sent to scull the boats to the davit
+falls.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment he came up, scowling, only to grin as he saw the good
+nature of all hands. With a wave of his arm he sent men to the davits,
+and in a few minutes the boats came bobbing up and were swung onto the
+deck and made fast.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Parento crawled to his feet and came stumbling toward the group on
+the deck with his hand nursing his bruised jaw. He gaped dazedly about
+into the grinning faces. He gasped with fright as his eyes rested on
+the blotch of blood which had oozed from the captain's left shoulder
+and stained his oilskins.</p>
+
+<p>"I no go for to shoot you, cap, honest!" he denied.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up!" the skipper roared. "Here's your gun! Better toss it over
+the side, or you'll get into real trouble with it."</p>
+
+<p>He flung the gun to the Italian, who caught it and threw it over the
+rail into the water.</p>
+
+<p>"Is everything snug, mister?" the skipper bawled to the mate.</p>
+
+<p>"Shipshape and Bristol fashion, sir!" the mate answered as he came to
+the skipper's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Break out dry clothes for these sailors and find places for 'em to
+sleep. Break out a half dozen quarts of whisky and give 'em a nip.
+They've been wet and might catch cold."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke kindly to the captured commander.</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll come with me, sir, I'll show you your quarters up alongside
+my own, and some dry clothes, and some real stuff, if you'll have it.
+We'll be back at the twelve-mile line in an hour or so, and you can
+wireless from one of the boats in the row for a cutter to come after
+you and your men."</p>
+
+<p>As they walked by the switch-box he reached in and snapped off the
+lights. His flash light glowed for a moment as he opened the door of
+a cabin and ushered the rescued officer inside. Walking to his own
+room, he came out with an armful of clothing and handed them to the
+commander, telling him to don them in the dark. Then he lurched to the
+ladder and climbed the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>"Half speed, chief, stand by for full!" he growled down the tube.
+He swayed back and forth dizzily as his head swam from weakness and
+gnawing pain in his left shoulder. The scuff of the Coast Guard
+commander's shoes sounded as he climbed the steps and groped along the
+bridge. His arm ran around the sagging waist of the skipper.</p>
+
+<p>"Better come on down and rest awhile yourself, sir," he suggested. "I'm
+fresh, and I know this Sound as well as you do. I'll con the old tub
+out and deliver her in Rum Row."</p>
+
+<p>He supported the faltering steps of the old man down the steps and
+along to his stateroom, and then raced back to the bridge. Half
+crawling out on the weather apron, he peered and listened into the
+impenetrable murk. The black ship swung slowly around to his orders and
+began to forge up the Sound out toward the open sea.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph2">THE END</p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76263 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-06-10 05:21:02 -0700
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-06-10 05:21:02 -0700
commit	6cb6ccd877bc02d78db5ecb2d4b48e6db94853b0 (patch)
tree	fb36ac2705650375c836367a0c310b60ccadd0c6 /76263-h