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twg_000000036600 | the sunlight. Darrow glanced at it curiously, and at the man's headgear. "Well, my genial pirate," he drawled, "if you had a line to fit that hook, you'd be equipped for fishing." The man's teeth bared like an animal's, but Darrow went on easily as though unconscious of giving offence. "If I were you, I'd have it arranged so the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036601 | hook would turn backward as well as forward. It would be handier for some things,--fighting, for instance." He passed on down the companion. Handy Solomon glared after him, then down at his hook. He bent his arm this way and that, drawing the hook toward him softly, as a cat does her claws. His eyes cleared and a look of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036602 | admiration crept into them. "By God, he's right!" he muttered, and after a moment; "I've wore that ten year and never thought of it. The little son of a gun!" He remained staring for a moment at the hook. Then he looked up and caught my eye. His own turned quizzical. He shifted his quid and began to hum: "The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036603 | bos'n laid aloft, aloft laid he, _Blow high, blow low! What care we?_ 'There's a ship upon the wind'ard, a wreck upon the lee,' _Down on the coast of the high Barbare-e-e."_ We had entered the trades and were making good time. I was content to stay on deck, even in my watch below. The wind was strong, the waves | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036604 | dashing, the sky very blue. From under our forefoot the flying fish sped, the monsters pursued them. A tingle of spray was in the air. It was all very pleasant. The red handkerchief around Solomon's head made a pretty spot of colour against the blue of the sky and the darker blue of the sea. Silhouetted over the flaw-less white | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036605 | of the deck house was the sullen, polished profile of the Nigger. Beneath me the ship swerved and leaped, yielded and recovered. I breathed deep, and saw cutlasses in harmless shadows. It was two years ago. I was young--then---- At the mess hour I stood in doubt. However, I was informed by the captain's falsetto that I was to eat | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036606 | in the cabin. As the only other officer, I ate alone, after the others had finished, helping myself from the dishes left on the table. It was a handsome cabin, well kept, with white woodwork spotlessly clean, leather cushions--much better than one would expect. I afterwards found that the neatness of this cabin and of the three staterooms was maintained | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036607 | by the Nigger--at peril of his neck. A rack held a dozen rifles, five revolvers, and,--at last--my cutlasses. I examined the lot with interest. They were modern weapons,--the new high power - box-magazine rifle, shooting government ammunition,--and had been used. The revolvers were of course the old Colt's. This was an extraordinary armament for a peaceable schooner of one hundred | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036608 | and fifty tons burden. The rest of the cabin's fittings were not remarkable. By the configuration of the ship I guessed that two of the staterooms must be rather large. I could make out voices within. On deck I talked with Captain Selover. "She's a snug craft," I approached him. He nodded. "You have armed her well." He muttered something | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036609 | of pirates and the China seas. I laughed. "You have arms enough to give your crew about two magazine rifles apiece--unless you filled all your berths forward!" Captain Selover looked me direct in the eye. "Talk straight, Mr. Eagen," said he. "What is this ship, and where is she bound?" I asked, with equal simplicity. He considered. "As for the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036610 | ship," he replied at length, "I don't mind saying. You're my first officer, and on you I depend if it comes to--well, the small arms below. If the ship's a little under the shade, why, so are you. She's by way of being called a manner of hard names by some people. I do not see it myself. It is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036611 | a matter of conscience. If you would ask some interested, they would call her a smuggler, a thief, a wrecker, and all the other evil titles in the catalogue. She has taken in Chinks by way of Santa Cruz Island--if that is smuggling. The country is free, and a Chink is a man. Besides, it paid ten dollars a head | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036612 | for the landing. She has carried in a cargo or so of junk; it was lying on the beach where a fool master had piled it, and I took what I found. I couldn't keep track of the underwriters' intentions." "But the room forward----?" I broke in. "Well, you see, last season we were pearl fishing." "But you needed only | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036613 | your diver and your crew," I objected. "There was the matter of a Japanese gunboat or so," he explained. "Poaching!" I cried. "So some call it. The shells are there. The islands are not inhabited. I do not see how men claim property beyond the tide water. I have heard it argued----" "Hold on!" I cried. "There was a trouble | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036614 | last year in the Ishigaki Jima Islands where a poacher beat off the _Oyama_. It was a desperate fight." Captain Selover's eye lit up. "I've commanded a black brigantine, name of _The Petrel_," he admitted simply. "She was a brigantine aloft, but _alow_ she had much the same lines as the _Laughing Lass_." He whirled on his heel to roll | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036615 | to one of the covered yacht's cannon. "Looks like a harmless little toy to burn black powder, don't she?" he remarked. He stripped off the tarpaulin and the false brass muzzle to display as pretty a little Maxim as you would care to see. "Now you know all about it," he said. "Look here, Captain Selover," I demanded, "don't you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036616 | know that I could blow your whole shooting-match higher than Gilderoy's kite. How do you know I won't do it when I get back? How do you know I won't inform the doctor at once what kind of an outfit he has tied to?" He planted far apart his thick legs in their soiled blue trousers, pushed back his greasy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036617 | linen boating hat and stared at me with some amusement. "How do you know I won't blow on Lieutenant or Ensign Ralph Slade, U.S.N., when I get back?" he demanded. I blessed that illusion, anyway. "Besides, I know my man. You won't do anything of the sort." He walked to the rail and spat carefully over the side. "As for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036618 | the doctor," he went on, "he knows all about it. He told me all about myself, and everything I had ever done from the time I'd licked Buck Jones until last season's little diversion. Then he told me that was why he wanted me to ship for this cruise." The captain eyed me quizzically. I threw out my hands in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036619 | a comic gesture of surrender. "Well, where are we bound, anyway?" The dirty, unkempt, dishevelled figure stiffened. "Mr. Eagen," its falsetto shrilled, "you are mate of this vessel. Your duty is to see that my orders as to sailing are carried out. Beyond that you do not go. As to navigation, and latitude and longitude and where the hell we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036620 | are, that is outside your line of duty. As to where we are bound, you are getting double wages not to get too damn curious. Remember to earn your wages, Mr. Eagen!" He turned away to the binnacle. In spite of his personal filth, in spite of the lawless, almost piratical, character of the man, in that moment I could | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036621 | not but admire him. If Percy Darrow was ignorant of the purposes of this expedition, how much more so Captain Selover. Yet he accepted his trust blindly, and as far as I could then see, intended to fulfil it faithfully. I liked him none the worse for snubbing me. It indicated a streak in his moral nature akin to and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036622 | quite as curious as his excessive neatness regarding his immediate surroundings. IV THE STEEL CLAW During the next few days the crew discussed our destination. Discipline, while maintained strictly, was not conventional. During the dog watches, often, every man aboard would be below, for at that period Captain Selover loved to take the wheel in person, a thick cigar between | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036623 | his lips, the dingy checked shirt wide open to expose his hairy chest to the breeze. In the twilight of the forecastle we had some great sea-lawyer's talks--I say "We," though I took little part in them. Generally I lay across my bunk smoking my pipe while Handy Solomon held forth, his speech punctuated by surly speculations from the Nigger, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036624 | with hesitating deep-sea wisdom from the hairy Thrackles, or with voluminous bursts of fractured English from Perdosa. Pulz had nothing to offer, but watched from his pale green eyes. The light shifted and wavered from one to the other as the ship swayed: garments swung; the empty berths yawned cavernous. I could imagine the forecastle filled with the desperate men | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036625 | who had beaten off the _Oyama_. The story is told that they had swept the gunboat's decks with her own rapid-fires, turned in. No one knew where we were going, nor why. The doctor puzzled them, and the quantity of his belongings. "It ain't pearls," said Handy Solomon. "You can kiss the Book on that, for we ain't a diver | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036626 | among us. It ain't Chinks, for we are cruising sou'-sou'-west. Likely it's trade,--trade down in the Islands." We were all below. The captain himself had the wheel. Discipline, while strict, was not conventional. "Contrabandista," muttered the Mexican, "for dat he geev us double pay." "We don't get her for nothing," agreed Thrackles. "Double pay and duff on Wednesday generally means | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036627 | get your head broke." "No trade," said the Nigger gloomily. They turned to him with one accord. "Why not?" demanded Pulz, breaking his silence. "No trade," repeated the Nigger. "Ain't you got a reason, Doctor?" asked Handy Solomon. "No trade," insisted the Nigger. An uneasy silence fell. I could not but observe that the others held the Nigger's statements in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036628 | a respect not due them as mere opinions. Subsequently I understood a little more of the reputation he possessed. He was believed to see things hidden, as their phrase went. Nobody said anything for some time; nobody stirred, except that Handy Solomon, his steel claw removed from its socket, whittled and tested, screwed and turned, trying to fix the hook | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036629 | so that, in accordance with the advice of Percy Darrow, it would turn either way. "What is it, then, Doctor?" he asked softly at last. "Gold," said the Nigger shortly. "Gold--treasure." "That's what I said at first!" cried Handy Solomon triumphantly. It was extraordinary, the unquestioning and entire faith with which they accepted as gospel fact the negro's dictum. There | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036630 | followed much talk of the nature of this treasure, whether it was to be sought or conveyed, bought, stolen, or ravished in fair fight. No further soothsaying could they elicit from the Nigger. They followed their own ideas, which led them nowhere. Someone lit the forecastle lamp. They settled themselves. Pulz read aloud. This was the programme every day during | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036631 | the dog watch. Sometimes the watch on deck was absent, leaving only Handy Solomon, the Nigger and Pulz, but the order of the day was not on that account varied. They talked, they lit the lamp, they read. Always the talk was of the treasure. As to the reading, it was of the sort usual to seamen, cowboys, lumbermen, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036632 | miners. Thrackles had a number of volumes of very cheap love stories. Pulz had brought some extraordinary garish detective stories. The others contributed sensational literature with paper covers adorned lithographically. By the usual incongruity a fragment of _The Marble Faun_ was included in the collection. The Nigger has his copy of _Duvall on Alchemy_. I haven't the slightest idea where | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036633 | he could have got it. While Pulz read, Handy Solomon worked on the alteration of his claw. He could never get it to hold, and I remember as an undertone to Pulz's reading, the rumble of strange, exasperated oaths. Whatever the evening's lecture, it always ended with the book on alchemy. These men had no perspective by which to judge | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036634 | such things. They accepted its speculations and theories at their face value. Extremely laughable were the discussions that followed. I often wished the shade of old Duvall could be permitted to see these, his last disciples, spelling out dimly his teachings, mispronouncing his grave utterances, but believing utterly. Dr. Schermerhorn appeared on deck seldom. When he did, often his fingers | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036635 | held a pen which he had forgotten to lay aside. I imagined him preoccupied by some calculation of his own, but the forecastle, more picturesquely, saw him as guarding constantly the heavy casket he had himself carried aboard. He breathed the air, walked briskly, turned with the German military precision at the end of his score of strides, and re-entered | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036636 | his cabin at the lapse of the half hour. After he had gone, remained Percy Darrow leaning indolently against the taffrail, his graceful figure swaying with the ship's motion, smoking always the corn-husk Mexican cigarettes which he rolled with one hand. He seemed from that farthest point aft to hold in review the appliances, the fabric, the actions, yes, even | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036637 | the very thoughts, of the entire ship. From them he selected that on which he should comment or with which he should play, always with a sardonic, half-serious, quite wearied and indifferent manner. His inner knowledge, viewed by the light of this manner or mannerism, was sometimes uncanny, though perhaps the sources of his information were commonplace enough, after all. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036638 | Certainly he always viewed with amusement his victim's wonder. Thus one evening at the close of our day-watch on deck, he approached Handy Solomon. It was at the end of ten days, on no one of which had the seaman failed to tinker away at his steel claw. Darrow balanced in front of him with a thin smile. "Too bad | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036639 | it doesn't work, my amiable pirate," said he. "It would be so handy for fighting--See here," he suddenly continued, pulling some object from his pocket, "here's a pipe; present to me; I don't smoke 'em. Twist her halfway, like that, she comes out. Twist her halfway, like this, she goes in. That's your principle. Give her back to me when | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036640 | you get through." He thrust the briar pipe into the man's hand, and turned away without waiting for a reply. The seaman looked after him in open amazement. That evening he worked on the socket of the steel hook, and in two days he had the job finished. Then he returned the pipe to Darrow with some growling of thanks. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036641 | "That's all right," said the young man, smiling full at him. "Now what are you going to fight?" V THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE Captain Selover received as his due the most absolute and implicit obedience imaginable. When he condescended to give an order in his own person, the men fairly jumped to execute it. The matter had evidently been threshed out | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036642 | long ago. They did not love him, not they; but they feared him with a mighty fear, and did not hesitate to say so, vividly, and often, when in the privacy of the forecastle. The prevailing spirit was that of the wild beast, cowed but snarling still. Pulz and Thrackles in especial had a great deal to say of what | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036643 | they were or were not going to do, but I noticed that their resolution always began to run out of them when first foot was set to the companion ladder. One day we were loafing along, everything drawing well, and everybody but the doctor on deck to enjoy the sun. I was in the crow's-nest for my pleasure. Below me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036644 | on the deck Captain Selover roamed here and there, as was his custom, his eye cocked out like a housewife's for disorder. He found it, again in the evidence of expectoration, and as Perdosa happened to be handiest, fell on the unfortunate Mexican. Perdosa protested that he had had nothing to do with it, but Captain Selover, enraged as always | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036645 | when his precious deck was soiled, would not listen. Finally the Mexican grew sulky and turned away as though refusing to hear more. The captain thereupon felled him to the deck, and began brutally to kick him in the face and head. Perdosa writhed and begged, but without avail. The other members of the crew gathered near. After a moment, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036646 | they began to murmur. Finally Thrackles ventured, most respectfully, to intervene. "You'll kill him, sir," he interposed. "He's had enough." "Had enough, has he?" screeched the captain. "Well, you take what's left." He marked Thrackles heavily over the eye. There was a breathless pause; and then Thrackles, Pulz, the Nigger, and Perdosa attacked at once. They caught the master unawares, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036647 | and bore him to the deck. I dropped at once to the ratlines, and commenced my descent. Before I had reached the deck, however, Selover was afoot again, the four hanging to him like dogs. In a moment more he had shaken them off; and before I could intervene, he had seized a belaying pin in either hand, and was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036648 | hazing them up and down the deck. "Mutiny, would you?" he shrilled. "You poor swabs! Forgot who was your captain, did ye? Well, it's Captain Ezra Selover, and you can lay to that! It would need about eight fathom of _stuff_ like you to tie me down." He chased them forward, and he chased them aft, and every time the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036649 | pins fell, blood followed. Finally they dived like rabbits into the forecastle hatch. Captain Selover leaned down after them. "Now tie yourselves up," he advised, "and then come on deck and clean up after yourselves!" He turned to me. "Mr. Eagen, turn out the crew to clean decks." I descended to the forecastle, followed immediately by Handy Solomon. The latter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036650 | had taken no part in the affair. We found the men in horrible shape, what with the bruises and cuts, and bleeding freely. "Now you're a nice-looking Sunday school!" observed Handy Soloman, eyeing them sardonically. "Tackel Old Scrubs, will ye? Well, some needs a bale of cotton to fall on 'em afore they learns anything. Enjoyed your little diversions, mates? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036651 | And w'at do you expect to gain? I asks you that, now. You poor little infants! Ain't you never tackled him afore? Don't remember a little brigatine, name of the _Petrel!_ My eye, but you _are_ a pack of damn fools!" To this he received no reply. The men sullenly assisted each other. Then they went immediately on deck and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036652 | to work. After this taste of his quality, Captain Selover enjoyed a quiet ship. We made good time, but for a long while nothing happened. Finally the monotony was broken by an incident. One evening before the night winds I sat in the shadow of the extra dory on top of the deck house. The moon was but just beyond | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036653 | the full, so I suppose I must have been practically invisible. Certainly the Nigger did not know of my presence, for he came and stood within three feet of me without giving any sign. The companion was open. In a moment some door below was opened also, and a scrap of conversation came up to us very clearly. "You haf | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036654 | dem finished?" the doctor's voice inquired. "So, that iss well,"--papers rustled for a few moments. "And the r-result-- ah--exactly--it iss that exactly. Percy, mein son, that maigs the experiment exact. We haf the process----" "I don't see, sir, quite," replied the voice of Percy Darrow, with a tinge of excitement. "I can follow the logic of the experiment, of course--so | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036655 | can I follow the logic of a trip to the moon. But when you come to apply it--how do you get your re-agent? There's no known method----" Dr. Schermerhorn broke in: "Ach, it iss that I haf perfected. Pardon me, my boy, it iss the first I haf worked from you apart. It iss for a surprise. I haf made | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036656 | in small quantities the missing ingredient. It will form a perfect interruption to the current. Now we go----" "Do you mean to say," almost shouted Darrow, "that you have succeeded in freeing it in the metal?" "Yes," replied the doctor simply. I could hear a chair overturned. "Why, with that you can----" "I can do everything," broke in the doctor. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036657 | "The possibilities are enormous." "And you can really produce it in quantity?" "I think so; it iss for us to discover." A pause ensued. "Why!" came the voice of Percy Darrow, awestricken. "With fifty centigrammes only you could--you could transmute any substance--why, you could make anything you pleased almost! You could make enough diamonds to fill that chest! It is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036658 | the philosopher's stone!" "Diamonds--yes--it is possible," interrupted the doctor impatiently, "if it was worth while. But you should see the real importance----" The ship careened to a chance swell; a door slammed; the voices were cut off. I looked up. The Nigger's head was thrust forward fairly into the glow from the companionway. The mask of his sullenness had fallen. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036659 | His eyes fairly rolled in excitement, his thick lips were drawn back to expose his teeth, his powerful figure was gathered with the tensity of a bow. When the door slammed, he turned silently to glide away. At that instant the watch was changed, and in a moment I found myself in my bunk. Ten seconds later the Nigger, detained | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036660 | by Captain Selover for some trifling duty, burst into the forecastle. He was possessed by the wildest excitement. This in itself was enough to gain the attention of the men, but his first words were startling. "I found de treasure!" he almost shouted. "I know where he kept!" They leaped at him--Handy Solomon and Pulz--and fairly shook out of him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036661 | what he thought he knew. He babbled in the forgotten terms of alchemy, dressing modern facts in the garments of mediaeval thought until they were scarcely to be recognised. "And so he say dat he fine him, de Philosopher Stone, and he keep him in dat heavy box we see him carry aboard, and he don' have to make gol' | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036662 | with it--he can make diamon's--_diamon's_--he say it too easy to fill dat box plum full of diamon's." They gesticulated and exclaimed and breathed hard, full of the marvel of such a thought. Then abruptly the clamour died to nothing. I felt six eyes bent on me, six unwinking eyes moving restless in motionless figures, suspicious, deadly as cobras---- Up to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036663 | now my standing with the men had been well enough. Now they drew frankly apart. One of the most significant indications of this was the increased respect they paid my office. It was as though by prompt obedience, instant deference, and the emphasising of ship's etiquette they intended to draw sharply the line between themselves and me. There was much | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036664 | whispering apart, many private talks and consultations in which I had no part. Ordinarily they talked freely enough before me. Even the reading during the dog watch was intermitted--at least it was on such days as I happened to be in the watch below. But twice I caught the Nigger and Handy Solomon consulting together over the volume on alchemy. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036665 | I was in two minds whether to report the whole matter to Captain Selover. The only thing that restrained me was the vagueness of the intention, and the fact that the afterguard was armed, and was four to the crew's five. An incident, however, decided me. One evening I was awakened by a sound of violent voices. Captain Selover occasionally | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036666 | juggled the watches for variety's sake, and I now had Handy Solomon and Perdosa. The Nigger, being cook, stood no watch. "You drunken Greaser swab!" snarled Handy Solomon. "You misbegotten son of a Yaqui! I'll learn you to step on a seaman's foot, and you can kiss the book on that! I'll cut your heart out and feed it to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036667 | the sharks!" "Potha!" sneered Perdosa. "You cut heem you finger wid your knife." They wrangled. At first I thought the quarrel genuine, but after a moment or so I could not avoid a sort of reminiscent impression of the cheap melodrama. It seemed incredible, but soon I could not dodge the conclusion that it was a made-up quarrel designed to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036668 | impress me. Why should they desire to do so? I had to give it up, but the fact itself was obvious enough. I laughed to see them. The affair did not come to blows, but it did come to black looks on meeting, muttered oaths, growls of enmity every time they happened to pass each other on the deck. Perdosa | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036669 | was not so bad; his Mexican blood inclined him to the histrionic, and his Mexican cast lent itself well to evil looks. But Handy Solomon, for the first time in my acquaintance with him, was ridiculous. About this time we crossed into frequent thunders. One evening just at dark we made out a heavy black squall. Not knowing exactly what | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036670 | weight lay behind it, I called up all hands. We ducked the staysail and foresail, lowered the peak of the mainsail, and waited to feel of it--a rough and ready seamanship often used in these little California windjammers. I was pretty busy, but I heard distinctly Handy Solomon's voice behind me. "I'll kill you sure, you Greaser, as soon as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036671 | my hands are free!" And some muttered reply from the Mexican. The wind hit us hard, held on a few moments, and moderated to a stiff puff. There followed the rain, so of course I knew it would amount to nothing. I was just stooping to throw the stops off the staysail when I felt myself seized from behind, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036672 | forced rapidly toward the side of the ship. Of course I struggled. The Japanese have a little trick to fool a man who catches you around the waist from behind. It is part of the jiu-jitsu taught the Samurai--quite a different proposition from the ordinary "policeman jiu-jitsu." I picked it up from a friend in the nobility. It came in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036673 | very handy now, and by good luck a roll of the ship helped me. In a moment I stood free, and Perdosa was picking himself out of the scuppers. The expression of astonishment was fairly well done--I will say that for him--but I was prepared for histrionics. "Seor!" he gasped. "Eet is you! _Sacrosanta Maria!_ I thought you was dat | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036674 | Solomon! Pardon me, seor! Pardon! Have I hurt you?" He approached me almost wheedling. I could have laughed at the villain. It was all so transparent. He no more mistook me for Handy Solomon than he felt any real enmity for that person. But being angry, and perhaps a little scared, I beat him to his quarters with a belaying | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036675 | pin. On thinking the matter over, however, I failed to see all the ins and outs of it. I could understand a desire to get rid of me; there would be one less of the afterguard, and then, too, I knew too much of the men's sentiments, if not of their plans. But why all this elaborate farce of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036676 | mock quarrel and the alleged mistake? Could it be to guard against possible failure? I could hardly think it worth while. My only theory was that they had wished to test my strength and determination. The whole affair, even on that supposition, was childish enough, but I referred the exaggerated cunning to Handy Solomon, and considered it quite adequately explained. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036677 | It is a minor point, but subsequently I learned that this surmise was correct. I was to be saved because none of the conspirators understood navigation. The next morning I approached Captain Selover. "Captain," said I, "I think it my duty to report that there is trouble brewing among the crew." "There always is," he replied, unmoved. "But this is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036678 | serious. Dr. Schermerhorn came aboard with a chest which the men think holds treasure. The other evening Robinson overheard him tell his assistant that he could easily fill the box with diamonds. Of course, he was merely illustrating the value of some scientific experiment, but Robinson thinks, and has made the others think, that the chest contains something to make | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036679 | diamonds with. I am sure they intend to get hold of it. The affair is coming to a head." Captain Selover listened almost indifferently. "I came back from the islands last year," he piped, "with three hundred thousand dollars' worth of pearls. There was sixteen in the crew, and every man of them was blood hungry for them pearls. They | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036680 | had three or four shindies and killed one man over the proper way to divide the loot after they had got it. They didn't get it. Why?" He drew his powerful figure to its height and spread his thick arms out in the luxury of stretching. "Why?" he repeated, exhaling abruptly. "Because their captain was Ezra Selover! Well, Mr. Eagen," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036681 | he went on crisply, "Captain Ezra Selover is their captain, _and they know it_! They'll talk and palaver and git into dark corners, and sharpen their knives, and perhaps fight it out as to which one's going to work the monkey-doodle business in the doctor's chest, and which one's going to tie up the sacks of them diamonds, but they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036682 | won't git any farther as long as Captain Ezra is on deck." "Yes," I objected, "but they mean business. Last night in the squall one of them tried to throw me overboard." Captain Selover grinned. "What did you do?" he asked. "Hazed him to his quarters with a belaying pin." "Well, that's all settled then, isn't it? What more do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036683 | you want?" I stood undecided. "I can take care of myself," he went on. "You ought to take care of yourself. Then there's nothing more to do." He mused a moment. "You have a gun, of course?" he inquired. "I forgot to ask." "No," said I. He whistled. "Well, no wonder you feel sort of lost and hopeless! Here, take | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036684 | this, it'll make a man of you." He gave me a Colt's , the barrel of which had been filed down to about two inches of length. It was a most extraordinary weapon, but effective at short range. "Here's a few loose cartridges," said he. "Now go easy. This is no warship, and we ain't got men to experiment on. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036685 | Lick 'em with your fists or a pin, if you can; and if you do shoot, for God's sake just wing 'em a little. They're awful good lads, but a little restless." I took the gun and felt better. With it I could easily handle the members of my own watch, and I did not doubt that with the assistance | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036686 | of Percy Darrow even a surprise would hardly overwhelm us. I did not count on Dr. Schermerhorn. He was quite capable of losing himself in a problem of trajectory after the first shot. VI THE ISLAND I came on deck one morning at about four bells to find the entire ship's company afoot. Even the doctor was there. Everybody was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036687 | gazing eagerly at a narrow, mountainous island lying slate-coloured across the early morning. We were as yet some twenty miles distant from it, and could make out nothing but its general outline. The latter was sharply defined, rising and falling to a highest point one side of the middle. Over the island, and raggedly clasping its sides, hung a cloud, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036688 | the only one visible in the sky. I joined the afterguard. "You see?" the doctor was exclaiming. "It iss as I haf said. The island iss there. Everything iss as it should be!" He was quite excited. Percy Darrow, too, was shaken out of his ordinary calm. "The volcano is active," was his only comment, but it explained the ragged | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036689 | cloud. "You say there's a harbour?" inquired Captain Selover. "It should be on the west end," said Dr. Schermerhorn. Captain Selover drew me one side. He, too was a little aroused. "Now wouldn't that get you?" he squeaked. "Doctor runs up against a Norwegian bum who tells him about a volcanic island, and gives its bearings. The island ain't on | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036690 | the map at all. Doctor believes it, and makes me lay my course for those bearings. _And here's the island_! So the bum's story was true! I'd like to know what the rest of it was!" His eyes were shining. "Do we anchor or stand off and on?" I asked. Captain Selover turned to grip me by the shoulder. "I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036691 | have orders from Darrow to get to a good berth, to land, to build shore quarters, and to snug down for a stay of a year at least!" We stared at each other. "Joyous prospect," I muttered. "Hope there's something to do there." The morning wore, and we rapidly approached the island. It proved to be utterly precipitous. The high | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036692 | rounded hills sloped easily to within a hundred feet or so of the water and then fell away abruptly. Where the earth ended was a fantastic filigree border, like the fancy paper with which our mothers used to line the pantry shelves. Below, the white surges flung themselves against the cliffs with a wild abandon. Thousands of sea birds wheeled | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036693 | in the eddies of the wind, thousands of ravens perched on the slopes. With our glasses we could make out the heads of seals fishing outside the surf, and a ragged belt of kelp. When within a mile we put the helm up, and ran for the west end. A bold point we avoided far out, lest there should be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036694 | outlying ledges. Then we came in sight of a broad beach and pounding surf. I was ordered to take a surf boat and investigate for a landing and an anchorage. The swell was running high. We rowed back and forth, puzzled as to how to get ashore with all the freight it would be necessary to land. The ship would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036695 | lie well enough, for the only open exposure was broken by a long reef over which we could make out the seas tumbling. But inshore the great waves rolled smoothly, swiftly-- then suddenly fell forward as over a ledge, and spread with a roar across the yellow sands. The fresh winds blew the spume back to us. We conversed in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036696 | shouts. "We can surf the boat," yelled Thrackles, "but we can't land a load." That was my opinion. We rowed slowly along, parallel to the shore, and just outside the line of breakers. I don't know exactly how to tell you the manner in which we became aware of the cove. It was as nearly the instantaneous as can be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036697 | imagined. One minute I looked ahead on a cliff as unbroken as the side of a cabin; the very next I peered down the length of a cove fifty fathoms long by about ten wide, at the end of which was a gravel beach. I cried out sharply to the men. They were quite as much astonished as I. We | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036698 | backed water, watching closely. At a given point the cove and all trace of its entrance disappeared. We could only just make out the line where the headlands dissolved into the background of the cliffs, and that merely because we knew of its existence. The blending was perfect. We rowed in. The water was still. A faint ebb and flow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000036699 | whispered against the tiny gravel beach at the end. I noted a practicable way from it to the top of the cliff, and from the cliff down again to the sand beach. Everything was perfect. The water was a beautiful light green, like semi-opaque glass, and from the indistinctness of its depths waved and beckoned, rose and disappeared with indescribable | 60 | gutenberg |
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