The Frontier, May 1926 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CHAPTER III JERRY BLUNT’S DOUBLOONS S I looked about the blood-smeared deck a reaction set in. The planks were strewn with dead and wounded. The dead lay in grotes- que, distorted atti- tudes; some with the teeth showing in ghastly grins through pallid lips; some with their pale, stiff fingers hooked, talon-wise, as though reaching out for the last desperate hold on life. Three sailors from the Anthony Wayne had been killed outright; five more had been wounded; and the Letriever’s dead numbered fourteen, including the captain and the mate. Of the re- mainder, four had received mortal wounds, and only six had escaped un- hurt. When I noted the unwholesome pallor of the dead, and listened to the cries and groans of the injured, I was filled with pity and nausea. But I was given little time to indulge in morbid fancies. Despite his wounded leg, Captain Van Tassel had drawn himself up beside the bulwarks. Standing on his uninjured leg, and gripping the rail tightly, he snapped out an order that brought our excited crew to heel in a jiffy. There was much to do before the sinking pirate vessel was abandoned; and so young Mr. Jenkins, our mate, was set busy at once, putting prisoners below at the pumps, detailing others to remove their seriously injured comrades to the Anthony Wayne, and setting our own crew to stripping the Retriever of everything transportable in the way of valuables and gear. “Und gif a close look aft for a strong room, Mr. Jenkins,” the cap- tain added. The poor skipper was very pale and grim as he stood there, fighting down his pain. He was nursing bitter thoughts. He knew, and the men knew, that his blunder in going alongside the Retriever to facilitate the removal of salvage had come within an ace of costing the lives of all of us. Dono- van, on the other hand, undoubtedly had saved the day. As we paused a moment for a drink of brandy before plunging into our search, he was the receiver of many gruff words of heart- felt praise from our sweating hands; and if he had been popular before, it was plain that he was almost an idol now. “Ah, by gum!” one said, admiringly, THE DEVIL'S CALDRON ‘to a shipmate, “that was the prime dodge, and no mistake. He have a head atop his shoulders. And fight? Shiver my timbers, ’twas like follying a bull in a tea shop. You had only to pick up the pieces.” To all this Donovan waved a de- precating hand. Captain Van Tassel’s name had not been mentioned, of course; but Donovan knew very well what the men were thinking. So, as he confessed to me later, not desiring to “fall foul of the skipper’s hawse any more than could be helped,” he made as light of the incident as pos- sible. “°Twas only as I has a natural tend- ency to be ready for such sculch,” he said, tossing off his brandy. “It’s all due to what others of the same kind did to me, d’y’see. And now, Mr. Jenkins,” he went on, briskly and cheerily, “what’s the lay for me, sir?” The young mate was hesitant for a second—for he, too, admired Donovan immensely, and he was diffident about giving orders to a master mariner so many years his senior. Indeed, his order was made in the form of a fre- quest; but Donovan, with the cheeri- est, “Ay, ay, sir!” hurried at once with me into the cabin. “That swab,” he said, indicating the dead seaman on the floor, “was the mate. Name of Cutshaw. Thought I was sure of him, minute I spotted him.” “Where did you know him?” I asked. “Why,” Donovan returned, easily, “met him in Boston once. I knows this hooker now. If I ain’t mistaken, she’s the old Muscovy, renamed. That dead skipper out there—him with the yellow sash—why, he’s Brazil—Slim Brazil. You’ve heard of him?” “Why, yes,” I cried. “He’s been posted.” “Right you are,’ said Donovan, busy turning out drawers. “I got a look at his mug once in Boston, afore he was posted for the gallows. At that, though, | wasn’t sure of myself until I seen him blow his whistle and jump on the bulwarks.” It was on the tip of my tongue then to ask him about the object which bulged in his shirt front, but he had not seen fit to mention it to me, and I was held back by two considerations. Whatever it was, he had come upon it first, and he had saved my life. So I kept silence. Then, as a seaman came in with an ax, we fell to upon the locked hatch over the strong room. And the discovery we made there 7 drove Donovan’s find from my mind for the time being. In four brass-bound chests we found an assortment of coins amount- ing in all to over twenty thousand pounds. | The coins came from the mints of many countries, with English guineas, double guineas, pieces of eight, and French Louis making up two-thirds of the total. With them were moidores, pieces from the Orient bored through the middle, sequins, piasters, crowns, and gold, silver and copper coins bear- ing the bas-relief portraits of nearly all the European monarchs since the Middle Ages. In addition to this we found rubies, pearls, diamonds, and emeralds which, with other precious stones, were val- ued at some four thousand pounds. And from the hold we retrieved a large number of salable articles. These included bales of silk, rolls of brocade, boxes of shoes, kegs of liquor, one hundred new fowling pieces, forty clocks, a lot of pewter ware, seveti sets of handsome, _ silver-mounted dueling pistols, a box of polished silver candle-sticks, as many as fifty powder kegs, and a dozen and one other items. Furthermore, we stripped the Retriev- er of ail her rations, charts, sails, blocks and smail arms before we left her. The brass cannons were left on her deck, these being too cumbersome to sling aboard at the last. Then, when the Retriever had settled to a dangerous point, despite the pumps, we cleared away, leaving her to sink in unison with the blazing sun on the western horizon. HE finding of the treasure was greeted with a yell of .delight by the crew ; for my uncle was, above all, a just and generous man, and they knew they were due to share. It also lessened the tension. Captain Van Tassel, I knew, was promptly forgiven by the men, while Donovan’s popular- ity was increased the more. As for the skipper, he became markedly less grim, even smiling when Donovan came aboard, and owning up to his fault handsomely. “I dought I vas gareful,” he said. “But not quite enough. Danks to you, ve haf our lifes—und plunder. Und zo I shall rebort to Mr. Bellew. Jess.” “Why,” cried Donovan, heartily, “that’s handsome of you, sir, and no COMICOOoxS. GO