Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

126 The mate’s eyes went black. I seen the muscles on his cheeks line out hard. ‘““Cap’n, there’s a woman aboard,” says he. And sure enough, I notes a skirt ‘blowing by her weather rail. “T don’t care who’s aboard,” says Duff. He turned to where the bosun and a couple hands was unlashing the starboard boat, and his hand went crawling back toward that bulge in his pocket. “Stand back there from that boat, you mis- begotten slime!’ he roars. “Take your hands off them falls!” Now them down below was hard cases, like I’ve said. But Ill lay there was not one of them so dirt-mean as not to give a hand to them in danger of their lives. Hard men they was. But not that—no. And I seen them hesitate, looking up to Duff and then again out to windward where the little craft lay. Then the skipper snaps out that blue gun. I hears the roar of it and sees the bosun crumple up in the boat. ‘ A matter of half an hour afterward I looked out astern. The Betsy Lass was gone. a glad I was to get out from below where there was murder afoot. Bell, the bosun, was hurt bad and they couldn’t stop the blood. And a little man he’d knocked around for this and that swore he’d have the skipper’s heart for gunning his crew Bell laid there THAT night I was on again. And and smoked and laughed and spat blood. And* they all swore they’d have Duff’s heart and bring it down to him. But up on the wheel I seen the weather shut in thick again, and it commenced to rain. Then I knowed we was done. For word had been passed the pounding had started her old plates. The bridge was shaking bad with her auxiliaries on the pumps. The Caramao would stand no more handling. And. without some craft come along and treated us better than we done the Betsy Lass, the jig was up for fair. All I cared was for that girl. Me—I’d little to lose. But her so young—and soft. It seemed a muck of shame that she should rot below with all that filth about her. And yet, thinks I, perhaps she’s best out of her troubles. At that a great lump stuck in my throat. I wished I had my fingers on that there Colt. Pretty soon*she come out of the chart-room and stood alongside of me. “T’ve heard about the Betsy Lass,” she said. “And I got to thinking about them aboard of her. I couldn’t stay in there any longer— with him.” She had on a suit of oilskins and she gripped the rail beside me, for the gale was shrieking in our ears. My heart nigh cracked for her. / was Adventure Her head was down the like she was crying to herself. She looked so small and pitiful. “Never you mind, ma’am,” saysI. “Things will come right somehow. Keep your nose in the air,” says-I. Then she smiled like she could. Close up to me she come and looked me in the eye, smiling. Like a flower she seemed, _half- crushed in the mud, and yet lovely. So there we stood, me steering with one hand and the Caramao pounding and bucking and groaning. “You’re the best man I eyer knowed,” she says. “Don’t forget you ain’t knowed many,” says I. She fair laughed at that—but the laugh ended in a gasp, and she jumped away. And turning half-around, I seen Duff knock her flat to the deck. Then he come for me. “Now you Z But here’s Hayward running up the ladder. “Cap’n, the men want you. Bell is dead!” Duff turned, the blue gun under his fingers. “Well, and what if he is?” he screeches. “By I’ll show the rats who’s skipper here! Dead, is he? Want me, hey? Tl come!” The man was wild with rum. He shook his fist under my nose and stumbled down after Hayward. I left the wheel and picked up the girl We heard two shots—then two more. But I never laid eyes on Duff again. CSN WE waited on the bridge. Pretty soon (a y) along I heard the black gang come curs- S54) ing and scrambling up through the gratings, and then a mighty hissing and boil- ing. No need to pass the word. The water was up to her fires. And the Caramao began to list heavy to starboard. ‘Then the big seas played with her. I run down to her decks and tripped over Hayward at the foot of the ladder. He laid on his face. The back of his head was stove to pulp. Down aft they had a boat loose. Watson ‘ith them. Nobody but black gangs would of ever tried to launch a boat that night. I called them fools and they called me worse and jumped in. And as they manned the falls to lower away, come a gray old sea and a roll of the deck. Against the Caramao’s steel plates that boat smashed to splinters and the bunch of them dropped out of sight. Then I tumbled up and down over the buck- ing decks of that misbegotten craft, calling for the men. Not a living soul could I find—but three more corpses, and one held the blue gun. So then I knowed where Duff was gone. And I went up to the bridge and found that child cuddled into a corner. When she seen me she gave a cry, holding out her arms. I done what I could to comfort her. ‘ Gomichboo ‘Si co