Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

ae =. 716 ~ “Bos’n, get your watch tackle along to the tops’l sheets.” ‘“ Aye, aye, sir.’ Soon the ies and headsails fluttered in the gear, and the Orion began to feel the breath of life. “Now, then, my bullies, lead out your tops’l halyards, fore and aft, and masthead her.” “‘ Aye, aye, sir.” Dickey Dawson took the forehand of the foretopsail halyards, and to the air of “ Blow, Boys, Blow,” paid his compliments to Battling Burke in this wise: “Oh, Battling Burke, he loves us sailors, Blow, boys, blow. Oh, yes he does like hell and blazes, Blow, my bully boys, blow!” This last. improvised touch on the part of the chanteyman rendered him solid with the skipper. Bully McGee paced the quar- ter, snapping his fingers in joyous anticipa- tion of the way he intended to drive his ship to the south’ard. “T got a crew at last that’s something more than almshouse foundlings. Just wait till I drop ye, Mr. Pilot! Just wait till I drop ye, and then, by the gods, ye’ll see this blasted hooker cracking on the dimity,” The canvas was set fore and aft, the in- ner and outer jibs were run up, the sheets hauled to windward, the main and after yards were braced to the wind, the fore- topsail was laid to the mast, and the Orion began to look like some white winged al- batross fluttering before her flight. The anchor was hove up and catted, the vessel paid off and gathered way in the slack water, while Dickey Dawson put the crew on their toes to drive the good ship winging seaward: “Our bark’s a Bluenose clipper, An’ our skipper’s Bluenose, too, Our cook’s a Bluenose blacky, An’ we're ’most a Bluenose crew. “ Heave hearty on the chorus, then, As lusty as ye can, For we're outward bound this morning, On a Nova Scotia man.” Jack Flemming had been bringing ships down the harbor for years, but with the at = x Pel” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. gusto of this melody it seemed as though he heard an echo from the piping days of yore. “Sounds like real old times,” he ex- claimed, “ to hear ’em whooping her up like that across the bar.” The skipper paused again, and listened to Dickey Dawson in the advanced stages of hilarious intoxication, pouring out his immortal soul in those work songs of the sea. “Aye, Mr. Pilot, I’m a telling ye one good chanteyman like that is worth four men to a watch. Give me a singing ship, and a singing crew and I'll drive her to the crack 0’ doom.” The Orion was by the wind, a full nor’- wester two points abaft the beam, and with white caps dancing down the harbor, she went storming seaward. Beyond the protecting heads, she struck the open roll of the Atlantic, and began to spit forward, lifting a haycock of foam from the indigo blue. Everything was going merrily when by the Sambro Lightship, theetender drew up for Captain McGee to drop the pilot. While fat, old Jack Flemming was clambering down the ladder, another craft shot up to leeward, and cast a line to an expectant hand. In a thrice Mulligan, McGuirk, and the rest of the boarding house runners were over the side, some one cut the painter and they swung her clear. The last man to leap was Barney Up- — gate. Barney had been standing to the wheel, keeping a good full and by in the stiff nor’wester. As he left the wheel he was relieved by Cecil Catty, steering vet- eran of the vat room. For a few moments Catty held the Orion steadily upon her course. Then with an oath from Captain McGee at the escaping shipmates, Catty turned back to see what could have happened. As he did so, in a sudden puff, the wheel was wrenched from his lightly clutching grasp, and in a twin- kling the vessel was caught aback, with a thunder of canvas, and a terrifying rend- ing of spars and gear. | The whole thing happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that Captain McGee was taken completely off his guard. It was as if some giant battle ax had suddenly been EOmicbooks.com “a3 => = > , tae 4 C—O, an