The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

856 She carried a crew of a hundred ‘and twenty men. It must be remem- bered that our crews were rarely ap- portioned to the size of the vessels, be- cause most of our fighting was done ashore. In the last three years Morgan had not fought a dozen sea fights. The Spanish towns were so accessible and so rich that our vessels were used merely to take us to the place, after which came the real work ashore. Hetherington was our captain, a slenderly built man with cold gray eyes that when he looked at one made the man feel as though he had suddenly’ placed his hand upon a toad. Oakes and I went aboard at dusk, and at moonrise, which was about ten o’clock, we heard the clank! clank! clank! of the windlass pawls as anchor after anchor was hove short, and an hour later vessel after vessel slipped quietly out of the harbor, following in the wake of Morgan’s own ship, steer- ing by the light of her high poop lan- terns as they flashed their radiance into the foaming wake astern. “Where are we going?” I asked Oakes as we stood by the rail watching the last twinkle of the anchor lights on the few craft that we had left behind as they died away in the smother. “Sh! Sh! Jenkins tells me that we are to go to the Isle of Cows—La Isla de Vacas, as the Spaniards call it —to meet the rest of the fleet, and then for the mainland. Look here, Up- holme, it just occurred to me last night! What are you mixed up in this matter for? I am in for my revenge, but you have no right to be periling yourself in such an affair.”’ “ Haven’t I? How about my lost cargo of tobacco and corn? Who is to pay me for that? Who is to pay for the loss of the Lone Star, confis- cated? And there is the score of seven lives yet to be settled, so far as I know. Don’t talk to me of that when our ‘men, if not tortured and killed, are working as slaves in the THE ARGOSY. galleys or on the plantations of some Spanish don.” He laughed harshly. “ Sits the wind in that quarter? J like it in you, lad,” and he thrust out his sound hand to me. Early the next morning, while I was still at my breakfast, I was aroused by: “Upholme! Upholme!” The cry passed along the decks. “Wanted aft in the cabin,’ and I walked hurriedly up the wide com- panion ladder and went down into the cabin. | Captain Hetherington sat in the quarter-gallery, a pot of wine before him. Two men sat by him and a red- shirted, black-bearded sentry stood close behind him with a drawn cutlas. They looked me over as I stood in the doorway. “I have noticed your sword-play,”’ said the captain. “ Are you a good shot? ”’ “T am, sir. JI have lived for five years in the plantations, where the most of our food was the game that L killed.” “Show me.” He pointed to a long- barreled musket that stood in a rack behind the door. I took it, opened the pan, and re- primed it, and looked for a mark. A tiny jewel-block that had fetched away aloft swung and jerked at the end of its pendant. _ Dropping the barrel of the piece into my extended left hand, I fired. The block flew out with a snap. Captain Hetherington nodded approval. “That was no difficult task,” I said. “T can hit a running buck at a hundred paces.” “Can you read and write as well as you can shoot?” “Ves: sits” “Move your bedding aft. Your duties while at sea will be to enter up the log and to do as such work as I give you. You are no sailor, and the men are already too crowded for- ward.” So it was that again I found my- self forming part of the afterguard. Gomichbooks (E@)