Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

Carstairs Plays a Hunch table. “Why doesn’t he put into the Bahamas? She’s about done!” If he agreed with this verdict, Captain Merriweather made no comment on the fact. But the crew, belligerent when the Yamacraw departed with the sailing-ship in tow, began to grow restive. There was no let-up in the work. The Old Man was a slave-driver, and his ship would never fetch anywhere, unless it was the bottom of the Atlantic! Faney, cogitating in his room over things in general, was seized with an inspiration. ‘““We’re so close to the Bahamas, I can smell the booze!” he chuckled to him- self. “If that fool skipper and his precious second mate love this floating hearse so well, let °em have her to themselves. Guess the men’ jump at the chance to clear out!” He sauntered out on deck, beckoned to the cursing bo’s’n and briefly laid bare his idea. As Faney had had no liquor recently, Captain Merrtweather had again trusted him to stand watch on the bridge. He had been. forced to trust the mate, for Carstairs and the skipper, himself, were sadly in need of sleep. And when they finally slept, it was as if they had been drugged. Hence it was that, during Faney’s watch, at about five in the morning, the crew of the Balandra Head, under the clever guidance of the mate, eased the two boats overside and made what they considered their escape from a doomed ship. Only one man, be- sides the sleeping skipper and second mate, was left. This was Mr. Belding, who re- signedly remained below, after refusing to join the deserters. He made no protest at their departure. His engines were at their last gasp, and he knew it. However, he’d stick with them. When Faney had approached him and laid bare the plans, Belding had eyed him contemptuously. “Youre the scum o’ the earth!” he re- marked simply. “Get to outa my sight!’ The last of the deserters to leave was the man at the wheel. He had mockingly made sure the Balandra Head was on her course, had elaborately made the wheel fast, had swept it a flourishing courtesy and had joined his waiting companions. Mr. Belding, below, gazed ruefully at the steam gauge. Then he sighed, shut down the engines and lighted a vile-smelling pipe. The sudden quiet awakened both Cap- 149 tain Merriweather and his second mate. Carstairs, running out on deck, found the Balandra Head lying peacefully upon the waters, while the sun, a great golden ball, arose over the eastern horizon. Hugh had instinctively run toward the bridge ladder, and he went up it like a cat up a tree. At the top, he found Captain Merriweather dazed but dignified in a flannel night- shirt. “They’ve gone,” the skipper remarked quietly, making a comprehensive gesture toward the west where two small boats, manned by exuberant crews, were bound Bahama- and hooch-ward. “The skunks!” Hugh breathed. Captain Merriweather shook his head. “Dunno as I blame ’em,” he said mildly. “Besides, Mister Faney was_ probably thirsty.” Hugh looked down at the ludicrous figure before him. “What was the idea of the hootch-run- ning, sir?’ he asked, gently. “Do you need money?” For a moment the Old Man’s lips twitched and he swallowed hard. When he finally spoke his voice was unusually docile, and he had a look in his eyes as they met Hugh’s, that reminded the latter of his dog at home. “All my life,” Captain Merriweather said slowly, “I been to sea in rotten ships. Seemed like I just didn’t fit in nothin’ else. I been sneerin’ all them years at mail- boats an’ fancy freighters, an’ wishin’ to —— I could sail in either with decent men about me. “Ain’t never married. If I hadda, I’d ha’ dreamed of a son like you.” He paused and again his lips twitched. When he could control them, he continued: “T been savin’ all them years, an’ never rightly guessed what for till you come along. I was goin’ to buy me one o’ them fancy freighters, thinkin’ mebbe you’d stick, as my mate. An’ I got to figgerin’ and to bein’ afraid I wouldn’t have quite enough money. So I kinda thought a big haul o’ hooch would do the trick.” Carstairs’ throat tightened. He felt suddenly infinitely smaller than the ridicu- lous little figure before him. “Skipper,” he said, softly, “in Port au Prince I cabled home to my dad.” “That you wus quittin’? I—I don’t blame you!” Go DOOLK C@