Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

oz the Christmas presents ve gave us, or the time ye helped Andy Wige when his wife died. All them things ain’t in the articles, neither. I speak fer the whole crew; we’re wit’ yer, an’ I kin lick the scut that: says he ain’t!” He swung around and faced the men behind him. What he saw caused him to face about again. “ Yer see? Half o’ them guys has belayin’ pins already.” He returned to his place in the group, adding: “Yer draws a hell of a lot of water wit’ us!” The men nodded forcibly, a few glanced around for weapons. Fitz smiled at their show of loyalty and ordered them to stand by, but to wait for his orders. The schooner had been positively identi- fied as the Mary by Dunn. They saw her heave to a scant half mile away and a boatload of men leave the side and head to- ward the Olympia. “Bell of a big crew for that boat,” Dunn commented. “ Looks like a Tippe- rary christening. Give me that mega- phon, Fitz. Miss Florence, please go be- low. There'll be a lot of fo’e’s’le language flying around here in a minute.” They watched the boat forge nearer and nearer. In the stern sheets sat the skipper with the tiller in his left hand; his right was hidden below a piece of canvas thrown carelessly against his leg. Neither Fitz nor Dunn had ever seen his disreputable look- ing face before. It was a succession of lumps and ridges, cracks and valleys, with black hair sprouting all over it. A suit of duck, once white but now spotted with dirt and tobacco juice, covered his huge fat frame: He was barefooted, with his trouser bottoms rolled up carelessly. Dunn count- ed twelve men, too many for a vessel the size of the Mary; they were in various stages of undress; but all qualified by their dissolute faces for a life membership in a standard penitentiary. When they were within hailing distance Dunn lifted the megaphone to his lips. “Ahoy there! What do you want?” The hail affected the skipper of the boat not at all. The men continued to pull with unabated rhythm. “In the boat! What do you want?” Dunn shouted again. The boat was drawing alongside of the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. gangway. Dunn signaled to the men to step aside while he went to the top of the ladder. The boat crew had inboarded their oars; the skipper was standing erect. He answered the last hail. “Tf ye don’t mind, I’d like to come aboard and have a chin-chin with the mas- rere The distrust in Dunn’s mind caused him to answer: “‘ I’m the master; what do you want?” “Ross *s me name,” the evil looking skipper went on, “an’ I want to know what you people is doin’ here. If ye is after salvage, ye might as well pick up yer mud hook and beat it. I bought what was left o’ the schooner Defender, an’ I ain’t gonna let any one play in me back yard. I thought I’d tell ye, so’s they wouldn’t be any rumpus when I puts over my divers.” “The devil you say!” Dunn ejaculated. “You bought the Defender, did you? Well, Mr. Ross, you’re a damn liar! I own the Defender; U’ve always owned her. This may be your back yard, but the Defender’s mine! Don’t forget it! If you’re looking for an argument, well, I’ll give you a belly full. Jl hammer the head off the bunch of you! TI was raised in the middle of one continuous battle and I haven’t forgotten what I learned. Now shove off, while you're all in one piece. We'll chop you up and feed you to the canaries.” From the corner of his eye Dunn saw the men in the boat nonchalantly shift their positions. The bluff had failed. Ross, he felt sure, was sparring for time. The fellow did not resent his epithet, but glanced at his men as if communicating with them. Dunn stripped off his coat; his shirt fol- lowed rapidly, revealing an enormous pair of shoulders that bulged with muscle and solid meat, His arms looked like pistons on a steam locomotive. The low side of the Olympia offered a splendid chance for a boarding party, Dunn thought suddenly and at this point Ross gave a bellow: “At ’em, boys! Over ye go!” Before Fitz could fire, before any one could make a move, the low rail of the Olympia was covered with black forms. 2A oO Eomicidookssco