Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

THE CRIMP. 333 long-lost son. They descended to the whaler’s cabin while Hansen was hooking the dingey’s bow to a dangling fall. “To be brief as possible,” said Gully after. pouring out a generous portion oi rum,” I want six men before midnight, when the tide turns.” “What kind of men, cappin?”’ “Any kind, so long as they are husky— Chinks, Kanakas, dock-rats, mission-stiffs.” Abie the Crimp, as he was known along the Barbary Coast, upended the rum, wiped his mouth, and stared at the skipper of the Bowhead. _ Captain Gully was tall, thin, and weather-beaten. Abie was slight. He had hawk eyes, black as beads; a hawk’s long nose and a disappearing chin. He kad been born in San Francisco. His mother ‘owned the dive known from the Golden Gate to Vladivostok as the Blubber Room. . oat “Cap,” said Abie, “Id like to assist you, but you know the law.” “Time was when you didn’t speak to me of any law.” “ That time is gone, cap. The Seamen’s “Union is hostile to shanghaiin’. The crews of all ships going out must sign before the proper authorities.” Captain Gully knew Abie’ s former price. “There’s a hundred dollars advance for every man you bring aboard who won't care what he signs.” ‘Blood money?” “Ves. I'll pay it to you out of hand.” Captain Gully touched his right breast, where a bulging pocket showed. Abie the Crimp needed money. Six hundred dollars was a fair figure to pay for six men. “ There’s only one way to get them,” he said. “What is that way, Abie?” ‘Th’ same way I fixed up old Cappin Pike of th’ Norwhale, season before last. He went north with twenty-two good men. I furnished them all except three.” There was pride in Abie’s voice. Cap- tain Gully worked on this. He suggested: “T only want six. Why, that ain’t many for a runner like you.” ‘Not many? I should say it was, the way things are ashore—Seamen’s Union, Coaster Unions, Shipping Board paying eighty dollars a month for ordinary sailors. No, it isn’t many, but they are going to be hard to get. Make it one hundred and twenty-five dollars a man.” ‘“ How are you going about getting them aboard, Abie?”’ ‘A new idea with me. I’m a govern- ment detective, see. I know the hangouts and scatters-of all the crooks in San Fran- cisco. I know where they’re coinin’ the queer. I know of a few stills. I heard yesterday of two new hop joints right on Dupont Street.” “You'll represent yourself as an officer of the law?” “Tve got a gold badge. pinch, turn them over to an assistant de- tective who will bring them out to this ship, and you can do the rest. They’ll be glad enough for getaway when I get done with them.” “Tl make it one hundred and twenty- five, Abie, if you hurry.” The crimp paused with one foot on the ladder which led to the quarter-deck of the Bowhead. ‘“There’s a detective in town, cap, no- body ever saw as far as I can find out. His name is James Keenon. They’re afraid as hell of him. Jl be Keenon to-night. I'll make six quiet pinches and send the men ~ out to you.’ “But they might start trouble bette they-sign on for the voyage.” Abie the Crimp laid his hand over his heart. “Cap,” he declared, ‘“‘ there’s men ashore—Chinks and crooks—who would pay you five hundred dollars to get away from Keenon. See the point?” Captain Gully nodded. “All right, I'll be waiting, Abie. you need a boat?” “Lend me your dingey. . Let me have that mate, Hansen. He’s got a pair of blue pants on—just the thing to imitate a copper’s.”’ ‘Where will the boat be if I want it?” ‘At the foot of Meigg’s wharf.”’ ‘““ What time are you going to send out the first men?” Do T’ll make the | Comicbooks (E(0) mn