Blow the Man Down, Holman Day [e ink epub reader TXT] 📗

lot of sympathy for you and for the rest of the schooner people. I have been right there in the office, and have had a finger in the pie, and I've seen what has been done in a good many cases. Of course, you understand, this is all between us! I'm not giving away any of the office secrets to be used against the big fellows. But I'm willing to show that I'm a friend of yours. And I know you'll be a friend of mine, and keep mum. All is, you can get wise from what I tell you and can keep your eyes peeled from now on."
Mayo heard fragmentary explanation of how the combination of steamboat and barge interests had operated to leave only pickings to the schooners. The two men were tramping the deck together, and at the turns were too far away from him to be heard distinctly.
"But they're putting over the biggest job of all just now," proceeded Bradish. "Confound it, Captain Downs, I'm not to be blamed for running away with a man's daughter after watching him operate as long as I have. His motto is, 'Go after it when you see a thing you want in this world.' I've been trained to that system. I've got just as much right to go after a thing as he. I'm treasurer of the Paramount--that's the trust with which they intend to smash the opposition. My job is to ask no questions and to sign checks when they tell me to, and Heaven only knows what kind of a goat it will make of me if they ever have a show-down in the courts! They worked some kind of a shenanigan to grab off the Vose line; I wired a pot of money to Fletcher Fogg, who was doing the dirty work, and it was paid to a clerk to work proxies at the annual meeting. And then Fogg put up some kind of a job on a greenhorn captain--worked a flip trick on the fellow and made him shove the _Montana_ onto the sands. I suppose they'll have the Vose line at their price before I get back."
Mayo sat there in the shadow, squatting on legs which trembled.
This babbler--tongue loosened by his new liberty and by the antagonism his small nature was developing, anticipating his employer's enmity--had dropped a word of what Mayo knew must be the truth. It had been a trick--and Fletcher Fogg had worked it! Mayo did not know who Fletcher Fogg's employer might be. From what office this tattler came he did not know; but it was evident that Bradish was cognizant of the trick. As a result of that trick, an honest man had been ruined and blacklisted, deprived of opportunity to work in his profession, was a fugitive, a despised sailor, kicked to the Very bottom of the ladder he had climbed so patiently and honorably.
Furious passion bowled over Mayo's prudence. He leaped down from the top of the house and presented himself in front of the two men.
"I heard it--I couldn't help hearing it!" he stuttered.
"Here's a nigger gone crazy!" yelped Captain Downs. "Ahoy, there, for'ard! Tumble aft with a rope!"
"I'm no nigger, and I'm not crazy!" shouted Mayo.
The swinging lantern in the companionway lighted him dimly. But in the gloom his dusky hue was only the more accentuated. His excitement seemed that of a man whose wits had been touched.
"I knew it was a trick. But what was the trick?" he demanded, starting toward Bradish, his clutching hands outspread.
Captain Downs kicked at this obstreperous sailor, and at the same time fanned a blow at his head with open palm.
Mayo avoided both the foot and the hand. "What does the law say about striking a sailor, captain? Hold on, there! I'm just as good a man as you are. Don't you tell those men to lay hands on me." He backed away from the sailors who came running aft, with the second mate marshaling them. He stripped up his sleeve and held his arm across the radiance of the binnacle light. "That's a white man's skin, isn't it?" he demanded.
"What kind of play-acting is all this?" asked Old Mull, with astonished indignation.
In that crisis Mayo controlled his tongue after a mighty effort to steady himself. He was prompted to obey his mood and announce his identity with all the fury that was in him. But here stood the man who had served as one of the tools of his enemies, whoever they were. For his weapon against this man Mayo had only a few words of gossip which had been dropped in an unwary moment; he realized his position; he regretted his passionate haste. He was not ready to put himself into the power of his enemies by telling this man who he was; he remembered that he was running away from the law.
Bradish gaped at this intruder without seeming to understand what it all meant.
"Passengers better get below out of the muss," advised Captain Downs. "Here's a crazy nigger, mate. Grab him and tie him up."
Mayo backed to the rack at the rail and pulled out two belaying-pins, mighty weapons, one for each hand.
Bradish hurried away into the depths of the house, manifestly glad to get out from underfoot.
"Don't you allow those niggers to lay their hands on me," repeated the man at bay. "Captain Downs, let me have a word to you in private." He had desperately decided on making a confidant of one of his kind. He bitterly needed the help a master mariner could give him.
"Get at him!" roared the skipper. "Go in, you niggers!"
"By the gods! you'll be short-handed, sir. I'll kill 'em!"
That threat was more effective than mere bluster. Captain Downs instinctively squinted aloft at the scud which was dimming the stars; he sniffed at the volleying wind.
"One word to you, and you'll understand, sir!" pleaded Mayo. He put the pins back into the rack and walked straight to the captain.
There was no menace in his action, and the mate did not interfere.
"Just a word or two to you, sir, to show you that I have done more than throw my hat into the door of the Masters and Mates Association." He leaned close and whispered. "Now let me tell you something else--in private?" he urged in low tones.
Captain Downs glanced again at the bared arm and surveyed this sailor with more careful scrutiny. "You go around and come into the for'ard cabin through the coach-house door," he commanded, after a little hesitation.
Mayo bowed and hurried away down the lee alley.
That cabin designated as the place of conference was the dining-saloon of the schooner. He waited there until Captain Downs, moving his bulk more deliberately, trudged down the main companionway and came into the apartment through its after-door which no sailor was allowed to profane.
"Can anybody--in there--hear?" asked Mayo, cautiously. He pointed to the main saloon.
"She's in her stateroom and he's talking through the door," grunted the skipper. "Now what's on your mind?"
Mayo reached his hand into an inside pocket of his shirt and drew forth a document. He laid it in Captain Downs's hand. The skipper sat down at the table, pulled out his spectacles, and adjusted them on his bulging nose in leisurely fashion, spread the paper on the red damask cloth, and studied it. He tipped down his head and stared at Mayo over the edge of his glasses with true astonishment.
"This your name in these master's papers?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir."
"You're--you claim to be the Captain Mayo who smashed the _Montana?_"
"I'm the man, sir. I hung on to my papers, even though they have been canceled."
"How do I know about these papers? How do I know your name is Mayo? You might have stolen 'em--though, for that matter, you might just as well carry a dynamite bomb around in your pocket, for all the good they'll do you."
"That's the point, sir. They merely prove my identity. Nobody else would want them. Captain Downs, I'm running away from the law. I own up to you. Let me tell you how it happened."
"Make it short," snapped the captain, showing no great amiability toward this plucked and discredited master. "The wind is breezing up."
He told his story concisely and in manly fashion, standing up while Captain Downs sat and stared over his spectacles, drumming his stubby fingers on the red damask.
"There, sir, that's why I am here and how I happened to get here," Mayo concluded.
"I ain't prepared to say it isn't so," admitted Old Mull at last, "no matter how foolish it sounds. And I'm wondering if next I'll find the King of Peruvia or the Queen of Sheba aboard this schooner. New folks are piling in fast! I know Captain Wass pretty well, though I never laid eye on you to know you. Where's that wart on his face?"
"Starboard side of his nose, sir."
"What does he do, whittle off his chaw or bite the plug?"
"Neither. Chews fine cut."
"What's his favorite line of talk?"
"Reciting the pilot rules and jawing because the big fellows slam along without observing them."
"Last remark showing that you have been in the pilothouse along with Captain Wass! Examination is over and you rank one hundred and the board stands adjourned!" He rose and shook hands with Mayo. "Now what can I do for you?"
"I don't suppose you can do much of anything, Captain Downs. But I'm going to ask you this, master to masted. Don't let a soul aboard this schooner know who I am--especially those two back there!" He pointed to the door of the main saloon.
"Seems to be more or less of a masked-ball party aboard here!" growled the skipper.
"That man you call Bradish, whoever he is, knows what kind of a game they played on me. I want to get it out of him. If he knows who I am he won't loosen! I was a fool to break in as I did. He was coming across to you."
"Seemed to be pretty gossipy," admitted the captain. "Is trying to be my special chum so as to work me!"
"Don't you suppose you can get some more out of him?"
"Might be done."
"I feel that it's sailors against the shore pirates this time, sir. Won't you call that man out here and ask him some questions and allow me to listen?"
"Under the circumstances I'll do it. Sailors first is my motto. You step into the mate's stateroom, there, and put ear to the crack o' the door."
But when Bradish appeared, answering the captain's summons, all his chattiness had left him. He declared that he knew nothing about the trouble in the _Montana_ case.
"But you said something about a scheme to fool a green captain?"
"It was only gossip--I probably got it wrong. I have thought it over and really can't remember where I heard it or much about it. Might have been just newspaper faking."
He kept peering about the dimly lighted room.
"You needn't worry, young man. That nigger isn't here."
"But he said he was a white man. And how does he come to be interested?"
"It's a nigger gone crazy about that case--he has probably been reading fake stories in the papers, too," stated Captain Downs, grimly. "I must remind you again, Bradish, that you were talking to me in pretty lively style."
"Oh, a man lets out a lot of guesswork when he is nervous about his own business."
"Well, I might fix it so that you'd be a little less nervous, providing you'll show a more willing disposition when I ask you a few questions," probed the skipper. But this insistence alarmed Bradish and his