"I do," said Hunt firmly. "I do."
"Why not get him shanghaied?" asked Gardiner, and he walked away very
swiftly, and did not return when Hunt called to him.
"By the Great Horn Spoon and the tail of the Sacred Bull, I'll not
give her up," said Gardiner; "certainly not to a man like Hunt, or to
a dude like Gawthrop. Sooner than that I'll write to the old man and
squeal. He'll rub it in, but after all he is the dad, and she----"
Ah, she was everything.
"Let the best man win. I'm in the game, after all," said Gardiner.
"And to think if she hadn't recognised me to-day I'd have thrown it
up!"
He was not surprised to see Hunt the next afternoon, though every one
else in the office was astonished to see him looking for a mere
reporter.
"Do you remember what you said to me last night?" asked Hunt rather
nervously.
"About what?"
"About somebody called Shanghai Smith?"
He stared out of the window as he spoke.
"I remember, Hunt."
"Can it be done?"
"Can what be done?"
"Could I get rid of that Gawthrop for a month or two?"
"I shouldn't be surprised, if you put up the dollars."
"Will you help me?"
"And get myself--disliked?"
He was going to say--"get myself in the penitentiary," but on
reflection he did not desire to frighten Hunt. After all, the affair
would cause so much laughter that legal proceedings were not likely
to rise out of it.
"I don't want you to show. Only give me a pointer. Could you bring
this Smith to me?"
Gardiner stabbed his desk with a pen-knife, and considered the matter
for a moment.
"Look here," he said, "I want to deal as squarely as I can with you.
I don't want either you or Gawthrop to marry this particular lady."
Hunt stared at him.
"You don't? Oh! I say, Gardiner----" and he burst into laughter,
which Gardiner apparently did not resent.
"Yes, I know I'm a newspaper dog, and so on; let that be. If I chose
to crawl down and go East, I could stack dollar for dollar with half
of you in time. What I'm telling you is this: I think Gawthrop has
more show than you, and I'd be glad to get him out of the way, just
as he'd no doubt be glad to get you out. I'll help if you'll hold
your tongue about me, whatever happens."
"Very well," said Hunt; "I give you my word."
"Whatever happens?"
"Whatever happens."
"Of course I shall do everything I can to win."
"That's only natural," said Hunt; "but I'll bet you a thousand
dollars that if I get Gawthrop out of the way I'll marry Miss
Atherton inside of three months."
"Whatever happens?"
"Whatever happens."
"Then I take that bet," said Gardiner, "and to-morrow you shall meet
Shanghai."
But when Hunt had gone, Gardiner winked steadily at nothing and
stroked his chin.
"Great Scott, this _is_ a game," he said. "I wonder where Gawthrop
is?"
But before he found out he sat down and wrote a letter to the elder
Gardiner in New York. It was late that evening before he went down
to that undesirable quarter of San Francisco known as the Barbary
Coast, where Shanghai Smith had his sailor-robbing den located.
As he went along the water-front and saw the ships lying at the
wharves, it was "plumb" dark. Though he knew every tough in the
city, he walked some way from the edge of the wharves and kept his
hand on his six-shooter in the right-hand pocket of his coat. There
is never any knowing what may happen in the low quarters of that sink
of the Pacific, where all the scum of the world gathers, and it is
well to keep one's eyes skinned lest worse may befall. Gardiner had
no desire to turn up on a trestle at the morgue as his next public
appearance. But though he was careful, he went cheerfully, and could
not help laughing.
"Great Scott, to think of Sibley Gawthrop as an able seaman on board
the _Harvester_ or the _Wanderer_! But won't it do him good? These
young Californians are a rotten crowd."
He came at last to Smith's house, and stepped upon the verandah floor
boldly.
"Why, it's Mr. Gardiner of the _Chronicle_, so it is," said Billy,
who was Smith's runner, and, next to his boss and a few politicians,
the hardest case in California. "Is it Mr. Smith you want to see,
sir?"
"I'm only just doing a run around, and thought I'd look in, Billy,"
said Gardiner carelessly.
"Ay, just a _cultus nannitch_, as they say in Chinook," replied
Billy. "But we're always glad to see you."
Gardiner doubted that. But Smith was always civil to newspaper men.
He hadn't Gardiner bought, as he had the police, and he knew that a
true column and a bit on his doings might bring down an avalanche any
day.
"And here is Mr. Smith," said Billy.
"How are you makin' it?" asked Smith, "and what'll you drink?"
But Gardiner was not drinking. It was so notoriously unhealthy to
drink at Shanghai's place that few sober men were reckless enough to
take a cocktail there.
"How are you off for men?" asked Gardiner. "Is business good?"
Smith shook his head.
"Men? There are too many of 'em! Now hell ain't fuller of devils,
Mr. Gardiner, than what San Francisco is of sailors, and you know as
well as me that with sailormen a drug in the market, I don't come out
on top."
"To be sure," said Gardiner, "but I was thinking, as I came along,
that you might get a ship for a young friend of mine."
"I'll be glad to do anythin' for any friend of yours," said Smith,
"but as I'm tellin' you, 'tis as easy to be President of the United
States as to do business with the streets full of men that lets on to
be sailors. What kind of a job is your friend lookin' for?"
Gardiner laughed.
"I want him to go a voyage before the mast. It will do him good."
"Ah," said Smith quickly, "what's the game? But whatever it is with
you, I'm on! Say it and mean it!--that's me."
Gardiner edged him up to the quiet end of the verandah.
"Smith, can you hold your tongue and earn a thousand dollars?"
"Can I do what?" asked Smith. "Look here, so help me, I'd cut my
tongue out for a thousand. I tell you, things are tough. What's the
game?"
And Gardiner, after looking round, whispered in his ear.
"Whew!" whistled Smith; "you don't mean it. Young Sibley Gawthrop!
Holy sailor, I'd rather not touch him. His father is a power in the
land."
Gardiner shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, very well, there are others. And in any case, who need know you
took a hand in it? Now, will you or won't you? Yes or no, or I quit
right here."
"You don't quit. I'll do it," said Smith. "I'll do it for you,
C.O.D."
It can be judged how much he did it for Gardiner when C.O.D. is
translated "Cash on Delivery."
"Right!" said Gardiner, "and pick him a nice easy ship. A good old
English limejuicer will be the thing. I want him to go to Europe."
He went up town, and curiously enough found himself having supper in
the swagger restaurant of the city at the next table to Hunt's victim.
"Gawthrop, I want to have a talk with you on very special business,"
he said. "Can you spare me half an hour to-morrow morning if I call
on you?"
And when they parted next morning, after their talk on "very special
business," Sibley Gawthrop was in a high state of excitement.
"If I can only get that Hunt out of the way for three months, I
believe I can work the racket with her. But what I can't understand
is Gardiner's notion that he has any chance. I suppose that's what
he meant by keeping on saying, 'Don't think I do this for you. I'm
not in it for friendship or for my health. I'll do you if I can.'
Poor beggar, he hasn't the least show. Oh, but isn't this a game!
To think of old Hunt turning up in the London Docks!"
He actually drove along the water-front that morning in order to
gloat over the ships in the harbour, and when he saw men working up
aloft he burst into laughter. The notion was splendid, whatever
motive Gardiner had in putting him up to it. It was odd that he had
never taken any interest in the seafaring trade of the city before.
Gawthrop eyed the very loafers on the wharves with new feelings.
Though he did not know it, he saw Shanghai Smith and his runner Billy
at the bottom of Spear Street.
"Jehoshaphat," said Smith, "now this is a queer coincī-dence. Billy,
that's the young feller I've been telling you about. See him?"
"Rather," growled Bill. "When do you want him shipped, and how am I
to get him?"
"I'll tell you when it's fixed up," said Smith. "I've got to see the
chap that's runnin' the show."
"There'll be a holy row on about it," grunted Bill. "It ain't
exackly legitimate business, Mr. Smith. It's all mighty well doin'
what I know. I can get a crew out of a ship in the bay with any man;
but shanghain' sons of millionaires----"
"You're a forsaken fool," said Smith. "If you do it neatly, who's to
know till he comes back? And who knows then you or I done it? And
ain't I reckonin' to allow you a bonus of ten dollars extra? With
times as they is now, ten dollars is ten dollars, lemme tell you.
And you've taken to growlin' lately in a way I'm not goin' to stand,
Bill. I don't want any slack-jaw from you, so there."
"Who's givin' any slack-jaw?" expostulated the runner. "I suppose a
man can hev an opinion?"
"And he can keep it till called for, too," said his boss. "I can
lick you any time."
And Bill growled, "Who says you can't? Would I be workin' for you if
you couldn't?" The inference was not exactly obvious.
That afternoon Gardiner came down again to the Barbary Coast, and had
another talk with Shanghai Smith.
"What, another of 'em?" asked Shanghai. "I say, Mr. Gardiner, this
is a bit thick!"
"Yes, it's two thousand dollars thick," said Gardiner; "if you could
only ship a whole crew on such terms, you might retire and go in for
politics."
"And who's the man this time?"
"It's Jack Hunt."
"Him as is payin' for Gawthrop?"
Gardiner nodded.
"And who's payin' for Hunt?"
Gardiner took him by the greasy lapel of his coat.
"I'll tell you--it's Gawthrop!"
Gardiner, who was doing the dramatic criticism for the _Chronicle_
that night, saw Gawthrop and Hunt in Miss Atherton's box at the Opera
House. They appeared to be on very good terms, and were both in an
excellent humour. For all that he had planned, George Gardiner was
in no great good temper when he imagined that Edith showed more
favour to Sibley than to his rival.
"He's not a bad sort, but he's not the sort to marry a girl like
that," said Gardiner; "if she only knew the life he has led, she'd
give him the mitten right off. And I could let her know. It's doing
him a favour to send him to sea. And as for Hunt, he's really mean.
Life won't be all pie to him as he's laid it out to be. She'll think
they've shied off, and will be mad, and more ready to listen to a man
who has loved her for years, as she knows. If she'd only take me
while I'm poor, I'd be the proudest man in California. And wouldn't
it make all California sick!"
Though he did not know it, both Gawthrop and Hunt played into his
hands. Each was quite convinced that he was the favoured lover, and
as they both had a secret they used it when they got a chance.
"Gawthrop is a very nice fellow," said Jack Hunt condescendingly;
"but he never knows his own mind, Miss Atherton. I should never be
surprised to hear he had gone to Europe. He's fond of travel, and
very, very inconstant."
"Indeed," said Edith. She had found him fairly persevering. It was
strange when Hunt was called outside for a few minutes that Gawthrop,
who this night had shown no jealousy, threw out a dark hint that Hunt
was no true Californian.
"I shouldn't be in the least surprised to hear he had gone to
Europe," he said. "He's very flighty. I suppose that is the reason
he didn't marry while he was young."
Hunt was thirty, and his rival was twenty-six.
"And don't you want to see Europe?" asked Edith, who wondered what
was in the wind.
"Ah, some day, but not alone," answered Sibley. "I shall never go
without a companion."
"You should go with Jack Hunt," said Edith mischievously. "I
certainly wonder none of you travel more. Now, Mr. Gardiner down
there has been all over the world."
"Ah, poor Gardiner!" said Sibley. "How is it so clever and
good-natured a man should be doing what he is?"
And much to Sibley's astonishment, Edith Atherton turned on him with
an odd question.
"Well--and what are you doing?"
Perhaps if Gardiner had heard her ask that question, he might have
considered that Shanghai Smith need not intervene after all.
But Smith did intervene that night.
When Gawthrop left the theatre he went straight down Market Street to
the water-front, and found his way to Shanghai Smith's without any
difficulty. He had plenty of pluck, and plenty of ignorance of the
real conditions of life in San Francisco. What he heard and what he
read about the matter did not touch him; he lived in security in
quite another world from the scoundrels at the bottom of Clay Street
and the toughs of the "Coast." Life there was a theatrical
representation. He sat in the stalls and said, "Poor devils, do they
really live that way?" He was Sibley Gawthrop, the son of a big man:
he was a power himself: he had no fear, and went into the trap
smiling. If he carried in his hip pocket what Westerners call a
"gun," it was on account of Western traditions. He showed no
caution, though he walked whistling in the middle of the road. He
had no chance to use any weapon, and he never saw Smith. He never
even saw Billy, Smith's runner, till Billy sand-bagged him on the
back of the head. For Smith was not to be found at his house. He
was with Gardiner, and they were both waiting till they heard from
the runner that Gawthrop was safely disposed of.
"I ain't goin' to show in it," said Smith, "and why should I? The
_Hampshire_ is short of two hands as I shipped in her myself. They
don't go aboard when they should, and they turns up drunk at my
house, and Billy puts them on board. Can I help it if he puts the
wrong ones on her? Of course I cayn't. And if Billy finds the cash
agreed on on 'em and hands it to me, why, I'll keep it till it's
claimed by the owners of it!"
He winked his eye at Gardiner, and the journalist burst into laughter.
"They'll not touch me," he said, "and if they do, I shall either have
the laugh on them or shan't care."
As he spoke, there was a message sent up from the street. A boy
wanted to see Mr. Gardiner.
"A printer's devil, of course," said Gardiner. But he knew the word
came from Billy.
"Billy, Mr. Smith's runner, gimme a quarter to run up to you, sir,
and say it's all right," said the young hoodlum. "And _he_ said you
was to gimme another quarter."
Billy had said nothing of the kind, but the boy got it all the same.
And half an hour later Jack Hunt interviewed Billy the runner in
about the same place in the dark road that Gawthrop had met him. The
runner went through his pockets eagerly.
"Two thousand in the one night," said Billy. "Oh, ain't Smith doin'
well? And two first-class guns as belongs to me. I'll shove 'em on
board the _Hampshire_ bright and early. Oh, I done it clean and
neat."
He had great professional pride, and when he came alongside the
_Hampshire_ at four o'clock in the morning, and found all hands
getting up the anchor, he felt that the thing was going to finish
itself without a hitch.
"Once at sea and the job's complete. Hallo, there, send down a whip
into the boat," he cried. "I've got them two as skipped. And good
men, too, when they're sober."
He heard the first mate bellow:
"Mr. Jones, get these swine on board quick. Drunk, are they? We'll
sober 'em. Up aloft and loose the topsails."
And the two lights of San Francisco society were carried into the
foc'sle.
"Blimy, but I'd give sumfink to be as blind speechless as this," said
one cockney, "and there ain't no chance of it till we gets to London."
But the mate was roaring overhead. They dropped Hunt and Gawthrop
into two empty bunks and went on deck.
"Can't you turn those men to?" asked the chief mate, Mr. Ladd, of
Jones. And Jones went into the foc'sle and punched both of these
gentlemen in the ribs.
"Wake up, you drunken galoots," said Jones.
In answer they both sighed and snored, and turned peaceably to rest.
Jones, who knew a bit, unhooked the lamp from the sweating beam
overhead, and lifting Hunt's eyelid with his thumb, saw that the
man's pupil was down to a pin-point. It was the same with Gawthrop.
"Hocussed, of course," he said. And he reported aft that not even
putting them under the hose would wake them for some hours.
"Confound all California and its manners and customs," said Ladd.
But the manners and customs of Shanghai Smith at any rate saved Hunt
and Gawthrop from eight hours of the finest education in the world.
It was noon, and the _Hampshire's_ crowd was at dinner when Gawthrop
showed signs of animation.
"Ah, humph!" said Gawthrop, and without opening his eyes he reached
out and pressed the head of a small bolt with his thumb.
"What's the josser doin' of?" asked Tom, the cockney who had sighed
over the fact that there was no chance of getting intoxicated until
they reached London.
"Johnson, give me some tea," said Gawthrop. He believed that his man
had answered the electric bell. But there was a Johnson, or more
properly a Johanssen, among the crew.
"Here, Dutchy, give him some tea."
Gawthrop opened his eyes and yawned. He shut his eyes again, but did
not shut his mouth in time to prevent Bill Yardley, who was the joker
of the crowd, dropping a piece of soaked biscuit into it. Gawthrop
spluttered, coughed violently, and sat up. As he did so he of course
hit his head a smart crack on the deck above him. He sat up again on
his elbow, and stared about him stupidly.
"'Ere, come out, matey, and 'ave yer grub," cried the kindly crew
with one voice.
"You've 'ad a rare good caulk," said Tom encouragingly.
"Eh, eh, what?" asked Gawthrop. He blinked at the men, and with a
fallen jaw wagged his head from side to side.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"On board the _'Ampshire_, sonny," said Tom. "Come, show a leg!"
"Humph!" said Gawthrop, and he rolled a dry tongue against his teeth.
"Am I asleep?"
"I'll lay odds you won't be in ten minutes," said Tom. "What's the
game you're playin'?"
Gawthrop stared at him and rolled his eyes round the foc'sle. He saw
fifteen grinning faces in the light from the scuttle above. Outside
the open foc'sle door he beheld the foremast, with its rail and the
gear coiled on the pins.
"It's a ship," said Gawthrop, "it's obviously a ship!"
The men looked at each other.
"D'ye think he's a greenhorn?"
"Hocussed!"
"Shanghaied!"
The word "Shanghai" fetched Gawthrop clean out of his dream.
It hit him fair and square, and though it half-stunned him, it woke
him, all the same.
"Where am I?"
"In the _Hampshire_ and at sea," said all hands eagerly. They saw
what had happened quicker than he did. For reasons which he did not
yet understand they believed him a seaman, but they saw he had been
shipped against his will.
"D'ye think it was Shanghai Smith as done it?"
"Ah," said Gawthrop. "Why, where's Hunt?"
"D'ye mean your mate as come aboard wid you?" asked Tom. "There 'e
is, 'ard and fast asleep. Wake 'im up, chaps: I say, 'ere's a game."
Gawthrop put a leg out and dropped on deck just as Tom got Hunt by
the hair and gave it a yank that nearly raised his scalp, but did not
wake him.
"Is this 'im?"
In the half-light Gawthrop saw a face which was the colour of dark
mahogany, and did not recognise his rival.
"No," he said. He did not know that Billy, with a professional
ardour that did him credit, had coloured Hunt and himself with walnut
juice on their faces and hands till they appeared to have been tanned
the three skins deep.
And just as Gawthrop denied that he knew Hunt, the boson's whistle
blew.
"You'd best come on deck. They're goin' to pick the watches," said
Tom. And Gawthrop, still in a maze, followed the rest. When the
fresh air blew on him, his mind cleared as suddenly as if a fog had
rolled up.
"By the Lord, I've been done," he said, and he knew it was Gardiner
who had done him. "All right," he said, "I'll get even. The captain
must put back. I'll pay him to do it."
His knowledge of the sea was limited. Though he was the citizen of a
republic, he had been accustomed to deference. That was when he was
Sibley Gawthrop. He was now a nameless man in dungaree trousers and
a blue shirt, in a ship bound for London with a fine fair wind. He
walked aft with the defiant yet shamed air of a man who has been at a
fancy ball and finds himself surprised by daylight.
"I want to see the captain," he said to the first man whom he met
aft. It happened to be Jones, the second "greaser."
"That's him on the poop," said Jones, staring at him; "take a good
look at him, you drunken swab. Why the blue blazes didn't you come
on board before?"
"My good fellow," said Gawthrop haughtily, "there has been a mistake.
I must be put on shore immediately."
"Oh," said Jones, "oh, indeed! There has been a fatal error, has
there? And I'm your good fellow, am I? Take that, you swine."
And what Gawthrop took caused him to sit down very suddenly on a hard
teak deck.
"What's the matter, Mr. Jones?" asked the captain, coming to the
break of the poop.
"Nothing, sir, nothing," said Jones, foaming at the mouth, "only this
ratty hoodlum isn't sober yet. I'll have him in my watch if Mr. Ladd
hasn't any fancy for him."
"Sir," said Gawthrop, still in a sitting position, "I'm not a sailor,
and have been put on board against my will. My name's
Gawthrop--Sibley Gawthrop of Menlo Park. I'm well known in San
Francisco."
"Dry up!" said Jones; "known to the police, I should say. And your
name's either Fisher or Bates. And where's that other josser? I'll
soon see if he's one of the same sort."
He shot forward, and was presently seen emerging from the foc'sle
holding the astounded Hunt by the nape of the neck. He ran him aft
and discharged him like a catapult right among the men. He fell down
alongside Gawthrop.
"Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones," said the skipper mildly. But if he was going
to remonstrate with Jones on his American methods, the two hands who
had caused the fuss put him off. For Hunt and Gawthrop, on
recognising each other, as they did now in spite of their high
colouring, lost no time in speech, but went for each other without a
word. They locked together and rolled headlong into the starboard
scuppers; for though the ship was on an even keel with a fine
northerly breeze, the deck had a big camber to it. Then Captain
Singleton lost all his mildness at this outrageous insult to his high
authority.
"Pull them apart," he roared, as Jones dived for Gawthrop's ankle,
and two of the crew got Hunt by the legs. "What the devil does this
mean?"
"It means he's had me shanghaied," said Hunt. "I know it."
"And you--oh, I'll kill you," spluttered Gawthrop.
"Send them both up here," said the captain. He stared at them like a
fury when they stood before him. No two harder looking cases ever
had an interview with a skipper, for Gawthrop was bleeding from the
nose, and Hunt had lost all his shirt but the neck-band. They glared
at each other, and Jones stood between them ready.
"Now then," said Singleton, "before I put you in irons I'd like to
know what you mean by daring----"
It was paralysing to both Gawthrop and Hunt to be looked at as the
captain looked at them. They felt like the scum of the earth.
"It's a mistake, a dreadful mistake," said Hunt; "if you will put me
ashore, I'll give you five thousand dollars."
And the eager crowd on the main-deck sniggered.
"Lord, he's very big in drink, ain't 'e?" said Tom.
The skipper frowned, and shook his fist right against Hunt's face.
"You hound, don't joke with me. What's this man's name, Mr. Jones?"
"It's either Bates or Fisher," said Jones.
"No, my name's Hunt," cried Hunt. And one of the men on deck, an
insinuating beggar who liked to curry favour with the powers, cried:
"His name's Fisher, sir. I've seed him often about the front."
"It's not, it's not," said Hunt furiously. "I'm a man well known in
San Francisco."
"Shut up!" said Jones; "the other joskin said that."
"I won't shut up," roared Hunt, quite losing his temper. "I warn you
all to put me ashore, or I'll ruin the lot of you."
"Oh," said the captain, "indeed, well, we'll see. Mr. Jones, you can
have the one there--Bates, I think. Mr. Ladd, look after this
sailorman with the five thousand dollars. Now if there's another
word comes out of either of you, or if you start fighting again and I
hear of it, I'll make the pair of you wish you'd died before you saw
me."
And Jones shoved both of them down on the main-deck. The two
unfortunates recognised that their only chance, and that the
faintest, lay in speaking together.
"But we're neither of us sailors, sir," they said piteously.