CHAPTER XVII

At twelve o'clock the second assistant engineer, hurrying along the deck

to relieve the first assistant on watch, found Mr. Reardon leaning

over the rail meditatively puffing his old briar pipe. In answer to the

former's query as to what kept the chief up so late, the latter replied

that he was burning sulphur in his room to kill bedbugs.

“The good Lord forgive me the lie,” he prayed when a few minutes later

he was called upon by the first assistant, hurrying off watch, to repeat

the same tale.

The first assistant and his watch had a shower-bath and turned in. They

were not interested in the workings of the deck department in the dark;

they could not know that the vessel's course had been changed; they

thought only of getting to sleep. Mr. Reardon waited until one-thirty

A. M. to provide against possible sleepless ones, and then crept aft on

velvet feet. The _Narcissus_ had very commodious quarters in her stern,

where her coolie crew had been housed in the days when she ran in the

China trade; and when the Blue Star Navigation Company took her over

these quarters had been fitted up to accommodate the engine room crew.

In the same manner, therefore, that he had imprisoned the men of the

deck department in the forecastle, Mr. Reardon now proceeded to imprison

the men of the engine department in the sterncastle. This delicate

mission accomplished, he went up top-side and measured the diameter

of the ventilators, in order to make certain that the thinnest of his

German canaries could not fly the cage via that difficult route. Having

satisfied himself that he had no need to worry on this score, he made

his way forward again.

“Well, Michael, me poor lad,” he announced as he rejoined the skipper,

“I'll tell you wan thing--an' it isn't two. The crew av the _Narcissus_

off watch at this minute will never come on watch ag'in--in the

_Narcissus_.”

The skipper smiled wanly. “I'm sorry you must take all the risks and do

all the work, Terence,” he replied.

“Gwan wit' ye, Michael. Sure if I had a head on me like you, an' a

college edication in back av that ag'in, I'd be out playin' golf this

minute wit' Andhrew Carnegie an' Jawn D. Rockefeller--ayther that, or

I'd have been hung for walkin' away wit' the Treasury Buildin'.”

They discussed the remaining details of that portion of the ship

cleaning still before them. “Remember, Terence,” Mike Murphy warned the

chief, “when the blow-off comes at four o'clock and the uproar commences

fore and aft, we have the means to keep them quiet. I'll go forward

and you go aft. When we threaten to throw burning sulphur down the

ventilators and suffocate them, they'll sing soft and low!”

Mr. Reardon chuckled. “An' Schultz t'ought I was afther bedbugs whin

I asked the shteward for the sulphur,” he replied. “Shtill an' all,

Michael,” he added, a trifle wistfully, “I could wish for a bit more

excitement, considerin' the size av the job.”

“Don't worry, Terry, you may get it yet. I'm dizzy and weak, chief; I'm

fearful I'll not be able to last out the night--and these Germans are

desperate. Suppose we go forward now, while I'm able, and awaken Mr.

Henckel. It's high time he relieved Mr. Schultz, and he'll be waking

naturally if we let him oversleep much longer.”

The subjugation of Mr. Henckel was accomplished without the slightest

excitement or bloodshed. Mr. Reardon rapped at his door and Mr. Henckel

replied sleepily in German. The skipper and the chief merely lurked,

one on each side of his state-room door, until he stepped briskly out;

whereupon the captain jabbed him with the gun while Mr. Reardon shook

the monkey wrench under his nose. Indeed, Mr. Reardon had the gag in the

second mate's mouth even while it hung open in surprise. They bound him

hand and foot, and Mr. Reardon picked him up and tucked him gently in

his berth, for, as the chief remarked to him, he was as safe there as

anywhere and far more comfortable, although Mike Murphy objected and was

for putting him in the mate's store-room with von Staden, whom they had

put in the dirtiest and most unwholesome spot aboard the _Narcissus_,

for two reasons: In the first place, he had kicked Michael J. Murphy

and shot him through the shoulder; and in the second place, he was the

cleanest German and the most wholesome pirate they had ever seen,

and they figured the contrast would annoy him. Mr. Reardon, however,

objected to this plan. He argued that von Staden would be glad of Mr.

Henckel's company, and was it not their original intention to keep that

laddybuck von Staden in solitary confinement? It was. They closed the

state-room door on Mr. Henckel, and left him to meditate on his sins

while they repaired to the carpenter's little shop, to return to the

boat deck presently with the scantlings and cleats Mr. Reardon had

prepared.

With the scantling the chief shored up the doors to the state-room

occupied respectively at the time by the first and third assistant

engineers; then he screwed the cleats into place at top and bottom, so

the scantling could not slip. Not for worlds would he have used a hammer

to nail them into place, for that would have spoiled the surprise for

the objects of his attentions. Throughout the entire operation he was

as silent as a burglar, although by way of additional precaution the

captain stood by with drawn pistol.

“Now thin, Michael,” Mr. Reardon whispered as they pussy-footed away,

“there are six fine Germans below in the ingine room, an' two Irishmen

an' half an Englishman on deck. The Chinee cooks don't count, for sure

the poor heathens would only get excited and turrn somebody loose if

we asked them to do anything desperate. And, as ye know, wan good

Irishman--and bad luck to the man that says I am not that--can keep a

hundhred Germans from comin' up out av that ingine room. Go to yer bed,

Michael, an' lie down until I call ye.”

“Better take this automatic,” Murphy suggested, and showed him how to

use it.

But Mr. Reardon resolutely refused to abandon his monkey wrench,

although he consented to carry the automatic to Riggins in the

pilot-house. The estimable Riggins had been steering a somewhat erratic

course, for he found it impossible to keep his eye on the lubber's mark

while the bound quartermaster glared balefully at him from the floor.

Indeed Riggins had been pondering his fate should that husky Teuton ever

get the upper hand again; hence, when he found himself in a state of

preparedness and was informed that he must stick by the wheel until

relieved, the prospect did not awe him in the least. The present odds

were counterbalanced by the strategic position held by the minority, and

Riggins was content.

On his way back to his state-room, there to rest until the final call

to arms, Michael J. Murphy concluded it would be well to search the

quarters of the second mate and Herr von Staden for contraband of war.

So he did, with the result that he unearthed in von Staden's room the

rifle and revolver which belonged to the _Narcissus_, and under the

second mate's pillow he found another automatic pistol. He confiscated

all three weapons by right of discovery, and hid the rifle in the

galley, the last place anybody would think of looking for it.

In the meantime Mr. Reardon proceeded further to strengthen his position

by closing the port entrance to the engine room and shoring up the door

with a stout scantling, cleated at top and bottom to hold it securely in

place. Then he donned Mr. Schultz's heavy watchcoat, dragged round

from the lee of the house the upholstered easy-chair Mrs. Reardon had

insisted upon his taking to sea with him for use in his leisure moments,

placed this chair on deck just outside the starboard entrance to the

engine room, loaded his pipe, laid his trusty monkey wrench across his

knee and gave himself up to the contemplation of this riot we call life.

He resembled a cat watching beside a gopher hole. By half-past three

o'clock he had finished figuring out approximately the amount of

money Mrs. Reardon would have in the Hibernia Bank at the end of five

years--figuring on a monthly saving of fifty dollars and interest

compounded at the rate of four per cent. So, having satisfied himself

that Johnny would yet be a lawyer and the girls learn to play the piano,

Mr. Reardon heaved a sigh and reluctantly went to call Michael J. Murphy

for the final accounting.

Cappy Ricks Retires: But That Doesn't Keep Him from Coming Back Stronger Than Ever · 第 17 / 61 章