I
The _Heart of Ireland_ was spreading her wings to the north-west
trades, making a good seven knots, with the coast of California a vague
line on the horizon to port and all the blue Pacific before her.
Captain Blood was aft with his mate, Billy Harman, leaning on the rail
and watching the foam boosting away from the stern and flowing off in
creamy lines on the swirl of the wake. Ginnell, owner and captain of
the _Heart of Ireland_, shanghaied and reduced to deck hand, was
forward on the look-out, and one of the coolie crew was at the wheel.
"I'm not given to meeting trouble half-way," said Blood, shifting his
position and leaning with his left arm on the rail, "but it 'pears to
me Pat Ginnell is taking his set down a mighty sight too easy. He's
got something up his sleeve."
"So've we," replied Harman. "What can he do? He laid out to shanghai
you, and by gum, he did it. I don't say I didn't let him down crool,
playin' into his hands and pretendin' to help and gettin' Captain Mike
as a witness, but the fac' remains he got you aboard this hooker by
foul play, shanghaied you were, and then you turns the tables on him,
knocks the stuffin' out of him and turns him into a deck hand. How's
he to complain? I'd start back to 'Frisco now and dare him to come
ashore with his complaints. We've got his ship, well, that's his
fault. He's no legs to stand on, that's truth.
"Leavin' aside this little bisness, he's known as a crook from Benicia
right to San Jose. The bay stinks with him and his doin's; settin'
Chinese sturgeon lines, Captain Mike said he was, and all but nailed,
smugglin' and playin' up to the Greeks, and worse. The Bayside's
hungry to catch him an' stuff him in the penitentiary, and he hasn't no
friends. I'm no saint, I owns it, but I'm a plaster John the Baptis'
to Ginnell, and I've got friends, so have you. Well, what are you
bothering about?"
"Oh, I'm not bothering about the law," said Blood, "only about him.
I'm going to keep my eye open and not be put asleep by his quiet
ways--and I'd advise you to do the same."
"Trust me," said Harman, "and more especial when we come to longsides
with the _Yan-Shan_."
Now the _Yan-Shan_ had started in life somewhere early in the nineties
as a twelve hundred ton cargo boat in the Bullmer line; she had been
christened the _Robert Bullmer_, and her first act when the dog-shores
had been knocked away was a bull charge down the launching slip,
resulting in the bursting of a hawser, the washing over of a boat and
the drowning of two innocent spectators; her next was an attempt to
butt the Eddystone over in a fog, and, being unbreakable, she might
have succeeded only that she was going dead slow. She drifted out of
the Bullmer line on the wash of a law-suit owing to the ramming by her
of a Cape boat in Las Palmas harbour; engaged herself in the fruit
trade in the service of the Corona Capuella Syndicate, and got on to
the Swimmer rocks with a cargo of Jamaica oranges, a broken screw shaft
and a blown-off cylinder cover. The ruined cargo, salvage and tow
smashed the Syndicate, and the _Robert Bullmer_ found new occupations
till the See-Yup-See Company of Canton picked her up, and,
rechristening, used her for conveying coffins and coolies to the
American seaboard. They had sent her to Valdivia on some business, and
on the return from the southern port to 'Frisco she had, true to her
instincts and helped by a gale, run on San Juan, a scrap of an island
north of the Channel Islands of the California coast. Every soul had
been lost with the exception of two Chinese coolies, who, drifting on a
raft, had been picked up and brought to San Francisco.
She had a general cargo and twenty thousand dollars in gold coin on
board, but the coolies had declared her to be a total wreck, said, in
fact, when they had last sighted her she was going to pieces.
That was the yarn Harman heard through Clancy, with the intimation that
the wreck was not worth two dollars, let alone the expenses of a
salvage ship.
The story had eaten into Harman's mind; he knew San Juan better than
any man in 'Frisco, and he considered that a ship once ashore there
would stick; then Ginnell turned up, and the luminous idea of inducing
Ginnell to shanghai Blood so that Blood might with his, Harman's,
assistance shanghai Ginnell and use the _Heart of Ireland_ for the
picking of the _Yan-Shan's_ pocket, entered his mind.
"It's just when we come alongside the _Yan-Shan_ we may find our worst
bother," said Blood.
"Which way?" asked Harman.
"Well, they're pretty sure to send some sort of a wrecking expedition
to try and salve some of the cargo, let alone those dollars."
"See here," said Harman, "I had the news from Clancy that morning, and
it had only just come to 'Frisco, it wasn't an hour old; we put the cap
on Ginnell and were out of the Golden Gate before sundown same day. A
wrecking ship would take all of two days to get her legs under her,
supposing anyone bought the wreck, so we have two days' start; we've
been makin' seven knots and maybe a bit over, they won't make more. So
we have two days to our good when we get there."
"They may start a quick ship out on the job," said Blood.
"Well, now, there's where my knowledge comes in," said Harman.
"There's only two salvage ships at present in 'Frisco, and rotten tubs
they are. One's the _Maryland_, she's most a divin' and dredgin' ship,
ain't no good for this sort of work, sea-bottom scrapin' is all she's
good for, and little she makes at it. The other's the _Port of
Amsterdam_, owned by Gunderman. She's the ship they'd use; she's got
steam winches and derricks 'nough to discharge the Ark, and stowage
room to hold the cargo down to the last flea, but she's no good for
more than eight knots; she steams like as if she'd a drogue behind her,
because why?--she's got beam engines--she's that old, she's got beam
engines in her. I'm not denyin' there's somethin' to be said for them,
but, there you are, there's no speed in them."
"Well, beam engines or no beam engines, we'll have a pretty rough time
if she comes down and catches us within a cable's length of the
_Yan-Shan_," said Blood. "However, there's no use in fetching trouble;
let's go and have a look at the lazaret, I want to see how we stand for
grub."
Chop-stick Charlie was the name Blood had christened the coolie who
acted as steward and cabin hand. He called him now, and out of the
opium-tinctured gloom of the fo'c'sle Charlie appeared, received his
orders and led them to the lazaret.
None of the crew had shown the slightest emotion on seeing Blood take
over command of the schooner and Ginnell swabbing decks. The fight,
that had made Blood master of the _Heart of Ireland_ and Ginnell's
revolver, had occurred in the cabin and out of sight of the coolies,
but even had it been conducted in full view of them, it is doubtful
whether they would have shown any feeling or lifted a hand in the
matter.
As long as their little privileges were regarded, as long as opium
bubbled in the evening pipe, and pork, rice and potatoes were served
out, one white skipper was the same as another to them.
The overhaul of the stores took half an hour and was fairly
satisfactory, and, when they came, on deck, Blood, telling Charlie to
take Ginnell's place as lookout, called the latter down into the cabin.
"We want to have a word with you," said Blood, whilst Harman took his
seat on a bunk edge opposite him.
"It's time you knew our minds and what we intend doing with the
schooner and yourself."
"Faith," said Ginnell, "I think it is."
"I'm glad you agree. Well, when you shanghaied me on board this old
shark-boat of yours, there's little doubt as to what you intended doing
with me. Harman will tell you, for we've talked on the matter."
"He'd a' worked you crool hard, fed you crool bad, and landed you after
a six months' cruise doped or drunk, with two cents in your pocket and
an affidavit up his sleeve that you'd tried to fire his ship," said
Harman. "I know the swab."
Ginnell said nothing for a moment in answer to this soft impeachment,
he was cutting himself a chew of tobacco; then at last he spoke:
"I don't want no certifikit of character from either the pair of you,"
said he. "You've boned me ship and you've blacked me eye and you've
near stove me ribs in sittin' on me chest and houldin' me revolver in
me face; what I wants to know is your game. Where's your profits to
come from on this job?"
"I'll tell you," replied Blood. "There's a hooker called the
_Yan-Shan_ piled on the rocks down the coast and we're going to leave
our cards on her--savvy?"
"Oh, Lord!" said Ginnell.
"What's the matter now?" asked Harman.
"What's the matter, d'you say?" cried Ginnell. "Why, it's the
_Yan-Shan_ I was after meself."
Blood stared at the owner of the _Heart of Ireland_ for a moment, then
he broke into a roar of laughter.
"You don't mean to say you bought the wreck?" he asked.
"Not me," replied Ginnell. "Sure, where d'you think I'd be findin' the
money to buy wrecks with? I had news that mornin' she was lyin' there
derelick, and I was just slippin' down the coast to have a look at her
when you two spoiled me lay by takin' me ship."
It was now that Harman began to laugh.
"Well, if that don't beat all," said he. "And maybe, since you were so
keen on havin' a look at her, you've brought wreckin' tools with you in
case they might come in handy?"
"That's as may be," replied Ginnell. "What you have got to worry about
isn't wreckin' tools, but how to get rid of the boodle if it's there.
Twenty thousand dollars, that's the figure."
"So you know of the dollars?" said Blood.
"Sure, what do you take me for?" asked Ginnell. "D'you think I'd have
bothered about the job only for the dollars? What's the use of general
cargo to the like of me? Now what I'm thinkin' is this, you want a
fence to help you to get rid of the stuff. Supposin' you find it, how
are you to cart this stuff ashore and bank it? You'll be had, sure,
but not if I'm at your back. Now, gents, I'm willin' to wipe out all
differences and help in the salvin' on shares, and I'll make it easy
for you. You'll each take seven thousand and I'll take the balance,
and I won't charge nuthin' for the loan you've took of the _Heart of
Ireland_. It's a losin' game for me, but it's better than bein' done
out entirely."
Blood looked at Harman and Harman looked at Blood. Then telling
Ginnell that they would consider the matter, they went on deck to talk
it over.
There was truth in what Ginnell said. They would want help in getting
the coin ashore in safety, and unless they marooned or murdered
Ginnell, he, if left out, would always be a witness to make trouble.
Besides, though engaged on a somewhat shady business, neither Blood nor
Harman were scoundrels. Ginnell up to this had been paid out in his
own coin, the slate was clean, and it pleased neither of them to take
profit from this blackguard beyond what they considered their due.
It was just this touch of finer feeling that excluded them from the
category of rogues and made their persons worth considering and their
doings worth recounting.
"We'll give him what he asks," said Blood, when the consultation was
over, "and mind you, I don't like giving it him one little bit, not on
account of the money but because it seems to make us partners with that
swab. I tell you this, Billy Harman, I'd give half as much again if an
honest man was dealing with us in this matter instead of Pat Ginnell."
"And what honest man would deal with us?" asked the ingenuous Harman.
"Lord! one might think the job we was on was tryin' to sell a laundry.
It's safe enough, for who can say we didn't hit the wreck cruisin'
round promiscuous, but it won't hold no frills in the way of Honesty
and such. Down with you, and close the bargain with that chap and tip
him the wink that, though we're mugs enough to give him six thousand
dollars for the loan of his old shark-boat, we're men enough to put a
pistol bullet in his gizzard if he tries any games with us. Down you
go."
Blood went.