Blow The Man Down: A Romance Of The Coast

by Holman Day

  X ~ HOSPITALITY, PER JULIUS MARSTON

  Hoo--oo--rah; and up she rises! Hoo--oo--rah! and up she rises! Early in the morning. What shall we do with a saucy sailor? Put him in the long boat and make him bail 'erv Early in the morn--ing! --Old "Stamp-and-go."

  Mayo saw the sail first. It was coming in from the sea, and was very farand minute. He pointed it out with an exclamation.

  "What do you make it, sir?" asked Captain Candage. "Your eyes areyounger 'n mine are."

  "I reckon it's a fisherman bound in from Cashes Banks. He seems to belying well over, and that shows there's a good breeze outside. He oughtto reach near enough to see us, judging from the way he's heading."

  That little sail, nicked against the sky, was something else to watchand speculate on and wait for, and they forgot, almost, that they werehungry and thirsty and sun-parched.

  However, Captain Mayo kept his own gaze most steadfastly on the landwardhorizon. He did not reveal any of his thoughts, for he did not wantto raise false hopes. Nevertheless, it was firmly in his mind that nomatter what might be the sentiments of Julius Marston in regard to hisrecent skipper, the mate and engineer on board the _Olenia_ were loyalfriends who would use all their influence with the owner to urge him tocome seeking the man who had been lost.

  The fact that a motor-boat had come popping out of Saturday Cove inpursuit of the schooner suggested that Mate McGaw had suspected what hadhappened, and was not dragging the cove-bottom for a drowned man.

  Mayo had plenty of time for pondering on the matter, and he allowed hopeto spice his guesses. He knew Mate McGaw's characteristics and decidedthat the yacht would get under way early, would nose into a few near-byharbors where a gale-ridden schooner might have dodged for safety, andthen would chase down the sea, following the probable course of a craftwhich had been caught in that nor'easter. Mate McGaw was a sailorly manand understood how to fit one fact with another. He had a due portion ofmariner's imagination, and was not the sort to desert a chum, even ifhe were obliged to use stiff speech to convert an owner. Therefore, Mayopeered toward the blue shore-line, coddling hope. He wondered whetherMate McGaw would have courage to slip a word of encouragement to AlmaMarston if she asked questions.

  Mayo was elated rather than astonished when he spied a smear of drabsmoke and was able to determine that the craft which was puffing thatsmoke was heading out to sea, not crawling alongshore.

  "That's a fisherman all right, and he's bound to come clost enough tomake us out," stated Captain Candage, his steady gaze to southward.

  "But here comes another fellow who is going to beat him to us,"announced Captain Mayo, gaily.

  "And what do you make it?" asked the skipper, blinking at the distantsmoke.

  "A yacht, probably."

  "Huh? A yacht! If that's what it is they'll most likely smash rightpast. They'll think we're out here on a fishing picnic, most like.That's about all these yacht fellers know."

  The girl gave her father a frown of protest, but Mayo smiled at her.

  "I think this one is different, sir. If I am not very much mistaken,that is the yacht _Olenia_ and she is hunting me up. Mate McGaw is oneof our best little guessers."

  A quarter of an hour later he was able to assure them that the on-comingcraft was the _Olenia_.

  "Good old Mate McGaw!" he cried, rapturously. In his joy he wished hecould make them his confidants, tell them who was waiting for him onboard that yacht, make them understand what wonderful good fortune washis.

  After a time--the long time that even a fast yacht seems to consume incovering distance to effect the rescue of those who are anxious--theOlenita's whistle hooted hoarsely to assure them that they had beenseen.

  "The same to you, Mate McGaw!" choked Captain Mayo, swinging his cap inwide circles.

  "Seeing that things have come round as they have, I'm mighty glad foryou, Captain Mayo," declared Candage. "I ain't no kind of a hand toplaster a man all over with thanks--"

  "I don't want thanks, sir. We worked together to save our lives."

  "Then I'm hoping that there won't be any hard feelings one way or theother. I have lost my schooner by my blasted foolishness. So I'll saygood-by and--"

  "Good-by?" demanded Mayo, showing his astonishment. "Why are you sayinggood-by to me now?"

  "Because you are going aboard your yacht."

  "The rest of you are going there, too."

  "It ain't for poor critters like us to go mussing--"

  "Look here, Captain Candage, I am the captain of that yacht, and I saythat you are coming on board and stay until I can set you ashore at thehandiest port."

  "I'd just as lieve wait for that fisherman, sir. I'll feel more at homeaboard him."

  "You ought to think of your daughter's condition first, Captain Candage.She needs a few comforts right away, and you won't find them on board afisherman."

  He turned to the girt who sat on the keel, silent, looking away to sea.She seemed to show a strange lack of interest in the yacht. Her prettyface exhibited no emotion, but somehow she was a wistfully patheticfigure as she sat there. Mayo's countenance showed much more concernthan she expressed when she faced about at the sound of his voice andlooked at him. Color came into his cheeks; there was embarrassment inhis eyes, a queer hesitancy in his tones.

  "There is a young lady--there are several young ladies--but there is Mr.Marston's daughter!" he faltered. "She is on the yacht. I--I know shewill do all she can for you. She will be good to you!" His eyes fellunder her frank and rather quizzical gaze.

  "She might not care to be bothered with such a ragamuffin."

  "I can speak for her!" he cried, eagerly. He was now even more disturbedby the glance she gave him. He had read that women have intuition inaffairs of the heart.

  "I am quite certain you can, Captain Mayo," she assured him, demurely."And I am grateful. But perhaps we'd be better off on board that othervessel--father and the rest of us."

  "I insist," he said, but he did not dare to meet her searching eyes. "Iinsist!" he repeated, resuming the decisive manner which he had shownbefore on board the _Polly_.

  The _Olenia_, slowing down, had come close aboard, and her churningscrews pulled her to a standstill. Her crew sent a tender rattling downfrom her port davits. As she rolled on the surge her brass rails caughtthe sunlight in long flashes which fairly blinded the hollow eyes ofthe castaways. The white canvas of bridge and awnings gleamed in snowypurity. She was so near that Dolph smelled the savory scents from hergalley and began to "suffle" moisture in the corners of his mouth.

  They who waited on the barnacled hulk of the Polly, faint with hunger,bedraggled with brine, unkempt and wholly miserable after a night oftoils and vigil, felt like beggars at a palace gate as they surveyed herimmaculateness.

  A sort of insolent opulence seemed to exude from her. Mayo, her captainthough he was, felt that suggestion of insolence more keenly than hiscompanions, for he had had bitter and recent experience with the moodsof Julius Marston.

  He did not find Marston a comforting object for his gaze; thetransportation magnate was pacing the port alley with a stride that wasplainly impatient. Close beside the gangway stood Alma Marston, spotlessin white duck. Each time her father turned his back on her she put outher clasped hands toward her lover with a furtive gesture.

  Polly Candage watched this demonstration with frank interest, andoccasionally stole side-glances at the face of the man who stood besideher on the schooner's bottom; he was wholly absorbed in his scrutiny ofthe other girl.

  Mate McGaw himself was at the tiller of the tender. His honest face wasworking with emotion, and he began to talk before the oarsmen had easedthe boat against the overturned hulk.

  "I haven't closed my eyes, Captain Mayo. Stayed up all night, tryingto figure it out. Almost gave up all notion that you were aboard theschooner. You didn't hail the boat we sent out."

  "I tried to do it; perhaps you couldn't hear me."

  Captain
Candage's countenance showed gratitude and relief.

  "This morning I tried Lumbo and two other shelters, and then chasedalong the trail of the blow."

  Mayo trod carefully down the bilge and clasped the mate's hand. "I waslooking for you, Mr. McGaw. I know what kind of a chap you are."

  McGaw, still holding to the captain's hand, spoke in lower tones. "Hada devil of a time with the owner, sir. He was bound to have it that youhad deserted."

  "I was afraid he would think something of the sort."

  The mate showed frank astonishment. "You was afraid of _what?_ Why,sir, I wanted to tell him that he was a crazy man to have any such ideasabout you! Yes, sir, I came nigh telling him that! I would have done itif I hadn't wanted to keep mild and meek whilst I was arguing with himand trying to make him give me leave to search!"

  "We have had a terrible time of it, Mr. McGaw," stated Mayo, avoidingthe mate's inquisitiveness. "I am going to take these folks on board andset them ashore."

  "Ay, sir, of course."

  The two of them stood with clasped hands and held the tender close tothe wreck until the passengers embarked. When they reached the foot ofthe _Olenia_'s steps Captain Mayo sent his guests ahead of him.

  Marston paused in his march and scowled, and the folks on thequarter-deck crowded to the rail, showing great interest.

  Captain Mayo exchanged a long look with Alma Marston when he came upthe steps. Love, pity, and greeting were in his eyes. Her countenancerevealed her vivid emotions; she was overwrought, unstrung, half-crazedafter a night spent with her fears. When he came within her reachcaution was torn from her as gossamer is flicked away by a gale. Impulsehad always governed her; she gave way to it then.

  "I don't care," she sobbed. "I love you. They may as well know it!"

  Before he understood her intentions or could prevent her rashness sheflung her arms about his neck and kissed him repeatedly.

  Marston stood in his tracks like a man stricken by paralysis; his cigardropped from his open mouth. This exhibition under his very nose, withhis guests and the whole crew of his yacht looking on, fairly stunnedhim.

  "If you had died I would have died!" she wailed.

  Then her father plunged toward her, elbowing the astonished Beveridgeout of his way.

  Captain Mayo gently unhooked the arms of the frantic girl from about hisneck and stepped forward, putting himself between father and daughter.He was not taking sensible thought in the matter; he was prompted by aninstinctive impulse to protect her.

  Mayo had no word ready at his tongue's end, and Mar-ston's anathema wasmuffled and incoherent. The girl's rash act had tipped over the sane andmanly self-possession of both of them. The captain was too bewilderedto comprehend the full enormity of his action in standing guard over thedaughter of Julius Marston, as if she needed protection on her father'squarter-deck. He did not move to one side of the alley when Marstonjerked an impatient gesture.

  "I want to say that I am wholly to blame, sir," he faltered. "I hope youwill overlook--"

  "Are you presuming to discuss my daughter's insanity with me?" Henoticed that the sailors were preparing to hoist the tender to thedavits. "Drop that boat back into the water!" he shouted. There was anugly rasp in his voice, and for a moment it seemed as if he were aboutto lose control of himself. Then he set a check on his temper andtongue, though his face was deathly white and his eyes were as hard asmarbles. Resolve to end further exhibition in this incredible businessdominated his wrathful shame.

  "If you will set us ashore--" pleaded Mayo.

  "Get back into that boat, you and your gang, whatever it is!"

  "Mr. Marston, this young woman needs--"

  "Get into that boat, or I'll have the bunch of you thrown overboard!"The owner spoke in low tones, but his furious determination wasapparent.

  "We will go without being thrown, sir. Will you order us set aboard thatfisherman?" He pointed to the little schooner which was almost withinhailing distance.

  "Get off! I don't care where you go!" He crowded past Mayo, seized hisdaughter's arm, and led her aft.

  She seemed to have expended all her determination in her sensationaloutburst.

  The captain met her pleading gaze as she turned to leave. "It's for thebest," he declared, bravely. "I'll make good!"

  The pathetic castaways from the _Polly_ made a little group at thegangway, standing close to the rail, as if they feared to step upon thewhite deck. Mate McGaw intercepted Mayo as he was about to join them.

  "Hadn't I better stretch Section Two of the collision act a mite andscare him with the prospect of a thousand-dollar fine?" asked the mate,eagerly. "My glory, Captain Mayo, I'm so weak I can hardly stand up!Who'd have thought it?"

  "We'll go aboard the schooner, Mr. McGaw. It's the place for us."

  "Maybe it is, but I'll speak up if you say the word, and make him setyou ashore--even if I leave along with you?"

  "Keep your job, sir. Will you pick up my few little belongings in mystateroom and bring them to me, Mr. McGaw? I'd better stay here on deckwith my friends." He emphasized the last word, and Captain Candage gavehim a grateful look. "I'm sorry, mates! I can't say any more!" CaptainMayo did not allow himself to make further comment on the melancholysituation. The others were silent; the affair was out of theirreckoning; they had no words to fit the case. Polly Candage stoodlooking out to sea. He had hoped that she would give him a glance ofunderstanding sympathy, at least. But she did not, not even when hehelped her down the steps into the tender.

  Mate McGaw came with the captain's bag and belongings, and promptlyreceived orders from the owner from the quarter-deck.

  "Go on to the bridge and hail that schooner. Tell her we are headed forNew York and can't be bothered by these persons!"

  Mr. McGaw grasped Mayo's hand in farewell, and then he hurried to hisduty. His megaphoned message echoed over their heads while the tenderwas on its way.

  "Ay, ay, sir!" returned the fishing-skipper, with hearty bellow. "Gladto help sailors in trouble."

  "And that shows you--" blurted Captain Candage, and stopped his say inthe middle of his outburst when his daughter shoved a significant fistagainst his ribs.

  Captain Mayo turned his head once while the tender was hastening towardthe schooner. But there were no women in sight on the yacht's deck.There was an instant's flutter of white from a stateroom port, but hewas not sure whether it was a handkerchief or the end of a wind-wavedcurtain. He faced about resolutely and did not look behind again. Shame,misery, hopelessness--he did not know which emotion was stinging himmost poignantly. The oarsmen in the tender were gazing upward innocentlywhile they rowed, but he perceived that they were hiding grins. Hishumiliation in that amazing fashion would be the forecastle jest.Through him these new friends of his had been subjected to insult. Hefelt that he understood what Polly Candage's silence meant.

  The next moment he felt the pat of a little hand on the fist he wasclenching on his knee.

  "Poor boy!" she whispered. "I understand! It will come out right if youdon't lose courage."

  But she was not looking at him when he gave her a quick side-glance.

  The fisherman had come into the wind, rocking on the long swell, dingysails flapping, salt-stained sides dipping and flashing wet gleams asshe rolled. Her men were rigging a ladder over the side.

  "I want to say whilst we're here together and there's time to say it,"announced Captain Candage, "that we are one and all mighty much obligedfor that invite you gave us to come aboard the yacht, sir, and we allknow that if--well, if things had been different from what they was youwould have used us all right. And what I might say about yachts and thekind of critters that own 'em I ain't a-going to say."

  "You are improving right along, father," observed Polly Candage, dryly.

  "Still, I have my own idees on the subject. But that's neither here northere. You're a native and I'm a native, and I want ye should just lookat that face leaning over the lee rail, there, and then say that now weknow that we're among real fri
ends."

  It was a rubicund and welcoming countenance under the edge of a rustyblack oilskin sou'wester hat, and the man was manifestly the skipper.Every once in a while he flourished his arm encouragingly.

  "Hearty welcome aboard the _Reuben and Esther_," he called out when thetender swung to the foot of the ladder. "What schooner is she, there?"

  "Poor old _Polly_," stated the master, first up the ladder. In his hasteto greet the fishing-skipper he left his daughter to the care of CaptainMayo.

  "That's too bad--too bad!" clucked the fishing-skipper, full measure ofsympathy in his demeanor. "She was old, but she was able, sir!"

  "And here's another poor Polly," stated Captain Candage. "I was foolenough to take her out of a good home for a trip to sea."

  The skipper ducked salute. "Make yourself to home, miss. Go below. Houseis yours!"

  Then the schooner lurched away on her shoreward tack, and the insolentyacht marched off down across the shimmering waves.

  Mayo shook hands with the solicitous fisherman in rather dreamy andindifferent fashion. He realized that he was faint with hunger, but herefused to eat. Fatigue and grief demanded their toll in more imperiousfashion than hunger. He lay down in the sun in the lee alley, put hishead on his crossed arms, and blessed sleep blotted out his bitterthoughts.