The Web of the Golden Spider

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The Web of the Golden Spider Page 14

by Frederick Orin Bartlett


  CHAPTER XIII

  _Of Powder and Bullets_

  Day after day of the long voyage passed without incident. Danbury andWilson in the close relationship necessary aboard ship grew to be warmfriends. And yet the latter still remained silent concerning that partof his quest relating to the hidden treasure. This was not so much dueto any remaining suspicion of Danbury as to the fact that the latterseemed so occupied with his own interests. In fact, he was tempted farmore to confide in Stubbs. The latter would be an ideal partner onsuch a search. As the days passed he became more and more convincedthat it would be to his advantage to enlist the services of Stubbseven upon as big a basis as share and share alike.

  Danbury trod the decks each day with a light step, and at nightrelieved his buoyant heart of its dreams to Wilson and of its plans toStubbs. The latter had spoken once or twice of the necessity offinding something for the men below to do, but Danbury had waved asidethe suggestion with a good-natured "Let 'em loaf." But finally theirgrumblings and complainings grew so loud that Stubbs was forced totake some notice of it, and so, upon his own responsibility, had themup on deck where he put them through a form of drill. But theyrebelled at this and at last reached a condition which threatened tobecome serious.

  "We've jus' got to find something for them to do," Stubbs informedhim.

  "They ought certainly to be kept in trim. Don't want them to getflabby."

  "'Nother thing, they are livin' too high," said Stubbs. "Salt pork andhardtack is what they needs,--not beefsteak."

  "Nonsense, Stubbs. This isn't a slave-ship. Nothing like good fodderto keep 'em in trim. They are getting just what you get at a trainingtable, and I know what that does,--keeps you fit as a king."

  "Mebbe so. I'll tell you what it'ull do for them,--it'll inspire 'emto cut our bonny throats some day. The ale alone 'ud do it. Think ofservin' ale to sech as them with nothin' to do but sit in the sun.Darned if they ain't gettin' to look as chubby as them babies you seein the advertisements. An' their tempers is growin' likewise."

  "Good fightin' spirit, eh?"

  "Yes," drawled Stubbs, "an' a hell of a bad thing to have on the highseas."

  "Well," said Danbury, after a moment's thought, "you have them up ondeck to-morrow and I'll have a talk with them."

  It was Danbury's first opportunity to look over his mercenaries as awhole and he gave a gasp of surprise at the row after row ofvillainous faces raised with sneering grins to his. Well in the frontsquatted "Bum" Jocelin, known to the water-front police for fifteenyears,--six feet of threatening insolence; "Black" Morrison with twopenitentiary sentences back of him; and "Splinter" Mallory, thin,leering, shifty. And yet Danbury, after he had recovered himself abit, saw in their very ugliness the fighting spirit of the bulldog. Hehad not hired them for ornament but for the very lawlessness which ledthem rather to fight for what they wished than to work for it.Doubtless below their flannel shirts they all had hearts which beatwarmly. So he met their gaze frankly and, raising one foot to acapstan, he bent forward with a smile and began. Stubbs stood by withthe strained expression of a father who stands helpless watching a sondo a foolish thing. On the other hand, Wilson, though he would nothave done it himself, rather admired the spirit that prompted theact.

  "Men," began Danbury,--and Stubbs choked back an exclamation at hisgentleness,--"men, I haven't told you much about the errand upon whichyou are bound, but I feel now that you ought to know. You signed fortwo months and agreed to accept your orders from me. You were toldthere would be some scrapping----"

  "The hell we were," broke in Splinter. Danbury, ignoring theinterruption, blandly continued:

  "And you were all picked out as men who wouldn't balk at a bit of amix-up. But you weren't told what it is all about.

  "Well, then, this is the game: down there in Carlina where we aregoing there is a one-horse republic where they used to have a dinkylittle kingdom. A republic is all right when it's an honest republic,but this one isn't. It was stolen, and stolen from the finest woman inthe world. I'm going to give you all a chance to see her some day, andI know you'll throw up your hats then and say the game is worth it, ifyou don't before."

  Their faces were as stolid as though they could not understand a wordof what he was saying. But he had lost sight of them and saw only theeyes of the girl of whom he was speaking.

  "Once, when she was a little girl, they put her in prison. And itwasn't a man's prison either, but a mangy, low-down, dog kennel. Thinkof it! Put her down there in the dark among the rats. But that was toomuch for the decent ones of even that crowd, and they had to let hergo. So now she lives in a little house in her kingdom, like a beggaroutside her own door."

  Danbury had worked himself up to a fever pitch. His words camehoarsely and he stepped nearer in his excitement. But as he pausedonce more, he realized that he was facing a pack of dummies. For amoment he stared at them in amazement. Then he burst out,

  "Are you with us, men? Haven't we something worth fighting for--somethingworth fighting hard for?"

  He heard a rough guffaw from a few men in the rear; then a voice:

  "It's the dough we're out fer--no damned princess."

  Danbury whitened. He leaped forward as though to throw himself intothe midst of them all, and reached for the throat of the man who hadspoken. But Stubbs who had been watching, drew his revolver, andfollowed close behind. With the aid of Wilson he separated the two anddrew off Danbury, while keeping the others at bay.

  "Go below," he commanded. "Let me talk to 'em a minute."

  "But--but the damned jellyfish--the----"

  Wilson seized his arm and managed to drag him away and down to hiscabin. Then Stubbs, with feet wide apart, faced the gang. His voicewas low, but they did not miss a word.

  "Th' cap'n," he began, "has talked to ye as though ye was white men'cause he's young and clean an' doesn't know the likes of ye. Hehain't had so much to do with a bunch of white-livered, swill-tub jailbirds as I have. But don't you go further an' make th' mistake thet'cause he's young he ain't a man yet. 'Cause if ye do, ye'll wake upsudden with a jolt. Even if he did mistake a pack of yaller dogs fermen, don't ye think he doesn't know how to handle yaller dogs. But Is'pose ye are jus' as good to shoot at as better. Now I gut ye aboardthis craft--me, Stubbs," he pointed to his breast with a thickforefinger, "an' ye're goneter earn yer grub afore ye're done."

  "Shanghaied--we was shanghaied," ventured Splinter.

  "You was, was ye? D' ye think ye could make anyone b'lieve a man inhis sober senses would shanghai the likes of you? But howsomeverthat may be, here you is and here you stays till ye git ashore.Then you has yer chi'ce er gittin' shot in front er gittin' shotbehind,--gittin' shot like white men er gittin' shot like niggers.'Cause I tells you right now thet in all the shootin', I'll behangin' round where I can spot the first man who goes the wrong way.An'," he drew his weapon from his pocket, "I can shoot."

  He placed a bullet within two inches of the hand of a man who wasleaning against the rail. The group huddled more closely together likefrightened sheep.

  "Now," he concluded, "ye're goneter git more exercise an' less grubarter this. Tuck it away fer future ref'rence thet th' next time yercap'n talks to yer ye'd better show a little life. Now, jus' ter proveye appreciate what he said, cheer. An' cheer good, ye dogs."

  They let out a howl.

  "Now back to yer kennels!"

  They slunk away, crowding one another in their effort to get from therange of the weapon which Stubbs still carelessly held pointed attheir heels.

  It was several days after this that Wilson was pacing the deck aloneone night rather later than usual. The sky was filled with big,top-heavy clouds which rolled across the purple, blotting out everynow and then the half moon which sprinkled the sea with silverbutterflies. The yacht quivered as though straining every timber, butit looked to Wilson a hopeless task ever to run out from under thedark cup and unchanging circumference. It seemed as though one mightgo on this path through eternity with the silver butterfl
ies everfluttering ahead into the boundless dark.

  He lounged up to Martin at the wheel. The latter, a sturdy, somewhatreserved man, appeared glad to see him and showed evidence of beingdisturbed about something. He frequently glanced up from the lightedcompass before the wheel as though on the point of speaking, butturned back to his task each time, reconsidering his impulse. Finallyhe cleared his throat and remarked with a fine show of indifference,"Everything been all quiet below, to-day?"

  "So far as I know."

  "Been down there lately?"

  "No; but the men seemed this morning in unusually good form. Morecheerful than they've been at all."

  "So?"

  For a few moments he appeared engrossed in his work, turning thecreaking wheel to the right, the left, and finally steadying it on itstrue course. Wilson waited. The man had said enough to excite hisinterest and he knew the best way to induce him to talk more freelywas to keep silent.

  "Happened to go for'ard afore my shift to-night an' I heard some of'em talkin'. Didn't sound to me like th' sorter talk that's goodaboard ship."

  "So? What were they saying?"

  "Nothin' much," he answered, frightened back into stubborn silence.

  "They talk pretty free at all times," returned Wilson. "They haven'tlearned much about ship discipline."

  "I hopes they don't act as free as they talk."

  "No fear of that, I guess."

  Another long silence. Then Martin asked:

  "Where's the ammunition stowed?"

  "We had it moved the other day to the vacant cabins just beyond ourquarters."

  "All of it?"

  "Every cartridge. Why do you ask that, Martin?"

  "I happened to go for'ard afore my shift," he repeated.

  Wilson arose and stepped to his side.

  "See here, if you heard anything unusual, I'd like to know it before Iturn in."

  "My business is a-workin' of this wheel, an' what I says is we've guta damned bad cargo."

  Wilson smiled. After all, it was probably only the constitutionaljealousy that always exists between a seaman and a landsman.

  "All right, Martin, only we're all in the same kettle. Keep your earsopen, and if you hear anything definite let me know."

  "Then I says I puts my chest agin my door afore I sleeps an' I watchesout for shadows when I'm at the wheel."

  "And have you seen any to-night?"

  "No, an' I hopes I won't."

  "All right. Good night."

  "Good night, sir."

  Wilson stepped out of the pilot-house and made a short round of theship. He even ventured down to the forward hold, but all was as quietthere as ever. He turned towards his own cabin. Danbury's light wasout. Beyond he saw the form of the first mate who had been postedthere to guard the ammunition. He spoke to him and received a cordialreply.

  "All quiet?"

  "All quiet, sir."

  The door of Stubbs' cabin was closed, and he heard within his heavysnoring. He entered his own cabin and closed the door. But he feltuneasy and restless. Instead of undressing he threw himself down onthe bunk, after placing his pistol underneath his pillow. Martin'stalk had been just suggestive enough to start his brain to working,disturbed as he was by so many other things. He had an impulse torouse Stubbs. He wanted someone with whom to talk. He would also havebeen more comfortable if he had been able to make sure that those bitsof parchment were still safe in his comrade's chest, where he hadlocked them. If the crew once got even a suspicion that there was onboard such a golden chance as these offered, it would be a temptationdifficult for even better men to resist. He realized that if they wereable sufficiently to surrender each his own selfish individualdesires and organize compactly under a single leader, they would forman almost irresistible force. But of course the key to the wholesituation lay in the ammunition. Without this they were helpless.Knives and clubs could not resist powder and bullet. He became drowsyfinally and his thoughts wandered once more to the treasure and thento Jo until his eyes closed and, though his lips still remained tense,he slept.

  He was awakened by the sound of a muffled fall in the next cabin. Hesprang to his feet, seizing his weapon. The electric light wire hadbeen cut so that the cabin was in suffocating darkness. By someinstinct he forced himself flat against the wall by the door. The nextsecond the door was flung open and two forms hurled themselves with agrunt upon the bunk. He fired twice and darted out into thepassageway. Here all was confusion, but all was dark. Man fell againstman with oaths and wild threshing of the arms, but they all knew oneanother for friends. He was for the moment safe. The doors to thecabins of Stubbs and Danbury were wide open. He knew that either theyhad escaped by some such miracle as his, or that they were beyondhelp. It seemed to him that there was but one thing to do, make thedeck and collect whatever honest men were left. The mutineers werestill fighting with one another and had grown so panic-stricken thatthey were making little progress towards their goal. Quick actionmight even now save the ship. He heard a voice raised in a vainendeavor to control them.

  "Steady, boys, steady! Wait till we get a light."

  At the head of the stairs leading to the deck he found a sentinel. Hestruck at him and then grappled. The two rolled on the deck, but thestruggle was brief. Wilson soon had him pinned to the deck. He raisedthe fellow's head and threw him with all his strength backwards. Theman lay very still after this.

  When he rose to his feet the deck was as deserted as though nothing atall unusual were going on below. He rushed to the pilot-house. Theship swerved tipsily and then the engines ceased their throbbing.Martin lay limply over his wheel. The cutthroats had got below to theengines.

  For a moment his head whirled with twenty impossible plans. Then hesteadied himself. There was but one thing to do; the gang wasevidently so far in control of the ship as to prevent aid from thecrew; Danbury and Stubbs were doubtless unconscious, if not dead, andhe was left, the one man still free to act. Once the rifles wereloaded a hundred men could not control this crowd, but beforethen--one man with a loaded weapon and with his wits about him, mightmake himself master.

  He groped his way down the stairs and into the midst of the tumult. Noone had as yet obtained a light. The leader had succeeded in partlycontrolling his gang, but one man had only to brush the shoulder ofanother to start a fight. David elbowed through them, striking rightand left in the endeavor to stir up anew the panic. He succeededinstantly. In two minutes pandemonium reigned. Then a man scrambledin with a lantern and was greeted with a cheer. Wilson turned, shottwice, and ducked. The cabin was once more in darkness and confusion.

  "Wha' th' hell?" roared Splinter.

  Wilson plunged on until he stood facing the door which still barredthe way to the cartridges. It was intact. At this point someonereached his side with an axe. Snatching it from the fellow's hand hehimself swung it against the lock. He had two things in mind; the actwould turn away suspicion, and once within the small room, with hisback to the cartridges, he could take the men one by one as theypressed through the narrow door. He had on his cartridge belt andought to be able, not only to keep them at bay until possible aidarrived from the crew's quarters, but might even be able to startsufficient panic to drive them out altogether. Wilson swung a coupleof times until the lock weakened. Splinter shouted:

  "Fer Gawd's sake, don't act like frightened rats! Keep cool now an' wehave 'em."

  One more blow and the door fell. With a jump Wilson scrambled in and,turning, fired four times in rapid succession. In the pause whichensued he refilled his weapon. There was a chorus of ugly growls and aconcerted movement towards the door. He shot again, aiming low andrelying as much on the flash and noise to frighten them as on actualkilling. To those without it sounded as though there might be severalmen. No one knew but what the man next to him had turned traitor. Theygroped for one another's throats and finally, as though by oneimpulse, crowded for the exit. They fought and pounded and kicked ateach other. It was every man for himself and the Devil take thehind
most. Wilson helped them along by continued shooting--aiming highand low. In five minutes the cabin was cleared save for the wounded,who managed, however, to drag themselves out of sight.

  As Wilson fell back exhausted and half choked from the smoke withwhich the room was filled, he heard the bark of pistols above and knewthat the crew had reached the deck. He waited only long enough torecover strength to walk, and then moved cautiously forward. He wasundisturbed. The mutineers had gone, to the last man able to stand. Hegroped his way to Danbury's cabin and his hand fell upon a limp formin the bunk. But even as he recoiled the man moved and muttered feeblequeries.

  "Are you safe, Danbury?" gasped Wilson.

  "What--what's the trouble? Give me a drink--brandy."

  Wilson turned to the wine closet just beyond the bunk and drew out thefirst bottle his fingers touched. He placed it to Danbury's lips, andthe latter took several deep swallows of it, spitting indignantly ashe thrust it away.

  "Darned stuff--Martini cocktails. But--but----"

  Wilson found himself laughing. Nothing Danbury could have said wouldso prove the inconsequence of his injuries. It relieved his strainednerves until, in reaction, he became almost hysterical.

  "What's the joke?" demanded Danbury, rising to a sitting posture andfeeling at the cut in the back of his head. "Where's the lights? Whathas happened?"

  "A bit of a fight. Can you make your feet?"

  Danbury groped for the side of the bunk, and with the help of Wilsonstood up. He was at first dizzy, but he soon came to himself.

  "If you can walk, come on. I want to look for Stubbs."

  Wilson groped his way into the smoke-filled passageway and across tothe other cabin. They found Stubbs lying on the floor unconscious. Asuperficial examination revealed no serious wound and so, urged on bythe increasing noise above, they left him and hurried to the deck.They found the second mate pushing the stubborn group nearer andnearer their own quarters. He was backed by only two men armed withknives and clubs. The gang was hesitating, evidently tempted to turnupon the tiny group, but with the appearance of Wilson and Danburythey pressed at once for the narrow opening.

  At sight of them Danbury completely lost his head. It was as though hethen first realized what had actually been attempted. He raised hisweapon and was upon the point of shooting into their midst when Wilsonknocked up his hand and sent the revolver spinning across the deck.But Danbury scarcely looked around to see who had foiled him. Herushed headlong into the group as though he were the center of afootball team. He struck right and left with his naked fists andfinally by chance fell upon Splinter. The two rolled upon the deckuntil the mate stooped and picked up Splinter bodily and, raising himabove his head, fairly hurled him like a bag of grain down the ladderafter the last of the mutineers.

  Danbury, in spite of his loss of blood, held himself togetherwonderfully. For the next hour all were busy, and between them placedSplinter in irons, and crowded the mutineers, a cowed lot, into theforward hold. They found Stubbs still unconscious, but he came aroundafter a good swig of brandy. He rose to his elbow and blinked dazedlyat Danbury.

  "What's the trouble?" he demanded.

  "Mutiny," answered Danbury, briefly.

  "And me laid up, an' outer it. Jus' my pizen luck," he growled.

 

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