El Diablo

by Brayton Norton

  CHAPTER VIII

  A DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

  "What do you expect me to do with a bunch of cripples like that?"

  Jack McCoy burst into the office of the Legonia Fish Cannery and hurledthe question angrily at his young employer.

  Gregory looked hard at McCoy's flushed face and snapping gray eyes. Thenhe said quietly: "I expect you to train them."

  "My God!" McCoy came a step closer. Then he burst out: "Don't you knowit's hard enough to run a cannery with real men without----"

  Gregory was on his feet in an instant.

  "Don't say it," he gritted. "Unless you want to hook up with me rightnow."

  McCoy sought to explain.

  "I'm not saying anything against them," he said. "But you don'tunderstand. I wonder if you have any idea what it means to break in abunch like that."

  "Yes. That is why I hired you. I believed you could do it. If you can't,I'll find some one else who will."

  Gregory leaned against the desk.

  "Listen, McCoy," he said. "You and I have to get down to cases rightnow. There's no use flying off the handle. If you have anything to say,I'll hear it. Anything except a word against those men out there.They've had enough already. You told me the other day," he went on, "youcould break in anybody who'd stick. You showed me just the kind of workthere is to do. These men I'll guarantee will stick and I think you'llget quite a jolt when you see what they've been taught to do. They'renot all cripples. I've got some huskies for the strong-arm stuff. Andthere is a lot the other fellows can do. I want you to show them how.You are not taking much of a chance that I can see. You'll get yourmoney the same as you always have, more if you stick through. And everydollar we make, you'll have a few cents of it at least. Can you seeanything wrong with that?"

  "I don't see where you're going to get off. You seem to think there is afortune in this business. I'll tell you there isn't. It's hard sleddingto make both ends meet as it is."

  "I know it. Last night I sat up half the night going over the books. Ifound my father lost more money on account of labor trouble than fromany other cause."

  "Except not being able to get fish," corrected McCoy.

  "Exactly. That's labor just the same. Since this idea came to me it'sgetting bigger all the time. I'm going to extend it to the boats as wellas the inside. I've got a plan to have Miss Lang take charge of thefishing end, train my men and run her boats for me on a flat rental andsalary."

  McCoy began to show more interest. "Is she in on the deal?" he asked.

  "I haven't had a chance to talk with her yet. I'm going to see herto-day."

  McCoy smiled. "I'd like to see Dick's face when you spring theproposition of having her work for you," he said.

  "Suppose she turns me down. Has that anything to do with your workingfor me?"

  McCoy's face flushed. "Don't know that it has," he admitted, "but----"

  The telephone interrupted further conversation and Gregory turned to theinstrument.

  "Yes--Mr. Gregory at the phone. All right."

  McCoy watched the silent figure as he listened to the message; saw hisjaws set tighter as he replaced the receiver and faced about.

  "I'd kind of like to talk this thing over with Blair," McCoy began. "Yousee----"

  "I just received a telegram from the sanitarium. Mr. Blair died thismorning at nine o'clock."

  McCoy crumpled in his chair and rested his head in his hands. "Poor oldJohn," he muttered brokenly, "I ought to have gone up last night whenthey phoned me he was so much worse." He raised his head and there weretears shining in his eyes. "They didn't make them any whiter than JohnBlair," he said.

  Gregory agreed.

  "I knew him only slightly," he said. "But I surely counted on him. Hisloss means a lot to me. I'll go up there right away and see if there isanything I can do. Would you like to go with me?"

  McCoy could only nod and the two men left the building together.

  The hearts of men are tested in various crucibles. In a smoothly-movingworld human paths diverge and the grooves are often widened byindifference. In times of stress, the diverse threads of commonplaceexistence may merge into a single strand. Then it is that casualacquaintances become friends, when man rubs elbow with man and heartsbeat together in mutual sympathy and understanding.

  Jack McCoy returned to Legonia saddened by the loss of an old friend;gladdened by the belief that he had found a new one. It was not whatGregory had done that made the difference to McCoy; simply the way hehad done it. Any man with money could have defrayed the expenses ofBlair's sickness and funeral. But it took a real man to make thegratuity appear as a favor to the donor.

  When he met Gregory at the cannery the morning after their return toLegonia, McCoy was not slow in admitting that he was strong for theboss.

  "If we had time, Jack," Gregory was saying, "there is nothing I'd ratherdo right now than give you a week off on full pay. But you know whatthat would mean to us at this time. Before we start in I want to makeyou another proposition."

  As the foreman said nothing, he asked bluntly: "How would you like thejob as house manager?"

  "Fine," McCoy answered. "Do you think I could cut it?"

  "Do you?"

  "Yes," McCoy answered with no hesitation.

  "All right then," Gregory answered in the same manner. "So do I. You'vegot a real job ahead of you. Minutes are going to count in the next fewdays. The next batch of my service men are due to-morrow."

  McCoy jumped up. "That means a day's work for me," he exclaimed, andhurried out.

  Gregory glanced at his watch. The next thing to be done was to seeDickie Lang. The matter of securing fish was of cardinal importance. Thegirl would be at the dock about this time. It would afford him a goodchance to make his proposal while she was getting the fish ready forshipment.

  Some time after Gregory had left the cannery, Barnes reported he was outof carborundum and McCoy set out at once for Legonia.

  "They'd be all day sending it up," he said. "I've got to go down anywayand check over some stuff for us at the freight-house so it might aswell be now."

  On nearing the Lang dock he heard Dickie's voice issuing from a pile offish-boxes at the shore end. McCoy checked his steps involuntarily atthe girl's words, and without meaning to--listened.

  "So you want to pay me a flat rate for my boats and hire me to trainyour men with my fishermen?"

  "Yes. With a share in the profits."

  It was Gregory's voice. McCoy noted the quiet tone used by the girl. Hefelt ashamed to eavesdrop. But he was torn with curiosity to hear Dick'sanswer.

  "Well, you've got your nerve, I'd say. And then some. Do you think youcan run my business better than I can myself?"

  "If I did, I'd try to buy you out. I'm asking you to run my boats aswell as your own and----"

  "Be your hired girl."

  Dickie supplied the words and went on angrily: "Say, the Lang boats werehere a long time before you came. And they'll be here as long after yougo. They have gone on their own hook ever since they went into thewater. And that's the way they are going to stay. My dad never tookorders from anybody. He ran his boats the way he pleased. He wasindependent. I'm the same way. And I want to tell you right now, Iwouldn't sell out my independence to you or any other man."

  McCoy crept back into the shadow of the fishing-boxes and making a widedetour went on into town. He was sorry he had listened. It wasn't awhite thing to do. He liked Gregory. He was his friend. Then why, heasked himself, was he kind of glad that Dick had turned down hisproposition?