El Diablo

by Brayton Norton

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE STRIKE

  A strike at this of all times! And Pete Carlin at the bottom of it! Withher nerves frayed raw by two nights of sleepless vigil and the memory ofthe _Curlew's_ disabled motor rankling within her, Dickie Lang brushedby a group of men and confronted a bullet-headed man in a loose graysweater.

  "Carlin," she said clearly in a voice which all could hear, "you'refired. You're a crook. If you'd work the clock around I wouldn't haveyou on the job."

  Turning to the fishermen she rapidly related the incident of the findingof the emery-dust in the _Curlew's_ motor.

  "It's a lie," Carlin interrupted, "I don't----"

  "It's the truth, Pete Carlin, and you know it."

  Dickie moved closer to Carlin and her eyes met his. "You can't look mein the eye and deny it," she challenged. As the man said nothing, sheflashed: "Get off my dock while you're still able to walk. If I was aman I'd knock you down."

  The man grinned but did not move.

  "But you ain't," he retorted. "I reckon I ain't goin' to have no foolgirl tell me where to head in at. I reckon I----"

  A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and his sentence remained unfinished.Gregory's eyes were snapping close to Carlin's.

  "Beat it," he said, "while the trail's open."

  Carlin flashed a glance over his shoulder at the fishermen who stoodlooking on in stoical silence. Then he decided to go. Mumbling tohimself, he turned sullenly from the men about him and walked slowlydown the dock.

  Dickie Lang faced the silent fishermen.

  "Now, boys, what is it? I'll hear what you've got to say. But I won'thave any dealings with a crook."

  The men about her shuffled their feet and drew closer. Then a man in afaded plaid jumper detached himself from the others and began to speak.

  "We ain't got nothin' against you, Miss Lang," he began uncertainly."But we've all got to look out for ourselves. We got families and folksdependin' on us. Livin' 's out of sight. So is clothes and everything.We----"

  "What's your proposition, Blagg?"

  The fisherman hesitated at the directness of the question. Then herecited: "Straight time. Eight-hour day for six dollars. Double moneyfor overtime and Sundays."

  Dickie started at the demand. Carlin had done his work well to set sucha limit as that. She wondered how far the seeds of discontent hadspread among the others. As her eye traveled over the silent groups,Blagg went on:

  "You see, miss, as I say we got families and the women-folks----"

  "Don't blame the women, Joe," interrupted the girl. "If they got half ofwhat the saloons leave they'd have no kick coming. I'll bet they're notback of this. You've been listening to a half-baked fool who couldn'tmake a living if dollars grew on trees. All Pete Carlin can do is talk.You boys know he isn't a fisherman."

  She stepped closer and her voice dropped to a conversational tone. "Itjust isn't in the business, boys. If I promised to pay those wages Icouldn't do it. I'd be broke with the first run of bad luck and you knowit as well as I do, if you'd stop to think. The man doesn't live who canpay that around here and get out."

  Blagg smiled knowingly at the fishermen.

  "You're wrong, miss," he said. "We've already got the offer for a job atthem terms."

  "Not here?"

  He nodded. "Right here in town. We won't have to move nor nothin'."Watching the effect of his words upon the girl, he went on, carried awayby the importance of his announcement. "That's why we're puttin' it upto you. You've always shot pretty square with us. But money talks, andwe all got to look out for Number One. I reckon none of the boys ishonein' to go to work for a furrinor, but we all knows his money's goodas yours and that's what counts."

  "You mean you're going to ditch me for Mascola?"

  Blagg dropped his eyes to the planks of the wharf before the girl'ssteady gaze.

  "We don't aim to ditch nobody," he said awkwardly. "But we got to live.The dago's offered us six day straight with double for overtime andSundays. We ain't decided yet. We waited to give you a chance."

  Dickie Lang listened quietly, her eyes roaming among the knots of silentfishermen. Some she noticed stood close and as their spokesman went on,shuffled closer. Others held aloof. When Blagg had concluded, she beganto speak in a voice which carried to the detached groups of men standingin the back row.

  "I'm not going to say much. But what I do say I want it to sink in. Comeup closer all of you where we can see one another."

  When the fishermen ranged themselves about her, she looked hard intotheir weather-beaten faces and went on earnestly: "Boys, you've known mesince I was a kid. Most of you knew my dad. If you did, you knew a man.He had to fight hard for a living. But he shot square every foot of theway. Some of you were here when he came."

  She singled out a few of the older men and spoke directly to them: "Doyou think you'd be here now if it hadn't been for Bill Lang? What werethe Russians and Austrians doing to you when he came? You were all downon your uppers and didn't know where your next meal was coming from. Whowas it that took up your fight? Who backed you with boats and gear andtaught you how to fish so you could hold your own against the outsiders?You know without my telling you."

  Some of the older fishermen dropped their eyes to the rough board planksat the girl's words. There was no doubt that Lang had been square. Butas Blagg had pointed out, a man had to look out for himself.

  "You think that hasn't anything to do with your quitting me to get moremoney? All right. I'll show you that it has. Let me ask you somequestions. What is Mascola paying his own fishermen? Why should he payyou fellows twice that much? Does he think you'll rob more traps, layround more nets and run more men off the beach with his seine? Whyshould he pay you six dollars when he can load up with a gang that'll dowhat he says for three? Is that business?"

  She paused and her lips compressed in a straight line as she went on:"You can answer those questions just as well as I can. You know whatMascola's game is. He thinks he's going to put me out of business. He'strying to crowd me off the sea. What do you suppose will become of youif he makes good? How long will you get that six dollars a day with theLang fleet out of commission? You've been fighting his men for a squaredeal ever since you came here. And now you're figuring on helping themrun you out of your own town."

  Blagg noticed that several of the men were falling back and whisperingamong themselves. Scenting signs of a break among his ranks, he felt itwas up to him to say something. Well, he had his trump card yet to play.

  "We ain't such fools as you think," he said. "We ain't gone at thisthing without considering pretty careful and gettin' good advice. Lastnight some of us had a meetin' and talked things over. Mr. Rock wasthere and he give us some mighty good advice. He says to the boys thatit was every feller for himself and----"

  "Rock's got a mortgage on your house, hasn't he, Joe?"

  Blagg flushed beneath his tan.

  "I reckon that ain't got nothing to do with it if he has," hechallenged. "And you understand I ain't even sayin' he has. But he's abusiness man."

  "And a hypocrite," supplemented Dickie Lang. "Nobody knows that anybetter than I. He lied to me and tried to flim-flam me out of my boatsbefore my dad was buried a week. If I'd fallen for it he would have hadme right where he's got you, Joe. But I didn't. And when he found out Iwas going to stick to you boys, he called me a fool and said no whiteman could compete against Mascola's men."

  As she paused for breath, Gregory saw Tom Howard hobbling through thecrowd, speaking in low tones with the fishermen.

  "One minute more and I'm through," the girl concluded. "We're up againsta hard fight here at Legonia. A fight for Americans to fish their ownwaters. Sounds foolish, but you know it's the truth. When my father andMr. Gregory were drowned off Diablo, Mascola thought he had us beaten.Rock thought so, too. But I'm telling you we're going to fool them both.There's something wrong around here, boys, when we can't get afifty-fifty break on our own coast. And we're going to find out what itis."

/>   Seeing that she had the ear of the men at last, she walked closer.

  "Listen, boys, I've got a big proposition to offer you. One that willbeat Mascola's like an ace beats a deuce. Because this one is on thesquare."

  The fishermen crowded closer while she went on:

  "You know what we've been up against here for years to get good help.You boys have been working short-handed most of the time. Doing morework than it was up to you to do. I've got a plan now to get all the menyou want. Good men too. Fellows who have been tried out, red-bloodedmen. Fighters! I want you men to train them. Show them how to fish. In alittle while they'll be doing all the work and I'll pay you four dollarsa day straight time with a dollar a day more if you stick through theseason. But better than that I'll give you a share in the profits ofnot only my own business, but the Legonia Fish Cannery as well."

  Gregory gulped. It was Dickie's voice all right. But the words were hisown. There was some mistake somewhere. He strove to regain control ofhis scattered senses as Blagg burst out:

  "You're figurin' to start somethin' you can't finish, ain't you? Youain't bought the cannery already, have you?"

  "Don't you worry about that, Blagg. I know what I'm talking about. Mr.Gregory and I are partners on this deal."

  Blagg was taken back by the girl's announcement. Almost as much so asGregory himself.

  "Suppose there ain't no profits?" put in another fisherman.

  "That's your lookout as well as mine." Again the girl took Gregory'swords and went on: "But there will be. I'm going to get a bunch ofex-navy men down here that mean business. They won't let Mascola, Rockor anybody else bluff them off the sea. All they want is a chance tolearn the game. You boys can teach it to them right."

  Blagg stepped back and began to whisper to the men about him. The otherfishermen looked at one another and listened for Bill Lang's girl to goon:

  "You fellows all know the advantage it gives you to have enough boatsand men. If you break down and get into any trouble, it's pretty good tohave somebody standing by to give you a hand. And you know that Mascolaknows how to make trouble."

  Turning to the older men, some of whom had already begun to feel theirjoints stiffening with rheumatism, she said: "Fishing's a hard game,boys, for the best of us. And it doesn't get any easier as we get older.There's a lot of you who will have to go into dry-dock before long andget patched up. And there's some that can't afford to lay up. You'vebeen working with your hands too long. You've got to ease up and useyour brains. That's what I want to hire now. These young fellows areeager to help you. It will be up to you to show them what to do."

  Could this be the girl who had angrily announced that she intended torun her business in her own way? Gregory could only stare at DickieLang. So far, she had not even included him as being a partner to theidea, save by her pledge of the profits of his cannery. Surely she wouldexplain her sudden change of heart. Listening intently, he heard herconclude:

  "Think it over, boys. It's a chance that may never come again. If thereare any questions you'd like to ask, shoot."

  Blagg noted that her words were having a marked effect upon the silentfishermen. Seeking to stem the tide of the reaction which he felt wassetting in against him, he began to make objections.

  Dickie Lang met his arguments with painstaking explanations and theobjections gradually became fewer, simmering down into more or lessintelligent questions. Gregory noticed that the fishermen began toretire and clustered together in little groups while they talkedearnestly among themselves. Still there came no explanation from thegirl. She was championing his ideas as if they had been her owncherished plans.

  At length the various knots of men drew further apart and faced eachother in two well-marked divisions. To the left stood Joe Blagg, abouthim clustering the younger and more radical element of the fishingcolony. On the right the property-owners and heads of families for themost part, drew closer to Big Jack Stuss, their acknowledged leader.

  Dickie Lang regarded the two factions carefully, striving to count theirranks. Each was about evenly divided, she figured, with Big Jack'sconstituency slightly in the lead.

  Blagg stepped forward and began to speak: "It's six straight for me andmine," he said. "Them's our terms. The boys can't see your new-fangledproposition at all."

  "It's up to you," the girl replied coolly. "If that's the way you feel,you can get your money. But before you do, I'd advise you to talk itover at home. Don't forget that I'm fighting for you--not against you.It might be pretty nice to remember some time that you tried to helpyourselves. Think it over before you get your checks."

  As she finished speaking, Big Jack got slowly under way. Elbowing a paththrough the crowd he shuffled closer, hitching at the strainingsuspender to which was entrusted the task of holding in place his twopairs of baggy canvas trousers. Shifting from one bowed knee to theother, he contemplated his great bare toes in silence while he drew in adeep breath which filled his huge lungs to the bursting point and causedthe muscles of his neck to stand out in purpled knots.

  Dickie waited, knowing full well that it was Big Jack's invariablepreface for speech. When the big fisherman had secured enoughcompression to proceed, he boomed forth in a fog-horn voice:

  "Me and my fellers has decided to stick. Youse fellers can count on usif you shoot square. We's willin' to take a chanct."

  "Me and my fellers has decided to stick"]

  His sentences were interpolated with great gusts of surplus breath. Ashe finished speaking he lumbered away to rejoin his companions.

  "That's the stuff, boys. It's the way I like to hear men talk. It showsyou've got the sand. Take it from me, you'll never be sorry you stuck."

  She walked forward and passed familiarly among them while the Blaggfaction melted slowly away and straggled down the dock in the directionof the town.

  Gregory stood with McCoy while the excitement quieted down and Dickiedespatched the fishing-boats on their accustomed morning cruise.

  "Well, I'll say you've done wonders," McCoy was saying. "Who would everhave thought that Dick would have given in?"

  Gregory nodded weakly. "I was rather surprised myself," he admitted.

  McCoy looked at his watch. "I must go," he said. "It's almost time toblow the whistle. Coming up soon?"

  Gregory promised to be on hand as soon as he got his breakfast and McCoyhurried off. When the last of her remaining men had left the dock,Gregory noticed the girl coming toward him. Now he would learn thereason for her sudden change of mind. He listened eagerly for theexplanation.

  Dickie Lang passed a slim brown hand slowly over her forehead andreplaced a tousled lock of red-brown hair.

  "Now," she said calmly, "when can you get me my men?"