Harrigan

by Max Brand

  CHAPTER 19

  To make good this promise, Campbell straightway sang for Harrigan'sdelectation two or three more of his favorite selections. It wasevening, and the shift in the fireroom was ended before Harrigan leftthe engineer's room. On his way to the deck he passed the tired firemenfrom the hole of the ship. They stared at the Irishman with wide eyes,for it was known that he had been in the chief engineer's room forseveral hours; they looked upon him as one who has been in hell and hasescaped from thence to the upper air.

  He was, in fact, a marked man when he reached the forecastle. Rumortravels through a ship's crew and it was already known that Black McTeehated the Irishman and that White Henshaw had commenced to persecutehim in a new and terrible manner.

  This would have been sufficient tragedy to burden the shoulders of anyone man, however strong, and when to this was added the fact that hehad been kept by the grim chief engineer for several hours in thechief's own room, and finally considering that this man had passedthrough a shipwreck, one of three lone survivors, it is easy tounderstand why the sailors gave him ample elbow room.

  It was evidently expected that he would break out into a torrent ofabuse, and when he, perceiving this, remained silent, their aweincreased. All through supper he was aware of their wondering glances;above all he felt the gray, steady eyes of Jerry Hovey, the bos'n, yethe ate without speaking, replying to their tentative questions withgrunts. Before the meal was finished and the pipes and cigaretteslighted, he was a made man. Persevering in his role, as soon as he hadeaten he went out on deck and sat down in the corner between the railand the forecastle upon a coil of rope.

  As deep as the blue sea in the evening light was the peace which lay onthe soul of Harrigan, for the day had brought two great victories, oneover McTee and the other over the chief engineer. It was not a stolidcontent, for he knew the danger of the implacable hate of McTee, butwith the aid of Campbell he felt that he would have a fighting chanceat least to survive, and that was all he asked.

  So he sat on the coil of rope leaning against the rail, and lookedahead. It was almost completely dark when a hand fell on his shoulderand he looked up into the steady, gray-blue eyes of the bos'n.

  "I promised to talk to you tonight," said that worthy, and sat downuninvited on a neighboring coil of rope.

  He waited for a response. As a rule, sailors are glad to curry favorwith the bos'n. Harrigan, however, sat without speaking, staringthrough the gloom.

  "Well?" said Hovey at length. "You're a silent man, Harrigan."

  There was no response.

  "All right; I like a silent man. In a way of speakin', I need 'em likeyou! If you say little to me, you're likely to say little to others.

  "I don't talk much myself," went on Hovey, "until I know my man. Iain't seen much of you, but I guess I figure you straight."

  He grew suddenly cautious, cunning, and the steady, gray-blue eyesreminded Harrigan of a cat when she crouches for hours watching therathole.

  "You ain't got much reason for standing in with White Henshaw?" hepurred.

  "H'm," grunted the Irishman, and waited.

  "Sure, you ain't," went on Hovey soothingly, "because McTee has raisedhell between you. They say McTee tried his damnedest to break you?"

  The last question was put in a different manner; it came suddenly likea surprise blow in the dark.

  "Well?" queried Harrigan. "What of it?"

  "He tried all the way from Honolulu?"

  "He did."

  "Did he try his fists?"

  "He did."

  Jerry Hovey cursed with excitement.

  "And?"

  "I carried him to his cabin afterward," said Harrigan truthfully.

  "Would you take on McTee again? Black McTee?"

  "If I had to. Why?"

  "Oh, nothin'. But McTee has started White Henshaw on your trail. Maybeyou know what Henshaw is? The whole South Seas know him!"

  "Well?"

  "You'll have a sweet hell of a time before this boat touches port,Harrigan."

  "I'll weather it."

  "Yes, this trip, but what about the next? If Henshaw is breakin' a man,he keeps him on the ship till the man gives in or dies. I know!Henshaw'll get so much against you that he could soak you for ten yearsin the courts by the time we touch port. Then he'll offer to let youoff from the courts if you'll ship with him again, and then the oldgame will start all over again. You may last one trip--other menhave--one or two--but no one has ever lasted out three or fourshippings under White Henshaw. It can't be done!"

  He paused to let this vital point sink home. Only the same dull silencecame in reply, and this continued taciturnity seemed to irritate Hovey.When he spoke again, his voice was cold and sharp.

  "He's got you trapped, Harrigan. You're a strong man, but you'll neverget his rope off your neck. He'll either hang you with it or else tieyou hand and foot an' make you his slave. I _know!_"

  There was a bitter emphasis on the last word that left no doubt as tohis meaning, and Harrigan understood now the light of that steady,gray-blue eye which made the habitual smile of good nature meaningless.

  "Ten years ago I shipped with White Henshaw. Ten years ago I didn'thave a crooked thought or a mean one in my brain. Today there's hellinside me, understand? Hell!" He paused, breathing hard.

  "There's others on this ship that have been through the same grind,some of them longer than me. There's others that ain't here, but thatain't forgotten, because me an' some of the rest, we seen them dyin' ontheir feet. Maybe they ain't dropped into the sea, but they're just thesame, or worse. You'll find 'em loafin' along the beaches. They takewater from the natives, they do."

  He went on in a hoarse whisper: "On this ship I've seen 'em busted. An'Henshaw has done the bustin'. This is a coffin ship, Harrigan, an'Henshaw he's the undertaker. He don't bring 'em to Davy Jones'slocker--he does worse--he brings 'em to hell on earth, a hell so badthat when they go below, they don't notice no difference. Harrigan, mean' a few of the rest, we know what's been done, an' some of us havethought wouldn't it be a sort of joke, maybe, if sometime what Henshawhas done to others was done to himself, what?"

  The sweat was standing out on Harrigan's face wet and cold. It seemedto him that through the darkness he could make out whole troops ofthose broken men littering the decks. He peered through the dark at thebos'n, and made out the hint of the gray-blue eyes watching him againas the cat watches the mousehole, and the heart of Harrigan ached.

  "Hovey, are you bound for the loincloth an' the beaches, like therest?"

  "No, because I've sold my soul to White Henshaw; but you're boundthere, Harrigan, because you can never sell your soul. I looked in youreyes and seen it written there like it was in a book."

  He gripped the Irishman by the shoulder.

  "There's some say this is the last voyage of White Henshaw, but me an'some of the rest, we know different. He can't leave the sea, whichmeans that he won't take us out of hell. Now, talk straight. You stoodup to McTee; would you stand up to Henshaw?"

  Harrigan muttered after a moment of thought: "I suppose this is mutiny,bos'n?"

  "Aye, but I'm safe in talkin' it. White Henshaw trusts me, he does,because I've sold my soul to him. If you was to go an' tell him whatI've said, he'd laugh at you an' say you was tryin' to incitediscontent. What's it goin' to be, Harrigan? Will you join me an' therest who can set you free an' make a man of you, or will you stay byMcTee and White Henshaw and that devil Campbell?"

  "How could you set me free?"

  "One move--altogether--in the night--we'd have the ship for our own,an' we could beach her and take to the shore at any place we pleased."

  Harrigan repeated: "One move--altogether--in the night! I don't likeit, bos'n. I'll stand up to my man foot to foot an' hand to hand, butfor strikin' at him in the dark--I can't do it."

  He caught the sound of Hovey's gritting teeth.

  "Think it over," persisted the bos'n. "We need you, Harrigan, but ifyou don't join, we'll help McTee and He
nshaw and Campbell to make lifehell for you."

  "I've thought it over. I don't like the game. This mutiny atnight--it's like hittin' a man who's down."

  "That's final?"

  "It is."

  "Then God help you, Harrigan, for you ain't the man I took you for."