Blow The Man Down: A Romance Of The Coast
to save himself. I have lived among men who are bold in going after what
they want.”
“I have had a little experience with that kind of land pirates, and I
don't like the system.”
“I shall not make any unnecessary sacrifices,” she de-clared, tartly,
but there were tears in her eyes. “I did what I could to help you when
you were trying to save me. Why are you so ungenerous as to refuse to
help me now?”
“It's taking advantage of you--of your position.”
“But I offer it--I beg of you to do it.”
“I will not do it.”
“You absolutely refuse?”
“Yes, Miss Marston.”
“Then I shall leave you to your own fate, Captain Mayo. You don't expect
me to go to my father with the story, do you?”
“Certainly not'.”
“I shall go ahead now and protect myself the best I can. I am sure that
Captain Downs will keep my secret. I shall forget that I ever sailed on
that schooner. I suppose you will black yourself up and run away again!”
“I am going to New York.”
“To be put in jail?”
“Probably.”
“You make me very angry. After you have shown that you can fight, just
when you ought to fight the hardest you slink bade to be whipped.”
“Yes, Miss Marston, if you care to put it that way.”
“Then, good-by!”
“Good-by!”
Perhaps each expected that the other would break the wall of reserve at
this moment of parting. He hesitated a moment--an awkward instant--then
he bowed and left the room.
Captain Downs walked with Mayo for a distance across the sand-dunes when
the latter started to make his way to the nearest railroad station. The
captain intended to remain at the inlet tmtil a representative of the
_Alden's_ owners arrived.
They left Bradish still huddled behind the stove in the kitchen.
“Unless my eyes have gone back on me, Captain Mayo, my notion is
that the dude is wasting his time hanging around that girl any more,”
suggested Captain Downs. “She has had him out on the marine railway of
love, has made proper survey, and has decided that she would hate to
sail the sea of matrimony with him. Don't you think that's so?”
“I think you're a good judge of what you see, Captain Downs.”
“I reckon that you and I as gents and master mariners are going to keep
mum about her being aboard the _Alden?_”
“Certainly, sir.”
“The coast-guard crew don't know who she is, and they can't find out.
So she can go home and mind her business from this time out. 'Most every
woman does one infernal fool thing in her life--and then is all right
ever after. But now a word on some subject that's sensible! What are you
going to do?”
“Stick my head into the noose. It's about the only thing I can do.”
“But you'll talk up to 'em, of course?”
“I'll play what few cards I hold as best I know, sir. The most I can
hope for is to make 'em drop that manslaughter case. Perhaps I can say
enough so that they'll be afraid to bring me to trial. As to getting my
papers back, I'm afraid that's out of the question. I'll have to start
life over in something else.”
“Mayo, why don't you go to the captain's office?” He promptly answered
the young man's glance of inquiry. “Julius Marston himself is the
supreme boss of that steamship-consolidation business. Bradish gave all
that part away, telling about those checks; though, of course, we all
knew about Marston before. It is probably likely that Marston gives true
courses to his understrappers. If they take fisherman's cuts between
buoys in order to get there quick, I'll bet he doesn't know about it. Go
to him and tell him, man to man, what has happened to you.”
“There are two reasons why I shall probably never see Mr. Marston,”
returned Mayo, grimly. “First, I'll be arrested before I can get across
New York to his office; second, I'll never get farther than the outer
office. He's guarded like the Czar of Russia, so they tell me.”
“Does his girl know anything about your case?”
“I blabbed it to her--like a fool--when we were in the boat. Why is it
that when a man is drunk or excited or in trouble, he'll blow the whole
story of his life to a woman?” growled Mayo.
“I've thought that over some, myself,” admitted Captain Downs.
“Especially on occasions when I've come to and realized what I've let
out. I suppose it's this--more or less: A man don't tell his troubles to
another man, for he knows that the other man is usually in'ardly glad
of it because any friend is in trouble. But a woman's sympathy is like a
flaxseed poultice--it soothes the ache and draws at the same time.”
Mayo trudged on in silence, kicking the sand.
“Seems to me the smallest thing that girl could have done was to offer
to get you a hearing with her old man. It was some chore you did for
her, mate!”
“I had to save myself. A few more in the party didn't matter.”
“These society girls think of themselves first, of course! I don't
suppose you give a hoot for my advice, Captain Mayo, but I'm talking to
you in the best spirit in the world.”
“I know you are, Captain Downs,” declared the young man, his sullenness
departing. “I didn't mean to show bristles to you! I'll try to see
Marston. It 'll be a hard stunt. But I'm in the mood to try anything. By
gad! if they lug me to jail, I'll go kicking!”
“That's the spirit, boy. And if you can get in a few kicks where Julius
Marston can see 'em they may count. He's the boss! I don't think I'll go
any farther with you. This is too hard footing for an old waddler like
me. Good luck!”
They shook hands and turned their backs on each other with sailor
repression in the matter of the emotions.
The young man went on his way, wondering in numbed despair how he could
have left Alma Marston with merely a curt word of farewell.
Mayo lurked that evening in the purlieus of Jersey City, and entered the
metropolis after midnight on a ferryboat which had few passengers and
afforded him a dark corner where he was alone. He found lodgings in
humble quarters on the East Side.
In the morning he nerved himself to the ordeal of appearing in the
streets. His belief in his own innocence made his suffering greater as
he waited for the clap of a heavy hand on his shoulder and the summons
of an officer's voice. He knew that the eyes of Uncle Sam are sharp and
his reach a long one. He had firm belief in the almost uncanny vigilance
of government officers. He was rather surprised to find himself at last
in the outer office of Marston & Waller.
He sat down on a bench and waited for a time in order to regain
his self-possession. He wanted to control features and voice before
accosting one of the guardians of the magnate. But the espionage of the
attendants did not permit loiterers to remain long in that place without
explanation. A man tiptoed to him and asked his name and his business.
“My name doesn't matter,” said Mayo. “But I have important business
with Mr. Marston. If you will tell him that the business is most
important--that it is something he ought to know, and that--”
“You haven't any appointment, then?”
“No.”
“Do you think for one moment that you can get in to see Mr. Marston
without giving your name and explaining beforehand the nature of your
business?”
“I hoped so, for it is important.”
“What is it?”
“It's private--it's something for Mr. Marston.”
“Impossible!” was the man's curt rejoinder. He went back to his post. In
a few moments he returned to Mayo. “You mustn't remain here. You cannot
see Mr. Marston.”
“Won't you take in a message from me? I'll explain--”
“Explain to me. That's what I'm here for.”
Telling that cold-blooded person that this visitor was the broken master
of the _Montana_ was out of the question. To mention the case of the
_Montana_ to this watchdog was dangerous. But Mayo dreaded to go back to
the street again.
“I'll stay here a little while and perhaps I can--” he began.
“If you stay here without explaining your business I'll have you
escorted down to the street by an officer, my friend.”
Mayo rose and hurried out.
“An officer!” Even in his despairing and innocent quest of a hearing
he was threatened with arrest! He sneaked back to his lodgings and hid
himself in the squalid apartment and nursed the misery of his soul.
That night Mayo sat till late, toiling over a letter addressed to Julius
Marston.
He despatched it by messenger at an early hour, and mustered his courage
in the middle of the forenoon and followed in person. He assumed a
boldness he did not feel in his quaking heart when he approached the
guardian of the outer office.
“Will you ask Mr. Marston if he will see the man who sent him a letter
by messenger this morning?” “What letter? Signed by what name?” “He will
understand what letter I refer to.” “He will, will he?” The attendant
gave this applicant sharp scrutiny. The coast-guard captain's liberty
garments were not impressive, nor did they fit very well. Mayo displayed
the embarrassment of the man who knew he was hunted. “Do you think Mr.
Marston receives only one letter by messenger in a morning? Look here,
my man, you were in here yesterday, and I look on you as a suspicious
character. You cannot see Mr. Marston on any such excuse. Get out of
that door inside of one minute or I'll send in a police call!”
And once more Mayo fled from the danger which threatened him. He bought
a stock of newspapers at a sidewalk news-stand; his hours of loneliness
in his little room the day before had tortured him mentally. He sat
himself down and read them. The news that the Vose line had gone into
the steamship combination was interesting and significant. Evidently the
_Montana's_ lay-up had discouraged the mass of stockholders. He had
time to kill and thoughts to stifle; he went on reading scrupulously,
lingering over matters in which he had no interest, striving to occupy
his mind and drive the bitter memories and his fears away from
him. Never in his life before had he read the society tattle in the
newspapers. However, dragging along the columns, he found a paragraph
on which he dwelt for a long time. It stated that Miss Marston of
Fifth Avenue had returned by motor from a house-party in the Catskills,
accompanied by Miss Lana Vanadistine, who would be a house guest of Miss
Marston's for a few days.
That bit of news was significant. She had established her alibi; she had
reinstated herself and had turned a smooth front to the world.
Mayo was certain in his soul that he knew her kind. His illusions were
departing. Now that her tragic experience was behind her, now that she
was back among her own, now that the fervor of romance was cool, she was
thanking God, so he told himself, that she had not sacrificed herself
for anybody. He was honestly glad that she was at home, glad of the hint
which the paragraph gave--that her secret was still her own, so far as
family and the social world were concerned.
That night Mayo took further counsel with himself. In the morning his
final decision was made. He would endeavor once more to see Julius
Maxston. He determined that he would march into the outer office, boldly
announce his name, assert that he was there to expose a crime, and tell
them that if Mr. Marston refused to hear him he should tell what he knew
to the public through the newspapers; then he would ask them to send for
the police, if the door of Marston's office remained closed to him. He
would call attention to himself and to his case by all the uproar
he could make. When he went to jail he would go with plenty of folks
looking on. Let Marston and his fellow-financiers see how they liked
that!
It was a desperate and a crude plan, but Mayo was not a diplomat--he was
a sailor.
He marched forth on his errand with his chin up and resolve flaming
within him.
Other men, prosperous-looking and rotund men, rode up in the elevator