Blow The Man Down: A Romance Of The Coast
“Get out of this room, both of you! I don't want the police up here.”
Mayo clapped hand on his prisoner's shoulder and pushed him out.
“Go down-stairs slow,” protested the man. “He is bound to come out and
call me back! He's got to! He doesn't dare to dump me!”
“He dares to do anything,” stated Mayo, bitterly, “including what he
did to me and the _Montana_. I suppose you read about it--everybody else
did.”
They walked leisurely, but Mr. Fogg's door remained closed. They waited
in the office of the hotel. He did not appear.
“By Judas!” rasped the man, “another two-spot torn up and thrown into
the discard along with you! And I helped 'em do it to you! I'm coming
across, Mayo! That telephone business was a mighty friendly trick to
help me force him. I appreciate it! I was on board the _Montana_ that
night you and she got yours! My name is Burkett--Oliver. I was there,
though you didn't see me.”
“I heard you were there, afterward,” stated Captain Mayo, grimly.
“Captain Wass mentioned you!”
“And probably didn't give me much of a reputation. I can't help that!
You needn't put one bit more trust in me, Captain Mayo, than you want
to. I don't ask you to have any respect for me. But I want to tell you
that when a man promises to back me and then turns round and dumps me
so as to cover his own tracks, he will get his if I'm able to hand it to
him! I'm generally dirty. I'm especially dirty in a case like that!”
“If you show me any favors, Mr. Burkett, I suppose I'll have to depend
on your spite against Fogg instead of your affection for me. You see,
I'm perfectly frank. But I have been fooled too much to place any trust
in anybody.”
“I don't ask you to trust me. I know how the _Montana_ job was done. I'm
not going to tell you right now. I'm going to make sure that I have been
thrown down by Fogg. And if I have been--if he means it--I'm going to
use you so that I can get back at him, no matter how much it helps you.
I can be pretty frank myself, you understand!”
They were silent and looked at each other.
“Well?” inquired Burkett, sourly.
“Well, what?” asked Mayo, with as little show of liking.
“What about this police business--about your complaint against me?”
“I'm not going to say anything about the case! You're free, as far as
I'm concerned. I am ashore here to make a raise of money or credit. I
can't spend any time in court, bothering with you.”
“I reckon you got your satisfaction out of that beating-up you gave me.
I rather began to like you after that,” said Burkett, pulling one corner
of his mouth into a grin that was a grimace. “I'm going to stay at this
hotel.”
“Fogg will see that our affair just now was a bluff. He will have you
into camp once more.”
“You've got to take your chances on it, Mayo. What do you say?”
“I'll take my chances.”
“By gad! sir, you're a square chap, and I'm not meeting many of that
sort in these days! Let this thing hang. Before you leave the city, slip
word to me here. I'll tell you the news!”
With that understanding they parted.
Three days later, acknowledging to himself that he was a thoroughly
beaten young man, Mayo walked into the Nicholas Hotel. He had been
unable to secure either encouragement, money, or credit. There were
parties who would back him in any attempt to junk the _Conomo_; but his
proposition to raise her with the aid of the tribe of Hue and Cry made
his project look like a huge joke and stirred hearty amusement all
along the water-front. Everywhere he found proof of Fogg's neat work of
discouragement. If a real salvaging company had turned the scheme down
as impracticable, how could penniless amateurs hope? It was conceded
in business and financial circles that they hoped because they were
amateurs.
Mayo's outlook on his own strictly personal affairs was as dismal as
his view of the Razee project in which his associates were concerned. He
went to the hotel merely because he had promised Burkett that he would
notify that modern buccaneer regarding any intended departure. He
despondently reflected that if Fogg and Burkett had agreed again, the
combination against him still existed. If they were persistently on the
outs, Burkett was merely a discredited agent whose word, without proofs,
could be as easily brushed away as his connection with Fogg in the'
matter of the _Conomo_. In fact, so Mayo pondered, he might find
association with Burkett dangerous, because demands for consideration
can be twisted into semblance of blackmail by able lawyers. He
entertained so few hopes in regard to any assistance from Burkett that
he was rather relieved to discover that the man was no longer a guest at
the hotel.
“Has he left town?”
“I suppose there's no secret about the thing,” explained the clerk. “Mr.
Fogg had the man arrested yesterday, for threatening words and actions.
Something of that sort. Anyway, he is in jail and must give bonds to
keep the peace.”
Mayo's flagging interest in the possibilities of Burkett as an aid in
his affairs was a bit quickened by that piece of news, and he hurried
up to the jail. If ever a captured and fractious bird of passage was
beating wings against his cage's bars in fury and despair, Mr. Burkett
was doing it with vigor. Mayo, admitted as a friend who might aid
in quelling the disturbance that was making the deafened jailers and
noise-maddened prisoners regret the presence of Mr. Burkett, found the
man clinging to the iron rods and kicking his foot against them.
“It's the last thing he did before he left town, this what he has done
to me. I can't give bonds. I don't know anybody in this city,” raved the
prisoner.
“I'm afraid that I don't know the folks here very well, judging from my
experiences trying to raise money,” stated Captain Mayo, after he had
quieted Burkett. “But I'll go out and see what I can do.”
After some pleading he induced a fish wholesaler to go to the jail with
him and inspect Burkett as a risk in the matter of bonds. Mr. Burkett,
being a man of guile, controlled his wrath and offered a presentable
guise of mildness.
“But how am I going to know that he won't be hunting this enemy up as
soon as I give bonds?” asked the fishman.
“Captain Mayo is tackling a job of wrecking, offcoast,” said Burkett,
“and I'm out of work just now and will go with him. I'll be a safe risk,
all right, out there.”
“Does that go with you, Captain Mayo?”
“Yes, sir.”
After the matter of bonds had been arranged before the commissioner, and
when Burkett walked down the street with Mayo, the latter stopped on a
corner.
“I'll have to leave you here, Burkett. I'm going aboard the schooner.
We're sailing.”
“But how about your taking me?”
“I was willing to help you lie that much, Burkett. I knew you did not
intend to go with me.”
“I don't want to put you in bad with anybody after this, Captain Mayo.
I need to keep away for a time where I won't be in danger of seeing
Fletcher Fogg. If I meet him while I'm frothing like this, I'll kill
him, even if it means the chair. Give me a lay aboard that steamer, no
matter how bad your prospects are, and I'll be square with you.
That's my man's word to you. I realize it isn't much of a word in your
estimation--but there are some promises I can keep. I propose to help
you get back at Fogg and his gang. That's reason enough for what I'm
doing,” he pleaded, earnestly. “You ought to see that yourself. I'm just
as good a man with machinery as I am in the pilot-house. I won't set you
back any!”
“All right, Mr. Burkett, come along,” agreed Mayo, curtly, without
enthusiasm.
There was a fair wind for their departure and Mayo headed the schooner
for Maquoit. The few words which Captain Candage had dropped in regard
to Rowley's state of mind worried Mayo. His little edifice of hope was
tottering to a fall, but the loss of the _Ethel and May_ meant the last
push and utter ruin. He decided that he was in honor bound to preserve
the schooner for the uses of the men of Hue and Cry, even if it meant
abandonment of the _Conomo_ and going back to fishing. Without that
craft they would be paupers once more.
The _Ethel and May_ sneaked her way into Maquoit harbor--if a schooner
can be said to sneak. A breeze at nightfall fanned her along, and when
her killick went down, the rusty chain groaned querulously from her
hawse-hole.
Mayo rowed ashore and toiled his way up the little street to the widow's
cottage. He was ashamed to meet Polly Candage--ashamed with the feelings
of a strong man who has put out every effort and has failed. But,
somehow, he wanted to feel that sisterly grip of her hand and look down
into those encouraging gray eyes. He remembered that in times past
she had soothed and stimulated him. This time he did not come to her
expecting to get new courage for further effort; he had exhausted all
resources, he told himself. But in his bitter humiliation he needed the
companionship of a true friend--yes, he felt, almost, that she was now
the only friend he had left. His experiences with those whom he had
before looked on as friends had made him feel that he stood alone.
She came running to him in the little parlor, her hands outstretched and
her face alight.
He felt at first sight of her, and his face flushed at thought of his
weakness, that he wanted to put his head on her shoulder and weep.
“You poor boy, things have not been going well!”
He choked, for the caress in her tones touched his heart. He patted her
hands, and she sat down beside him on the old haircloth sofa.
“I've had a terrible week of it, Polly.”
Her sweet smile did not waver. The gray eyes stared straight into his.
“I have talked to 'em till my mouth has been parched and my tongue sore,
and God knows my heart is sore. All they do is look at me and shake
their heads. I thought I had friends alongshore--men who believed in
me--men who would take my word and help me. I'll never be fooled again
by the fellows who pat you on the back in sunny weather, and won't lend
you an umbrella when it rains unless you'll leave your watch with 'em
for security. And speaking of the watch,” he went on, smiling wistfully,
for her mere presence and her unspoken sympathy had begun to cheer
him, “reminds me why I'm here in Maquoit. Oh yes,” he put in, hastily,
catching a queer look of disappointment on her face, “I did want to
see you. I looked forward to seeing you after all the others had turned
their backs on me. There's something wonderfully comforting in your
face, Polly, when you just look at me. You don't have to say a word.”
“I do thank you, Boyd.”
“I hear that Rowley is getting uneasy about his schooner--wants to
take it away from us. So I have sold my watch and all the other bits
of personal things I could turn into cash, and am here to give him the
money and tell him we're going back to fishing again.”
“You'll give up the steamer?”
“Yes--and hopes and prospects and all. I've got to.”
“But if you could win!”
“I'll stay down where I belong. I won't dream any more.”
“Don't give up.”
“There's nothing else to do. We poor devils need something besides our
bare hands.”
The girl struggled mightily with her next question, but he did not note
her emotions, for his elbows were on his knees and he was staring at the
rag carpet.
“Will it cost a lot of money for what you want to do on the steamer?”
“We may need a lot before we can do it all. But I have been sitting up
nights planning the thing, Polly. I have gone over and over it. When I
was on board the steamer waiting for your father, I examined her as best
I could.. If I had a little money, I could make a start, and after I
started, and could show the doubters what could be done, I could raise
more money then. I am sure of it. Of course the first investment is the