Sheila of Big Wreck Cove Part 36

"The dratted Portygee's gone off to Paulmouth. He left word that he couldn't sail with us this trip."

"Then he'll never sail on the _Seamew_ again," declared the skipper grimly.

"And _that_ won't bother him none," said the boatswain gloomily.

"I'll get breakfast for all hands," said Tunis. "I'm not above that.

Where are the hands?"

"As far as I know, Cap'n Tunis, they are where Johnny Lark is.

Haven't shown up, and don't mean to," said Horry doggedly.

Tunis Latham cursed his delinquent crew soundly. The rage which flamed into his eyes, added to the pallor of his face, made an ugly mask indeed. It was not often that he gave way to such an outburst, but Horry had seen the same deadly anger displayed on occasion by Captain Randall Latham.

"Where's Mr. Chapin?"

"He was here before you, Cap'n Tunis. He's gone up to town to see if he can drum up some hands."

"Where's 'Rion?"

"He says he'll be here by the time you get ready to wheel the stuff aboard." And the old man pointed with his pipe-stem toward the open door of the shed.

"Ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Tunis. "Feared I'd set him to work, eh? Well, they're all dogs together--the whole litter of 'em. I'll make the coffee. Tell me when Mr. Chapin comes. I suppose we can hire enough hands to get the freight aboard."

"But we can't work the schooner with three men, Cap'n Tunis; nor yet with four."

"Don't I know that? I'll get a crew if I have to shanghai them,"

promised Tunis grimly.

Mason Chapin came along with half a dozen fellows after a while. One was a negro who could cook. But there was no breakfast worthy of the name served aboard the _Seamew_ that morning. They were late already in getting to work.

It was the middle of the forenoon before the schooner left port.

There was a crew, such as it was. But Mason Chapin had been obliged to promise them extra pay to get them aboard the schooner at all.

When 'Rion Latham slipped aboard finally, half the loading of the cargo had been accomplished. Tunis himself was keeping tally. The skipper beckoned his cousin to him.

"'Rion," he said, "you certainly are about as useless a fellow as I ever had anything to do with. These Portygees who have left me in the lurch have some excuse for their actions. They are ignorant and superst.i.tious. You know mighty well that the stuff you have been repeating about the schooner being cursed is nothing but lies and old-women's gossip! You've done it to make trouble. I ought to have had booted you overboard at the start."

"Aw--you--"

"Close your hatch!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Tunis. "And keep it closed. I'm talking, and I won't take any of your slack in return. I am not married to you, thanks be! I think you've got pretty near enough of me, and I'm sure I have of you, 'Rion. I give you warning--"

"Oh! You do?" snarled 'Rion, his ugly face aflame.

"Yes. I give you _fair_ warning. When the _Seamew_ gets back here to Big Wreck Cove again, you're through! You can take your dunnage ash.o.r.e now if you like, but you go without pay if you do. Or you can do your work properly on this trip and return. _Then_ you get through. Take your choice."

He expected 'Rion would leave the _Seamew_ then and there. Tunis half hoped, indeed, that he would do so. But to his surprise, Orion suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed the book and pencil out of the skipper's hand and, growling that "he'd stay the voyage out," shuffled away to the rail and began taking tally of the barrels and cases being hauled aboard.

Working smartly, the new crew got the _Seamew_ under sail and out of the cove two hours later. The wind held in a favorable quarter, and they reached Hollis betimes. There they finished the schooner's loading, and about dark went out to sea on a long tack and got plenty of sea room before they made the short leg of it.

Supper was the first good meal they had had aboard that day. After everything was cleaned up, the black cook joined the crew forward.

In whispers the men talked over both the skipper and his schooner.

The story of the curse was known to everybody in Big Wreck Cove by this time, and none of these new men was ignorant of it. They had, however, merely used it as a means of getting more pay than ordinary seamen were getting in such vessels.

"'Tain't nothing as I can see," one of the older men said, "that is likely to hurt us. It's a curse on the schooner, not on us folks that warn't aboard her when she run under that other boat. And as long as we keep away from the spot where the poor devils was drowned, we ain't likely to see no ha'nts."

The cook's eyes rolled tremendously.

"You thinks likely this yere is that _Marlin B._?"

"Bah!" exclaimed one, whose name was Carney. "It's only talk. Maybe she ain't that schooner at all. Mr. Chapin says she ain't."

"Is that so?" sneered the voice of 'Rion Latham behind them. "You fellows don't want to believe what the skipper and the mate say. It ain't to their benefit for you to believe the truth. Look here!"

"What's that?" asked Carney, looking at the article Orion pushed forward in the dark. "A broken oar?"

"That's what it is. I found it only this morning in the hold, when I was helping stow the last of the cargo. It was wedged in behind a timber of her frame."

"Well? What of it?"

"Strike a match somebody. See what's burned into that handle?"

Their heads were cl.u.s.tered about the faint glimmer of the match flame. But the light was sufficient to reveal what 'Rion pointed out. Burned more or less unevenly were the letters M A R L I N B.

"What do you think of that?" exclaimed 'Rion. "Would that broken oar be aboard of this dratted schooner if she wasn't the _Marlin B._ painted over and a new name give her? What do you fellows think of it?"

There was silence in the group when the match flame died out. It was finally the negro cook who made comment:

"Lawsy me!" he groaned. "Ef I had only de faith of Peter I'd up an'

walk ash.o.r.e from dis here cussed schooner right now!"

CHAPTER XXV

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED

The girl whom Cap'n Ira Ball found in the kitchen of the old house on Wreckers' Head when he hobbled out of his bedroom the next morning was not the Ida May he had been wont to find of late, ready with his shaving materials, hot water, and a clean and voluminous checked ap.r.o.n to be tucked in about the neckband of his s.h.i.+rt.

All was in readiness as usual, but the girl herself was smileless, heavy-eyed, and slack of step. That she had suffered both in body and mind since the day before, the least observant person in the world would have easily comprehended.

"I swan, Ida May!" gasped the old man. "Whatever's happened to you?"

"I did not sleep well, Uncle Ira," she told him faintly.

"Sleep? Why you look as though you'd been standing double watch for a week of Sundays! I never see the beat! Has that crazy gal coming here set ye all aback this way?"

"I--I am afraid so."