Part 129

When his associate came in over the rail of the Ethel and May Captain Candage, from force of habit, having picked up his men, gave orders to let her off into the wind.

“Hold her all-aback!” commanded Mayo. “Excuse me, Captain Candage, for a cross-order, but I've got a bit of news I want you to hear before we leave. The junk crowd has got cold feet and are going to sell as she stands, as soon as they get cargoes for those lighters.”

“Well, she does lay in a bad way, and weather is making,” said the skipper, fiddling his forefinger under his nose dubiously.

“They haven't even skimmed the cream off her--probably will get all her cargo that's worth saving and some loose stuff in the rigging line. By gad! what a chance for a gamble!”

“It might be for a feller who had so much money he could kiss a slice of it good-by in case the Atlantic Ocean showed aces,” said the old man, revealing a sailor's familiarity with a popular game.

“There is such a thing as being desperate enough to stake your whole bundle,” declared Mayo. “Captain, I'm young, and I suppose I have got a young man's folly. I can't expect you to feel the way I feel about a gamble.”

“I may look old, but I haven't gone to seed yet,” grumbled the skipper. “What are you trying to get through you?”

“That fat man on that lighter has a telegram in his pocket from his folks in Boston, ordering him to take the first offer that is made for the Conomo as she stands. I'm fool enough to be willing to put in every dollar I've got, and take a chance.”

Captain Candage stared at his associate for a time, and then walked to the rail and took a long look at the steamer. “I never heard of a feller ever getting specially rich in the fishing game,” he remarked.

Mayo, wild thoughts urging him to desperate ventures, snapped out corroboration of that dictum..

“And I've known a lot of fellers to go broke in the wrecking game,” pursued Captain Candage. “How much have you got?” That question came unexpectedly.

“I've got rising six hundred dollars.” He was carrying his little hoard in his pocket, for a man operating from the hamlet of Maquoit must needs be his own banker.

“I've got rising six hundred in my own pocket,” said the skipper. “That fat man may have orders to take the first offer that's made, but we've got to make him one that's big enough so that he won't kick us overboard and then go hunt up a buyer on the main.”

The two Hue and Cry fishermen who had ferried the young man were nesting their dory on top of other dories, and just forward of the house, and were within hearing. Neither captain noted with what interest these men were listening, exchanging glances with the man at the wheel.

“And after we waggle our wad under his nose--and less than a thousand will be an insult, so I figger--what have we got left to operate with? It won't do us any good to sail round that steamer for the rest of the winter and admire her. What was you thinking, Mayo, of trying to work him for a snap bargain, now that he's here on the spot and anxious to sell, and then grabbing off a little quick profit by peddling her to somebody else?”

“No, sir!” cried the young man, with decision. “I've got my own good reasons for wanting to make this job the whole hog or not a bristle! I won't go into it on any other plan.”

“Well, we'll be into something, all right, after we invest our money--the whole lump. We'll most likely be in a scrape, not a dollar left to hire men or buy wrecking outfit.”

The two men finished lashing the dories and went forward.

“It's a wild scheme, and I'm a fool to be thinking about it, Captain Candage. But wild schemes appeal to me just now. I can make some more money by working hard and saving it, a few dollars at a time, but I never expect to see another chance like this. Oh yes, I see that bank in the south!” His eyes followed the skipper's gloomy stare. “By to-morrow at this time she may be forty fathoms under. But here's the way I feel.” He pulled out his wallet and slapped it down on the roof of the house. “All on the turn of one card! And there comes the blow that will turn it!” He pointed south into the slaty clouds.

Captain Candage paused in his patrol of the quarterdeck and gazed down on the wallet. Then he began to tug at his own. “I'm no dead one, even if my hair is gray,” he grumbled.

The two captains looked at the two wallets, and then at each other. The next moment their attention was fully taken up by another matter. Their crew of fifteen men came marching aft and lined up forward of the house. A spokesman stepped out.

“Excuse us, captings, for meddling into something that p'raps ain't none of our business. We ain't meaning to peek nor pry, but some of us couldn't help overhearing. We've cleaned out our pockets. Here it is--three hundred and sixty-eight dollars and thirty-seven cents. Will you let me step onto the quarter-deck and lay it down 'side of them wallets?” He accepted their amazed silence as consent, and made his deposit solemnly.

“But this is all a gamble, and a mighty uncertain one,” protested Mayo.

“We 'ain't never had no chance to be sports before in all our lives,” pleaded the man. “We wouldn't have had that money if you two heroes hadn't give us the chance you have. We wa'n't more'n half men before. Now we can hold up our heads. You'll make us feel mighty mean, as if we wasn't fit to be along with you, if you won't let us in.”

“You bet you can come in, boys!” shouted Captain Candage. “I know how you feel.”

“And another thing,” went on the spokesman. “We 'ain't had much time to talk this over; we rushed aft here as soon as we heard and had cleaned out our pockets. But we've said enough to each other so that we can tell you that all of us will turn to on that wreck with you and work for nothing till--till--well, whatever happens. Don't want wages! Don't need promises! And if she sinks, we'll sing a song and go back to fishing again.”

The man at the wheel let go the spokes and came forward and deposited a handful of money beside the rest. “There's mine. I wisht it was a million; it would go just as free.”

“Boys, I'd make a speech to you--but my throat is too full,” choked Mayo. “I know better, now, why something called me over to Hue and Cry last summer. Hard over with that wheel! Jockey her down toward the wreck!”