Читать книгу The River Fury - H. A. Cody - Страница 8

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That evening as Nat walked back to the city his mind was filled with many thoughts. Mingled with the vision of the Bonnie Doon and the Norseman was that of the strange girl who unknowingly had served as a model for Mr. Farthing’s figure-head. He knew very well how she must have looked as she came up the Bay to the shipyards, for a picture of her was still vivid in his memory as she had sailed by the Flying Scud in her little boat. Who was she, anyway? A desire came upon him to unwrap the model he was carrying under his arm and look upon it again. He resisted this longing, however, and quickened his steps. The premier himself must be the first one to do that, and he was anxious to see the expression of surprise upon his face as his eyes rested upon the beautifully carved form. That the premier would be greatly pleased he had no doubt, for any man with the slightest artistic sense would surely be charmed by such workmanship.

His reverie was disturbed by the sudden appearance of Ru Tettle, who had come out of the Flood Gate saloon on the left. He had been drinking and was in an insolent mood. He was the last person in the world Nat desired to meet just then. He was annoyed, and was about to pass without a word, when Ru accosted him, and stepped to his side.

“What’s the rush, Nat?”

“I’m in a hurry. It’s getting late.”

“Stayed too long with the old man, eh? Or was it the girl that kept you?”

“What girl?”

“Oh, you know a’ right. Faith’s a beaut. Ye had supper there, I s’pose.”

“Well, what if I did? That’s my own business.”

“Had Bible readin’ an’ prayers afterwards, no doubt, with psalm singin’ as an end up.”

“No, Ru, we didn’t. But I was far better off with Mr. Farthing and Faith than you were guzzling rum in the saloon.”

“H’m, that’s where ye’re mistaken, Nat. A glass now an’ then is good fer any man. It sets him up an’ makes him feel good.”

“It makes a devil of him.”

“Oh, girls like men that way. They git disgusted with the straight-faced psalm singin’ bunch.”

“Some may, but not all, so don’t be too sure.”

“Aw, they’re all alike. Faith’s no different from the rest. She likes a man with some devil in him.”

Nat stopped suddenly and looked at his companion.

“See here, Ru, we all have much of the devil in us, and you’ll soon find out how much I have unless you hold your tongue about Faith. She’s one of the truest girls that ever lived.”

Ru knew that Nat meant what he said, and but for the rum that had gone to his head, he would have heeded the warning. But he was in a quarrelsome frame of mind, so threw discretion to the wind.

“Faith’s like all the rest,” he declared with an oath. “But fer her old cuss of a father you’d soon see what she’d do. Jist give her the chance, an’ ye’d soon see where she’d land.”

Nat’s hands clenched hard, and he lifted his right arm for an instant, but let it fall again. His eyes blazed, and his bronzed face turned white. With an effort he controlled himself, and glanced to the left along a side street leading to the shipyards.

“Suppose we go and have a look at the Norseman,” he suggested as calmly as possible.

“A’right,” Ru agreed, somewhat surprised at Nat’s request.

At the eastern end of the street several large piles of deals were stored not far from the noble vessel lying upon her stocks. Coming to the first pile, Nat stopped.

“Come in here, Ru. I want to settle with you, and this is a quiet place.”

“What d’ye mean?” Ru demanded, shrinking back a little. “What d’ye want to settle?”

“Come in and I’ll soon show you.”

Nat went forward a few paces, stopped, and laid his parcel on the end of a deal. He then stripped off his coat and faced Ru.

“Perhaps you understand my meaning now,” he began. “You made an insulting remark about Faith, and I’m going to make you take it back. The police won’t bother us here. Come on, I’m ready.”

Ru was in a quandary. He was well aware of Nat’s strength and determination. This was not the first time he had stirred the captain of the Flying Scud to anger. But always then it had been the blow before the word. He was regaining his senses now, and had no relish for a fight with such an opponent. He was a bully and a coward at heart.

“There’s no sense in us fightin’,” he hedged. “I didn’t really mean any harm to Faith. She’s a cute little thing an’ I like her.”

“Take back what you said about her, then.”

“Sure I will. But I didn’t think what I said would make ye so mad.”

“You didn’t? Well, you must be mighty stupid. I won’t allow any good girl to be lightly spoken of in my presence if I can help it. You had better keep your dirty mouth shut when I am around.”

Nat was mad and he longed to get his hands upon Ru. But if the fellow would not fight, what could he do? He picked up his coat, put it on, and stepped forward.

“I am going now, Ru, but I don’t want you to come with me. I wouldn’t be seen walking along the street with a thing like you. I wish you would fight, for my hands are itching to get at you.”

He looked over at the Norseman, as if the sight of the noble vessel would clear his eyes and soul. And as he looked, he gave a start and peered keenly forward.

“The Norseman’s on fire!” he exclaimed. “There’s smoke at her bow!”

With a bound he sprang into the street, and raced into the shipyard straight towards the Norseman. He shouted as he ran, and his cries attracted the attention of several women standing at the doors of their houses. They in turn gave the alarm, and soon men, women and children were hurrying down the street.

In the meantime Nat had seized a bucket lying near and rushing to the shore brought it back full of water which he poured upon the flames which were licking up the shavings and other dry material lying near. Pail after pail he carried, and when he was joined by several men armed with buckets, the fire was ere long extinguished.

By this time a crowd had gathered, and many were the speculations as to the cause of the fire. Nat was not interested in the discussion. He had done all that he could, and he was no longer needed. There were more than enough men to keep watch over the Norseman. Then he thought of Ru. In his excitement he had forgotten all about him. What had become of the fellow, anyway? He looked keenly around, but he was no where to be seen. Then he remembered that Ru had not helped him to extinguish the fire. The cur! He had evidently stood and watched, but had done nothing. But perhaps he had hurried away, and by now he might be on board the Snag ready to sail. It was more likely, however, that he had gone back to the saloon for more rum.

Leaving the yard, Nat walked up the short street, and as he passed the piles of lumber he suddenly remembered the parcel he had left on one of the deals. He stopped short, and then hurried back, fearful lest it had been stolen. Great was his relief when he found it just where he had left it. To all appearance no one had touched it. He wondered why Ru had not meddled with the parcel, for he had seen him glance curiously at it when they had first met. But no doubt the rascal had thought nothing more about it, especially after the unpleasant interview between the piles of deals.

Tucking it under his arm, and determined that he would not let go of it again until he was on board the Scud, Nat hastened on his way. He knew that Tom would have everything ready, and would be impatiently awaiting his coming. Although Nat was captain, Tom, in a way, was the real commander. Age and years of experience at sea gave him considerable prestige, and Nat naturally depended much upon the man he had known all his life, and who had served his father so faithfully. He was very fond of the old sailor, and allowed him to speak his mind freely whenever he was in a critical mood, which was quite often. That he would be so this evening, Nat was certain. But a plug of his favorite tobacco would have a soothing effect, so Nat decided to make the purchase at a King street tobacco store.

As he walked rapidly along, he thought of Ru. It was his fault that he was late. The rascal! He had let him off too easily. He should have given him the thrashing he deserved for what he had said about Faith. A thorough beating was all that such a creature as Ru could understand. He would misinterpret gentleness as weakness. He might think that Nat was afraid of him, and even now he might be boasting in the saloon and making himself out as a hero. Ru was a past-master at the art of lying. This Nat knew, and as he thought of the stories Ru would be likely to trump up, his hands clenched hard, and his heart grew hot with anger. Why had he not given the fellow a sound drubbing? Then the marks upon his face would tell their own tale and belie his words.

But suppose he had not met Ru, the Norseman might have been destroyed. If they had not gone near the shipyard, that noble vessel might now be a seething mass of flames. And if Ru had not been such a coward, refusing to fight, the fire might not have been discovered in time. In another five minutes it would have been too late to save the ship.

These thoughts came to Nat with a rush shortly before he reached the tobacco store. His steps slowed, and he became oblivious to what was going on around him. His heart quickened at the idea that his meeting with Ru had been specially ordained. Nat had never been interested in theological questions, although he had often listened to Tom who considered himself an authority on predestination and election, even more so than Mr. Farthing. But this about the Norseman was something practical which appealed to him more than volumes of disputations. It did seem as if good sometimes came out of evil. This was a startling idea, and altogether out of his unusual line of thought. He dimly remembered how he had once heard old Parson Westmore say something like that in a sermon. He had wondered then for a few minutes how good could come out of evil, but so filled had been his mind with other things that he had thought nothing more about it until now. It was certainly puzzling. He must ask Tom.

Coming to the store, he entered, and ordered the tobacco.

“Give me two plugs,” he told the clerk. “They will last Tom until we get back.”

“Leaving tonight?” the clerk asked.

“Yes, just as soon as the tide serves. I should have been on board sooner, but that fire under the Norseman detained me.”

“I just heard about it, captain. Queer how the fire started. An accident, no doubt.”

“I hope so.”

The clerk tied up the tobacco and clipped the string with a pair of old scissors. He handed the package to Nat and took his money.

“I hope so, too,” he remarked. “But it may have been set on purpose. I can’t help being suspicious.”

“Why? Surely no one would set that fire on purpose.”

“That’s what I try to think. But I’ve seen a number of queer characters around lately, and there’s no telling what they might do.”

“But why should they want to burn the Norseman? What could they gain by doing such a thing?”

“Revenge. The premier has enemies who hate him, and are jealous of his success. He is putting much money into that ship, and to see it destroyed would give some great joy.”

“Nonsense,” Nat declared. “I don’t believe anyone started that fire. Most likely it was due to a hot bolt which the workman overlooked, or some other carelessness.”

“Maybe so, captain. But it doesn’t look reasonable to me. Fires, as a rule, don’t start that way in the shipyards. No, you can’t make me believe it was a hot bolt.”