Читать книгу Chums of the "Golden Vanity" - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 6
ОглавлениеGordon's Little Scheme
The chums' knowledge of what is known as "the world" was decidedly limited. They were practical enough when dealing with situations or tackling problems connected with youthful sport and pastime, but when thrown into contact with strangers they were apt to accept them at their own valuation.
Thus it was that they accepted Mr. Gordon's statement without hesitation: that he was a yachtsman who had been "compelled to go to London and leave his craft at Falmouth". Since Mr. Gordon wanted the Arran Dhu taken round to Cowes, the arrangement fitted in admirably. They would be doing the owner a good turn while he would be saved the inconvenience of making a long train journey to bring her eastwards at some future date.
As a matter of fact Mr. Gordon lived in various places between Bournemouth and Hastings, never remaining more than a few weeks in the same hotel. In London he had "chambers" of a more or less permanent character. He described himself as a financier—a high-sounding term to the uninitiated. Some people had no hesitation in describing him as a shark. On more than one occasion he had been called that to his face and he had accepted the insult with a sickly smile.
Thanks to the tolerant and benevolent attitude of the British Government to undesirable foreigners seeking sanctuary within its gates, Mr. Gordon's father had little difficulty in dropping his name—an unpronounceable one ending in "ski"—and assuming a good Scots one. The present Mr. Gordon found the name useful. It inspired confidence in clients who communicated with him by letter only. Mr. Gordon rarely granted personal interviews professionally. He was fully alive to the fact that the assumption of a Scottish name had not and could not eliminate the marked characteristics of his Russo-Polish forbears.
Through one of those sudden inexplicable impulses to which human nature is subject, Gordon decided "to go in for yachting". It seemed easy. All one had to do was to buy a yacht, join a club, engage a crew (even if the crew numbered one only), and, of course, purchase a yachting uniform with peaked cap complete. That was Gordon's view. He set about putting his ideas into execution.
He had no trouble in buying a yachting suit. Joining a "Royal" club presented little difficulty, especially as the club was anxious to increase its membership list, and thereby strengthen its financial position. Mr. Gordon, having been duly proposed and seconded by members who had never set eyes on him and who knew nothing whatever about him, was declared elected.
Then came the snag—the purchase of a yacht. Gordon, who prided himself upon the calculating cunning whereby he had fleeced scores of foolish victims, had yet to discover that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, especially when yachts are concerned.
A carefully worded attractive advertisement resulted in the purchase of the Arran Dhu. Knowing nothing about "marine survey", Gordon bought her at Penzance "as she now lies", according to the vendor's announcement. It was true that she was officially registered. Her number was carved deeply in her main deck beam. Her certificate was in order—her pedigree that showed amongst other things that once she had been the property of a belted earl. So, in consideration of a monetary payment, Gordon became the owner of "sixty-four sixty-fourths" of the Arran Dhu.
Straight stemmed, lean bodied, and deep draughted, Arran Dhu was as "stiff as a church and as slow as a funeral". According to local longshoremen "she'd starve you afore she'd drown you". Her timbers and planking were sound. Her sails were in good condition. Her standing and running gear had recently been renewed. Freshly painted, Arran Dhu looked a smart well-cared-for craft; but to the professional eye there was no disguising the fact that she was no chicken.
Having purchased the yacht, Gordon had her insured up to the hilt; but according to the terms of the policy, he had to bear the first fifty pounds of every claim for accident.
Then, having engaged two local men to act as crew, Gordon set sail from Penzance bound up-Channel.
Before the Lizard bore abeam, Gordon had had enough of open sea work. A beat to wind'ard with a strong weather-going tide—conditions under which sailing provides a most exhilarating sensation—proved too much for the financier's internal stability. Not only was he violently sea-sick; the yellow streak, in the form of abject fear, displayed itself conspicuously. From first to last he never was in any danger; but when the Arran Dhu entered the sheltered waters of Falmouth Harbour, Gordon began to abuse his paid hands, alleging that they had deliberately exposed his precious carcase to extreme peril.
The inevitable result was that the two men—honest Cornish yacht hands—refused point blank to remain on board and obtained their discharge forthwith. Gordon's cowardly behaviour became known to the Falmouth yacht hands, and the upshot was that Arran Dhu's owner found himself stranded.
Not that he wanted to risk his precious life in the open waters of the English Channel. In the Solent with a harbour under one's lee, no matter the direction of the wind, yachting in his opinion might be tolerable. Once he found someone willing to sail the boat to those sheltered waters, all would be well. If, on the other hand, the yacht were lost, he would more than recoup himself for his initial outlay.
So he hailed with intense satisfaction the chance that threw Bernard and Geoff in his way.
Not that he wanted them to lose their lives. He did not mind them risking their hides, however careful he was of his own. But, he consoled himself, if the yacht were lost, the crew could take to the dinghy, and would probably either make their way ashore or else get picked up by a passing vessel.
Like many ill-informed individuals, Gordon regarded "taking to the boat" as a matter of course. He did not stop to think that in nine cases out of ten, when a yacht sinks or is thrown ashore owing to the violence of the elements, her dinghy is already either swamped or stove-in.
Everything considered, Gordon had good reason to congratulate himself on being able to persuade the chums to attempt to sail the yacht round. He had saved the cost of professional labour; if an accident happened, he would not be liable under the Workmen's Compensation Act.
In short, he summed up the case as follows: either Arran Dhu would reach the Solent or she would not. If she did it would be a task economically carried out. If she did not, he would draw the insurance. An alternative proposition never occurred to him, and this is where Mr. Gordon, astute financier, made a serious miscalculation.
