Henry M. Rideout

“ And it was on the same evening, cold and rainy, when the saloons and Chinese laundries across Harrison Avenue were beginning to show lighted windows, and the rumble of drays was lessening, that Billy heard the door bell of two twenty nine jangle down on the ground floor, and encountered Nason in the obscure light at the head of the spiral stairway.
"Sawyer the lawyer," was Billy's greeting. "So you're really off for New York for good, to begin the great fight. Come in here and sit down, won't you? There are some fellows in the next room playing checkers or something. ”

“ An' the volcano! All we could 'ear was bum-bum-bow-row-bang! an' up shoots flame an' 'ot rocks like balloons. Be-'anged, if they 'ad such a firework at the Crystal Palace, they'd think their bloomin' fortunes was made!”
Captain Pratt, leaning far back, contemplated the dog-vane in an ecstasy of remembrance. ”

“ To make a whim serious, is poor taste. How many children in the slums will have Howard Blair to curse for dragging them into their wretched life, or keeping them in it afterward? None of that for me. In Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde you remember, there's a lawyer who says, 'I incline to Cain's heresy; I let my brother go to the devil his own way.’"
And Drummond waved the subject aside, to talk of Nason's prospects in New York.
By ten, the two men had said good-by; at eleven Billy had gone to bed in the little back room where Kimball was sleeping the sleep of exhaustion. ”

“ An' the agent comes down an' we 'as a row because 'e 'asn't 'is boys ready to 'andle cargo. So I tells me own crew to begin, an' pacifies 'em into it with a few pieces o' stingaree over the back; an' be the time we gets out sixty bags o' Saigon rice, along comes the agent's cargodores an' takes 'old. Then we discharges all our rice, an' begins to load copra. Work was goin' smart enough, when all to once, mind ye, the pantalan begins to shake like a mess o' jackstraws, an' fifty foot of it settled. ”

“ He had nearly been a coward that night; he had been a fool every day of his life. Sawyer's phrase, "pleasure in healing grievous disease," recurred to him with almost Biblical dignity. The sense of responsibility toward men and things began to crowd in upon him, to cry out within him so insistently, that he was amazed.
He wiped the sweat out of his eyes and turned to pack the handbag. ”

“ An' all this time the night black with ashes afore noon, an' them scramblin' an' yellin' an' tumblin' into bancas, an' red coals droppin' on deck, an' a cobweb o' tow-ropes over the stern, an' them thick as ants paddlin' to catch up. ”

“ An' in a lull o' the thunderin', I fired twice amongst the copra.
“One be one, they took it up, staggerin' with the bags an' pitchin' 'em on deck. Then comes the noise o' the agent runnin' down the pantalan like a bloomin' ghost, an'——
“'Shove off, shove off, cap'n!' 'e yells. 'The town's destroyed! We're lost!'
“'Young man,' I says, shoutin' back to where 'is voice come from in the dark, 'we're not a bloomin' gig-boat to be shoved. We'll drift out o' 'ere, be-'anged, on the 1.45 p.m. ebb-tide, God sendin' us wind to catch,' I says. ”

“ But just then, sure enough, out comes the Old Man 'imself from his private coop, an' says: 'Letter for you, Captain'—an' 'ands it over. An' my word, 'twas that big an' square, with figger'eads an' scrollwork. An' inside it says 'Captain Gregory Pratt (dear-sir) bein' informed that your schooner was the only vessel at Pacatlog durin' the recent'—but, rot! I can't mind the wordin' of it now, ye know. But it was all in the King's English, an' the substance was that some Padre Francisco or Tomasso or Bartolomeo wanted to talk the volcano over with me up at the Observat'ry'. ”

“ An' when 'e could find breath, 'e ups an' tells the Spaniard. And then if you could 'ave seen that long ghost fall to pieces laughin'!
“'Sure, the Padre thinks ye misundherstood me,' says Father Reilly at last. 'He has no control over the ilimints; he only makes raypoorts in the inthrest av sci'nce,' 'e says. 'An' he'll be obliged to ye, Captain, for an account o' what happened to the Pacatlog volcannyer. 'Tis a spicial pint o' the Padre's,' 'e says to me.
“'Why, she blew 'er 'ead off,' I tells 'im.
“'Faith, is that all?' says Father Reilly', lookin' disappointed like. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1939, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 84 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”