by Don Marquis
CHAPTER VII
FIRST BLOOD FOR CLEGGETT
As his feet struck the top of the rubbish heap in the hold of thevessel, Cleggett stumbled and staggered forward. But he did not let goof his revolver.
Perhaps he would not have fallen, but the Pomeranian, which had leapedinto the hold after him, yelping like a terrier at a rat hunt, ranbetween his legs and tripped him.
"Damn the dog!" cried Cleggett, going down.
But the fall probably saved his life, for as he spoke two pistol shotsrang out simultaneously from the forward part of the hold. The bulletspassed over his head. Raising himself on his elbow, Cleggett firedrapidly three times, aiming at the place where a spurt of flame hadcome from.
A cry answered him, and he knew that at least one of his bullets hadtaken effect. He rose to his feet and plunged forward, firing again,and at the same instant another bullet grazed his temple.
The next few seconds were a wild confusion of yelping dog, shouts,curses, shots that roared like the explosion of big guns in thatpent-up and restricted place, stinking powder, and streaks of fire thatlaced themselves across the darkness. But only a single pistol repliedto Cleggett's now and he was confident that one of the men was out ofthe fight.
But the other man, blindly or with intention, was stumbling nearer ashe fired. A bullet creased Cleggett's shoulder; it was fired so closeto him that he felt the heat of the exploding powder; and in the suddenglow of light he got a swift and vivid glimpse of a white face framedin long black hair, and of flashing white teeth beneath a lifted lipthat twitched. The face was almost within touching distance; as itvanished Cleggett heard the sharp, whistling intake of the fellow'sbreath--and then a click that told him the other's last cartridge wasgone. Cleggett clubbed his pistol and leaped forward, striking at theplace where the gleaming teeth had been. His blow missed; he spunaround with the force of it. As he steadied himself to shoot again heheard a rush behind him and knew that his men had come to hisassistance.
"Collar him!" he cried. "Don't shoot, or----"
But he did not finish that sentence. A thousand lights danced beforehis eyes, Niagara roared in his ears for an instant, and he knew nomore. His adversary had laid him out with the butt of a pistol.
Cleggett was not that inconsiderable sort of a man who is killed in anytrivial skirmish: There was a moment at the bridge of Arcole whenNapoleon, wounded and flung into a ditch, appeared to be lost. Butwhen Nature, often so stupid, really does take stock and become awarethat she has created an eagle she does not permit that eagle to bekilled before its wings are fledged. Napoleon was picked out of theditch. Cleggett was only stunned.
Both were saved for larger triumphs. The association of names is notaccidental. These two men were, in some respects, not dissimilar,although Bonaparte lacked Cleggett's breeding.
When Cleggett regained consciousness he was on deck; George, Kuroki andCap'n Abernethy stood about him in a little semicircle of anxiety; LadyAgatha was applying a cold compress to the bump upon his head. (Hemade nothing of his other scratches.) As for Elmer, who had notstirred from his seat on the oblong box, he moodily regarded, notCleggett, but a slight young fellow with long black hair, who laymotionless upon the deck.
Cleggett struggled to his feet. "Is he dead?" he asked, pointing tothe figure of his recent assailant. Cap'n Abernethy, for the firsttime since Cleggett had known him, gave a direct answer to a question.
"Mighty nigh it," he said, staring down at the young man. Then headded: "Kind o' innocent lookin' young fellow, at that."
"But the other one? Was he killed?" asked Cleggett.
"The other?" George inquired. "But there was no other. When we gotdown there you and this boy----" And George described the strugglethat had taken place after Cleggett had lost consciousness. The wholeaffair, as far as it concerned Cleggett, had been a matter of secondsrather than minutes; it was begun and over like a hundred yard dash onthe cinder track. When George and Kuroki and Cap'n Abernethy hadtumbled into the hold they had been afraid to shoot for fear of hittingCleggett; they had reached him, guided by his voice, just as he wentdown under his assailant's pistol. They had not subdued the youthuntil he had suffered severely from George's dagger. Later they learnedthat one of Cleggett's bullets had also found him. Cleggett listened tothe end, and then he said:
"But there WERE two men in the hold. And one of them, dead or wounded,must still be down there. Carry this fellow into theforecastle--we'll look at him later. Then bring some lanterns. We aregoing down into that hold again."
With their pistols in their right hands and lanterns in their left theydescended, Cleggett first. It was not impossible that the otherintruder might be lying, wounded, but revived enough by now to work apistol, behind one of the rubbish heaps.
But no shots greeted them. The hold of the Jasper B. was not dividedinto compartments of any sort. If it had ever had them, they had beentorn away. Below deck, except for the rubbish heap and the steps forthe masts, she was empty as a soup tureen. The pile of debris was thehighest toward the waist of the vessel. There it formed a treacheroushill of junk; this hill sloped downward towards the bow and towards thestern; in both the fore and after parts, under the forecastle and thecabin, there were comparatively clear spaces.
The four men forced their way back towards the stern and then cameslowly forward in a line that extended across the vessel, exploringwith their lanterns every inch of the precarious footing, andoverturning and looking behind, under, and into every box, cask, orjumble of planking that might possibly offer a place of concealment.They found no one. And, until they reached a clearer place, wellforward, on the starboard side of the ship, they found no trace ofanyone.
Cleggett, who was examining this place, suddenly uttered an exclamationwhich brought the others to him. He pointed to stains of blood uponthe planking; near these stains were marks left by boots which had beengaumed with a yellowish clay. A revolver lay on the floor. Cleggettexamined it and found that only one cartridge had been exploded. Thestains of blood and the stains of yellow clay made an easily followedtrail for some yards to a point about halfway between the bow and sternon the starboard side.
There, in the waist of the vessel, they ceased; ceased abruptly,mysteriously. Cleggett, not content, made his men go over the placeagain, even more thoroughly than before. But there was no one there,dead or wounded, unless he had succeeded in contracting himself to thedimensions of a rat.
"There is nothing," said Cleggett, standing by the ladder that led upto the deck. "Nothing," echoed George; and then as if with oneimpulse, and moved by the same eerie thought, these four men suddenlyraised their lanterns head-high and gazed at one another.
A startled look spread from face to face. But no one spoke. There wasno need to. All recognized that they were in the presence of anapparent impossibility. Yet this seemingly impossible thing was thefact. There had been two men in the hold of the Jasper B. They hadentered as mysteriously and silently as disembodied spirits might havedone. One of them, wounded, had made his exit in the same baffling way.Where? How?
Cleggett broke the silence.
"Let us go to the forecastle and have a look at that fellow," he said,and led the way.
No one lagged as they left the hold. These were all brave men, butthere are times when the invisible, the incomprehensible, will send amomentary chill to the heart of the most intrepid.
Cleggett found Lady Agatha, her own troubles for the time forgotten, inthe forecastle. She had lighted a lamp and was bending over thewounded man, whose coat and waistcoat she had removed. His clothing wasa sop of blood. They cut his shirt and undershirt from him. Kurokibrought water and the medicine chest and surgical outfit with whichCleggett had provided the Jasper B. They examined his wounds, LadyAgatha, with a fine seriousness and a deft touch which claimedCleggett's admiration, washing them herself and proceeding to stop theflow of blood.
"Oh, I am not an altogether useless person," she said, with a momen
tarysmile, as she saw the look in Cleggett's face. And Cleggett rememberedwith shame that he had not thanked her for her ministrations to himself.
A pistol bullet had gone quite through the young man's shoulder. Therewas a deep cut on his head, and there were half a dozen other stabwounds on his body. George had evidently worked with great rapidity inthe hold.
In the inside breast pocket of his coat he had carried a thin andnarrow little book. There was a dagger thrust clear through it; if thebook had not been there this terrible blow delivered by the son ofLeonidas must inevitably have penetrated the lung.
Cleggett opened the book. It was entitled "Songs of Liberty, byGiuseppe Jones." The verse was written in the manner of Walt Whitman.A glance at one of the sprawling poems showed Cleggett that insentiment it was of the most violent and incendiary character.
"Why, he is an anarchist!" said Cleggett in surprise.
"Oh, really!" Lady Agatha looked up from her work of mercy and spokewith animation, and then gazed upon the youth's face again with a newinterest. "An anarchist! How interesting! I have ALWAYS wanted tomeet an anarchist."
"Poor boy, he don't look like nothin' bad," said Cap'n Abernethy, whoseemed to have taken a fancy to Giuseppe Jones.
"Listen," said Cleggett, and read:
"As for your flag, I spit upon your flag! I spit upon your organized society anywhere and everywhere; I spit upon your churches; I spit upon your capitalistic institutions; I spit upon your laws; I spit upon the whole damned thing! But, as I spit, I weep! I weep!"
"How silly!" said Lady Agatha. "What does it mean?"
"It means----" began Cleggett, and then stopped. The book ofrevolutionary verse, taken in conjunction with the red flag that hadbeen displayed and then withdrawn, made him wonder if Morris's were theheadquarters of some band of anarchists.
But, if so, why should this band show such an interest in the JasperB.? An interest so hostile to her present owner and his men?
"If you was to ask me what it means," said Captain Abernethy, who hadtaken the book and was fingering it, "I'd say it means young Jones herehas fell into bad company. That don't explain how he sneaked into thehold of the Jasper B., nor what for. But he orter have a doctor."
"He shall have a physician," said Cleggett. "In fact, the Jasper B.needs a ship's doctor."
"It looks to me," said Captain Abernethy, "as if she did. And if youwas to go further, Mr. Cleggett, and say that it looks as if she wasliable to need a couple o' trained nurses, too, I'd say to you that ifthey's goin' to be many o' these kind o' goin's-on aboard of her sheDOES need a couple of trained nurses."
"Captain," said Cleggett, "you are a humane man--let me shake yourhand. You have voiced my very thought!"
Long ago Cleggett had resolved that if Chance or Providence should evergratify his secret wish to participate in stirring adventures, he wouldsee to it that all his wounded enemies, no matter how many there mightbe of them, received adequate medical attention. He had often beenshocked at the callousness with which so many of the heroes of romancedash blithely into the next adventure--though those whom they haveseriously injured lie on all sides of them as thick as autumnleaves--with only the most perfunctory consideration of these victims;sometimes, indeed, with no thought of them at all.
"Something tells me," said Cleggett seriously, "that this intrusion ofarmed men is only a prelude. I have little doubt of the hostility ofMorris's; I am sure that the men who hid in the hold are spies fromMorris's. I do not yet know the motive for this hostility. But theJasper B. is in the midst of dangers and mysteries. There is before usan affair of some magnitude. Ere the Jasper B. sets sail for the ChinaSeas, there may be many wounds."
And then he began to outline a plan that had flashed, full formed, intohis mind. It was to rent, or purchase, the buildings at Parker'sBeach, and fit them up as a field hospital, with three or four nursesin charge. Lady Agatha, who had been listening intently, interrupted.
"But--the China Seas," she said. "Did I understand you to say thatyou intend to set sail for the China Seas?"
"That is the ultimate destination of the Jasper B." said Cleggett.
"I have heard--it seems to me that I have heard--that it's a verydangerous place," ventured Lady Agatha. "Pirates, you know, and allthat sort of thing."
"Pirates," said Cleggett, "abound."
"Well, then," persisted Lady Agatha, "you are going out to fight them?"
"I should not be surprised," said Cleggett, folding his arms, andstanding with his feet spread just a trifle wider than usual, "if theJasper B. had a brush or two with them. A brush or two!"
Lady Agatha regarded him speculatively. But admiringly, too.
"But those nurses----" she said. "If you're going to the China Seasyou can't very well take Parker's Beach along."
"I was coming to that," said Cleggett, bowing. "I contemplate ahospital ship--a vessel supplied with nurses and lint and medicines,that will accompany the Jasper B., and fly the Red Cross flag."
"But they are frightful people, really, those Chinese pirates, youknow," said Lady Agatha. "Do you think they'll quite appreciate ahospital ship?"
"It is my duty," said Cleggett, simply. "Whether they appreciate it ornot, a hospital ship they shall have. This is the twentieth century.And although the great spirits of other days had much to commend them,it is not to be denied that they knew little of our modernhumanitarianism. It has remained for the twentieth century to developthat. And one owes a duty to one's epoch as well as to one'sindividuality."
"But," repeated Lady Agatha, with a meditative frown, "they are reallyFRIGHTFUL people!"
"There is good in all men," said Cleggett, "even in those whom thestern necessities of idealism sentence to death. And I have no doubtthat many a Chinese pirate would, under other circumstances, havedeveloped into a very contented and useful laundry-man."
Lady Agatha studied him intently for a moment. "Mr. Cleggett," shesaid, "if you will permit me to say so, a great suffragist leader waslost when fate made you a man."
"Thank you," said Cleggett, bowing again.
He dispatched George--a person of address as well as a fighter in whomthe blood of ancient Greece ran quick and strong--on a humanitarianmission. George was to walk a mile to the trolley line, go toFairport, hire a taxicab, and make all possible speed into Manhattan.There he was to communicate with a young physician of Cleggett'sacquaintance, Dr. Harry Farnsworth.
Dr. Farnsworth, as Cleggett knew, was just out of medical school. Hehad his degree, but no patients. But he was bold and ready. He was, inshort, just the lad to welcome with enthusiasm such a chance for activeservice as the cruise of the Jasper B. promised to afford.
It was something of a risk to weaken his little party by sending Georgeaway for several hours. But Cleggett did not hesitate. He was not theman to allow considerations of personal safety to outweigh his devotionto an ideal.
"And now," said Cleggett, turning to Lady Agatha, who had hearkened tohis orders to George with a bright smile of approval, "we will dine,and I will hear the rest of your story, which was so rudelyinterrupted. It is possible that together we may be able to find somesolution of your problem."
"Dine!" exclaimed Lady Agatha, eagerly. "Yes, let us dine! It maysound incredible to you, Mr. Cleggett, that the daughter of an Englishpeer and the widow of a baronet should confess that, except for yourtea, she has scarcely eaten for twenty-four hours--but it is so!"
Then she said, sadly, with a sigh and sidelong glance at the box ofReginald Maltravers which stood near the cabin companionway drippingcoldly: "Until now, Mr. Cleggett--until your aid had given me freshhope and strength--I had, indeed, very little appetite."
Cleggett followed her gaze, and it must be admitted that he himselfexperienced a momentary sense of depression at the sight of the box ofReginald Maltravers. It looked so damp, it looked so chill, it lookedso starkly and patiently and malevolently watchful of himself and
LadyAgatha. In a flash his lively fancy furnished him with a picture ofthe box of Reginald Maltravers suddenly springing upright and hoppingtowards him on one end with a series of stiff jumps that would senddrops of moisture flying from the cracks and seams and make the iceinside of it clink and tinkle. And the mournful Elmer, now drowsingcallously over his charge, was not an invitation to be blithe. IfCleggett himself were so affected (he mused) what must be the effect ofthe box of Reginald Maltravers upon sensibilities as fine and delicateas those of a woman like Lady Agatha Fairhaven?
"Could I--if I might----" Lady Agatha hesitated, with a glance towardsthe cabin. Cleggett instantly divined her thought; for brief as wastheir acquaintance, there was an almost psychic accord between his mindand hers, and he felt himself already answering to her unspoken wish asa ship to its rudder.
"The cabin is at your service," said Cleggett, for he understood thatshe wished to dress for dinner. He conducted her, with a touch offormality, to his own room in the cabin, which he put at her disposal,ordering her steamer trunks to be placed in it. Then, taking with himsome necessaries of his own, he withdrew to the forecastle to make acareful toilet.
It might not have occurred to another man to dress for dinner, butCleggett's character was an unusual blend of delicacy and strength; heperceived subtly that Lady Agatha was of the nature to appreciate thiscompliment. At a moment when her fortunes were at a low ebb what couldmore cheer a woman and hearten her than such a mark of consideration?Already Cleggett found himself asking what would please Lady Agatha.
