Fighting Byng: A Novel of Mystery, Intrigue and Adventure

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Fighting Byng: A Novel of Mystery, Intrigue and Adventure Page 12

by A. Stone


  CHAPTER XII

  Shooting alligators is one thing in which I have never indulged, and Iwatched the show with undisguised wonder and admiration. Discoveringthat the little rifle expert was a girl excited me, and as she camecloser she eyed me critically from shoes to hat. Then I observed thatshe was older than I first thought.

  "I wouldn't want you to shoot at me," I said, attempting to put her atease. I could detect a sort of distrust in her clear gray eyes.

  "I never miss a 'gator, if that's what you mean," said she, toyingwith her rifle and reassured by my voice. "I've been shooting 'gatorsall my life."

  "I think it's wonderful; few men could do as well."

  Still doubting, she smiled slightly and continued to study my face, mytropical clothes, even my shoes.

  "Mr. Canby is not about?" I asked as I smiled down upon her.

  "No, Daddy went away before daylight," and turning away to glance outtoward the Gulf added, as if reassured, "The weather is good and Idon't know when to expect him." Then her innate courtesy moved her. Ifelt that if she raised her rifle and shot me through she would do sodelicately--she could not be vulgar, her straight-chiseled nosesettled that.

  "Won't you have a seat?" she asked, pointing to a rustic table andsome chairs worked out of wreckage which stood in the center of theveranda. I thanked her and sat down, while she hung timidly on theedge of a chair opposite, trying to account for my presence.

  "Don't you get lonesome and feel afraid here all alone?"

  "No, I'm never afraid, and Don is always here. At the end of the weekthe harbor is full of boats coming in to trade. I can protect myself.A long time ago my father taught me how to shoot with a rifle and apistol, and also to use a knife. The knife's for sharks, though."

  "Then your father is not here much?" I ventured.

  "No--lately he lets me run the store, and he goes away to buy sponges,'gators' hides and sharkskins."

  "Where does he sell his stock?"

  "Well, I don't exactly know--sometimes in Key West, sometimes inTampa, sometimes in Havana. He takes the skins and hides to thetannery. What do you want to see my father for?" she suddenly asked,looking straight at me.

  I was off my guard. A man's question would have been easy. I knew thatto make any progress I must satisfactorily answer that question atonce, and instantly I thought of Ike Barry.

  "I came to sell him some goods," I replied calmly.

  "What kind of goods do you sell?"

  "Hardware and ship chandlery--from New York," I added, so that shewould not ask the name of the house--as I wasn't sure what house IkeBarry represented.

  "I am sorry you did not let him know you were coming, so he would havebeen here. We do need goods. Trade has been good lately and we are outof a great many things," she replied, much relieved at being able tofix my status. She continued, "Have you ever seen our store? We havemade it bigger lately and have much more room. Come in and I will showyou."

  I saw danger in this. She might ask me prices. If she did I wasstumped. But I walked along with her through the store, she pointingout empty shelves and enumerating articles wanted, showing aprecocious knowledge of goods, but, continuing her role of hostess,talking freely.

  "You see, Daddy makes friends with everyone, especially the fishermen,and they come here instead of going to Key West as they used to. Theysay we sell for less, and all on the Gulf side trade at our store. Wehave been a long time building up our business. Daddy is very proud ofit and likes to give them good things, just what they want," she said,with a naivette delightfully refreshing.

  I don't know why I stared at the child so long. I was somehowbeginning to like her. She interested me, and I began to feel asthough I would hate to find anything wrong with her father to whom shereferred so affectionately.

  When we started back to the veranda I asked if she had any cigars. Iwas dying for a smoke.

  "Our trade don't smoke cigars; they want only smoking and plugtobacco, but I can give you some out of Daddy's private box; he alwayskeeps them for himself."

  From a shelf she handed me a box and insisted on my taking enough tolast a while, saying that it was her treat. I was surprised to seefrom the factory number they were an expensive popular brand made inNew York.

  "Now you must come out in my garden. Daddy and I have the greatest funwith the flowers. If I didn't have them I would grow very lonesome.They are my friends and are just like nice people; they talk to me,"she went on, now entirely free from restraint. Her flowers were reallymore wonderful than they seemed at first.

  Along the high-tide mark was a trimmed hedge of stunted mangrove treeswith their ariel prop roots carefully trained into a fence; next tothat was a row of most beautiful water lilies, seemingly everblooming, as white as the soul of the girl who pointed them out withso much pride and joy.

  "You see," she explained with artless simplicity, "one time our gardenwas nothing but jagged rocks and coral that grows to look likeflowers. Don had to carry mud out of the water to make soil before wecould do any planting. That is why I wanted to get that 'gator; hewallows them down and abuses them, and Daddy says that every 'gator'shide I get will keep me in school for a month, and, you see, beforelong I'm going away up North to school. Do you know anything about theschools up there?" she looked up at me eagerly for my answer.

  "No--I don't know much about the schools, but I can easily find outfor you," I replied.

  "Oh--I hate to think of leaving Daddy here alone, but he says--I must.I often lay in bed by the window where I can see the stars, the Northstar, and wonder if people I will meet there are as nice as my flowersand if the great cities are as beautiful as the forests and caves Isee at the bottom of the sea when I dive for sponges."

  I stopped and looked at her, astonished. Evidently she divined thequestion I would ask.

  "Oh, yes, ever since I was a child and until lately I have gone withDaddy sponging, and can stay down longer than he can--he stays longerthan anyone else. Of late he won't let me go. He says I stay down toolong. But I just can't help it, for I see such beautiful things downthere, great ferns as big as trees, streets, parks in so many colorsabout which I can only dream and can't describe. I feel so happy Idon't want to come up, and sometimes he has to give me oxygen to bringme to. He is afraid something will happen to me so he won't let me goany more--only once in a while, in shallow water."

  I saw the smoke of a train in the north and looked at my watch.

  "I am sorry to leave but I must catch this train. It will stop forme."

  It was like drawing her back from another world. Visibly disappointed,she started toward the store. "How did you get the train to stop here?It never did before. The trains run past here as though they wereafraid," she said, more as audible thought. "Are you coming back?" sheasked wistfully.

  "Yes, I will come to-morrow," I replied. Then swung on the train andwaved back at the lonely little figure standing beside the track.

  I dropped into a seat, thoughtful indeed. If there was anything wrongwith that little girl, her father and his business, then my years oftraining had been wasted. I thought of what the judge told me when hegave me the warrants. On the way back to Key West I formed a plan.

  In front of the hotel in Key West I found Ike Barry. "Ike, you sellfrom a catalog, don't you?"

  "Yes--why?"

  "If you will loan me your catalog I'll get an order to-morrow, andwon't charge you anything but some smokes."

  Ike was agreeable and explained the uniform discount on the catalogprice as we drank at the soda fountain.

  I was hurrying to my room to change back to working clothes, when Isaw Scotty of the night before, in the lobby. He was in good clothesand bad liquor, or both. I tried to dodge him until I could get backin working garb but the light of recognition appeared in the littleeyes under the deep shelf. He arose and stood near me. I was sure ofthe liquor then and it did not take long to develop the trouble.

  "I had half a slant after you had gone last night that this was yourlay," he be
gan, after we were seated in a corner of the bar room.

  "It's pretty hard to fool the Scotch," I observed as he poured outBlack and White, and watched me fill a glass with gin as full as thewater glasses beside it. But he did not see me change the glasses anddrink the water instead of the liquor.

  "Scotty, you seem troubled. How is it you are all dressed up insteadof burning gasoline on the blue?"

  "Think I'm in bad," he said, eyeing me closely. "I've had me doots,and your nosing around settles it."

  "Scotty--you saw enough last night to know I have a first-classlicense for the U. S. N. I have served," I continued, as he poured outmore Black and White, "and can convince you I have worked as afirst-class mechanic in the German and French shipyards."

  "Think you did--I know you did--and all the time was using anothertool on paper that went to Washington. But I believe you are on thelevel for all that, and I don't mind telling----"

  "Then, Scotty, what's the use of being so tight? Will you tell mesomething?"

  "Weel--weel--maybe," with a vicious glitter as he glanced down at hisempty glass.

  "Tell me how you know so well where this man Canby's place is up onthe Keys?" I asked, ordering again.

  "I might have told you that last night, but ye never asked me, andthat has a lot to do with me just now. I don't like the way things aregoing with Bulow and Company. In fact, I'm downright suspicious, andI'm ready to throw up me job."

  "Now you're getting down to it. What do you know about Canby?"

  "You see, I've been with this Bulow job near five years. Since the oldman died and this manager came in things have not been goin' right.Some time ago there comes a pink-cheeked, taller-bellied chap, Inever did know his name, or just who he is. The firm has always beensore on Canby, because he's been takin' spongers' trade from them. Butlately there is somethin' else. And it's him you want to know about?"

  "Yes, I especially want to know about him--just now."

  "No one seems to know how he got up there on the bare Keys," repliedScotty. "One morning the manager and our big-waisted pink-cheek camedown to the dock in a devil of a sweat to get away up the Keys on theGulf side. When we got opposite Canby's he ordered me to make thelittle bay and Canby's wharf. It was a bad place to get, drawing asmuch water as we did, but I got alongside the little wharf inside allright and made fast.

  "The two of them looked about a bit, but no one was to be seen. Theywalked up to the store, went inside for a little while, and thenreturned. The manager said both Canby and the girl were away and thenigger was asleep somewhere. Then they began looking sharp about thelittle warehouse on the end of the wharf. But it was shut tight.

  "The manager asked me for a short pinch bar I always keep and I handedit to 'beer-tub.' He was fussing with it and raised his left hand tohold the padlock while he was prying with his right when of a suddenthere was a shot. I could see it came from the second story.'Beer-tub' came rushing aboard with the manager, his hand bleeding,scared stiff, like the hell of a coward he is, and ordered me to getaway quick. The shot had gone clear through his fat, dumpy, soft handlike a skewer through a roast of beef. It's bandaged yet. Now what didhe want there? How did he know the Canby boat, the fast one I wastelling you about, was at the Tortugas at exactly that time? It wasthe damn girl, they said, who did the shooting--they talk of how shecan split a dime with a pistol every shot at a hundred yards."

  I yawned, as if my interest was at an end, and, noting his droopingeyelids, got up and walked around for a while until he could regainhimself.

 

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