ready to take a turn about a cleat, when they
you an’ the little leddy.”
saw the glow of a cigarette spark as their
Even as the cook’s sentence had been
heads lifted above the rail. Their hands were
clipped, so was the drinking of the toast to
already on it, ready to go aboard. A catlike,
which Watterson had responded, standing
white-kilted figure, whose slant eyes shone by with his back to the companionway. He
the lighted binnacle lamp, glided toward them, caught sight first of the astounded look on
a long knife coming out of a girdle with swift Purdy’s hiccoughing features, taking in the
dexterity. It was the cook.
still more astounding fact that the mate was
“Wha’ fo’—?” he began, and never
allowing something to come between him and
finished that sentence. Tiri suddenly seemed
his liquor. He wanted Purdy to keep mellow
to materialize out of shadow. His club came
until his plans had been carried out. The Scot forward, too gently to hurt a fly, Bud fancied, lost his customary caution when properly
a stroking blow that braked its own force, and primed with alcohol, and would be better able
landed at the base of the cook’s skull. to help in the kidnaping which was forward, Instantly the man pitched forward on his together with Watterson’s plan of a personal hands, and as instantly Tiri stooped, advanced, revenge against the scarecrow sailor. He had
picked up his victim before he collapsed, and
done what few men could boast of, stood up to
deposited him neatly in the starboard Watterson in physical contest and not come scuppers.
off second best.
“Plenty quiet he stop,” he said in
Purdy’s jaw sagged, he slopped some
Bud’s ear. “No kill. Him all right bimeby.”
of the gin out of his glass. It was plain to
The three of them stood glued to the
Watterson that the cause of it was back of
deck, listened, trying to pierce the gloom him, and he started to whirl, his hand at the forward. They had left a light in the bungalow same time dropping to a gun with which he
to allay or prevent any suspicions. The had replaced the one captured by Bud. But the phonograph record ended. A man spoke in the
latter, retrieved and used by the girl, was now, cabin, thickly, with a Scotch burr.”
even as Watterson shifted his shoulders,
Short Stories
14
pressing its hard uncompromising muzzle
“I don’t want a word out of you,” he
between them.
went on. “Your mouth is too inclined to be
“Your own Colt, Watterson,” said dirty. You’ll do just what I say. You’ve Bud’s voice, almost cheerfully, but not probably swindled Miss Selwyn out of a good jestingly. “Put up your hands, and keep ’em
deal of money, first and last. She’s closing all that way. Mr. Purdy, you’re covered from the
transactions here and now with this deal.
skylight—so be good.”
We’ll tow you out to sea a way, and then you
The mate’s eyes, pale blue in their
can row back on the tide, and run things as
bloodshot whites, rolled upward to where you like. You’re getting out of it cheap. What Thelma Selwyn looked down through the you need is a dog-lash. I don’t want to twit a opening, her gun barrel resting on one of the
man who can’t talk back, so——”
brass protection rails.
He moved round the table, and
“Sit down at the table, Purdy,” Bud
searched Purdy for weapons, finding none.
went on. “Stretch your arms out in front of
Now he stood at one end of the table, a gun in you. Just a minute, Watterson, I want another
either hand. The girl had disappeared.
gem from you. May give it back to you later.
Suddenly he heard a shot, a hubbub forward,
All depends on the way you behave. You go
one deep voice shouting. Watterson hitched
sit opposite Purdy. Fix your arms the same
his shoulders as if to rise, but dropped them
way. Now cross ‘em, both of you—cross ’em
again as Bud’s right hand gunsight was
and join hands.
brought to bear between his eyes. Bud was
“I heard you two talking about Miss
torn with irresolution. The girl must have
Selwyn,” he added, his voice losing fired. She must have been in peril. The cook everything but menace. “Outside of your kind
might have revived, the men forward have—
intentions regarding me, I’d just as soon shoot
—
as not, Watterson,” he warned. “Just as
“Eyah!” That was Tiri, jubilant.
soon—and a little sooner.” He meant it, Appeals in native, clearly of surrender. The remembering the ribald flippancy with which
girl, pleading with Tiri.
they had planned to pretend to leave, and then
“That all right, Missy. No can break
return and dispose of both of them. He ached
that kind fella skull. Too much thick. Hi, you to batter Watterson into a pulp for his black fella, you make um gasket loose, catch rottenness, and his will leaped in his eyes and um mainsail—catch um jib. Anchor he come
twitched in his trigger finger.
up!”
The pair obeyed, their hands and wrists
There was the padding of bare feet on
forming a diamond hitch that left them deck in answer to the commands. The girl helpless, though Watterson was raging, and
came down the companionway behind him.
Purdy seemingly stupefied. But Bud kept an
“I had to shoot Fong in the shoulder,”
eye on the little mate whose eyes held a glint she said. “He came to and tried to knife me.
that suggested he was not quite as drunk as he We’ll send him ashore. I’ll do the cooking.”
acted.
Bud was watching Watterson
“We are going to put the partnership
narrowly. The man’s evil mind itched for
on the old basis, Watterson,” he said. “I’m
some way to express itself, to hurt the girl, to acting for Miss Selwyn. You get back the
malign Bud. He started a sneering grin, and
trading station end of it, and she takes the
checked it as his eyes caught the look in
schooner—also the copra—and what’s in that
Bud’s, coldly malicious as his own.
safe, outside of enough to pay the hands.
“Get
the
money
out of the safe,
The Pendulum of the Skull
15
Watterson,” Bud said. “All of it. How much
Watterson’s face.
do the wages amount to, Miss Selwyn?”
What was it? Counterfeit money? Or
“Nine hundred and sixty dollars, was the cash box empty? The ship’s money outside of Tiri.”
spent?
“Let him include Tiri.”
Watterson seemed to have trouble with
“Ninety
more.”
the key. The lid came up suddenly, screening
“One thousand and fifty. You don’t
his hands. Bud guessed the riddle as Purely,
have to pay this to the hands, Watterson, but it suddenly sober and alert, flipped up a hand,
will pay you to do it, so Miss Selwyn thinks
caught the neck of a bottle, and jerked it
you will. They are expecting it from you,
straight and hard at Bud’s head, while
anyway. Tiri told them you’d come ashore,
Patterson’s right hand came into view holding
and pay it with the cash. I imagine they’ll be an automatic he had taken from the cashbox.
uneasy till they get it.”
Two shots, a crash of glass, then two
“I’m going up on deck again to take
more shots, blended in continuous sound
her outside,” said the girl. “There’ll be three before the girl came leaping down the
men to go back with them, besides Fong. The
companion way. Bud had struck at the flying
rest will come with us. I’ll give Tiri the wheel bottle with his left hand gun, shattering it,
as soon as we are clear and come below
even as his right hand pulled trigger
again.”
simultaneously with the discharge of
Watterson rose slowly as she Watterson’s automatic.
disappeared. His eyes were venomous. He
A bullet got him in the left shoulder,
looked at Bud like a balked devil, then at
twisting him with the heavy impact. But he
Purdy, and went towards the safe, squatting
saw Watterson, with a curious look of surprise before it, twirling the dial. Bud heard Purdy’s on his face, fire again, and send the lead
hard breathing. He had seen the look pass
through the top of the table before he slid
between the mate and Watterson, and he was
down to his chair seat and then the floor, a
on his guard against something, not sure of
leering, foolish grin like that of an idiot’s, what it might be.
blood breaking out high above his right eye.
Watterson turned round with a tin
His gun fell on the table. With almost
cash-box in his hands, and put it down on the
incredible agility Purdy flung a heavy tumbler table.
after the bottle, and reached for Watterson’s
“You can open it,” he said sullenly.
weapon. The tumbler caught Bud on the jaw,
“There’s my keys. But it’s plain piracy.”
and the cabin whirled in a fog as he
To open it Bud would have to put
convulsively squeezed the trigger—and
down one gun, more or less occupy both missed. The bullet flew high while Bud hands. There was a trick here, but it seemed
tottered back, slumping to a transom,
palpable.
struggling against unconsciousness.
“You open it,” he said. “And count off
He came to, with his head in the girl’s
what you need; I’ll check it.”
lap, his face wet with fresh water, the blood-
Watterson bent his head over his task.
sodden sleeve of his coat ripped out at the
But not before there had been another glance
shoulder, and his flesh bared to the wound.
between him and Purdy who—too suddenly—
Her hands were at work, her fingers probing
showed signs of drunken stupor and gently but firmly where the lead had torn drowsiness. And not before Bud fancied he
through. A twinge of pain had brought him
had seen a swift gleam of triumph pass over
back again to see pain of another sort in her
Short Stories
16
eyes, big in her pale, strained face, to see
beach the wharf and the lighted bungalow, as
something else there that was not hard to
the schooner, on the first of the ebb, the land translate.
wind in her sails, slid through the reefgate to
“Don’t move yet,” she said.
the open sea.
“I don’t want to move—ever,” he
murmured, knowing he was foolish, content to
IT WAS three days later before Bud made
be so before he pulled himself together and
confession. His shoulder was stiff, but it did glanced round. Purdy sat on the opposite not pain him particularly, and the wound was transom with a face the hue of cigar ashes,
healing at first intention. He took it easy in the holding his right forearm that was sopping
cockpit, unable to assist, watching the smart
with blood. Thelma Selwyn had shot him handling of the schooner by the girl who, with before he could fire at Bud.
Tiri for mate, made no trouble of it. She could Tiri had what seemed to be the dead
navigate also; she could do a lot of things that body of Watterson in his brawny arms, made Bud feel particularly humble.
depositing him on the transom beside Purdy,
The glamor was still over things. They
bending over for examination.
were alone together in a world of sunshine and
“He not dead, Missy,” he said in tones
fresh wind, of blue seas and sparkling foam—
of distinct disappointment. “Too much luck
man and maid who had adventured together,
for him. No crack but plenty headache and who trusted each other. “Is there real bimeby.”
money in independent trading, picking up
After all, the casualties were not so
cargoes with a schooner?” he asked her, after
serious that they felt compunction about he had figured out a hundred ways of working sending them ashore. Blood poisoning was the
up to his subject—and abandoning them.
only thing to fear, and there were plenty of
“A living,” she said. “It depends a
disinfectants in the station kit. Tiri had found great deal on goodwill. The big firms like
it necessary to club two of the crew before a
Burns Philp have all the best of it, of course.
third capitulated, and the rest—original And we only have a short season for copra.
members—recognized him, and joined the You have to make out with pearlshell, beche cause of the daughter of their former de mer and sharks’ fins. Through the rainy skipper—the girl who had acted as mate and
season you have to lay up.
whom they liked and respected far more than
“Of course if one has capital, and can
Watterson and Purdy. The thick skulls of the
pay expenses for seven years while the palms
natives, buffered by their mats of hair, had
grow to maturity, you can lease land cheaply,
saved them from fracture, and they were and then every tree is worth almost two able—with the third man who, as their fellow
dollars a year to you, if you make oil from the tribesman, was left behind, leaving the copra. That all means machinery. And it’s a schooner purged of all possible malcontents—
long time to wait.”
to place Watterson with his gouged skull
“If one was alone—yes,” said Bud.
bandaged, Purdy, with his bleeding stopped
The girl looked at him questioningly. It was
with a tourniquet and Fong, with his shoulder
the end of the day, and the sea was darkening
given first aid, into the shore dinghy.
with sunset, the curving horizon a wavy line
In consideration of the wounds Bud
of purple, the sky beginning to glow, Tiri at
and the girl gave up the plan to tow Watterson the wheel, his broad back, wealed with tribal
and his followers to sea. They cast them off,
scars and fight records, toward them.
watching them paddle shoreward toward the
“You see,” said Bud, his voice
&
nbsp; The Pendulum of the Skull
17
trembling a little with his earnestness, and
And in June—pretty soon
with his swiftly growing fear of the outcome
On a long honeymoon
now that he was going to put things to the
Where the sweet, climbing roses
touch, “I don’t amount to much, Thelma. I
entwine.
was shanghaid aboard that whaler because I
thought it was a clever thing to take in the San She turned and looked at him, her lips
Francisco waterfront and try to sample all the a little apart, her breathing a little hurried, her rotten booze we ran across. There was a fight, eyes——
of course, and I believe I started it. I wound up
“Would you, could you, Thelma?” he
in the fo’c’sle of the Flying Cloud.
asked her.
“But there wasn’t a girl mixed up in it.
Tiri and the native boys did not bother
I’ve petted and fussed, but it always seemed to about cooked meals. They had dried fish,
me that I’d run across the right one some day, green coconuts and fruit. The fact that supper-and that she’d feel the same way about it—
time passed in the cabin without any
that we’d been on the way to meet each other
preparations did not upset their arrangements
all the time. That sounds almost crazy, but it’s and Tiri, munching a strip of sun-cured squid
the way I felt about you from the beginning.
he took from his loincloth, made no objections
“I left a car standing somewhere on
to the fact that, under ordinary circumstances, Kearney Street—eight weeks ago. I wonder
his skipper-mistress should have relieved him
who’s got it now? Not that I worry. This
The Pendulum of the Skull by J Page 4
