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The Blood Ship

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 3302    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

e sick, and I did not find the painted Jezebels of sailor-town attractive. But ships were my life, and I lent a ready ear to the gossip about them. To tell the truth

most of them were that I permit them to help me spend my money. I hadn't been asho

oston; the Glory of the Seas would sail within the fortnight for the United Kingdom; there were a half-dozen other smart ships wishing to be manned

s violently as possibl

as proud of myself.

of a little Jewess, with the sweet face of a Madonna and the eyes of a wanton. Well-she smiled on me. She h

ncied raiding of his property. We had it out with bare knuckles in the Swede's big back room, with all the little tables pushed against the wall to make fighting space, and the toughes

y head emerged, I beheld my late antagonist slinking away before the threatening figure of the man with the scar. The bully's right arm dangled by his side, limp and broken, and

nd remarked, "You must never take your eyes off one of that breed!" Then he resumed his seat at

a momentary diversion in the Swede's place. Five minutes after he left the room, the whipped bully left the est

others-that crowd of rough, tough men-clapped me respectfully upon the back, felt gingerly of my biceps, and swore loudly and luridly I was the best ma

ughs who were swilling away the money I had worked for. But his open contempt of them was not resented, even at the height of the orgy. They were hard cases, rough, tough fighting men, but they gave the b

he lonely table. "He has the house bluffed. Bet you the Swede doesn't

eless yet grand air of the man, the something about him that lifted him above the

d. "But he is so pale-and that scar-I guess he is just

ng over my innocence, and I didn't relish being innocent. "Just out of hospital!" she m

at?" I d

. "No, I'll not preach, not even to yo

ng long enough to toss my last ten dollars ac

e the poor beggar a chance!" they sang out. "Let him rest up a spell, Swede!" But the Swede h

im, "but, remember this, Swede

ly upon me, as though I had just cracked an excellent joke. "Oh, ja, you pick him yourself," he chor

curtains. For an instant I looked into the unplumbed abyss of the man's soul, and I felt the full impact of his ruthless, powerful mind. I

veather, good times, ja. You thump mine roonar, you take his v

infantile innocence. His fat smooth jowls quivered,

n avowed candidate for the runner's job. My mind was filled with confused, tingling thoughts. Oh, I was a man, right enough, to be singled out by the Knitting Swede for his chief lieutenancy. I was a hard case, a proper nut, to have

realized clearly enough I would only be happy with the feel of a deck beneath my feet, and the breath of open water in my nostrils. I was of the sea, and for the sea. And if anything

clearly just what the Swede's offer meant: to spend my days in evil living, my drugged will twisted about the slim, dishonest fing

proper ship, Swede,

asp of astonishment. It was unbelievable to those bullies that such an offer could be turned down. A sailorman refusing unlimited opportunities for

he wasn't going to allow the Swede to overlook his peculiar qual

. I stepped back, and my coat was already on the floor by the time the Swede had a ch

eed to fight, and get smashed sick. To-night I

was the very "proper blushin' bloke" for the berth. The crowd straightway lost all interest in the runnership; they had another se

wede, or in any way under his thumb (and I suspect every man Jack of them was under his thumb in some fashion or other), quaked in his boo

e to ship by the Golden Bough! There ban easy

shout from the whole crowd submer

"Aye, plenty o' belaying-pin

other. "In your watch be

oke up a third. "They eats a sail

the Golden Bou

wede?" calle

stiffs-and some sailor

ut a few tried sailormen must go to leaven that sodden, sea-ignorant lump. It was like condemning men to penal servitude. No wonder they swore.

ough was the heroine of the other half. I knew of the ship, the most notorious blood-ship afloat, and the queen of all the speedy clippers. I knew of her captain, the black-hearted, silky-voiced Yankee Swope, who boasted he never had to pay off a crew; I knew of her two mates, Fitzgibbon a

ed a man's estate in sailordom. Already I was a marked man. Had I not stopped at the Knitting Swede's, and ruffled on equality with the har

the ambitious young lads regularly shipped in the hot clippers; it was a postgraduate course in seamanship, and accomplishment of such a voyage gave one a standing with his fellows. I had intended going in one-in the Enterprise, or the Glo

eaf to all save my own swirling thoughts. And

haken out of his careless humor. He was standing tensely on the balls of his feet, and his hands were gripping the bar rail so fiercely his fingers seemed white and bloodless. It was apparent some

the lady. They spoke of the ship's mystery, of the Captain's lady. She was a character to pique a sailorman's interest, the Lady of the Golden Bough. Her f

cabin boy. They even eats separate. . . . He's nasty to her-I've heard the devil snarl at her more than once, when I've had a wheel. . . . Blank me, she's a blessed angel. There was I with a

what chummed with the bloke as was a Sails on her one voyage. He

e his elevation to the dignity of runner, saw fit to interpose his contrary opini

arn't nah bleedin' lydy-she's just a blarsted Judy. Yer got to knock a Jud

is two wrists. I exclaimed aloud when I saw the man's full face. There was death in

g over him. The hands I had seen gripping the rail a moment before, now gripped Cockney's wrists in the same terrible clutch.

n'! A lie- Ow, yuss-a lie! She's a proper lydy-

ey lost no time in putting the distance of the room between them. Th

e Golden Bough

flood," the S

declared the man. "I s

ed

to fire my own resolut

the bar with my fist a

n her too

rn. He regarded us, one after the other, with his baby stare.

iends," was t

quivered with his wheezy laughter. "By Yimminy, Ay tan

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