Harrigan (eBook)

Max Brand (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2018
495 Seiten
Seltzer Books (Verlag)
978-1-4553-6114-4 (ISBN)

Infos

Classic western. According to Wikipedia: 'Frederick Schiller Faust (May 29, 1892 - May 12, 1944) was an American fiction author known primarily for his thoughtful and literary Westerns. Faust wrote mostly under pen names, and today is primarily known by one, Max Brand. Others include George Owen Baxter, Evan Evans, David Manning, John Frederick, Peter Morland, George Challis, and Frederick Frost. ... Faust managed a massive outpouring of fiction, rivaling Edgar Wallace and especially Isaac Asimov as one of the most prolific authors of all time. He wrote more than 500 novels for magazines and almost as many stories of shorter length. His total literary output is estimated to have been between 25,000,000 and 30,000,000 words. Most of his books and stories were turned out at breakneck rate, sometimes as quickly as 12,000 words in the course of a weekend. New books based on magazine serials or unpublished manuscripts or restored versions continue to appear so that he has averaged a new book every four months for seventy-five years. Beyond this, some work by him is newly reprinted every week of every year in one or another format somewhere in the world.'

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Classic western. According to Wikipedia: "e;Frederick Schiller Faust (May 29, 1892 - May 12, 1944) was an American fiction author known primarily for his thoughtful and literary Westerns. Faust wrote mostly under pen names, and today is primarily known by one, Max Brand. Others include George Owen Baxter, Evan Evans, David Manning, John Frederick, Peter Morland, George Challis, and Frederick Frost. ... Faust managed a massive outpouring of fiction, rivaling Edgar Wallace and especially Isaac Asimov as one of the most prolific authors of all time. He wrote more than 500 novels for magazines and almost as many stories of shorter length. His total literary output is estimated to have been between 25,000,000 and 30,000,000 words. Most of his books and stories were turned out at breakneck rate, sometimes as quickly as 12,000 words in the course of a weekend. New books based on magazine serials or unpublished manuscripts or restored versions continue to appear so that he has averaged a new book every four months for seventy-five years. Beyond this, some work by him is newly reprinted every week of every year in one or another format somewhere in the world."e;

Textauszug

 CHAPTER 21

 

 "He's heard!" stammered Hovey, pointing. "Guard the door! Get him!"

 

"Bash in his head an' overboard with the lubber!" growled Sam Hall.

 

Not one of the others spoke; their actions were the more significant. Some leaped to the door and barred the exit.

 

Others started for Harrigan. The latter leaped off his bunk and, sweeping up a short-legged, heavy stool, sprang back against the wall. This he held poised, ready to drive it at the first man who approached. Their semicircle grew compact before him, but still they hesitated, for the man who made the first move would die.

 

"You fools!" said Harrigan, brandishing his stool. "Keep off!"

 

He was thinking desperately, quickly.

 

"Harrigan," said Hovey, edging his way to the front of the sailors, "you heard!"

 

"I did!"

 

They growled, infuriated. His death was certain now, but they kept back for another moment, astonished that this man would sign his own sentence of doom. From marlinspikes to pocketknives, every man held some sort of a weapon. Garry Cochrane, flattening himself against the wall at one side, edged inch by inch toward Harrigan.

 

"I heard it all," said the Irishman, "and until the last word I thought you were a lot of bluffin' cowards."

 

"You had your chance, Harrigan," said Hovey, "an' you turned me down. Now you get what's due you."

 

The sailors crouched a little as if at a command to leap forward in the attack. Cochrane was perilously near.

 

"If I get my due," said Harrigan coolly, "you'll go down on your knees. Stand back, Cochrane, or I'll brain ye! You'll go down on your knees an' thank God that I'm with ye!"

 

"Stand fast, Garry!" ordered Hovey. "What do you mean, Harrigan?"

 

The Irishman laughed. Every son of Erin is an actor, and now Harrigan's laughter rang true.

 

"What should I mean except what I said?" he answered.

 

"He's tryin' to save his head," broke in Kyle, "but with the fear of death lookin' him in the eye, any man would join us. Finish him, lads."

 

"You fool!" said Harrigan authoritatively. "Don't talk so loud, or you'll have White Henshaw down on our heads. Maybe he's heard that bull voice of yours already!"

 

It was a master stroke. The mention of the terrible skipper and the skillful insinuation that he was one of them, made them straighten and stare at him.

 

"Go guard the door," said Hovey to one of his sailors, "an' see that none of the mates is near. Now, Harrigan, what d'you mean? You'd hear no word of mutiny when I talked to you. Speak for your life now, because we're hard to convince."

 

"We can't be convinced," said Garry Cochrane, "but maybe it'll be fun to hear him talk before we dump him overboard."

 

Instead of answering the speaker, Harrigan looked upon Hovey with a cold eye of scorn.

 

He said: "I changed my mind. I'm not one of you. I thought the bos'n was a real captain for the gang, but I'll not follow a dog that lets every one of his pack yelp."

 

"I'm a dog, am I?" snarled Hovey furiously. "I'll teach you what I am, Harrigan. An' you, Cochrane, keep your face shut. I'll learn you who's boss of this little crew!"

 

"If you're half the man you seem," went on Harrigan, "this game looks good to me."

 

"You lie," said the bos'n. "You turned me down cold when I talked to you."

 

"You fool, that was because you said no word outright of wipin' out the officers an' takin' control of the ship. You sneaked up to me in the dark; you felt me out before you said a word; you were like a cat watchin' a rathole. Am I a rat? Am I a sneak? Do I have to be whispered to? No, I'm Harrigan, an' anyone who wants to talk to me has got to speak out like a man!"

 

The very impudence of his speech held them in check for another precious moment. He whirled the heavy stool.

 

"If you wanted me, why didn't you come an' say: 'Harrigan, I know you. You hate Henshaw an' McTee an' the rest. We're goin' to wipe 'em out an' beach the ship. Are you with us?' Why, then I'd of shook hands with you, and that would end it. But when you come whisperin' and insinuatin', sayin' nothin' straight from the shoulder, how'd I know you weren't sent by Henshaw to feel me out, eh? How do any of you know the bos'n ain't feelin' you out for the skipper he's sailed with ten years?"

 

The circle shifted, loosened; half the men were facing Hovey with suspicious eyes. They had not thought of this greater danger, and the bos'n was desperate in the crisis.

 

"Boys," he pleaded, "are you goin' to let one stranger ball up our game? Are you goin' to start doubtin' me on his say-so?"

 

The men glanced from him to Harrigan. Plainly they were deep in doubt, and the Irishman made his second masterful move. He stepped forward, dropping his stool with a crash to the floor, and clapped a hand upon Hovey's shoulder.

 

"I spoke too quick," he said frankly, "but you got me mad, bos'n. I know you're straight, an' I'm with you, for one. A man Harrigan will toiler ought to be good enough for the rest, eh?"

 

Jerry Hovey wiped his gleaming forehead. The kingdom of his ambition was rebuilt by this speech.

 

"Sit down, boys," he ordered. "The last man in the forecastle is with us now. We're solid. Sit down and we'll plan our game."

 

The plan, as it developed after the circle re-formed, was a simple one. They were to wait until the ship was within two or three days' voyage from the coast of Central America--their destination--and then they would act. They had secured to their side the firemen and the first assistant engineer. That meant that they could run the ship safely with the bos'n, who understood navigation, at the wheel. They would select a night, and then, on the command of Hovey, the men would take the arms which they had prepared.

 

One of the Japanese cabin boys, Kamasura, was a member of the plot. He would furnish butcherknives and cleavers from the kitchen. Besides this, there were various implements which could be used as bludgeons; and finally there were the pocketknives with which every sailor is always equipped, generally stout, long-bladed instruments. The advantage of firearms was with the officers of the ship, but apparently there were no rifles and probably very few revolvers aboard. Against powder and lead they would have the advantage of a surprise attack.

 

First, Sam Hall and Kyle were to go down to the hole of the ship and lead the firemen in their attack upon the oilers and wipers, most of whom had not been approachable with the plan of mutiny because they were newly signed on the ship. In this part of the campaign the most important feature would be the capturing of Campbell, who would be reserved for a finely drawn-out, tortured death. The firemen had insisted upon this.

 

In the meantime Hovey with Flint and the rest would attack the cabins of Henshaw, McTee, and the mates. Here they depended chiefly upon the effect of the surprise. If it were possible, Henshaw also was to be taken alive and reserved for a long death like Campbell. This done, they would lead the ship to an uninhabited part of the shore, beach her, and scatter over the mainland, each with his share of the booty.

 

Harrigan forced himself to take an active part in the discussion of the plans. Several features were his own suggestion, among others the idea of presenting a petition for better food to Henshaw, and beating him down while he was reading it; but all the time that the Irishman spoke, he was thinking of Kate.

 

When the crew turned into their bunks at last, he went over a thousand schemes in his head. In the first place he might go to Henshaw at once and warn him of the coming danger, but he remembered what the bos'n had said--in such a case he would not be believed, and both the crew and the commander would be against him.

 

Finally it seemed to him that the best thing was to wait until the critical moment had arrived. He could warn the captain just in time--or if absolutely necessary he could warn McTee, who would certainly believe him. In the mean-time there were possibilities that the mutiny would come to nothing through internal dissension among the crew. In any case he must play a detestable part, acting as a spy upon the crew and pretending enthusiasm for the mutiny.

 

With that shame like a taste of soot in his throat, he climbed to the bridge the next morning with his bucket of suds and his brush, and there as usual he found McTee, cool and clean in the white outfit of Henshaw. At sight of the Scotchman he remembered at once that he must pretend the double exhaustion which comes of pain and hard labor. Therefore he thrust out his lower jaw and favored McTee with a glare of hate. He was repaid by the glow of content which showed in the captain's face.

 

"And the hole of the Heron," he said, speaking...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 1.3.2018
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Anthologien
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Klassiker / Moderne Klassiker
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 1-4553-6114-3 / 1455361143
• ISBN-13: 978-1-4553-6114-4 / 9781455361144