Part 27 (1/2)

It was, however, not particularly easy. The breeze freshened steadily, until she put her forecastle under and hove her stern out at every plunge, while her propeller shook her in every plate as it whirred in empty air. A man could scarcely venture forward along her brine-swept deck, and at times when Jimmy had to cling to the bridge-rails for his life she rolled until all her rail was in the sea. He was battered and blinded by flying spray, and when the black night came he could not see an arm's-length in front of him; but the telegraph still stood at full-speed, and the _Shasta_ resolutely b.u.t.ted the big foaming seas. At last she ran in among the islands, where there was smoother water, and Jimmy was rowed ash.o.r.e, red-eyed, half-asleep, and aching in every limb, when he had brought her up off a certain icy, green-stained river. As it happened, the man in charge of the cannery on its bank was unusually pleased to see him, though he did not say so. He gave Jimmy a cigar in his office, and when they sat down looked at him thoughtfully.

”It's rather a long way up here, and it will cost you a little in coal if you mean to make your usual trip,” he said. ”I don't think I made you any definite promise.”

Jimmy smiled. ”Still, I said I would call.”

”Then I wish some of the other people with whom we trade were as punctilious. I suppose you expect something now you're here?”

”I do,” said Jimmy. ”In fact, I almost fancy it's going to suit you to fill me up.”

”I think I mentioned we had a standing arrangement with Mr. Merril.”

”You did,” said Jimmy cheerfully. ”He's sending you up two schooners. It will be a week before they are here. I pa.s.sed one of them yesterday running back for shelter, and the other's--anyway--sixty miles astern of her.”

”The wind may change, and they wouldn't be long getting here with sheets slacked away.”

”It won't change,” said Jimmy. ”Look at your gla.s.s. That rise means northerly weather.”

The canner appeared to consider. ”Well,” he said, ”I gave you a few cases once or twice, and, though we have an arrangement with Merril, I can fill you up one hatch now at the rate you fixed.”

”I can't trade on those terms. The rate in question was a special cut.

We made it to get in ahead of Merril; but when the time came, you didn't give us an opportunity for tendering for your carrying. In fact, I hear he's getting more than I did. That, however, does not directly concern me, and you no doubt understand your own business; but I should like to mention that the _Agapomene_'s skipper will not wait a day longer than next Thursday.”

The canner looked hard at him. ”You will excuse my asking if that is a sure thing?”

”You mean am I talking quite straight?” and a suggestive dryness crept into Jimmy's tone. ”I can only say that the man, who did not know I was coming here, a.s.sured me of it just before I went to sea. It would, of course, be easy for you to wait and find out whether you could believe me. Only the fact that you had done so would naturally place you in a difficulty, since the _Agapomene_ would have gone to sea, and there isn't another vessel offering.”

”Well?” said the canner.

Jimmy smiled at him. ”I want two things--every case you have ready, and a rate equal to what you're giving Merril. It is not very much, after all. As you know, since Merril's schooners can't get here until there is a change of wind, I could strike you for double.”

The canner sat silent a moment or two, and then laughed good-humoredly.

”To be quite straight, the last was what I expected. Now, I'm not the only man in this concern, and the people who have the most say are, as usual, in Victoria. I know why they made the deal with Merril, and while, as you say, that does not concern you, it didn't quite please me.

Anyway, he hasn't kept his arrangement, and has put the screw on us in several ways; so if you'll warp your boat in we'll heave the cases into her. There's just another thing. Come back when you lighten her, and if this run of fish lasts I'll do what I can to make it worth your while.”

Jimmy thanked him, and went out to bring the _Shasta_ alongside the little wharf, after which he went to sleep, though almost every other man on board was kept busy stowing salmon-cases all that night.

It happened that during the earlier hours of it several irate gentlemen who had the control of a good deal of money sat in conclave in Merril's house, which stood just outside the city limits of Vancouver. It was a tastefully furnished room in which they sat, and n.o.body could have found fault with the wine and cigars on the table, but as it happened both these facts irritated one of the gentlemen.

”I feel tempted to talk quite straight, and I expect you'll understand me, Merril, when I say that you don't seem to have had your usual luck over this wood-pulp deal,” he said. ”In a general way, it's the other people who take a hand in your ventures who feel the pinch when things don't quite work out right, but in this case you have got to bear it with the rest of us.”

Merril, who lay in a big lounge chair, little, portly, and immaculately dressed, looked up at him quietly. ”If it's any consolation to you, I'm holding as much stock as the rest of you put together. The thing hits me rather hard, but, as you say, we can only stand up under it--that is, if the appropriation grants are thrown out by the House.”

”They will be,” said another man. ”Anyway, the road-making in which we are interested comes under a clause that will be struck off in Committee. It's a sure thing. I can't quite blame the Legislature, either, after the admissions made by the district member. He has gone back on you, Merril. You told us you were sure of him.”

Merril smiled curiously. ”Well,” he said, ”it's a little difficult to be sure of anything, and as the man will be here very shortly you can talk to him yourself. That, however, will not straighten anything out. The question is, what is to be done about the wagon-road?”

”Build it ourselves,” said another man. ”It's either that or let the mill go, and, considering the money I've put in, I'm for holding on.