Part 11 (2/2)
This was not bragging, not bl.u.s.tering, but calm a.s.surance, and Rainey felt that Lund merely stated what he believed to be facts. And Rainey believed they were facts. There was a confident strength of spirit aside from his physical condition that emanated from Lund as steam comes from a kettle. It was the sort of strength that lies in a steady gale, a wind that one can lean against, an elastic power with big reserves of force.
But the conditions were all against Lund, though he proceeded to put them aside.
”Man to man,” he repeated, ”I c'ud beat 'em into Hamburg steak. An' I've got brains enough to fool Carlsen. I've outguessed him so far.”
”He's got the gun,” warned Rainey.
”Never mind his gun. I ain't afraid of his gun.” He nodded with such supreme confidence that Rainey felt himself suddenly relegating the doctor's possession of the gun to the background. ”If his gun's the only thing trubblin' you, forget it. You an' me got to know where we stand.
It's up to you. I won't blame you for s.h.i.+ftin' over. An' I can git along without you, if need be. But we've got along together fine; I've took a notion to you. I'd like to see you get a whack of that gold, an' all the devils in h.e.l.l an' out of it ain't goin' to stop me from gittin' it!”
He talked in a low voice, but it rumbled like the distant roar of a bull. Rainey looked at the indomitable jaw that the beard could not hide, at the great barrel of his chest, the boughlike arms, the swelling thighs and calves, and responded to the suggestion that Lund could rise in Berserker rage and sweep aside all opposition.
It was absurd, of course; his next thought adjusted the balance that had been weighed down by the compelling quality of the man's vigor but, for the moment, remembering his earlier simile, Lund appeared a blind Samson who, by some miracle, could at the last moment destroy his enemies by pulling down their house--or their s.h.i.+p--about them.
”Carlsen says that the skipper's life is in his hands,” he said, still evading Lund's direct question. ”What do you make of that?”
”I don't know what to make of it,” answered Lund. ”If it is, G.o.d help the skipper! I reckon he's in a bad way. Ennyhow, he's out of it for the time bein', Rainey. I don't think he'll be present at the meetin' if he's that ill. Carlsen speaks for him. Count Simms out of it for the present.”
”There's the girl,” said Rainey. ”I don't believe she wants to marry Carlsen.”
”If she does,” said Lund, ”she ain't the kind we need worry about.
Carlsen 'ud marry her if he thought it was necessary to git her share by bein' legal. He may try an' squeeze her to a wedding through the skipper. Threaten to let her dad die if she don't marry him, likely'll git the skipper to tie the knot. It 'ud be legal. But if you're interested about the gal, Rainey, an' I take it you are, I'm tellin' you that Carlsen'll marry her if it suits his book. If it don't, he won't.
An', if he wins out, he'll take her without botherin' about prayer-books an' ceremonies. I know his breed. All men are more or less selfish an'
shy on morals, in streaks more or less wide, but that Carlsen's just plain skunk.”
”The men wouldn't permit that,” said Rainey tersely. ”If Carlsen started anything like that I'd kill him with my own hands, gun or no gun. And any white man would help me do it.”
”You would, mebbe,” said Lund, nodding sagely. ”You'd have a try at it.
But you don't know men, matey, not like I do. This s.h.i.+p's got a skipper now. A sick one, I grant you. But so far he's boss. An' he's the gal's father. All's usual an' reg'lar. But you turn this schooner into a free-an'-easy, equal shares-to-all, go-as-you-please outfit, let 'em git their claws on the gold, an' be on the way home to spend it--for Carlsen'll let 'em go that far afore he pulls his play, whatever it is--an' discipline will go by the board.
”Grog'll be served when they feel like it, they'll start gamblin', some of 'em'll lose all they got. There'll be sore-heads, an' they'll remember there's a gal in the after-cabin, which won't be the after-cabin enny more, for they'll all have the run of it, bein' equal; then all h.e.l.l's goin' to break loose, far's that gal's concerned.
”A bunch of men who've bin at sea for weeks, half drunk, crazy over havin' more gold than they ever dreamed of, or havin' gambled it away.
Jest a bunch of beasts, matey, whenever they think of that gal. They'll be too much for Carlsen to handle--an'”--he tapped at Rainey's knee--”Carlsen don't think enough of enny woman to let her interfere with his best interests.”
Rainey's jaw was set and his fists clenched, his blood running hot and fast. His imagination was instinct to conjure up full-colored scenes from Lund's suggestions.
”You mean--” he began.
”Under his hide, when there ain't nothin' to hinder him, a man's plain animal,” said Lund. ”What do these water-front bullies know about a good gal--or care? They only know one sort. Ever think what happened to a woman in privateer days when they got one aboard, alone, on the high seas? Why, if they pushed Carlsen, he'd turn her over to 'em without winkin'.”
”You hinted I was different,” said Rainey. ”How about you, Lund, how would you act?”
”If Carlsen wins out, I'd be chewin' mussels on a rock, or feedin'
crabs,” said Lund simply. ”I'm no saint, but, so long as I can keep wigglin', there ain't enny hunter or seaman goin' to harm a decent gal.
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