Blow The Man Down Part 83

Three days later, acknowledging to himself that he was a thoroughly beaten young man, Mayo walked into the Nicholas Hotel. He had been unable to secure either encouragement, money, or credit. There were parties who would back him in any attempt to junk the _Conomo_; but his proposition to raise her with the aid of the tribe of Hue and Cry made his project look like a huge joke and stirred hearty amus.e.m.e.nt all along the water-front. Everywhere he found proof of Fogg's neat work of discouragement. If a real salvaging company had turned the scheme down as impracticable, how could penniless amateurs hope? It was conceded in business and financial circles that they hoped because they were amateurs.

Mayo's outlook on his own strictly personal affairs was as dismal as his view of the Razee project in which his a.s.sociates were concerned. He went to the hotel merely because he had promised Burkett that he would notify that modern buccaneer regarding any intended departure. He despondently reflected that if Fogg and Burkett had agreed again, the combination against him still existed. If they were persistently on the outs, Burkett was merely a discredited agent whose word, without proofs, could be as easily brushed away as his connection with Fogg in the'

matter of the _Conomo_. In fact, so Mayo pondered, he might find a.s.sociation with Burkett dangerous, because demands for consideration can be twisted into semblance of blackmail by able lawyers. He entertained so few hopes in regard to any a.s.sistance from Burkett that he was rather relieved to discover that the man was no longer a guest at the hotel.

"Has he left town?"

"I suppose there's no secret about the thing," explained the clerk. "Mr.

Fogg had the man arrested yesterday, for threatening words and actions.

Something of that sort. Anyway, he is in jail and must give bonds to keep the peace."

Mayo's flagging interest in the possibilities of Burkett as an aid in his affairs was a bit quickened by that piece of news, and he hurried up to the jail. If ever a captured and fractious bird of pa.s.sage was beating wings against his cage's bars in fury and despair, Mr. Burkett was doing it with vigor. Mayo, admitted as a friend who might aid in quelling the disturbance that was making the deafened jailers and noise-maddened prisoners regret the presence of Mr. Burkett, found the man clinging to the iron rods and kicking his foot against them.

"It's the last thing he did before he left town, this what he has done to me. I can't give bonds. I don't know anybody in this city," raved the prisoner.

"I'm afraid that I don't know the folks here very well, judging from my experiences trying to raise money," stated Captain Mayo, after he had quieted Burkett. "But I'll go out and see what I can do."

After some pleading he induced a fish wholesaler to go to the jail with him and inspect Burkett as a risk in the matter of bonds. Mr. Burkett, being a man of guile, controlled his wrath and offered a presentable guise of mildness.

"But how am I going to know that he won't be hunting this enemy up as soon as I give bonds?" asked the fishman.

"Captain Mayo is tackling a job of wrecking, offcoast," said Burkett, "and I'm out of work just now and will go with him. I'll be a safe risk, all right, out there."

"Does that go with you, Captain Mayo?"

"Yes, sir."

After the matter of bonds had been arranged before the commissioner, and when Burkett walked down the street with Mayo, the latter stopped on a corner.

"I'll have to leave you here, Burkett. I'm going aboard the schooner.

We're sailing."

"But how about your taking me?"

"I was willing to help you lie that much, Burkett. I knew you did not intend to go with me."

"I don't want to put you in bad with anybody after this, Captain Mayo.

I need to keep away for a time where I won't be in danger of seeing Fletcher Fogg. If I meet him while I'm frothing like this, I'll kill him, even if it means the chair. Give me a lay aboard that steamer, no matter how bad your prospects are, and I'll be square with you.

That's my man's word to you. I realize it isn't much of a word in your estimation--but there are some promises I can keep. I propose to help you get back at Fogg and his gang. That's reason enough for what I'm doing," he pleaded, earnestly. "You ought to see that yourself. I'm just as good a man with machinery as I am in the pilot-house. I won't set you back any!"

"All right, Mr. Burkett, come along," agreed Mayo, curtly, without enthusiasm.

There was a fair wind for their departure and Mayo headed the schooner for Maquoit. The few words which Captain Candage had dropped in regard to Rowley's state of mind worried Mayo. His little edifice of hope was tottering to a fall, but the loss of the _Ethel and May_ meant the last push and utter ruin. He decided that he was in honor bound to preserve the schooner for the uses of the men of Hue and Cry, even if it meant abandonment of the _Conomo_ and going back to fishing. Without that craft they would be paupers once more.

The _Ethel and May_ sneaked her way into Maquoit harbor--if a schooner can be said to sneak. A breeze at nightfall fanned her along, and when her killick went down, the rusty chain groaned querulously from her hawse-hole.

Mayo rowed ash.o.r.e and toiled his way up the little street to the widow's cottage. He was ashamed to meet Polly Candage--ashamed with the feelings of a strong man who has put out every effort and has failed. But, somehow, he wanted to feel that sisterly grip of her hand and look down into those encouraging gray eyes. He remembered that in times past she had soothed and stimulated him. This time he did not come to her expecting to get new courage for further effort; he had exhausted all resources, he told himself. But in his bitter humiliation he needed the companionship of a true friend--yes, he felt, almost, that she was now the only friend he had left. His experiences with those whom he had before looked on as friends had made him feel that he stood alone.

She came running to him in the little parlor, her hands outstretched and her face alight.

He felt at first sight of her, and his face flushed at thought of his weakness, that he wanted to put his head on her shoulder and weep.

"You poor boy, things have not been going well!"

He choked, for the caress in her tones touched his heart. He patted her hands, and she sat down beside him on the old haircloth sofa.

"I've had a terrible week of it, Polly."

Her sweet smile did not waver. The gray eyes stared straight into his.

"I have talked to 'em till my mouth has been parched and my tongue sore, and G.o.d knows my heart is sore. All they do is look at me and shake their heads. I thought I had friends alongsh.o.r.e--men who believed in me--men who would take my word and help me. I'll never be fooled again by the fellows who pat you on the back in sunny weather, and won't lend you an umbrella when it rains unless you'll leave your watch with 'em for security. And speaking of the watch," he went on, smiling wistfully, for her mere presence and her unspoken sympathy had begun to cheer him, "reminds me why I'm here in Maquoit. Oh yes," he put in, hastily, catching a queer look of disappointment on her face, "I did want to see you. I looked forward to seeing you after all the others had turned their backs on me. There's something wonderfully comforting in your face, Polly, when you just look at me. You don't have to say a word."

"I do thank you, Boyd."

"I hear that Rowley is getting uneasy about his schooner--wants to take it away from us. So I have sold my watch and all the other bits of personal things I could turn into cash, and am here to give him the money and tell him we're going back to fishing again."

"You'll give up the steamer?"

"Yes--and hopes and prospects and all. I've got to."

"But if you could win!"

"I'll stay down where I belong. I won't dream any more."

"Don't give up."

"There's nothing else to do. We poor devils need something besides our bare hands."

The girl struggled mightily with her next question, but he did not note her emotions, for his elbows were on his knees and he was staring at the rag carpet.

"Will it cost a lot of money for what you want to do on the steamer?"

"We may need a lot before we can do it all. But I have been sitting up nights planning the thing, Polly. I have gone over and over it. When I was on board the steamer waiting for your father, I examined her as best I could.. If I had a little money, I could make a start, and after I started, and could show the doubters what could be done, I could raise more money then. I am sure of it. Of course the first investment is the most dangerous gamble, and that's why everybody is shy. But I believe my scheme would work, though I can't seem to get anybody else to believe it."

"Will I understand if you'll tell me?"

"I'd get a diver's outfit and material, and build bulk-heads in her, both sides of the hole in her bottom. Then I'd have an engine and pumps, and show that I could get the water out of her, or enough of it so that she'd float."

"But the big hole, you wouldn't mend that?"

"I think we could brace the bulkheads so that we could hold the water out of both ends of her and let the main hole in her alone."

"And she wouldn't sink?"

He was patient with the girl's unwisdom in the ways of the sea.

"Since you've been here at Maquoit, Polly, you have seen the lobster-smacks with what they call 'wells' in them. All amidships is full of water, you know--comes in through holes bored in the hull--fresh sea-water that swashes in and out and keeps the lobsters alive till they get to market. But the vessel is tight at both ends, and she floats.

Well, that's what I plan to do with the Conomo. With a few thousand dollars I'm sure I can make enough of a start so I can show 'em the rest can be done." He promptly lost the bit of enthusiasm he had shown while he was explaining. He began his gloomy survey of the carpet once more.

"But it's no use. n.o.body will listen to a man who wants to borrow money on a wild hope."