CHAPTER 22
But McTee, deep in thought, was walking from the bridge. He wentstraight to the hole of the ship and questioned some of the firemen,and they told him that Harrigan had done no work passing coal the daybefore; Campbell, it appeared, had taken him for some special job. Withthis tidings the Scotchman hastened back to Henshaw.
"The game's slipping through our hands, captain," he said.
"Harrigan?" queried Henshaw.
"Aye. He didn't pass a shovelful of coal in the hole yesterday."
"Tut, tut," answered the other with a wave of the hand. "I sent ordersto Campbell, and told him what sort of a man he could expect to find inHarrigan."
"I've just talked to the firemen. They say that Harrigan didn't handlea single pound of coal. That ought to be final."
Henshaw went black.
"It may be so. I've given more rope to old Campbell than to any manthat ever sailed the seas with White Henshaw, and it may be he's usingthe rope now to hang himself. We'll find out, McTee; we'll find out!Where's Harrigan now?"
"Gone below a while ago after he finished scrubbing down the bridge."
"We'll speak with Douglas. Come along, McTee. There's nothing likediscipline on the high seas."
He went below, murmuring to himself, with McTee close behind him.Strange sounds were coming from the room of the chief engineer, soundswhich seemed much like the strumming of a guitar.
"He's playing his songs," grinned Henshaw, and he chuckled noiselessly."Listen! We'll give him something to sing about--and it'll be inanother key. Ha-ha!"
He tasted the results of his disciplining already, but just as heplaced his hand on the knob of the door, another sound checked him andmade him turn with a puzzled frown toward McTee. It was a ringingbaritone voice which rose in an Irish love song.
"What the devil--" began Henshaw.
"You're right," nodded McTee. "It's the devil--Harrigan. Open thedoor!"
The captain flung it open, and they discovered the two worthies seatedat ease with a black bottle and two glasses at hand. Campbell, in themanner of a musical critic of some skill, leaned back in a chair withhis brawny arms folded behind his head and his eyes half closed.Harrigan, tilted back in a chair, rested his feet on the edge of asmall table and swept the guitar which lay on his lap. In the midst ofa high note he saw the ominous pair standing in the door, and the musicdied abruptly on his lips.
He rose to his feet and nudged Campbell at the same time. The latteropened his eyes and, glimpsing the unwelcome visitors, sprang up,gasping, stammering.
"What? Come in! Don't be standing there, Cap'n Henshaw. Come in and sitdown!"
In spite of his bluster his red face was growing blotched with patchesof gray. Harrigan, less moved than any of the others, calmly replacedthe guitar in its green cloth case.
"I sent this fellow down to be put at hard work," said Henshaw, andwaited.
It was obvious to Harrigan that the chief engineer was in mortal fear.He himself felt strangely ill at ease as he looked at White Henshawwith his skin yellow as Egyptian papyrus from a tomb.
"Just a minute, captain," began the engineer. "You sent Harrigan downto the hole because he's considered a hard man to handle, eh?"
Henshaw waited for a fuller explanation; he seemed to be enjoying thedistress of Campbell.
"Just so," went on the Scotchman, "but there are two ways of handling adifficult sailor. One is by using the club and the other by usingkindness. The club has been tried and hasn't worked very well withHarrigan. I decided to take a hand with kindness. The results have beenexcellent. I was just about--"
His voice died away, for McTee was chuckling in a deep bass rumble, andHenshaw was smiling in a way that boded no good.
The captain broke in coldly: "I've heard enough of your explanation,Campbell. Send Harrigan down to the hole at once. We'll work him adouble shift today, for a starter."
Campbell was trembling like a self-conscious girl, for he was drawnbetween shame and dread of the captain.
"Look!" he cried, and taking the hand of Harrigan, he turned it palmup. "This chap has been brutally treated. He's been at work that fairlytore the skin from the palms of his hands. One hour's work with ashovel, captain, would make Harrigan useless at any sort of a job for amonth."
"Which goes to show," said McTee, "that you don't know Harrigan."
"I've heard what you have to say," said Henshaw. "I sent him down towork in the hole; I come down and find him singing in your room. Iexpect you to have him passing coal inside of fifteen minutes,Campbell."
Harrigan started for the door, feeling that the game had been playedout, and glad of even this small respite of a day or more from thelabor of the shovel. Before he left the room, however, the voice ofCampbell halted him.
"Wait! Stay here! You'll do what I tell you, Harrigan. I'm the bossbelowdecks."
It was a declaration of war, and what it cost Campbell no one couldever tell. He stood swaying slightly from side to side, while he glaredat Henshaw.
"You're drunk," remarked the captain coldly. "I'll give you half anhour, Campbell, to come to your senses--but after that--"
"Damn you and your time! I want no tune! I say the lad has been putthrough hell and shan't go back to it, do you hear me?"
Henshaw was controlling himself carefully, or else he wished to drawout the engineer.
He said: "You know the record of Harrigan?"
"What record? The one McTee told you? Would you believe what BlackMcTee says of a man he tried to break and couldn't?"
"My friend McTee is out of the matter. All that you have to do with ismy order. You've heard that order, Campbell!"
"I'll see you in hell before I send him to the hole."
Henshaw waited another moment, quietly enjoying the wild excitement ofthe engineer like the Spanish gentleman who sits in safety in thegallery and watches the baiting of the bull in the arena below.
"I shall send that order to you in writing. If you refuse to obey then,I shall act!"
He turned on his heel; McTee stayed a moment to smile upon Harrigan,and then followed. As the door closed, Harrigan turned to Campbell andfound him sitting, shuddering, with his face buried in his hands. Hetouched the Scotchman on the shoulder.
"You've done your part, chief. I won't let you do any more. I'mstarting now for the hole."
"What?" bellowed Campbell. "Am I no longer the boss of my engine room?You'll sit here till I tell you to move! Damn Henshaw and his writtenorders!"
"If you refuse to obey a written order, he can take your license awayfrom you in any marine court."
"Let it go."
"Ah-h, chief, ye're afther bein' a thrue man an' a bould one, but I'drather stay the rest av me life in the hole than let ye ruin yourselffor me. Whisht, man, I'm goin'! Think no more av it!"
Campbell's eyes grew moist with the temptation, but then the fightingblood of his clan ran hot through his veins.
"Sit down," he commanded. "Sit down and wait till the order comes. It'sa fine thing to be chief engineer, but it's a better thing to be a man.What does Bobbie say?"
And he quoted in a ringing voice: "A man's a man for a' that!"Afterward they sat in silence that grew more tense as the minutespassed, but it seemed that Henshaw, with demoniac cunning, had decidedto prolong the agony by delaying his written order and the consequentdecision of the engineer. And Harrigan, watching the suffused face ofCampbell, knew that the time had come when his will would not sufficeto make him follow the dictates of his conscience.
All of which Henshaw knew perfectly well as he sat in his cabin fillingthe glass of McTee with choice Scotch.
They sat for an hour or more, chatting, and McTee drew a picture of thepair waiting below in silent dread--a picture so vivid that Henshawlaughed in his breathless way. In time, however, he decided that theyhad delayed long enough, and took up pen and paper to write the orderwhich was to convince the dauntless Campbell that even he was a slave.As he did so, Sloan, the wireless operator, appeared at the do
or,saying: "The report has come, sir."