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Show CThe Qreen Pea Pirates By PETER B. KYNE Author of "WEBSTER MAN'S MAN," "THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS," Etc. Copyright, by Peter B. Kyne pectunt Captam Hicks. "As soon as yon feel you've got a grip on her," he yelled, "just hold her steady so she won't drive further up the beach when I get my anchor up. She'll come out like a loose tooth at the top of the flood." The Aphrodite forged slowly ahead, taking In the slack of fhe hawser. Twenty minutes later, after much backing and swearing and heaving of lines the Bodega's hawser was also put board the Maggie. Mr. Glbney Judged it would be safe now to fasten this line to the towing bits. Suddenly Captain Scraggs remembered remem-bered there was no one on duty In the Maggie's engine room. With a half sob, he slid down the greasy ladder, tore open the furnace doors and commenced com-menced shoveling in coal with a recklessness reck-lessness that bordered on insanity. When the Indicator showed eighty pounds of steam he came up on deck and discovered Mr. Gibney walking solemnly round and round the little capstan up forward It was creaking and groaning dismally. Captain Scraggs thrust Ms engine room torch above his head to light the scene and gazed upon his navigating officer In blank amazement. "What foolishness Is this, Gib?" he demanded. "Are you clean daffy, do-in' do-in' a barn dance around that rusty capstan, makin' a noise fit to frighten the fish?" "Not much," came the laconic reply. re-ply. 'Tm a smart man. I'm raisin' both anchors." "Well, all I got to remark Is that It takes a smart man to raise both anchors an-chors when we only got one anchor WHEREIN MR. GIBNEY PUTS ONE OVER. Synopsis. Captain Ptilneas P. Scraggs has grown up around the docki of San Francisco, and from mess boy on a river teamer. risen to the ownership of the teamer Maggie. Since each annual inspection in-spection promised to be the last of the old weattverbeaten vessel, Scraggs naturally luis some difficulty In securing a crew. When the story opens, Adelbert P. Gibney, likable, but erratic, a man whom nobody but Scraggs would hire, Is the skipoer. Nells Halvorsen, a solemn Swede, constitutes consti-tutes the forcastle hands, and Bart Mc-Guftey, Mc-Guftey, a wastrel of the Gibney tpe. reigns in the engine room. CHAPTER II Continued. 2 She did with a crack that shook the rigging and caused It to rattle like buckshots In a pan. A terrible S:ry such a cry, Indeed, as might burst from the lips of a mother seeing her only child run down by the Limited burst from poor Captain Scraggs. "My ship! My ship!" he howled. "My darling little Maggie! They've k'Ued you, they've killed you ! The t'irty lubbers I" The succeeding wave lifted the Klag-gie Klag-gie oft' the beach, carried her in some fifty feet further, and deposited her gently on the sand. She heeled over to port a little and rested there as if she was very, very weary, nor cold all the threshing of her screw in reverse re-verse haul her off again. The surf, dashing in under her fantall, had more power than McGuffey's engines, Lnd, foot by foot, the Maggie proceedeo to dig herself in. Mr. Gibney listened for five minutes to the uproar that rose from the boweJs of the l'.ttle steamer before he whistled up Mr. McGuffey. "Kill her, kill her," he ordered. "Your wheel will bite into the tand first thing you know, and tear the stern off her. You're shakin' th old girl to pieces." McGuffey killed bis engine, banked his fires, and came up on deck, wiping his anxious face with a fearfully filthy sweat rag. At the same time Scraggs and Nells Halvorsen came cravling aft over the deckload and when ihey reached the clear space around the pilot house, Captain Scraggs threv his brown derby on the deck and leaped upon it until, his rage abating ilti-mately, ilti-mately, no power on earth. In th- air, or under the sea, could possibly have rehabilitated it and rendered it fit for further wear, even by Captain Scrcggs. This petulant practice of jumping on his hat was a habit with Scraggs whenever anything annoyed him particularly par-ticularly and w-as always infallible evidence evi-dence that a simple declarative sentence sen-tence had stuck In his throat. "Well, oJd whirling dervish," Mr. Gibney demanded calmly when Scraggs paused for lack of breath to continue his dance, "what about it? We're up Salt Creek without a paddle ; the devil to pay and no pitch hot." "McGuffey's fired!" Captain Sciaggs screeched. "Come, come, Scraggsy, old tarpot," Mr. Gibney soothed. "This ain'c no time for fightin'. Thinkin' an' actin' Is all that saves the Maggie now." ness : "If we ever meet again, Scraggs, I'll make Mrs. Scraggs a widow. wid-ow. Paste that in your hat when j u get a new one." The Maggie wg resting easily on , the beach, with the broken water from tha long lazy combers surging well up above her water line. At most, six feet of water awaited the engineer, who stood, peering shoreward and listening lis-tening intently, oblivious to the stray missiles which whizzed past. Presently, Present-ly, from out of the fog, be heard a grinding, metallic sound and through a sudden rift In the fog caught a brief glimpse of blue flame with sparks radiating faintly from It. That settled matters for Bartholomew Bartholo-mew McGuffey. The metallic sound was the protest from the wheels of a Cliff house trolley car rounding a curve; the blue flame was an electric manifestation due to the intermittent contact of her trolley with the wire, wet with fog. McGuffey knew the exact position of the Maggie now, so he poised a moment on her bow ; as a wave swept past him, he leaped overboard, scrambled ashore, made his way up the beach to the great highway which flanks the shore line between the Cliff house and Ingleside, sought a roadhouse, and warmed his Interior with four fingers of whisky neat. Then, feeling quite content with himself, even in bis wet garments, he boarded a city-bound trolley car and departed for the warmth and hospitality hospital-ity of Scab Johnny's sailor boarding house in Oregon street. Captain Scraggs sat down on the half-emptied crate of vegetables and commenced to weep bitterly half because be-cause of rage and half because he regarded re-garded himself a pauper. Already he had a vision of himself scouring the waterfront In search of a job. "No use boo-hooin' over spilt milk, Scraggsy." Always philosophical, the author of the owner's woe sought to carry the disaster off lightly. "Don't add your salt tears to a saltier sea until you're certain you're a total loss an' no insurance. I got you into this and I suppose it's up to me to get you off, so I guess I'll commence operations." opera-tions." Suiting the action to the word, Mr. Gibney grasped the whistle cord and a strange, sad, sneezing, wheezy moan resembling the expiring protest of a lusty pig and graduaJly increasing into a long-drawn but respectable whistle rewarded his efforts. For once, he could affoid to be prodigal with the steam, and while it lasted there could be no mistaking the fact that here was a steamer in dire distress. dis-tress. The weird call for help brought Scraggs around to a fuller realization of the enormity of the disaster which had overtaken him. In his agony he forgot to curse his navigating officer for the latter's stubbornness in refusing to turn back when the fog threatened. He clutched Mr. Gibney by the right arm, thereby interrupting for an instant in-stant the dismal outburst from the Maggie's siren. "Gib," he moaned. 'Tm a ruined man. How're we ever to get the old enough to- telephone into the city for a tug." " 'Tain't scarcely probable, Scraggsy. You abused him vile an' threw a lot of fodder at him." "I wish I'd been took with paralysis first," Scraggs wailed bitterly. "You'd best Jump ashore, Gib, an' 'phone in. We're just below the Cliff house and you can run up to one o' them beach resorts an' 'phone in to the Red Stack Tug Boat company." "'Twouldn't be ethics for me, the registered master o' the Maggie, to desert the ship, Scraggsy, old stick-in-the-mud. What's the matter with get-tin' get-tin' your own shanks wet?" "I dassen't, Gib. I've had a touch of chills an' fever ever since I used to run mate up the San Joaquin sloughs. Here's a nickel to drop in the telephone slot, Gib. There's a good fellow." "Scraggsy, you're deludln' yourself. Show me a tugboat skipper that would come out here on a night like this to pick up the S. S. Maggie, two decks an' no bottom an' loaded with garden truck, an' I'll wag my ears an' look at the back o' my neck. She ain't worth it." "Ain't worth it! Why, man, I paid fifteen hundred hard cash dollars for her." "Fourteen hundred an' ninety-nine dollars an' ninety-nine cents too much. They seen you comln'. However, grantin' for the sake of argyment that she's worth the tow, the next question them towboat sklppers'll ask is: 'Who's goln' to pay the bill?' It'll be two hundred an' fifty dollars at the lowest figger. an' If you got that much credit with the tow-boat company you're some high financier. Ain't that logic?" "I'm afraid," Scraggs replied sadly, "it is. Still, they'd have a lien on the Maggie " "Steamer ahoy!" came a voice from the beach. "Man with a megaphone," Mr. Gibney Gib-ney cried. "Ahoy ! Ahoy, there !" "Who are you an' what's the trouble?" trou-ble?" Captain Scraggs took It upon himself him-self to answer: "American steamer Mag " Mr. Gibney sprang upon him tiger-ishly, tiger-ishly, placed a horny, tobacco-smelling palm across Sernggs' mouth and effectively effec-tively smothered all further sound. "American steamer Yankee Prince," he bawled like a veritable Bull of Basban, "of Boston, Hong Kong to Frisco, with a genera! cargo of sandal wood, rice an' silk. V.'here're we at?" "Just outside the Gate. Half a mile o' the Cliff house." "Telephone in for a tug. We're in nice shape, restin' easy, but our rudder's rud-der's gone an' the after web o' the crank shaft busted. Telephone In. my man, an' I'll make It up to you when we get a safe anchorage. Who are you?" "Lindstrom, of the Golden Gate Life Saving station." "I'll not forget you, Lindstrom. My owners are Yankees, but they're sports." heart, to-wit: spinning sea yams. The telephone rang and Tiernan answered. an-swered. Hicks and Flaherty hitched forward in their chairs to listen. "Hello. . . . Yes, Red Stack office. . . . Steamer Yankee Prince. . . . What's that? . . . silk and rice? . . . Half a mile below the Cliff house, Eh? . . . Sure, I'll send a tug right away, Lindstrom." Tiernan hung up and faced the two skippers. "Gentlemen," he announced, "here's a chance for a little salvage money tonight. The American steamer steam-er Yankee Prince Is ashore half a mile below the Cliff house. She's a big tramp with a valuable cargo from Hong Kong, with the rudder gone and her crank shaft busted." "It's high water at twelve thirty-seven," thirty-seven," Jack Flaherty pleaded. "You'd better send me, Tiernan. The Bodega has more power than the Aphrodite. This was the truth and Dan Hicks knew it, but he was not to be beaten out of his share of the salvage by such flimsy argument. "Jack," he pleaded, "don't be a hog all the time. The Yankee Prince is an eight thousand-ton vessel and It's a two-tug job. Better send us both, Tiernan, and play safe. Chances are our competitors have three tugs on the way right now." "What a wonderful Imagination you have, Dan. Eight thousand tons! You're crazy, man. She's thirteen hundred net register and I know it because be-cause I was in Newport New-s when they launched her, and I went out with her skipper on the trial trip. She's a long, narrow-gutted craft, with engines en-gines aft, like a lake steamer." "We'll play safe," Tiernan decided. "Go to It both of you, and may the best man win. She'll beJong to you. Jack, if she's thirteen hundred net and you get your line aboard first. If she's as big as Dan says she is, you'll be equal partners " But he was talking to himself. Down the docks Hicks and Flaherty were racing for the respective commands, com-mands, each shouting to his night watchman to pipe all hands on deck. Fortunately, a goodly head of steam was up In each tug's boilers ; because of the fog and the liability to collisions colli-sions and consequent hasty summons, One engineer on each tug was on duty. Out through the Gate they nosed their way, heaving the lead continuously, continu-ously, made a wide detour around Mile rock and the Seal rocks, swung a mile to the south of the position of the Maggie, and then came cautiously up the coast, whistling continuously to acquaint the Yankee Prince with their presence in the neighborhood. In anticipation of the necessity for replying to this welcome sound, Captain Cap-tain Scraggs and Mr. Gibney had, for the past two hours, busied themselves getting up another head of steam In the Maggie's boilers, repairing the whistle and splicing the wires of the engine room telegraph. Like the wise men Ihey were, however, they declined to sound the Maggie's siren until the tugs were quite close. Even then, Mr. Gibney shuddered, but needs must "The American Steamer Yankee Prince Is Ashore Half a Mile Below the Cliff House." to our blessed name. An' with that anchor safe on the fo'castle head, I, for one, can't see no sense In raisin' it." "You tarnation jackass !" sighed Gibney. "You forget who we are. Do you s'pose the steamer Yankee Prince can lay on the beach all night with both anchors out, an' then be got ready to tow off in three shakes of a lamb's tail? It takes noise to get up two anchors so I'm makin' all the noise I can. Got any steam?" "Eighty pounds," Scraggs confessed. Having for the moment forgotten his identity, he was confused in the nres- ence of the superior Intelligence of his navigating officer. "Run aft, then, Scraggs, an' turn that cargo winch over to beat the band until I tell you to stop. With the drum runnin' free she'll make noise enough for a winch three times her size, but you might give the necessary yells to make it more lifelike." Captain Scraggs fled to the winch. At the end of five minutes, Mr. Gibney appeared and bade him desist. Then, turning his improvised megaphone seaward sea-ward he adddressed an Imaginary mate : "Mr. Thompson, have you got your port anchor up?" Scraggs took the cue Immediately. "All clear forward, sir," he piped. "Send the bosun for'd an' heave the lead. Mr. Thompson." "Very well, sir." Here The Squarehead, who had been enjoying the unique situation Immensely, Immense-ly, decided to take a hand. Presently, In sing-song cadence, he was reporting the depth of waler alongside. Do Hicki and Flaherty collect? col-lect? Watch for next week'a doings. (TO Bli CONTINUED.) But Captain Scraggs was beyond reason. "McGuffey's fired ! McGuffey's McGuf-fey's fired!" he reiterated. "The dirty rotten wharf rat ! Call yourself an engineer?" he continued witheriflgly. "As an engineer you're a howling success suc-cess at shoemakin', you slob. I'll fix four clock for you, my hearty. I'll nave your ticket took away from jou, in' that's no Chinaman's drfam, nuttier." "It's all my fault runnin' by dead reckonin'," the honest Gibney protested. pro-tested. "Mac ain't to fault. The, engine en-gine room telegraph busted an' be got the wrong signal." "It's his business to see to it that ne's got an engine room telegraph that ivon't bust " "You dog!" McGuffey roared and sprang nt the skipper, who leaped nimbly up the little ladder to the top f the pilot house and stood prepared to kick Mr. McGuffey in the face mould that worthy venture up nfter Mm. "I can't persuade you to git me nothin' that I ought to have. I'm tired workln' with junk an' scraps an' copper cop-per wire and pieces o' string. I'm through !" "You're right you're through he-cause he-cause you're fired!" Scraggs shrieked In Insane rage. "Get off my ship you maritime Imnnstor. or I'll lake a pistol aii rignt. i n teiepnone. un my way I" "God speed you," murmured Mr. Gibney. and released his hold on Captain Cap-tain Scraggs, who instantly threw his arms around the navigating officer's burly neck. "I forgive you, Adelbert," he crooned. "I forgive you freely. By the tall of the Great Sacred Bull, you're a marvel. She's an ail night fog or I'm a Chinaman, and If It only stays thick enough " "It'll hold," Gibney retorted doggedly. dogged-ly. "It's a tule fog. They always hold. Quit huggin' me. Your breath's bad." Captain Scraggs, hurled forcibly backward, bumped Into the pilot house, but lost none of his enthusiasm. "You're a jewel," he declared. "Oh, man, what a head ! Whatever made you think of the Yankee Prince?" "Because," Mr. Gibney answered calmly, "there ain't no such ship, this land of ours bein' a free republic where princes don't go. Still, it's a nice name, Scraggs, old tarpot more particular since I thought It up In a hurry. Eh, what?" "Halvorsen," cried Captain Scraggs. The lone deckhand emerged from a hole In the freight forward whither he bad retreated to escape the vegetable vegeta-ble barrage put over by Captain when the devil drives, so he pulled the whistle cord and was rewarded with a weird, mournful grunt, dying away into a gasp. "Sounds like she has the pip," Jack Flaherty remarked to his mate. "Must have taken on some of that dirty Asiatic water," Dan Hicks soliloquized, solilo-quized, "and now her tubes have gone to glory." Immediately both tugs kicked ahead under a dead slow bell, guided by a series of toots as brief as Mr. Gibney could make them, and presently both tug lookouts reported breakers dead ahead. Dan Uicks sent a man forward to heave the lead under the nose of the Aphrodite, which was edging in gingerly gin-gerly toward the voice. He had a searchlight, but he did not attempt to use it, knowing full well that In sufch a fog It would be of no avail. Guided, therefore, by the bellowings of Mr. Gibney, reinforced by the shrill yips of Captain Scraggs, the tug crept In closer and closer, and when it seemed that they must be within a hundred feet of the surf, Dan Hicks trained his Lyle gun In the direction of Mr. Gibney's voice and shot a heaving heav-ing line into the fog. Almost simultaneous with the report of the gun came a shriek of pain from lo you. Overboard with you. you greasy, addlepated bounder! You're rotten, understand? Rotten! RotteD ! Rotten I" "You owe .me eight doUars an' six bits, Scraggs," Mr. McGuffey reminded his owner calmly. "Chuck down the spondulicks an' I'll get off your ship." Captain Scraggs was beyond renson, bo lie tossed the money down ic the engineer. "Now git." ho commanded. Without further ado, Mr. McGuffey started across the deckload to the fo'castle head. Scraggs could ncA see him but he could hear him so he pelted the engineer with potatoes, cabbage cab-bage heads and onions, the vegetables descending about te honest McGuffey In a veritable ban-tire. Even In the darkness several of hose missiles took effect. Upon reaching the very apex of the Maggie's bow. Mr. McGuffey turned and hurled a promise Into 'he dark- "How're We to Get My Maggie Off the Beach?" sweetheart off whole? Answer me that, Gib. Answer me, I say. How're we to get my Maggie off the beach?" Mr. Gibney shook himself loose from ' that frantic grip and continued his pull on the whistle until the Maggie, taking a false note, quavered, moaned, spat steam a minute and subsided with what might be termed a nautical sob. "Now, see what you've done?" he bawled. "You've made me bust the whistle." "Answer my question, Gib." "We'll never got her off if you don't quit Interferin an' give me time to think. I'll admit there ain't much of a chance, because It's dead low water now an' just as soon as the tide Is at the flood she'll drive further up the beach an' fall apart." "Perhaps McGuffey will have heart Scraggs when McGuffey loft the ship. "Aye, aye, sir," he boomed. "All hands below to the galley I" Scraggs shouted. "While we're wait-in' wait-in' for this here towboat I'll brew a scuttle o' grog to celebrate the discovery dis-covery o' real sea-farin' talent. Gib, my dear boy, I'm proud of you. No matter what happens, I'll never have no other nnvlgatin' officer." "Don't crow till you're out o' the wood3," the astute Gibney warned him. CHAPTER III. In the office of the Red Stack Tug Boat company Captain Dan Hicks, master of the tug Aphrodite; Captain Tack Flaherty, master of the Bodega, and Tiernan. Out assistant superin 'endenr on night watch, sat around a hot little box stove ongaired In that occupation so dear to th miritime Captain Scraggs. Straight and true the wet, heavy knotted end of the heaving line came In over the Maggie's quarter and struck him In the mouth. In the darkness he staggered back from the stinging blow, clutched wildly wild-ly at the air, slipped and rolled over among the vegetables with the precious pre-cious rope clasped to his breast. "I got It," he sputtered, "I got It, Gib." "Safe, O !" Mr. Gibney bawled. "Pay out your hawser." They met It at the taffrall as It came up out of the breakers, wet but welcome. "Pass It around the mainmast. main-mast. Scraggy," Mr. Gibney cautioned. "If we make fast to the towin' hits, the first Jork'Il pull the anchor belts ip through the deck." When the hawser had hern mndo ast to the mainmast, the leathern tings of Mr. Gibney made due an iiounrpment of the fact to the ex |