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Show Hungry Men By KARL GRAYSON (Associated Newspapers WNU Service.) r THE Alice Martin was heading north, carrying a heavy cargo car-go and a crew of eleven men, besides Capt. Perry Haskins and his officers. She had run into unusually heavy weather, coming around the Horn, and had been driven far from her course. When once more quiet waters were reached, the vessel was several weeks behind schedule. But Captain Haskins was confronted con-fronted by a predicament far more serious than the damage done by the storm and the subsequent loss of time. Toivo Kling, the Finnish cook, had reported a food shortage. Many of the stores had either been rendered unfit to eat or had been washed overboard by the heavy seas. Worse still. First Mate Roy Greeley Gree-ley reported that the crew was poignantly aware of the food shortage, short-age, and that there were rumblings ) among them. "We'd better put in at Talalmo," the mate advised. "We can replenish replen-ish our food supply there and" Captain Haskins interrupted by pounding the table that stood between be-tween them with a powerful fist. "We'll keep our course, mister," he thundered. "And get along on what rations are left. You can tell that to the crew and tell them, too, that the first jack man of 'em who utters a word of complaint will be put in irons." First Mate Greeley nodded submissively sub-missively and withdrew. He was And the food served was far from delectable and poorly seasoned. Even Captain Haskins glowered at the tray which Toivo Kling apologetically apologet-ically carried into his cabin. Toward evening of the second day six members of the crew consulted in a corner of the fo'c'sle quarters. A burly Irishman named Harrigan did the talking and the others listened lis-tened intently. "Everything's set," Harrigan was saying. "Tonight's the night If we wait longer we'll all be too weak to do anything. The six of us can take over the ship and put her in to Talamo." "And be hanged for mutiny," a dark-faced Italian said. Harrigan glowered. "It's either mutiny or be starved to death. One way we got a chance, the other we die whatever. Which'll it be?" There was a deep throated murmur mur-mur from the group. The dark-skinned dark-skinned Italian remained silent. He was hungry, and with Harrigan as their leader they might be able to succeed in their purpose. There were only three officers to subdue, besides the captain. The remainder of the crew would remain neutral, ready to jump to the winning side in any event. Shortly after the time that supper was usually served, Harrigan strolled on deck and walked as far forward as custom permitted without with-out attracting attention. A moment later the dark-skinned Italian followed, fol-lowed, and then one by one the remaining re-maining four emerged from the companionway ' and assumed positions posi-tions previously designated by Harrigan. Har-rigan. As darkness shut down the six drew together. The glint of a revolver flashed in Harrigan's hands. The others produced belaying belay-ing pins from beneath their jackets. They were grim-faced, gaunt, ugly of expression. "O. K.," Harrigan whispered, "follow me." He started forward, keeping in the shadows near the port rail. The others flitted ghostlike ghost-like at his heels. Suddenly Harrigan Harri-gan paused. Directly in his path loomed two figures, easily recognizable recog-nizable in the semi-darkness as the first and second mates. They were talking together in low tones. Harrigan took a firm grip on his revolver, raised it to the level of the first mate's head, and was in the very act of thrusting forward, when a voice spoke out of the darkness. The voice was that of Cap'n Haskins, Has-kins, and it came from the bridge over their heads. "Mister Greeley!" the voice shouted. shout-ed. "Oh, Mr. Greeley!" The first mate started and looked up. "Aye, aye, sir!" The captain's voice came down, sharp and crisp. "Change your course, mister. Immediately. We're putting in to Talamo." There was a silence, a silence filled with astonishment and unexpectedness. unexpected-ness. Then First Mate Greeley called out an "Aye, aye, sir," and turned toward his companion. "It worked," he whispered jubilantly. jubi-lantly. "Doggone if it didn't!" "What worked?" The second mate was plainly puzzled. "The scheme I talked over with the cook." He laughed softly. "The old man's human after all. Kling served him the poorest victuals of anyone. Cap'n couldn't eat 'em, they were so rank. And then that smart Finn went back to his galley and opened the port, which is directly direct-ly beneath the old man's cabin and concocted enough appetizing odors to make a hungry man's stomach shrivel up. And the old boy couldn't take it. When he smelled them odors he had to have food or go crazy." Seaman Harrigan held his breath, shrinking against the rail. But presently the officers moved away and he turned. Blank astonishment appeared on his face, for behind him the deck was empty. "Put everyone on half rations. It's up to you to make the supplies last another fortnight." aware of the captain's predicament, and up to a certain point he sympathized sym-pathized with it. Putting into Talamo Tala-mo would mean a delay of another two weeks, and the owners of the Alice Martin weren't the type of men who listened to excuses, when every day's delay meant a loss of money. Greeley descended into the crew's quarters and found Toivo Kling talking talk-ing with the crew. The sailors' faces were ugly. Watching them it was not difficult for the mate to guess their thoughts. There was trouble brewing. "Blast you!" he roared. "Get on deck! The lot of you! And the first jack man that lets out a yip of complaint gets thrown in irons!" The crew hesitated a moment and then sullenly filed up through the hatch, Toivo Kling was the last to go, and Mate Greeley stopped him with a gesture. "Keep away from the men, Kling. If trouble comes you don't want to be in on it. You know the penalty of mutiny on the high seas." The Finn knew it only too well. He had been compelled to consult with the crew against his will. But he was entirely in sympathy with their mood. "There isn't enough food to last a week," he explained desperately. "And the crew know it. They want to put in to Talamo." "There'll be no putting in to Talamo. Cap'n's orders. Put everyone ev-eryone on half rations. It's up to you to make the supplies last another an-other fortnight." Kling gestured helplessly. "I've already put 'em on half rations, sir. And at best the supply wouldn't last over a week." He glanced furtively about. "We'd better put in to Talamo, Tala-mo, sir. There'll be mutiny, sure as all git out, if we don't." First Mate Greeley appreciated the seriousness of the situation a great deal more than he admitted to the cook. After a few more words, he went on deck and consulted Scc- Pond Mate Bert Han. "The Old Man's goofy, if he thinks he can keep the crew from mutinying. mutiny-ing. It was bad enough being blown off our course and nearly losing the ship, let alone handing out skimpy half rations." The second mate scowled. He was a big man with a tremendous appetite and a sharp temper, a temper tem-per which being deprived of food hadn't helped any. "There's trouble trou-ble a-brewin' as sure as you're born, and I for one can't blame 'em any." The first mate's eyes gleamed. "Better keep that talk to yourself, mister. It's up to us to stick with the Cap'n. Anyway, Ive just been talking with the cook, and we're going to try a plan. Keep the crew as busy as you can." The Alice Martin remained on her course for another day and part of the second. The usual three meals had been reduced to one, at noon. |