Harrigan by Max Brand

Author:Max Brand [Brand, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Westerns, Fiction
ISBN: 9781604504002
Publisher: Arc Manor LLC
Published: 2008-09-24T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22.

But McTee, deep in thought, was walking from the bridge. He went straight 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 day before; Campbell, it appeared, had taken him for some special job. With this 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 orders to Campbell, and told him what sort of a man he could expect to find in Harrigan.”

“I've just talked to the firemen. They say that Harrigan didn't handle a 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 man that ever sailed the seas with White Henshaw, and it may be he's using the 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 like discipline 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, sounds which 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 in another key. Ha-ha!”

He tasted the results of his disciplining already, but just as he placed his hand on the knob of the door, another sound checked him and made him turn with a puzzled frown toward McTee. It was a ringing baritone voice which rose in an Irish love song.

“What the devil—” began Henshaw.

“You're right,” nodded McTee. “It's the devil—Harrigan. Open the door!”

The captain flung it open, and they discovered the two worthies seated at ease with a black bottle and two glasses at hand. Campbell, in the manner of a musical critic of some skill, leaned back in a chair with his brawny arms folded behind his head and his eyes half closed. Harrigan, tilted back hi a chair, rested his feet on the edge of a small table and swept the guitar which lay on his lap. In the midst of a high note he saw the ominous pair standing in the door, and the music died abruptly on his lips.

He rose to his feet and nudged Campbell at the same time. The latter opened 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 sit down!”

In spite of his bluster his red face was growing blotched with patches of gray. Harrigan, less moved than any of the others, calmly replaced the guitar in its green cloth case.

“I sent this fellow down to be put at hard work,” said Henshaw, and waited.

It was obvious to Harrigan that the chief engineer was in mortal fear.

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