Tramping on Life. Harry 1883-1960 Kemp

Tramping on Life - Harry 1883-1960 Kemp


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ship was detained for ten days more after its cargo had been unloaded.

      At the trial, during which the "old maids" and The Sailors' Aid Society came to the fore, Captain Schantze roared his indignant best—so much so that the judge warned him that he was not on his ship but on English ground. …

      Franz got a handsome verdict in his favour, of course.

      And for several days he was seen, rolling drunk about the streets, by our boys, who now looked on him as a pretty clever person.

      It was my time to run away—if I ever intended to. Within the next day or so we were to take on coal for the West Coast. We were to load down so heavily, the mate, who had conceived a hatred of me, informed me, that even in fair weather the scuppers would be a-wash. Significantly he added there would be much danger for a man who was not liked aboard a certain ship … by the mates … much danger of such a person's being washed overboard. For the waves, you know, washed over the deck of so heavily loaded a ship at will.

      On the Lord Summerville was a mad Pennsylvania boy who had, like myself, gone to sea for the first time … but he had had no uncle to beat timidity into him … and he had dared ship as able seaman on the big sky-sailed lime-juicer, and had gloriously acquitted himself.

      He was a tall, rangy young bullock of a lad. He could split any door with his fist. He liked to drink and fight. And he liked women in the grog-house sense.

      One of his chief exploits had been the punching of the second mate in the jaw when both were high a-loft. Then he had caught him about the waist, and held him till he came to, to keep him from falling. The mate had used bad language at him.

      Hoppner had worked from the first as if he had been born to the sea.

      He and I met in a saloon. The plump little barmaid had made him what she called, "A man's drink," while me she had served contemptuously with a ginger ale.

      Hoppner boasted of his exploits. I, of mine.

      "I tell you what, Gregory, since we're both jumping ship here, let's be pals for awhile and travel together."

      "I'm with you, Hoppner."

      "And why jump off empty-handed, since we are jumping off?"

      "What is it you're driving at?"

      "There ought to be a lot of loot on two boats!"

      "Suppose we get caught?" I asked cautiously.

      "Anybody that's worth a damn will take a chance in this world. Aren't you game to take a chance?"

      "Of course I'm game."

      "Well, then, you watch your chance and I'll watch mine. I'll hook into everything valuable that's liftable on my ship and you tend to yours in the same fashion."

      We struck hands in partnership, parted, and agreed to meet at the wharf-gate the next night, just after dark, he with his loot, I with mine.

      I spent the morning of the following day prospecting. I had seen the captain put the ship's money for the paying of the crew in a drawer, and turn the key.

      But first, with a curious primitive instinct, I fixed on a small ham and a loaf of rye bread as part of the projected booty, in spite of the fact that, if I but laid hands on the ship's money, I would have quite a large sum.

      It was the piquaresque romance of what I was about to do that moved me. The romance of the deed, not the possession of the objects stolen, that appealed to my imagination. I pictured my comrade and myself going overland, our swag on our backs, eluding pursuit … and joining with the natives in some far hinterland. I would be a sort of Jonathan Wilde plus a François Villon.

      Before the captain returned I had surveyed everything to my satisfaction … after supper the captain and the two mates left for shore again.

      Now was the time. I searched the captain's old trousers and found the ship's keys there. They were too bulky to carry around with him.

      The keys seemed to jangle like thunder as I tried them one after the other on the drawer where I had seen him put away the gold.

      I heard someone coming. I started to whistle noisily, and to polish the captain's carpet slippers! … it was only someone walking on deck … The last key was, dramatically, the right one. The drawer opened … but it was empty! I had seen the captain—the captain had also seen me. Now I started to take anything I could lay my hands on.

      I snatched off the wall two silver-mounted cavalry pistols, a present from his brother to Schantze. I added a bottle of kümmel to the ham and the rye bread. The kümmel a present for Hoppner.

      Then, before leaving the Valkyrie forever, I sat down to think if there were not something I might do to show my contempt for Miller. There were many things I could do, I found.

      In the first place, I took a large sail-needle and some heavy-thread and I sewed two pairs of his trousers and two of his coats up the middle of the legs and arms, so he couldn't put them on, at least right away. I picked up hammer and nails and nailed his shoes and sea-boots securely to the middle of his cabin floor. Under his pillow I found a full flask of brandy. I emptied half … when I replaced it, it was full again. But I had not resorted to the brandy cask to fill it.

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