Wild Norene. Johnston McCulley

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СКАЧАТЬ his day, but he's getting careless. Must be feeling his age."

      Captain Adams's shoulders straightened, but Guerrero warned him and he slouched forward in his chair again.

      "Meaning just what?" Morgan asked.

      "What's his old scow doing?" asked Connor.

      "Lumber, Portland to Mazatlan," said Morgan.

      "Oh, she carries a deck-load of lumber, all right," said Connor, laughing. "But what she carries in her hold is the joke."

      "Contraband?" one of the men asked.

      "Not so loud, friend. We don't want to queer Cap'n Adams's deal. Only he's getting careless. I know what he's up to; and if I know it, what must persons know whose business it is to find out. He isn't carrying opium or chinks, if that is what you mean. But he's got an interesting cargo, all the same."

      "Meaning?" asked Morgan.

      "Meaning it is none of our business," said Connor. "Only I'd hate to see an old sea-dog like Cap'n Adams spend his last years in a Federal prison."

      The face of Captain Adams flushed, then grew ashen as the meaning of the man's words came to him.

      This man knew—he knew.

      And, across the table, Señor Guerrero muttered a good Spanish oath that has no just equivalent in English and started to rise from his chair.

      But Captain Adams gripped his arm so that the bone almost snapped, and the señor resumed his seat.

      "Queer old fish, the cap'n," Jack Connor went on. "And that niece of his—What about her? I never heard much of it."

      Morgan enlightened him.

      "They call her Wild Norene; she is Captain Adams's brother's girl, and she's lived with the cap'n for ten years, since her daddy died. Sails with him all the time. Cap'n taught her to read and write aboard the schooner. Pretty as a picture, strong as a man yet soft as a woman, and wild and untamed."

      Connor laughed.

      "She needs a man to tame her, maybe."

      "Maybe you'd like the job," chuckled Morgan.

      "And I could do it if I was in the woman-taming business," Connor answered. "Honestly, I mean. I'll bet I could make her love me—make her promise to marry me. I could tame her so she'd eat out of my hand."

      Again Guerrero restrained the captain, whispering to him that he could wait for vengeance—that to betray himself now meant to spoil their enterprise.

      Morgan and the others were laughing.

      "Why, she won't even look at a man," said Morgan. "She's waiting to find one that measures up to her uncle, Cap'n Bill Adams; and she'll have a long wait, I'm thinkin'."

      "If what I hear is true, she'll have a long wait," assented Connor. "Won't look at a man, eh? If I was in the woman-taming business, I'd make her look at me. Pretty, eh?"

      "Like a picture," said one of the men. "I really saw her once."

      "I'm getting interested," remarked Connor, laughing again.

      "And you're gettin' blamed inconsistent—I guess that's the right word. A few minutes ago you raised blue blazes' because we mentioned a certain young lady in this place, and now you're not only mentioning one, but you're mentioning names."

      Jack Connor's face grew sober.

      "There's a difference," he said. "There are but two classes of women. One class should never be mentioned by such men as us—they're too good. And the other class—what's the difference? This niece of Cap'n Bill's—this Wild Norene, as you call her—scarcely comes under the first class."

      Captain Adams's face grew ashen again and he gripped the sides of the table, but made no attempt to get out of his chair.

      Guerrero felt sudden fear; he knew Captain Adams was waiting for this Jack Connor to go so far—then the blow would fall.

      "For God's sake, señor," he whispered, "don't wreck our plans! Wait until the other business is disposed of; then we can find this Jack Connor and you can kill him. Hold on to your temper! We can find him easily; he'll be about all night."

      Captain Adams's lips were set tightly; he looked across the table at Guerrero and nodded assent.

      "This Wild Norene," Connor was saying, "must be the other sort. I don't know what her father was, but we all know her uncle. Bucko mate once, he was! Blackbirder, too. Traded in human flesh! His name's a terror in the South Seas. He's been a smuggler; he is yet. He's pulling off a crooked deal right now! And this Wild Norene has been on his schooner, knows his life and how he makes his money, helps him no doubt; so what sort of a girl do you suspect her to be? Too good to be mentioned in a place like this? I'm sorry for the girl, but—bah!"

      They nodded their heads as they picked up the drinks a Chinese had placed on the table.

      Captain Adams was looking straight at Guerrero and not seeing him, and a tear was rolling down the captain's cheek.

      No man ever knew the pain he suffered in that instant. Like a flash, his life was before him—his life and Norene's. Captain Bill loved his niece, worshiped her. And he realized now, how men regarded her. They measured her by his standard.

      But Connor had been wrong.

      Adams never had been a blackbirder—never had dealt in human beings. He had been honest, in a way, in his dealings. He had broken revenue laws, smuggled Chinese, carried arms and ammunition to revolutionary armies, and landed them by dodging gunboats; but he had been honest in business dealings.

      And Norene, he thanked Heaven, was innocent of it. She did not know the truth.

      He had kept her with him rather than placing her in a school, because he thought he could guard her better so. And now it appeared from this man's talk that he had made a great mistake.

      But he felt rage at the thought that this man could talk so. He could tame Norene, could he? She was of the sort to be spoken of lightly?

      Captain Adams said nothing aloud, but he cursed bitterly in his heart and stored up rage against Jack Connor, the man he had liked at a first glance.

      Guerrero was looking across the table at him appealingly.

      "I'll not spoil our plans," the captain whispered to him. "I'll wait!"

      "Heaven be thanked, señor! I—I was afraid! After we have attended to this other business you'll—you'll kill this man?"

      "There are things worse than death, Guerrero. And this is my own affair; keep your nose out of it!"

      The men at the other table had risen and were scattering, some of them returning to the bar, some going to the gambling tables, others crowding about the platform where Sally Wood was playing.

      Captain Adams heard Guerrero gasp—realized that one of the men had stopped beside him.

      "Can I trouble СКАЧАТЬ