Michael, Brother of Jerry. Джек Лондон

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СКАЧАТЬ to drown me if I fell in head first. Yet I want to ask you one question. Can you see me takin’ ten quid for you?.. Go on. Speak up. Can you?”

      And Michael, with thumps of tail to the floor and a high sharp bark, showed that he was in entire agreement with whatever had been propounded.

      “Or say twenty quid, now. That’s a fair offer. Would I? Eh! Would I? Not on your life. What d’ye say to fifty quid? That might begin to interest me, but a hundred quid would interest me more. Why, a hundred quid all in beer ’d come pretty close to floatin’ this old hooker. But who in Sam Hill’d offer a hundred quid? I’d like to clap eyes on him once, that’s all, just once. D’ye want to know what for? All right. I’ll whisper it. So as I could tell him to go to hell. Sure, Killeny Boy, just like that – oh, most polite, of course, just a kindly directin’ of his steps where he’d never suffer from frigid extremities.”

      Michael’s love for Steward was so profound as almost to be a mad but enduring infatuation. What the steward’s regard for Michael was coming to be was best evidenced by his conversation with Captain Duncan.

      “Sure, sir, he must ’ve followed me on board,” Daughtry finished his unveracious recital. “An’ I never knew it. Last I seen of ’m was on the beach. Next I seen of ’m there, he was fast asleep in my bunk. Now how’d he get there, sir? How’d he pick out my room? I leave it to you, sir. I call it marvellous, just plain marvellous.”

      “With a quartermaster at the head of the gangway!” Captain Duncan snorted. “As if I didn’t know your tricks, Steward. There’s nothing marvellous about it. Just a plain case of steal. Followed you on board? That dog never came over the side. He came through a port-hole, and he never came through by himself. That nigger of yours, I’ll wager, had a hand in the helping. But let’s have done with beating about the bush. Give me the dog, and I’ll say no more about the cat.”

      “Seein’ you believe what you believe, then you’d be for compoundin’ the felony,” Daughtry retorted, the habitual obstinate tightening of his brows showing which way his will set. “Me, sir, I’m only a ship’s steward, an’ it wouldn’t mean nothin’ at all bein’ arrested for dog-stealin’; but you, sir, a captain of a fine steamer, how’d it sound for you, sir? No, sir; it’d be much wiser for me to keep the dog that followed me aboard.”

      “I’ll give ten pounds in the bargain,” the captain proffered.

      “No, it wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all, sir, an’ you a captain,” the steward continued to reiterate, rolling his head sombrely. “Besides, I know where’s a peach of an Angora in Sydney. The owner is gone to the country an’ has no further use of it, an’ it’d be a kindness to the cat, air to give it a good regular home like the Makambo.”

      CHAPTER VIIII

      Another trick Dag Daughtry succeeded in teaching Michael so enhanced him in Captain Duncan’s eyes as to impel him to offer fifty pounds, “and never mind the cat.” At first, Daughtry practised the trick in private with the chief engineer and the Shortlands planter. Not until thoroughly satisfied did he make a public performance of it.

      “Now just suppose you’re policemen, or detectives,” Daughtry told the first and third officers, “an’ suppose I’m guilty of some horrible crime. An’ suppose Killeny is the only clue, an’ you’ve got Killeny. When he recognizes his master – me, of course – you’ve got your man. You go down the deck with him, leadin’ by the rope. Then you come back this way with him, makin’ believe this is the street, an’ when he recognizes me you arrest me. But if he don’t realize me, you can’t arrest me. See?”

      The two officers led Michael away, and after several minutes returned along the deck, Michael stretched out ahead on the taut rope seeking Steward.

      “What’ll you take for the dog?” Daughtry demanded, as they drew near – this the cue he had trained Michael to know.

      And Michael, straining at the rope, went by, without so much as a wag of tail to Steward or a glance of eye. The officers stopped before Daughtry and drew Michael back into the group.

      “He’s a lost dog,” said the first officer.

      “We’re trying to find his owner,” supplemented the third.

      “Some dog that – what’ll you take for ’m?” Daughtry asked, studying Michael with critical eyes of interest. “What kind of a temper’s he got?”

      “Try him,” was the answer.

      The steward put out his hand to pat him on the head, but withdrew it hastily as Michael, with bristle and growl, viciously bared his teeth.

      “Go on, go on, he won’t hurt you,” the delighted passengers urged.

      This time the steward’s hand was barely missed by a snap, and he leaped back as Michael ferociously sprang the length of the rope at him.

      “Take ’m away!” Dag Daughtry roared angrily. “The treacherous beast! I wouldn’t take ’m for gift!”

      And as they obeyed, Michael strained backward in a paroxysm of rage, making fierce short jumps to the end of the tether as he snarled and growled with utmost fierceness at the steward.

      “Eh? Who’d say he ever seen me in his life?” Daughtry demanded triumphantly. “It’s a trick I never seen played myself, but I’ve heard tell about it. The old-time poachers in England used to do it with their lurcher dogs. If they did get the dog of a strange poacher, no gamekeeper or constable could identify ’m by the dog – mum was the word.”

      “Tell you what, he knows things, that Killeny. He knows English. Right now, in my room, with the door open, an’ so as he can find ’m, is shoes, slippers, cap, towel, hair-brush, an’ tobacco pouch. What’ll it be? Name it an’ he’ll fetch it.”

      So immediately and variously did the passengers respond that every article was called for.

      “Just one of you choose,” the steward advised. “The rest of you pick ’m out.”

      “Slipper,” said Captain Duncan, selected by acclamation.

      “One or both?” Daughtry asked.

      “Both.”

      “Come here, Killeny,” Daughtry began, bending toward him but leaping back from the snap of jaws that clipped together close to his nose.

      “My mistake,” he apologized. “I ain’t told him the other game was over. Now just listen an, watch. ’n’ see if you can catch on to the tip I’m goin’ to give ’m.”

      No one saw anything, heard anything, yet Michael, with a whine of eagerness and joy, with laughing mouth and wriggling body, was upon the steward, licking his hands madly, squirming and twisting in the embrace of the loved hands he had so recently threatened, making attempts at short upward leaps as he flashed his tongue upward toward his lord’s face. For hard it was on Michael, a nerve and mental strain of the severest for him so to control himself as to play-act anger and threat of hurt to his beloved Steward.

      “Takes him a little time to get over a thing like that,” Daughtry explained, as he soothed Michael down.

      “Now, Killeny! Go fetch ’m slipper! Wait! Fetch ’m one slipper. Fetch ’m two slipper.”

      Michael looked up with pricked ears, and with eyes filled СКАЧАТЬ