Omaha daily bee., 1884-02-12
Spindle Jacks Ghost.

III nAlChlNo Woo bAVhtAh " - AiH1a
old man who sat on the head of a beef
keg. whats become of old Cap'n Tip.
pockl / don't know. l used to sail on
the old Sycamore with him." he said as
he took a short clay pipe from his mouth
and shook his head solemnly and medit-
atively. The speaker was a square built
man who looked as though he had faced
wind, rain and snow for at least fifty
years. He was seated before a rod.hot
stove in a River street saloon and a crowd
of rough men, whose tank proclaimed
them to be sailors, completed a ring
about the glowing fire. Scene of them
were partially intoxicated, and all were
smoking old pipes which sent forth an
odor strong and rank. "There was
something singular about that old boat, "
the old man continued thoughtfully, after
a pause, land if you don't mind, ~fellers,
I'll tell we about her" His companions
settled themselves comfortably to listen
to the story, and after replenishing his
pipe he began. ''She was built long he.
fore the war-one of the first propellers
on the lakes. Big, high up and short,
she was like a tub. Couldn't go much,
but then we thought she was a regular
clipper. l shipped in her somewhercs
about '53 or "a. Ole Cap'n Tippock was
master. He treated his men well. Used
to get drunk every week, and, in fact, he
was pretty well soaked all the time. On
the first trip the mate left us, an the ole
man got another at Detroit. That was q
bad day for the old Sycamore. He was
a little man, with lighthair and big yell
low chin whiskers. Even his eye lashes
were almost white. We knew him as
Mister Gross. The new mate was a
iirst-rate seaman, but a mighty mean
one to his men. Many a cussin' I've got
from him for not reaching the dock every
time l cast the h%eaving-line for the shore
when we came to land. We had a funny
little chap with us as deck hand. We
called him Spindle Jack, because he was
SO weak and small. But he was as sharp
as a weasel, and knew more than all
the Others put together. Some kind of a
literary fellow, l reckon, trying to get up
his muscle; but he never talked much
about himself. One day when we
were near Buffalo some of
us put up a job on the mate.
We nearly sawed off a round of the
wooden ladder going up to the hurricane
dock, and when the mate came down he
nearly broke his neck. He suspected
the little fellow and sworc he'd get even
with him sometime. In the fall of '51
we left Chicago with a cargo of corn.
AS soon as We were out of port Capt.
Tippock got fuller'n a tick, but we got on
all right and reached the straits. The
old man ven to bed an we stood off
into Lake Huron. Mister Gross was
savage. The weather began to thicken
and we had a nasty sea on by dark.
At midnight we men were called out.
The sea was heavy and our old tub rolled
like a ball. The wind blew terrible, and
it was black as ink. The sheet anchor,
which was outside the bows, old. fashioned
style, had broken loose, and the hukes,
were pounding against the sides. The
mate yelled to Spindle Jack to 60 over
the side down onto the anchor with a line
SO as to haul it back in place. The little
fool didn't stop to put the line about his
waist, but took the end in his hand and
clambered over. sprang forward with
a lantern to save him, but was too late.
He chung to the swinging anchor like a
squirrel. Once a wave struck him and
nearly washed him away, but he chung
hard. He was passing a blight OF the
line under n of the hukes, when the
Sycamore gave a lurch that sent him
under water, and careening back, the
anchor was pounded against the side with
fearful force. Poor little Jack got be-
tween the fiuke and the vessel, bad luck
to him. The next instant he was gone.
Then saw him just a few feet away.
He was on the side of a big wave, which
seemed to lift him up like a cork. By
my lantern l saw him raise out of the
water as far as his waist and shake
his fist at the mate. | looked around.
Gross was leaning far over
the rail, gazing with white face and pale
lips at the man in the water. 1 looked
back. There was nothing to be seen but
black heaving waters. The wind soughed
and moaned through the rigging and |
turned in, feeling kinder creepy about
the backbone. Lads, this happened in
Georgian bay, and you all know the bot
tom of that black hole isn't far from the
pits of hell. We got the anchor off all
right, but in the morning we found that
we hadn't made much Roadway in the
gale. Night came on and / felt kind O.
queer. The sky blackened up and the
sea chopped just like they did the even
ing before. An the wind began to howl
and screech through the riggin'. / kept
a sharp eye On the mate. He was fpale
and tidgity, but seemed calm. L had the
midnight watch at the wheel, and three
times did l see that man try to 90 INTO
the texas and lay down, and three times
did see him turn about and pace the
hurricane deck as though pulled by some
awful force. / remember it was lust /
o'clock when poor Jack went. At /
o'clock on this night / heard a kind of a
noise like that made by the bow of a boat
cutting through the water. 1t was on
the port bow, and ! sprang like a tiger to
that side. / expected we were beng
run into, and in the twinkling of an eve
had put the helm hard.a.port. But what
did / seel The mate was bending over
the side till it seemed he would 90 over
every time the boat rolled, and out be-
yond him was something that made my
hair stand up and seem to turn gray. On
the side of a wave, black as tar, was
Spindle jack waist. high out of water,
shaking his fist at Gross. Oh, but his
face was pale, and it seemed to have a
queer kind of a smile like a feller'd have
when he was numbering another in cold
blood. / could see him as plain as day,
an his hand was bloody where it had
been mashed by the anchor. Before |
could look twice he was gone. When the
mate came up his face was like a piece o.
writing paper, and he lookeda at me out of