The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-04-21
THE DECkHAND.

THE DECkHAND.
It was feature OF Herringbourne that
the people always wanted something to
lean against. AS individuals they leaned
against walls; as community they were
held up by the church, the brewery and
Hurley's Fleet. When the church had
done its ''teas" and the brewery its malt
ing the Fleet was a strong supporter.
On a November afternoon, when the
branches of the trees on the quay were
black and bare, the water in the harbor a
mud color and the blocks on the rigging of
the moored ships stood out like warts
against a cold, gray sky, Genth Hurley,
the Fleet owner, was doing what all
| owners do--he was paying a smack's
crew their poundage. The, smack had
lust come up and the crew, in duffels,
guernseys and sou'westers, were scattered
about the office. They were stalwart
set OF men with basin-cropped heads and
shaved necks. Some had brought their
shifting bags ashore. and, with the
cheerful ease of men who had not washed
for eight weeks, sat on the tops of them.
One big fellow, seated thus, nursed on his
sea boots boy so small and black that he
looked as if he had just dropped down a
flue He was the cook.
"Well, skipper" said Genth, as he put
first one and then another little pile of
money on his desk, ''what sort of weather
have you had2"
"Well, owner" said the skipper, who
was feeling about his head for a chaw of
tobacco, which he had dabbed at his SOU
wester and lost in his hair, "I'll speak the
truth. 1t wos b'isterous. A tree reeved
sail an the little jib nearly all the time,
an mount'ins o. sea on the Dogger. Also,
a most unfortunate circumstance; a-comin'
home poor Billy Dabbs nearly had his
bows stove in with the mainsul bume."
81 see," said Genth, ''you are a man
short. I'm sorry about poor Billy. Per-
haps one of you will take him his pound
age? You'll have to ship another man,
Holmes. Here's your money, my lads
He laid the last little pile of money on
his desk. One by one the crew claimed
their own. When all were paid, and the
sound Of the last pair of sea boots had died
on the pavement, GeEth started to put The
books right. He was about eight-and-
twenty, with dark hair, dark eyes, and
plain earnest face. Before he had finished
the soft illumination of the setting sun had
tinted the muddy water that eddied against
the bridge. When the red-tiled roofs on
the opposite side were a glowing orange he
heard knock. "Come inP' he cried.
The invitation met no prompt response.
There was a tumble with the handle,
fatiguing wiping of feet on the flags, then,
as if by electricity, the door flew open.
"We1l?" said Genth. what is it?"
81 have come" said the visitor, ''about
berth-on smack"
'It's no use coming to me, my man."
co., Vorr ~ = - l.
pers. | don't ship any ope.5
"The shippers" said the other; s'why,
they'd laugh at me. / don't believe they'd
have me for ballast. Yet they'd have
given something for nod from me once.
/ had no need then to come like beggar to
the Fleet-not 1. You know that, Hur-
ley"
For the first time Genth looked up. His
pen dropped from his fingers and made
great blot on the neatly ruled page. tom
Harrington" he exclaimed.
"All that's left of him." said the arrival
with smile that seemed to court some
sort of praise for the remains; rather
shady, down at the heel, pockets empty,
shorn of his splendor, but Tom Harrington
STILL
Genth surmised as much. Tom Harring-
ton was the son of Herringbourne solicit
tor. The old lawyer had worked hard to
save money; his son. to spend it. In three
or four years Tom Harrington had spent
the accumulations of thirty or forty. Yet
he had been more fortunate than Genth
Hurley, for he had won from Genth the
woman he loved. AS Genth looked at
Harrington the change in the latter
startled him. There still existed the cut
of the man, trimness, jauntiness. His
hands were still small and white, his face
handsome. But the fire in the shifty blue
eyes burned low; they. were encircled by
dark, hollow rims, and the full, red lips
were shade blue and tremulous. He was
Genth's age, but looked older. He had lost
lot of health in the shearing process.
going the pace, but / never thought it was
so bad as this. I'm sorry"
"Don't-don't preach; get enough of
that at home"
Genth's dark eyes unconsciously hard
ened. "How were you brought to this?"
he asked.
''Cs and B's-cards and billiards--and
incidentally, BIS and SIS. In my time
have backed many horses. If they'd won
| shouldn't have been here. Understand,
I'm not the only one-plenty have been
broke besides me. In gentlemanly games,
too. All of us love sport. 1t is the back
bone of England. / can't see it's my fault;
it's the old MANS"
Genth looked at him inquiringly.
IF the old man didn't mean me to be a
gentleman, why did he make gentleman
of me? Why did he send me to tip-top
school, give me frst-class ideas and then
die and not leave me enough money to de-
velop these frstrclass ideas? That puz-
zles me. Now, if hadn't been soft fool
if | had married woman who had got a
Bit
Genth's eyes grew harder He picked up
his pen and slowly drew a piece Of bloCting
paper over the ink blot. Glow is your
wife?" he asked abruptly.
ssOh, Nell is all right She takes a bit
of dressmalzing and millinery She was al
ways handy girl with he. fingers, But
trade has fallen off with her; SO
I'm forced to do something. Oh, you
needn't look at me like that. I have tried
before. l tried once for place as billiard
marker, but some other fellow got there |
IL