The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1905-01-19
'Well, Of course Pm aUith gou, can, %


it into your think tank, an lay to what
say. It's all the ways from fifty to
! seventy thousand dollars, whatever her
cargo is. Call it sixty thousand-thirty
! thou apiece. Oh, I don't know!r' he
exclaimed, lapsing to Landmarks slang.
"Wha'd say about a million to one
on the unexpected at sea?'
''Thirty thousandv' exclaimed Will
bur, without thought as yet
! "Now y'r singin' SONGS cried the
captain. Listen to me, son. he went
on, rapidly shutting up the glass and
thrusting it back in the case "My
names Kitchell, and I'm hog right
through" He emphasized the words
with a leveled forefnger, his eyes
flashing. Hog spells very truly
yours, Alvinza Kitchell; ninety-nine
swine an me make a hundred swine.
I'm a shote with both feet in the
trough first, last an always If that
bark's abandoned, an I says she is,
she's ours. I'm out for anything that
there's stuff in. I guess I'm more of a
beachcomber by nature than anything
else. If she's abandoned she belongs
to us. To blazes with this cody game.
Well go beachcombin', you an I.
Well board that bark an work her
into the nearest port-San Diego,
guess-an' get the salvage on her if
we have to swim in her. Are you with
me?'' He held out his hand. The man
was positively trembling from head to
heel. 1t was impossible to resist the
excitement of the situation, it's novelty
the high crows nest Of the schooner,
the keen salt air, the Cinnamon group
ed far below, the indigo of the warm
ocean, and out yonder the forsaken
derelict, rolling her light hull till the
cardboard streak flashed in the sun.
! "Well, of course I'm with you, cap"
exclaimed Wilbur, gripping Kitchell's
hand. "When there's thirty thousand
to be had for the asking I guess I'm a
'na'chel bawn' beachcomber myself
"Now. nothing about this to the
coolies''
"But how will you make out with
your owners? Aren't you bound to
bring the Bertha in?"
"Rot my owners!" exclaimed Kitch-
ell. Il amt skipper Of no oil boat
any longer. I'm beachcomber." He
fixed the wallowing bark with glisten-
ing eyes. 'Strike me-" he murmured.
faint she daisy? It's a little Klon-
dixie. Come on, son!''
The two went down the ratlines, and
Kitchell ordered couple of the hands
into the dory that had been rowing
astern. He and Wilbur followed. Char
lie was left on board, with direction to
lay the schooner to. The dory flew
over the water, Wilbur setting the
stroke. In a few moments she was
we'll up with the bark. Though lar
ger boat than the Bertha Millner. she
was rolling in lamentable fashion. and
every iaboring heave showed her bot
tom incrusted with barnacles and sea-
weed
Her fore and main tops'ls and to'gal-
lants'ls were set, as also were her low
er stays'ls and royals. But the braces
seemed to have parted, and the wards
were swinging back and forth in their
ties. The spanker was brailed up, and
the Spanker boom thrashed idly over
the poop as the bark rolled and rolled
and rolled. The mainmast was work
ing in its shoe. The rigging and back
stays sagged. An air of abandonment,
of unspeakable loneliness, of abomina-
ton, hung about her. Never had Will
bur seen anything more utterly alone
Within three lengths the captain rose
In his place and shouted:
Ozark ahoy!'' There was no answer.
Thrice he repeated the call, and thrice
the dismal thrashing of the spanker
boom and the tapping of the sails were
the only answers. Kitchell turned to
Wilbur in triumph. II guess she's
ours" he whispered They were now
close enough to make out the bark
name upon her counter, Lady Lefty,
and Wilbur was in the act of reading
It aloud when huge brown dorsal fin,
Ike the triangular sail of a lugger, cut