The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1909-05-06
CHAPTER w.
In Which I Meet My Crew


The polite hotel clerk halted me as
passed his desk on the way out with
information that drunken naval Off
cer-evidently Sauchez-had been
there twice already seeking me, had
also asked for Lord Darlington, and
would return again at ten o'clock.
thanked him, smiling to myself. won
dering if the English nobleman was
20 be challenged also, and promptly
disappeared into the night without
The unfortunate affair with the ag-
grieyed lieutenant had become a small
matter no longer troubling me
have wandered by night through
most of the seaports of the world,
knowing well the intricacies and dark
places of Port Said, Melbourne and
Calcutta. but I doubt If even the I'M
speakable orient can equal for dirt.
crooked alleyways where sailors most
do congreeate against the VALPARAISO
waterfront. Here gather in bestial
rioting the scum of the South seas,
and here flourish their parasites. Any
night trip alone through those foul
lanes is of the kind to test strong
nerves; but on this special occasion.
the way filed with Dandemonium and
drunkenness, the entire city riot
OF noisy violence. the populace aroused
10 fierce hate toward all foreigners,
the passage was one of constantly re-
In do
and far between, were mere blotches
of color winking feebly at the sur
rounding darkness, the rough CobbIe-
stone pavement underfoot was irregu-
lar and deceitful, while drunken
crowds, either quarrelsome or man
dinghy affectionate. surged aimless]y
about, gesticulating and yelling will
Latin fervOr However. | knew the
way well, and kept myself hidden from
observation by lowering close beneath
the protecting shadows of the build
tngs, drawing well back within door
ways to permit the noiser parties Of
jewellers to pass. and then hurrying
forward along the deserted streets.
stumbled over the body OF more than
one drunken man. while sounds OF
quarreling were borne to me through
the open door Of every low taproom I
passed. The scum of Valparaiso had
come TO the top, the fires of hell burn
ing tiercely.
Pedro Rodrigues' den stood some
what back from the narrow lane 1t
fronted, nanked and concealed by
taller buildings on either side. 1t was
a ramshackle, wooden affair sagging
sadly at one corner the half dozen
steps leading to the open door being
only dimly lighted. AS it was well
known resort, frequented almost en-
tirely by foreign seamen who would
scarcely be safe on the streets such
night as this, it was no surprise to
discover the taproom denSely
crowded with sailor-men. and to dis
tinguish a voice singing Justify in Wig
orous English, to an accompaniment
OF glasses pounding upon the rough
tables. Indeed. a wild, hilarious mob
greeted me loudly as | pressed aside
the heavy curtain and stepped within.
cast quick, comprehensive glance
over the faces, upturned through the
enveloping haze-Swedes and Firms
from the North sea, Dutchmen Of the
Baltic, hairy Englishmen from the
channel, Yankees of the West Allan
tic, beach-combers from out Of the
South seas, with here and there a
4
TO the variety. Faith it was a choice
collection, as though the wide waters
of the world had been SKINNED to
bring together that rare crew of beau
ties. Perched high upon a table, his
long legs encased ia sea boots. seated
astride a chair, sat the singer, his
mop OF coarse red hair standing erect.
his jaw that OF bulldog, the scar OF
a recent knife wound showing CHASTITY
across one cheek, his blue shirt open
at the throat to reveal a hairy chest :;
beneath matched brows his eyes
glinted and cleaned in ferocious at
tempt at good humor.
Sing, ye bullies," he roared, after
one inquiring glance toward me, bring
ing his heavy glass down on the back
OF the chair, Lay it out fer the gent,
whut has just come calm on ye. Tune
up, ye sea dogs. I'm no hopera hartist
here to entertain ye. Give us a swing
90 the chorus now, or I'll shy this mug
into yer bloomin faces. Lift the tune.
my hearties. and show the dagoes out
side whut we can do. Now at it,
The captains bride was fair to see:
Swing hardl bend low
She Knocked at him, she smiled at me:
Swing hard! bend low!