Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1909-07-27
CHAPTER ".

I passed his desk on the way out with
information that a drunken naval Off
cer-evidently Sanchez-had been
there twice already seeking me, had
also asked for Lord Darlington, and
would return again ct ten o'clock. 1
thanked him, smiling to myself, won
dering II the English nobleman was
to he challenged also. and promptly
disappeared into the night without.
The unfortunate affair with the ag-
grieved lieutenant had become a small
matter no longer troubling me.
I have wandered by night through
most OF the seaports Of the world,
knowing well the fntrcacies and dark
places OF Port Said, Melbourne and
Calcutta, but doubt II even the un-
speakable orient can equal for dirt,
squalor, crime and peril those narrow,
crooked alleyways where sailors most
do congregate 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 pandemonium and
drunkenness, the entire city Q riot
Of noisy violence, the populace aroused
to fierce hate toward all foreigners,
the passage was one Of constantly re.
curing danger. The street lights, few
and far between. were nero blotohes
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 mau-
dinghy affectionate. surged aimlessly
about, gesticulating and yelling with
Latin fertor. However, knew the
way we'll, 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 moro than
one drunken man, while sounds of
quarreling were borne to me through
the open door of every low taproom 1
passed. The scum Of Valparaiso had
come to the top. the fires Of hell burn
ing fiercely.
Pedro Rodrfgues' den stood some
what back from the narrow lane It
fEonted, ffanked and concealed by
taller buildings on either side. It was
a ramshackle, wooden affair. sagging
sadly at one corner, the half dozen
steps leading to the open door being
only dtmiy lighted. As it was a 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 dig
tinguish voice singing Justify in Wig.
orous English, to an accompaniment
OF glasses pounding upon the rough
tables. Indeed, wild, hilarious mob
greeted me loudly as pressed aside
the heavy curtain and stepped within.
cast q quick, comprehensive glance
over the faces, upturned through the
enveloping hazs-swedes and Films
from the North sea, Dutchmen Of the
Baltic, hairy Engl1shmen from the
channel, Yankees Of the West Allan.
tic, beach-combers from out Of the
South seas, with here and there a
negro or brown-faced Kanaka to odd
to the variety. Faith, it was choice
collection, az though the wide waters
Of the world had been SKINNED to
bring together that rare crew of bs:;::=
ties. Perched high upon a table. his
long legs encased in sea boots, seated
asttide chair. sat the singer, his
mop Of coarse red hair standing erect,
his jaw that OF a bulldog, the scar Of
recent knife wound showing CHASTITY
across one cheek, his blue shirt open
at the throat to reveal q hairy chest:
beneath thatehed brows his eyes
glinted and cleaned IN ferocious ct.
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 70. Give NJ q swias
to 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 ye can do. Now at It:
The captain's bride vas fair to $50;
Sw1us har6! bend low! s.
Ghs Knocked at hind: she smiled 1t mo;
Swing hard! bend lovi
49,. 80 s45f5