The Montgomery tribune. (Montgomery City, Mo.) 1892-1910, 1910-01-21
CHAPTER ~.
In Which ! Meet My Crew.

The polite hotel clerk halted me as
I passed his desk on the way out with
information that a drunken naval Off
Ter-evidently Sanchez-had been
there twice already seeking me, had
also asked for Lord Darlington, and
you'd return again at ten o'clock. 1
thanked him, smiling to myself, won-
dering II the English robleman was
to be 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.
! have wandered by night through
most Of the seaports of the world,
knowing we'll the intricacies and dark
places OF Port Said, Melbourne and
CALCUTTA, but I doubt If ever 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 bestiaf
fioting the scum of the South seas,
and here flourish their parasites. Any
night a trip alone through those foul
ydACb III VI liz hIuu u tcSL SIEOus
nerves; but on this special occasion,
khe way filled with pandemonium and
drunkenness, the entire city a riot
pr noisy violence, the populace aroused
to fierce hate toward all foreigners,
the passage was one of constantly re-
curring danger. The street lights, few
end far between, were mere blotches
bf color winking feebly at the sur
bounding darkness, the rough cobble-
Etone pavement underfoot was irregu-
lar and d~eceitful, while drunken
crowds, either quarrelsome or maui
dinghy affe~ctionate, surged aimlessly
about, gesticulating and yelling with
Latin fervor. However, + knew the
way we'll, and kept myself hidden from
observation by lowering close beneath
the protecting shadows of the build
1ngs, drawing well back within door
ways to permit the noiser parties of
Jewellers to pass, and then hurrying
forward along the deserted streets. 1
one drunken man, while sounds Of
quarreling were borne to me through
the open door of every low taproom /
passed. The scum of Valparaiso had
come to the top, the fires of hell burn
ing iercely.
Pedro Rodrigues' den stood some-
what back from the narrow lane 1t
fronted, flanked and concealed by
taller buildings on either side. It vas
4 ramshackle, wooden affair, sagging
sadly at one corner, the half dozen
steps leading to the open door being
only dimly lighted. AS 1t was a we'll
known resort, frequented almost en-.
|tfrely by foreign seamen who would
scarcely be safe on the streets such
ai night as this, it was no surprise to
discover the taproom densely
crowded with sailor-men, and to dis
tpnguish a voice singing Justify in Wig
|drous English, to an accompaniment
{of glasses pounding upon the rough
BABIES. Indeed, a wild, hilarious mob
greeted me loudly as / pressed aside
YtEe heavy curtain and stepped within.
I cast a quick, comprehensive glance
over the faces, upturned through the
fenveloping haze-Swedes and Firms
from the North sea, Dutchmen of the
baltic, hairy Engllshmen from the
Rkchannel, Yankees of the West Allan
tic. b~each-combers from out Of the
South seas, with here and there a
negro or brown-faced Kanaka to add
to the variety. Faith, it was a choice
collection, as though the wide waters
of the world had been skinned to
bring together that ARE crew OF beau
ties. Perched high upon a table, his
hong legs encased in sea boots, seated
hstride a chair, sat the singer his
mop Of coarse red hair standing erect,
his Jaw that of a bulldog. the scar Of
b recent knife wound showing CHASTITY
across one cheek, his blue shirt open