Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1911-09-01
Blackport town Law a half-mile from

of much importance in the palmy days
of American shipping, but sadly gone
to decay in later and less prosperous
times. AS yet the hour was early, but
nobody seemed abroad in the narrow
streets. Greylock passed along by
gabled, weather beaten houses and lit
tie shops from which the trade had
plainly departed. and so came to
a windy corner, where, facing an old,
ruined wharf, stood the one public
house Of the place-"Poole's Inn," as
everybody in and about Blackport
called it.
It was a low, square building, with
an ancient signbord swinging over the
entrance door. Many years of expo
sure to sun and tempest and salt winds
had robbed 1t Of all outward comeli-
ness. OF it's original red hue little was
now left save streaks and blotches. 1t
looked like an Indian in faded war
paint The barroom window blinked
on the right side of the door, and had
no curtain to temper its inviting
brightness; so, as he reached it, Grey
lock, knowing that such liberties were
never resented by the inmates Of this
old-fashioned public house, stepped up
to the glass and looked through.
The room within was low-ceiled,
clean, comfortable, but full now Of to-
bacco smoke, in the midst Of which a
sheet-iron stove, crammed to the ut
most with fuel. glowed like a cyclop's
eye. Grouped about this hot centre a
half-dozen men were pulling at clay
pipes and talking in loud voices.
Ike Poole, the innkeeper, built like
a duck-short in the legs and rotund Of
body, and with a face which, by rea-
son of long intimacy with his own
Medford rum, had acquired a flame
like a beacon-sat nearest the stove,
and seemed disposed. at intervals, to
embrace it. Another man, in a rough
pea jacket and Of a briny appearance
generally, had seated himself on the
bar and was swinging his legs, encased
in immense sea-boots, back and forth
against Ike Poole's broad back, with
the regularity of breakers shifting a
rock.
Look here, Caleb Brown" said the
innkeeper, turning at last on his tor
menter and speaking so loud that
Greylock outside could hear every
word, "have the goodness to keep your
lively legs to yourself, man, and I'll be
uncommonly obleeged to ye."
The griZZled man of amphibious as
pect glared at Poole and briefly an
swered, II want some rum!"
You'd better pay for what you've
had already" said a censorious voice
out of the smoke on the other side Of
the redhot stove.
Il want" repeated Mr.. Brown, in an
aggrieved tone, "some rum that hasn't
vitriol and turpentine and all the other
blowed p'isons in it. But it's nowise
likely that I'll find such in this place"
IF Mercy happens in and sees you
a-sitting on that bar, with your fishy
jacket-tail in the clean glasses, there1l
be music" said Ike Poole.
Mr.. Browns boots struck the speak
er's back as the hammer strikes the
anvil.
DO ye think I'm afeard Of that long
tongued jade?' he cried, scornfully.
"A man as is a man." with a whitening
look at the innkeeper, don't knuckle
to any she-critter like that. I'd set her
a-lobstering, if she belonged to me, or
a-digging Backport beach, over for
Captain Kidd's buried treasure"
Ike Poole, being a peaceable man,
moved to give the legs more room, and
answered. somewhat meekly:
Would ye, though? Being bachel-
or, Mr.. Brown, you don't know the
ways of women"
Brown laughed extensively.
"The gray mares the better horse
in your stable man. Come, be ye 60
ing to give me the rum, or be ye not?"
"Ye're half seas over already" re-
piled the innkeeper; better go home
while we can keep yer precious legs un-
der ye."
With an offended snort, Mr.. Brown
snatched up a tumbler from the bar
and sent it flying into the midst Of
the smokers.
Scatter, you lubbers!" he roared. and
a bottle followed the glass, and then
Il jug-in fact, Mr.. Brown was sweep
ing the bar clean, to the CONSERVATION
of the company, not one of whom
seemed disposed to arrest his hand,
when the door flew open, and young
girl appeared like a comet in a cloud
in the midst of the tobacco smoke.
Not a word escaped her; but she
flashed up to Caleb Brown, seized him
by the collar of his rough pea-jacket
and jerked him off the bar. 1t was
useless for him to struggle-he was no
match for Mercy Poole. She dragged
him across the floor. straight in the
passage, and, opening the outer door of
the inn, pitched him headlong into the
street.
Good night, Mr.. Brown" she called
after him, dcrsively; go dig for Cap
tain Kidd's treasure OH Blackport
beach,"
The man had fallen like a bomb at
Greylock's very feet. Laughing in spite
of himself, the young fellow picked him
up.
Hello, Caleb" he said, Mercy has a
vigorous hand. That was well done for
"a long-tongued jade, eh?"
Mr.. Brown shook in his big sea-
boots and looked around with a dazed
air.
Devil take hcr!" he muttered at last,
and with a snort of wrath and disgust
he went staggering away down the
street. Grcylock stepped into the inn.
"Huld!" he cried to the girl, who was
Just i'm the act of closing the door
don't shut mo out, Mercy"
At sound of that well known voice
she staggered back a step and grew
white as death.
Robert" she gaspcd. lis il you?'