Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1919-04-16

to regain his feet as soon as I. This
time he charged me like a wild bull,
froth whitening his lips, scarcely ap-
pearing human in the yellow light. In
mad rage he forgot all caution, his
one thought to reach me with his
hands, and throttle me into lifeless
pulp. / fought him back, driving blow
on blow through his guard. side-step-
ping his mad rusheS, landing again
and again on his body. Twice got
in over his heart, and at last, found
the chance I sought, and sent right
jab straight to the chin. All the force
of one hundred and eighty pounds was
behind the clenched fist, and the negro
went down as though 1oored by
,poleax. Once weakly he endeavored
to rise, but this time / used my left,
and he never stirred again, lying
there with no sign of life except the
quivering of the. huge body. Assured
that he was down and out, 1 stood
above him, gazing into the ring Of ex-
cited faces.
"That's one attended to-" I said
shortly. "Now is there any more of
you who would like to fight this out?"
There was no answer although the
ring widened under the threat of my
eyes, and met sullen faces here and
there. / was in no mood to take
chances.
Carlson" I said, 'you know all
these men. Pick out those you can
trust, and have them stand over there
to the right Call them out by name;
be lively now"
They stepped forth eagerly enough,
and ranged themselves before the
hunks, the faces mostly those of north
ern Europe, although a negro or two
was among them. AS the Swede
ceased calling, six or seven yet re-
manned clustered in front of me,
motley lot, one of them an Indian, the
others mostly half-breeds. I glanced
from face to face inquiringly.
"How about it, your" / asked. "Are
there any more of you fellows who
take a chance with us? This is my
last Offer
"What's the game?" asked a sullen
voice in English, and bearded fellow,
burned black, pushed his way to the
front. 81 used ter be Scotch; now 1
don't know what am. One flag is
as good as another ter me-only
want to know what sorter game I'm
playin' in. Who are yer? An wizard
yer cum frum2" "a
II am an English seaman" an
swered shortly, land how 1 came
aboard makes no difference. Right
now I am the only navigator on the
Namur. Estada is dead--knifed last
night by one of the buccaneers. Man
uel Estevan had hand in the bust
ness, and he's safely locked in state
room aft. Captain Sanchez is wound
ed and helpless, and those cut-throats
matches. LeVere and are the officers
left, and we control the deck"
eyer mean those fellers were amin
ter take the ship?"
EXACTLY that; now where are you
lads? With Manuel and his bunch of
pirates? Or with us?"
"What er yer going ter do with US,
| an this ship? That's the fu'st ques-
tion."
! I had not decided that even in my
own mind, but the answer came
promptly enough.
II am going to leave that to the crew.
AS soon as we have all secure, I'll
have every man on deck, and then
Wen talk it over. That's fair enough
isn't it?"
sit looks fair. Come on, mates; I'm
fer the Englishman."
Only one followed him, however, a
sheep-faced boy; the others remained
sullen and defiant. I had no further
time to waste in explanations. I
glanced up at Carriers face framed in
the scuttle hole. =,
Garter, pass these men up and take
them forward with the others. Turn
them over to Watkins. Then come
back here, and report to me-"
They went up the ladder one by
one, and disappeared onto the deck
above. Carlson and / watched the
others until Carter stuck his head
once again through the opening.
Cali safe, sir-they was like lambs.'
"Very well; stand by to help. Now
you lads, lift this black and shove him
up to where they can get hold above"
They hoisted the unconscious form
up the ladder and forced it through
the hole onto the deck. At my stern
command they crawled forth into the
sunlight. There they picked up Co
chose and carried him aft.
went to the main hatch, and had
the cover slipped to one side, the
armed sailors gathering close about
the edge, as peered down. 1t was a
scene of pandemonium, revealed in the
yellow flame of slush lanterns, group
of white faces showing clearly, as the
prisoners below struggled forward,
gesticulating and shouting. Ignoring
their mad roaring, and the threat of
leveled guns, stared down at the in
furiated faces, until the clamor ceased
sufficiently to let my voice be heard.
what are you men trying to do,