The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1922-02-23

here until l can root out the wheels Of
these guns. Here they are. labeled
cream separator Stand by with that
sling to-"
But, Glib, my dear boy" protested
Captain Scraggs. this is insanity"
II know It," said Mr.. Gibney calmly.
"Scraggsy, you're perfectly right. But
I'd sooner die fightin' than let them
stand me up agin a wall In Ensenada.
We're filibusters, Scraggsy, and we're
caught with the goods. !, for one, am
goin' down with the steamer Maggie,
but I'm goin' down fghtin' like a
bear"
"Maybe-maybe we can outrun her,
Glb," half sobbed Captain Scraggs.
"No hope" replied Mr.. Gibney.
Fight and die is the last resort.
She's eight miles astern and gainln'
every minute, and when she's within
two miles she'll open fire. OF course,
we won't be hit unless they've got a
Yankee gunner aboard"
Lets run up the Stars and Stripes
and dare em to fire on u.s." said Cap
tain Scraggs.
NO" said Mr.. Glbney firmly, "my
old man died for the flag an I've
sailed under 1t too long to hide be-
hind II when I'm in Dutch. Well
fight. II you was ever navigatln' Of
ficer on a Colombian gunboat, Scraggs,
you'd realize what 1t means to run
from Mexican"
Captain Scraggs said nothing fur
ther. Perhaps he was little ashamed
OF himself In the face OF Mr.. Glib
ney's simple faith in his own ability;
perhaps In his veins, all unknown,
there flowed a talnt of the heroic
blood of some forgotten sea-dog. Be
that as 1t may, something did swell
in his breast when Mr.. Gibney spoke
Of the flag and his scorning to hide
behind 1t, and Scraggs' snaggle teeth
came together with a snap.
"All right, Glib. my boy" he said
solemnly, I'm with you. Mrs. Scraggs
has slipped her cable and there amt
nobody to mourn for me. But IL we
can't fight under the Stars and Stripes,
by the tail Of the Great Sacred Bull,
wen have a flag Of our own" and
leaving Mr.. Gibney and the crew to
get the guns on deck, Captain Scraggs
ran below. He appeared on deck pres
was emblazoned In white letters the
single word Maggie. 1t was his own
housefag. and with trembling hands
he ran II to the fore and cast Its
wrinkled folds to the breeze of heaven.
Coed old dishclothl" shrieked Mr..
Gibney. "She never comes down."
I'D II she does" said Captain
Scraggs profaneiy.
While all this was going on, a deck
hand had reeved block and tackle
through the end OF the cargo gaff
and passed II to the winch. The two
guns came out Of the hold In Jig time,
and while Scraggs and one deckhand
opened the after hold and got out am
munitlon for the guns, Mr.. Gibney, as
sisted by the other deckhand, pro-
ceeded to put one Of the guns to-
gether. He was shrewd enough to
realize that he would have to do prac-
tically all Of the work Of serving the
gun himself. In view OF which condi-
tion one gun would have to defend
the Maggie. He had never seen a
mountain gun before, but he did not
find 1t difficult to put the simple me-
chanism together.
"Now, then, Scraggsy," he an
nounced cheerfully when the gun was
finally assembled on the carriage,
get a slzeable timber an spike II to
the center o. the deck. I'll run the
trail spade up against that cleat an
that1l keep the recoil from lettln' the
gun 30 backward, clean through the
opposite rail and overheard. Gimme
a coupler gallons O. dlstlllate an some
waste. somebody. This cosmollne's
got TO come out o. the tube an out o.
the breech mechanism before we COM
mence shootin'."
The enemy had approached within
three miles by the time the piece was
ready for action. Under Mr.. Gibney's
instructions Captain Scraggs held the
fuse setter In case It should be nee
essary TO adjust with shrapnel. Mr..
Gibney inserted his sights and took G
preliminary squint. "A little differ
ent from gun-polntin' In the navy, but
about the same principle" he declared.
"In the army believe they call this
kind o. shootin' direct FIRE. because
you sight direct on the target" He
scratched his ingenious head and ex-
amined the ammunition. "Not a high
explosive shell In the lot" he mourned.
"T'll have to use percussion fire to get
the range; then I'll drop back a little
an spray her with shrapnel. Seems
a pity TO smash up a fine schooner
like that one with percussion fire. I'd
rather tickle 'em up a bit with
shrapnel an scare 'em into runnin'
away"
He got out the lanyard, slipped a
cartridge In the breech. paused, and
scratched his head again. His calm