Blow the Man Down by Holman Day (read the beginning after the end novel .TXT) 📖

Then obey your bo's'n's call,
Walk away with that cat-fall!
And we'll think on those girls when we can no longer stay.
And we'll think on those girls when we're far, far away.
--Unmooring.
For the first few moments, after being snatched up in that fashion, Mayo hung from the dolphin-striker without motion, like a man paralyzed. He was astounded by the suddenness of this abduction. He was afraid to struggle. Momentarily he expected that the fabric would let go and that he would be rolled under the forefoot of the schooner. Then he began to grow faint from lack of breath; he was nearly garroted by his collar. Carefully he raised his hands and set them about a stay above his head and lifted himself so that he might ease his throat from the throttling grip of the collar. He dangled there over the water for some time, feeling that he had not strength enough, after his choking, to lift himself into the chains or to swing to the foot-rope.
He glanced up and saw the figurehead; it seemed to be simpering at him with an irritating smile. There was something of bland triumph in that grin. In the upset of his feelings there was personal and provoking aggravation in the expression of the figurehead. He swore at it as if it were something human. His anger helped him, gave him strength. He began to swing himself, and at last was able to throw a foot over a stay.
He rested for a time and then gave himself another hoist and was able to get astride the bowsprit. He judged that they must be outside the headland of Saturday Cove, because the breeze was stronger and the sea gurgled and showed white threads of foam against the blunt bows. His struggles had consumed more time than he had realized in the dazed condition produced by his choking collar.
He heard the popping of a motor-boat's engine far astern, and was cheered by the prompt conviction that pursuit was on. Therefore, he made haste to get in touch with the _Polly's_ master. He scrambled inboard along the bowsprit and fumbled his way aft over the piles of lumber, obliged to move slowly for fear of pitfalls, Once or twice he shouted, but he received no answer, He perceived three dim figures on the quarter-deck when he arrived there--three men. Captain Candage was stamping to and fro.
"Who in the devil's name are _you?_" bawled the old skipper. "Get off'm here! This ain't a passenger-bo't."
"I'll get off mighty sudden and be glad to," retorted Mayo.
"Well, I'll be hackmetacked!" exploded Mr. Speed shoving his face over the wheel. "It's--"
"Shut up!" roared the master. "How comes it you're aboard here as a stowaway?"
"Don't talk foolishness," snapped Captain Mayo "Your old martingale spikes hooked me up. Heave to and let me off!"
"Heave to it is!" echoed Oakum Otie, beginning to whirl the tiller.
Captain Candage turned on his mate with the violence of a thunderclap. "Gad swigger your pelt, who's giving off orders aboard here? Hold on your course!"
"But this is--"
"Shut up!" It was a blast of vocal effort. "Hold your course!"
"And _I_ say, heave to and let that motor-boat take me off," insisted Mayo.
Captain Candage leaned close enough to note the yacht skipper's uniform coat. "Who do you think you're ordering around, you gilt-striped, monkey-doodle dandy?"
"That motor-boat is coming after me."
"Think you're of all that importance, hey? No, sir! It's a pack of 'em chasing me to make me go back into port and be sued and libeled and attached by cheap lawyers."
"You ought to be seized and libeled! You had no business ratching out of that harbor in the dark."
"Ought to have taken a rising vote of dudes, hey, to find out whether I had the right to h'ist my mudhook or not?"
"I'm not here to argue. You can do that in court. I tell you to come into the wind and wait for that boat."
"You'd better, Cap Candage," bleated Oakum Otie. "This is--"
"Shut up! I'm running my own schooner, Mr. Speed."
"But he is one of the--"
"I don't care if he is one of the Apostles. I know my own business. Shut up! Hold her on her course!"
He took two turns along the quarter-deck, squinting up into the night.
"Look here, Candage, you and I are going to have a lot of trouble with each other if you don't show some common sense. I must get back to my yacht."
"Jump overboard and swim back. I ain't preventing. I didn't ask you on board. You can leave when you get ready. But this schooner is bound for New York, they're in a hurry for this lumber, and I ain't stopping at way stations!" He took another look at the weather, licked his thumb, and held it against the breeze. "Sou'west by sou', and let her run! And shut up!" he commanded his mate.
Mayo grabbed one of the yawl davits and sprang to the rail.
"We're some bigger than a needle, but so long as the haystack stays thick enough I guess we needn't worry!" remarked Captain Candage, cocking his ear to listen to the motor-boat's exhaust.
"Hoi-oi!" shouted Mayo into the night astern. He knew that men hear indistinctly over the noise of a gasoline-engine, but he had resolved to keep shouting.
"This way, men! This way with that boat!"
"'Vast heaving on that howl!" commanded Candage.
But Mayo persisted with all his might. His attention was confined wholly to his efforts, and he was not prepared for the sudden attack from behind. The master of the _Polly_ seized Mayo's legs and yanked him backward to the deck. The young man fell heavily, and his head thumped the planks with violence which flung him into insensibility.
When he opened his eyes he looked up and saw a hanging-lamp that creaked on its gimbals as it swayed to the roll of the schooner. He was in the _Polly's_ cabin. Next he was conscious that he was unable to move. He was seated on the floor, his back against a stanchion, his hands lashed behind him by bonds which confined him to the upright support. But the most uncomfortable feature of his predicament was a marlinespike which was stuck into his mouth like a bit provided for a fractious horse, and was secured by lashings behind his head. He was effectually gagged. Furthermore, the back of his head ached in most acute fashion. He rolled his eyes about and discovered that he had a companion in misery. A very pretty young woman was seated on a camp-chair across the cabin. Her face expressed much sympathy.
He gurgled a wordless appeal for help, and then perceived that she was lashed into her chair.
"I wish I could take that awful thing out of your mouth, sir."
He gave her a look which assured her that he shared in her desire.
"My father has tied me into this chair. I tried to make him stop his dreadful talk when the boats came and burned the lights. He put me down here and made a prisoner of me. It is terrible, all that has been happening. I can't understand! I hope you will not think too hard of my father, sir. Honestly, he seems to be out of his right mind."
He wanted to return some comforting reply to this wistful appeal, but he could only roll his head against the stanchion and make inarticulate sounds.
"He seemed to be very bitter when he brought you below. I could not make him listen to reason. I have been thinking--and perhaps you're the gentleman who led the singing which made him so angry?"
Mayo shook his head violently in protest at this suspicion.
"I didn't mind," she assured him. "I knew it was only in fun." She pondered for a few minutes. "Perhaps they wouldn't have teased one of their city girl friends in that way--but I suppose men must have a good time when they are away from home. Only--it has made it hard for me!" There were tears in her eyes.
Mayo's face grew purple as he tried to speak past the restraining spike and make her understand his sentiments on the subject of that serenade.
"Don't try to talk, sir. I'm so sorry. It is shameful!"
There was silence in the cabin after that for a long time. He looked up at the swinging lamp, his gaze wandered about the homely cabin. But his eyes kept returning to her face. He could not use his tongue, and he tried to tell her by his glances, apologetic little starings, that he was sorry for her in her grief. She met those glances with manifest embarrassment.
After an absence which was prolonged to suit his own sour will in the matter, Captain Candage came stamping stormily down the companionway. He stood between his captives and glowered, first at one and then at the other.
"Both of ye blaming me, I reckon, for what couldn't be helped."
"Father, listen to me now, if you have any sense left in you," cried the girl, with passion. "Take that horrible thing out of that gentleman's mouth."
"It has come to a pretty pass in this world when an honest man can't carry on his own private business without having to tie up meddlers so as to have a little peace." He walked close to Mayo and shook a monitory finger under the young man's nose. "Now, what did ye come on board here for, messing into my affairs?"
The indignant captain put forth his best efforts to make suitable retort, but could only emit a series of "guggles."
"And now on top of it all I am told by my mate, who never gets around to do anything that ought to be done till it's two days too late, that you are one of the Mayos! Why wasn't I informed? I might have made arrangements to show you some favors. I might have hove to and taken a chance, considering who you was. And now it's too late. Everybody seems to be ready to impose on me!"
Again Mayo tried to speak.
"Why don't you shut up that gobbling and talk sense?" shouted the irate skipper, with maddening disregard of the captive's predicament.
"Father, are you completely crazy? You haven't taken that spike out of his mouth."
"Expect a man to remember everything when he is all wrapped in his own business and everybody trying to meddle with it?" grumbled Candage. He fumbled in his pocket and produced a knife. He slashed away the rope yarn which lashed the marlinespike. "If you can talk sense I'll help you do it! I reckon you can holler all you want to now. Them dudes can't find their own mouths in a fog, much less this schooner. Now talk up!"
Mayo worked his aching jaws and found his voice. "You know how I happened to get aboard, Captain Candage. I am skipper of the _Olenia_. Put back with me if you want to save trouble."
"Not by a tin hoopus, sir! I ain't going about and tackle them reefs in this fog. I've got open sea ahead, and I shall keep going!"
Mayo was a sailor who knew that coast, and he admitted to himself that Candage's stubbornness was justified.
"I ain't responsible for your getting aboard here. I'll land you