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When Tom Duggan was able to sit up again, which was six weeks later, he wrote an article about his experience, which was published in an I. W. W. paper, and afterwards in pamphlet form was read by many hundreds of thousands of workingmen.
They were deep in the lap of the mountains when they camped for the night. After supper, smoking his pipe, Duggan stretched himself out comfortably with his back to a tree. "Good thing you come along when you did, Johnny," he said. "I been waitin' in that valley ten days, an' the eats was about gone when you hove in sight. Meant to hike back to the cabin for supplies tomorrow or next day.
It's an honor to stand befacin' such a audonce to spek a wor'r'd, he says, 'for me frend, James de Duggan. Somebody yells, 'Well, yer work f'r him, that's why. 'Sure, I wor'rks for him, says Tony, 'and I wor'r'ks har'rd f'r him, he says, 'and that's more'n you do f'r the man dats payin' you good mon ev'ry week what you don't ear'r'r'n.
The cost was twenty-five cents a plate, but the gods never feasted more grandly in Olympus than these two simple, loving souls in that grimy Duggan street restaurant. Over his coffee the major gave a sudden start and looked guiltily into Patricia's eyes. "Now, then," she said, quickly catching the expression, "out with it." "It's a letter," said the major.
We did our best, the dear knows." Mrs. Kearney had to go back to the dressing-room. The artistes were arriving. The bass and the second tenor had already come. The bass, Mr. Duggan, was a slender young man with a scattered black moustache. He was the son of a hall porter in an office in the city and, as a boy, he had sung prolonged bass notes in the resounding hall.
"By , it's perfectly shocking," said Phil, "but what else could you expect from them?" "Duggan," said Val, "what is this, here's a mistake you are short three pound ten."
For a moment Duggan was silent. Then he exploded with a sudden curse. "SORRY! What the devil you sorry for, Johnny? You treated her square, an' you left her almost all of Conniston's money. She ain't no kick comin', and she ain't no reason for feelin' like she does. Let 'er go to the devil, I say.
"Beggin' your pardon, sir, it's all right," replied Duggan; "you see, your honor, here's my little account for the work I wrought for you for five weeks wid horse and cart, up until I put my knee out o' joint in the quarry you remember, sir, when I brought it to you, you said to let it stand, that you would allow for it in the next gale."
As an instance of the utter untrustworthiness of these Indian or British accounts of the American losses, it may be mentioned that Duggan says the Indians brought off forty scalps, and killed an unknown number of Americans in addition; whereas in reality only two were slain. A Large War Party Attacks Fort Recovery.
Duggan having, I regret to say, departed for England on the death of her husband, I went round to Victoria, Ambas Bay, on the Niger, and in spite of being advised solemnly by Captain Davies to "chuck it as it was not a picnic," I started to attempt the Peak of Cameroons as follows. September 20th, 1895. Left Victoria at 7.30, weather fine.
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