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Skinner had never seen Cappy Ricks so wrought up. He fled at once to call off the dogs, while Cappy turned to his desk and wrote this telegram: San Francisco, California. June 28, 19 . Matt Peasley, Care United States Marshal, Hoquiam, Washington. Congratulations on splendid voyage. You busted record. Lindquist, in the John A. Logan, did it in eighty-four days in the spring of ninety-four.
We didn't need the commotion and consternation among Oscar's countrymen to help us interpret. He had seen Nils. "What's the matter with you?" demanded Lynch. Lindquist answered for Oscar. Nils was at the wheel. Oscar had gone aft to relieve Newman, and he had seen his dead shipmate at the wheel, steering the ship. He was afraid to relieve a ghost. "Oh, rot!" says Lynch.
"Oho, that brought you out of it hey, you sniveling this-and-that!" hailed Fitzgibbon. He lifted his aim from Lindquist, and brought the weapon to bear upon Holy Joe. "Step aft, here, you swab, or I'll drill you through, s'help me!" The words brought a menacing growl from the squareheads; there was a stir among them, and they seemed about to fling themselves upon the trio.
Nils was delirious, staring up at us with brilliant, unseeing eyes, and babbling in his own lingo. "He say, mudder, mudder," commented Lindquist in a choked voice. "I know his mudder." Newman explored the hurts with his finger, and his gentle touch brought gasps of agony. His face grew very grave. Then he ripped up a blanket, and with my assistance, skillfully bandaged Nils about the body.
You must have dreamed at your Sybeel understand?" was Newman's prompt reply. It took a moment to filter into the squarehead's mind. But he got it. "So ja, it ban dream; I see noddings," he said. "And you say nothing?" "Ja, even to mineself I say noddings," promised Lindquist. At the foc'sle door, Newman placed a detaining hand upon my shoulder and held me back.
If Swope offers an indignity to the boy's body, even I will not be able to restrain Nils' mates. Surely Swope has guessed that. I have planned to bury the lad from the foredeck just as quickly as preparations can be made; that is why Lindquist is at work on the forehatch. If Swope is overlooking this chance, he must have something else up his sleeve." He got to his feet and moved toward the door.
Newman had been "queenin'," with his feet in the ocean, so to speak. But he had been up to something else, as well. As he and I walked forward, after the watch was relieved, we were overtaken by Lindquist, who was coming from the helm. "Vat you ban doing mit da longboat to-night?" he asked Newman, curiously. "Nothing, lad.
Medicines and opiates were sent forward by the lady, but, though they eased the chap, they were powerless to salvage his wrecked body. Newman said Nils' ribs were sticking into his lungs. Lindquist went aft to ask permission to move the boy to the cabin, where the lady could nurse him. Swope blackguarded the man, and Fitzgibbon kicked him forward.
"Lindquist must be nearly finished. I will carry out my plan at any hazard. Common decency demands we should not let the boy be cast into the sea by the very men who murdered him." At the door we were met by Olson, one of the squareheads, come to tell Newman that all was ready for the burial.
I quote Podmore, who is commenting upon the trance utterances of a Mrs. Lindquist: "It is to be noted that the ascription of these somnambulic utterances to spirit intelligences was in the circumstances not merely easy but almost inevitable.
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