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Updated: May 25, 2025
From Westmoreland Travis drove straight toward the town. The trotters, keen and full of play, flew along, tossing their queenly heads in the very exuberance of life. At The Gaffs, he drew rein: "Now, Jim, I'll be back at midnight. You sleep light until I come in, and have their bedding dry and blankets ready." He tossed the boy a dollar as he drove off.
Another day of heart-breaking and dangerous toil saw us in camp with the two topmasts to the good. The day following I was desperate, and I rafted together the foremast, the fore and main booms, and the fore and main gaffs. The wind was favourable, and I had thought to tow them back under sail, but the wind baffled, then died away, and our progress with the oars was a snail's pace.
Travis put his revolver back into his overcoat pocket and quieted his mare. The two men, one a negro and the other a mulatto, came up to his saddle-skirt and stood waiting respectfully. "You should have awaited me at The Gaffs, Silos." "We did, sir," said the mulatto, "but the boys are all out here in the woods, and we wanted to hold them together. We didn't know when you would come home."
Princes and dukes had conspired to inaugurate the most singular scheme that ever was, the Kyrle Society, for bringing beauty home to the people by means of decorative art, gardening, and music. The Bulgarian Atrocities had served to give new life to all penny gaffs and blood-tubs.
He saw things clearly, strongly, quickly. His assurance made all things sure. He knew things and was proud of it. He knew himself and other men. And best of all, as he thought, he knew women. Richard Travis was secretary and treasurer of the Acme Cotton Mills. To-night he was alone in the old-fashioned but elegant dining-room of the Gaffs.
'Open that door by the order of the sheriff! he cried at the jailer. 'Here's the order; look at it, but don't you look at me. Fight you in a minit. And then he came in, and the first thing he told me was that they had gaffs on. He said that he had fought hard to keep mother from coming, at night when the rest were asleep; and I swore that she must not come, but she did.
The staffs themselves were like ships' masts, with topmasts spliced on in true nautical fashion, with shrouds, ratlines, gaffs, and flag-halyards. From the gaff of one, two gay flags hung limply, one a checkerboard of blue and white squares, the other a white pennant centred with a red disc. It was the international code signal of distress. On the far corner of the compound fence a hawk brooded.
It was the first cock-fight most of us cable-ship people had ever seen, and it was hard to understand the wild enthusiasm of the natives when, after unsheathing the steel gaffs on the roosters' legs, the birds were allowed to make their preliminary dash at one another.
She who alone uplifted him she another's, and that other Tom Travis! Tom Travis returned and idealized with him, the joint heir of The Gaffs. And that mad-dog that damned mad-dog! And if perchance he was saved if that virus was sucked out of his veins, it was she Helen! "This is the place to die," he said grimly "here with my boots on. To die like a Travis and unravel this thing called life.
That was easy, too too far away for the whisper of it ever to come back. If he failed in that he would marry her. She was beautiful and with a little more age and education she would grace The Gaffs. So he might marry her and set her up, a queen over their heads. This was his determination when he went to the mill the first of the week.
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