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Updated: June 4, 2025
But before I came out I got mixed up with a man called Hurley, a professional gambler." "And Diaz?" queried a chorus. "Yes. Hurley was hurt in the wrist and Diaz died. I think I'm wanted in Morgantown." Out of a little silence came the voice of Black Gandil: "Dick, I'm thankin' you now for cuttin' me so short a minute ago."
The distance out was 7½ miles, and the party covered a total distance of about 17 miles. Hurley took some photographs and Wordie came back rejoicing with a little dust and some moss. "Within a radius of one mile round the berg there is thin young ice, strong enough to march over with care," wrote Worsley.
He sat in a chair directly behind that of Hurley, and Pierre's new-found acquaintance explained: "He's the bodyguard for Hurley. Maybe there's some who could down Hurley in a straight gunfight; maybe there's one or two like McGurk that could down Diaz damn his yellow hide but there ain't no one can buck the two of 'em. It ain't in reason. So they play the game together.
"There's nothing decent nearer than Godbury," he said. "Twenty-three miles. There's an inn at Hurley of a sort. There's no town there to speak of, you know. It's only a junction." "Oh! well, I'll risk the inn at Hurley for one night," I said. "What about your things?" he asked. "Blast!" was my only comment. "Rummest go I ever heard of," Banks interjected thoughtfully.
The scientists wished to inspect some of the neighbouring bergs at close quarters, but sledge travelling outside the well-trodden area immediately around the ship proved difficult and occasionally dangerous. On August 20, for example, Worsley, Hurley, and Greenstreet started off for the Rampart Berg and got on to a lead of young ice that undulated perilously beneath their feet.
Nevertheless, we borrowed a little "hurley," or handcart, from the baker's girl opposite, who certainly bore no malice. I had our marriage lines in my pocket, lest any should deny my rights. But though we did not see the Lady Kirkpatrick, the goods were all corded and placed ready behind the door of the porter's lodge. We had them on the "hurley" in a minute.
In the end President Wilson intervened by accepting the invited resignations of both, and placing the shipbuilding in the hands of Admiral Washington L. Capps, a naval ship constructor of renown, and Edward N. Hurley, former chairman of the Federal Trade Commission.
Even the slight sounds in the gaming-room were done now, and one pair after another of eyes swung toward the table of Cochrane and Hurley. The wave of the silence reached to the barroom. No one could have carried the tidings so soon, but the air was surcharged with the consciousness of an impending crisis. Half a dozen men started to make their way on tiptoe toward the back room.
It was like the scent of blood to the starved wolf. The last word was scarcely off his tongue when he was crouched with a devil of green fury in his eyes the light struck his hair into a wave of flame his face altered by a dozen ugly years. "D'you mean?" whispered Hurley, as if he feared to break the silence with his full voice. "Get out of the room."
Shefford did not show that he had heard. Hurley waited, leering as looked from the keen listeners to Shefford. "Want to have them all yerself, eh?" he jeered. Shefford struck him sent him tumbling heavily, like a log. Hurley, cursing as he half rose, jerked his gun out. Nas Ta Bega, swift as light, kicked the gun out of his hand. And Joe Lake picked it up.
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