Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 9, 2025
And when the blow comes, we'll have to get clear of the Diablo coast." The second tour of the fishing fleet was only partly completed when Dickie directed Gregory's gaze in the direction of the point off Northwest Harbor. "Here they come," she cried. "Mascola's looking for trouble just as I told you."
The minute he squawks and swoops down to pick it up there's a hundred of them come from all points of the compass to fight it out with him for the spoils. Well, Mascola's men are just like that. We may spot the fish first. We generally do. But that doesn't make the slightest bit of difference to Mascola. It only saves him the trouble.
I would like to contract for my men to get them for you." Gregory was nettled by Mascola's calm assurance. He had a mind to send him packing. Blair, he remembered, had evidently had but little use for the Italian. But Blair too might have been prejudiced. It was business perhaps to hear the man's proposal. "What is your proposition?" he asked, hoping Mascola would be brief.
We are interfering with no one's rights. We're here. The fish are here. And here we're going to stay." "I'll show you, you " Bandrist checked the Italian's angry outburst by placing a hand firmly upon his arm. "I'm sorry," he began. But Mascola's open muffler drowned his words and the Fuor d'Italia leaped away into the darkness. "Mascola's drunk," commented Dickie, looking after them.
She shook her head. "Sometimes it is necessary to take a chance," she answered. "You've got to catch Mascola's bunch red-handed. When we round the 'bull-nose' we'll be right on top of our nets." Her lips were firmly compressed and the little lines which suddenly appeared about her mouth were hard. With her eyes still held by the barnacled rocks, she snapped: "Then you may see something."
"Listen, boys, I've got a big proposition to offer you. One that will beat Mascola's like an ace beats a deuce. Because this one is on the square." The fishermen crowded closer while she went on: "You know what we've been up against here for years to get good help. You boys have been working short-handed most of the time. Doing more work than it was up to you to do.
If we hit anybody we might as well hit hard." "Do you think we got out without being seen?" Lang shook his head sagely in the darkness. "Not much of a chance," he answered after a moment. "Couldn't have had a better night, though. But it's mighty hard to slip anything over on the dago. If the fog would lift up it would be even shootin' you'd see one of Mascola's outfit trailin' us astern.
Shuffling closer together they looked to their leader for guidance. Mascola's eyes darted about the floor, coming to rest upon a big vat only a few feet away. For an instant he hesitated. A faint metallic click from the doorway caused him to make up his mind. His body straightened as his hands traveled upward to the level of his shoulders.
We've beaten Mascola, hands down, so why should we care?" It was well toward morning before the last of the cannery fleet staggered into the little harbor of Cavalan. Then came the first opportunity to reckon the cost of Mascola's defeat at Diablo. Gregory's first thought was for the personnel of his fleet.
Things would go all right for a while. Then there would come a row with Mascola's outfit and a lot of the boys would get disgusted and leave." Gregory interrupted: "I understand from my father's attorney, that one of the biggest things he had to contend with was the matter of getting fish." "I'm coming to that in a minute. Let's finish up the labor question while we're on it.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking