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Updated: May 17, 2025
I hurried back to give Farrar a hand with the ropes, and it was O'Meara who caught the one I flung ashore and wound it around a pile. The people pressed around, peering at our party on the Maria, and I heard McCann exhorting them to make way. And just then, as he was about to cross the plank, they parted for some one from behind. A breathless messenger halted at the edge of the wharf.
He could bat like a fiend, and he had a knack of coaching and steadying a pitcher which brought out the best there was in any slab artist who "handed 'em up" to him. McCann, shortstop and captain of the team, was a fighting Irishman with a peppery temper and a bullying disposition.
While the rest of us unloaded the wagon, McCann, who was swearing by both note and rhyme, unearthed his saddle from amongst the other plunder and cinched it on his nigh wheeler.
If one of my players should rush at him the way McCann did, I should expect him to put the man on the bench or off the field. If he didn't do it, I'd do it myself. You know Bender threw that ball at Mulloy to drive him back from the plate, and you also know that Mulloy was in his proper position." "Aren't we going to have any sort of a square deal here?" gurgled Bearover furiously.
Joining Honeyman, I took the first horse which came within reach of my rope, and with a fresh mount under me, we rushed the saddle horses past the wagon and shortly came up with our foreman. There we rounded in the horses as best we could without the aid of the wagon, and before McCann arrived, all had fresh mounts and were ready for orders.
It's not easy to bluff them, but we may be able to get their tails down, and an uphill game is a hard game for any team to play. Start us off, McCann." The captain of the visitors walked out and hit the first ball pitched to him, although it was fully six inches higher than his shoulders.
McCann had heard of my client and of his luxurious country place, and moreover it was the first time he had ever been on a yellow-plush yacht. He tarried. He drank Mr. Cooke's health and looked around him in wonder and awe, and his remarks were worthy of record.
"My regards to Drew," my client insisted. "Oh!" said McCann, his face lighting up, "him with the whiskers, what came from Bear Island in a cat-boat. Sure, he wasn't no detective, sir." "What was he? A police commissioner?" "Mr. Cooke," said McCann, disdainfully, as he got into his boat, "he wasn't nothing but a prospector doing the lake for one of them summer hotel companies."
It took us less than an hour to round up and count the cattle, and turn them loose again under herd to graze. Those of us not on herd returned to the wagon, and our foreman instructed McCann to make a two hours' drive down the river and camp for noon, as he proposed only to graze the herd that morning.
The third animal we struck in the river that morning was the black steer that had showed fight the day before. Knowing his temper would not be improved by soaking in the quicksand overnight, we changed our tactics. While we were tying up the steer's tail and legs, McCann secreted his team at a safe distance.
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