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Updated: May 10, 2025
They had not spoken for nearly two hours, as though they wished to save even the breath of speech for some trial which might still await them. Kate was half unconscious with fatigue, and McTee on her left and Harrigan on her right carried most of her weight. In this manner they came in sight of a light which developed into a low-roofed, broad house with a hospitable veranda stretching about it.
"I'm sorry for you, McTee; you've made a hard fight; it's strange you've got no ghost of a chance of winnin'." "What d'you mean?" "Couldn't you hear her when she talked to me?" "I could not." "Couldn't you see her face? It was written there as plain as print." McTee cleared his throat. "What was written there?" "The thing you want to see. When she took my hand in both of hers " "Hell!"
It made that day easier for him. He stopped singing. He needed all his brain energy to think of how he should kill McTee. It was this hungry desire which sustained him during the days which followed. The rest of the crew began to sense the mighty emotion which consumed Harrigan.
The loot of the Heron was a deep temptation, and his pledged word to the bos'n was a strong bond, for as Hovey had said, the honor of Black McTee, in spite of his other failings, was respected throughout the South Seas. For one purpose, however, he would have sacrificed all hopes of plunder and a thousand plighted words, and that purpose was the undoing of Harrigan in the eyes of Kate.
A little weather-beaten, but a tight craft at that; she'll worship the ground you walk! Character, Henshaw, that's what these new American girls want to see in a man!" Henshaw sighed with deep relief. "Ah-h, McTee, you comfort me more than a drink on a stormy night! For reward, you shall see what I'm bringing back to her. Come!"
"Then if you'll go forward, Harrigan," said the captain, and his voice was dry and dead as his skin "if you'll go forward and report to the bos'n, he'll see that you have a bunk." "Thank you, sir," murmured Harrigan, and slipped from the room on his bare feet. "That man," stated Henshaw, "is as strong as you are, McTee, and yet they call you the huskiest sailor of the South Seas."
"God!" screamed McTee, and gripped Harrigan's wrists, but the Irishman heaved him up and beat his head against the deck. McTee's jaws fell open, and a bloody froth bubbled to his lips; his eyes thrust out hideously. "Ah-h!" snarled Harrigan, and shifted his grip lower, his thumbs digging relentlessly into the great throat. This time the giant limbs of the captain relaxed as if in sleep.
Kate hesitated one instant as if to judge which was the greatest force toward evil. Then she dropped to her knees and caught the hands of McTee, those strong, cruel hands. "If you will not fight, I'll I'll be kind to you, I'll be everything you ask of me " "You're pleading for him?" "No, no! For him and for you; for your two souls!" "Bah!
They were estimating the strength of his endurance and he knew at once that they had been through the same trial one by one until they were broken. He could see that they hated the captain and he wondered why they would ship with him time and again. He watched their expressions when Black McTee was mentioned, and then he understood. They were waiting for the time when the captain should weaken.
And how fasten 'em together, even supposing we could burn them down and drag them to the water? No, there's no way of getting off the island unless a boat passes and catches a glimpse of our fire." "Then we'll have to move this fire to the top of the hill," said Harrigan. "Suppose we go now and look over the hill and see what dry wood is near it," said McTee. "Good."
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