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Updated: May 10, 2025
"Por Dios, eet is too mooch work!" sighed Perdosa once. "Why don't you kick to the Old Man, then?" sneered Thrackles. The silence that followed, and the sullenness with which Perdosa readdressed himself to his work, was significant enough of Captain Selover's past relations with the men. And how we did clean her!
If he had won past they would have followed as obstinately as sheep, and nothing could have stopped them, but the big bull went down beneath the clubs. Thrackles hit the animal two vindictive blows after it had succumbed. This settled the revolt, and we stood as before. Pulz and Handy Solomon tried to converse by signs, but evidently failed, for their faces showed angry in the twilight.
We all laid into the canvas like mad, and in no time had snugged down to a staysail and the peak of our mainsail. Thrackles drew his knife and jumped for the cable, while Handy Solomon, his eyes snapping, seized the wheel. We finished just in time. I was turning away after tying the last gasket on the foresail, when the deck up-ended and tipped me headforemost into the starboard scupper.
"Are you the only survivor?" he inquired. "Except yourself." "The Nigger? Pulz? Thrackles? The captain? All drowned?" "Not the captain. They murdered him." "Ah," said Darrow softly. "And you I beg your pardon your er friends disposed of the doctor in the same way?" "Handy Solomon," replied Slade with shaking lips. "Hell's got that fiend, if there's a hell for human fiends.
To-night I am the last leaf. 'All his lovely companions are faded and gone, the sprightly Solomon, the psychic Nigger, the amiable Thrackles, the cheerful Perdosa, the genial Pulz, and the high-minded Eagen. Undoubtedly the social atmosphere has cleared; moreover, I am for the first time in my life a landed proprietor.
Then it's me for a big stone house in Frisco O!" "Frisco, hell," sneered Pulz, "that's all you know. You ought to travel. Paris for me and a little gal to learn the language from." "I get heem a fine caballo, an' fine saddle, an' fine clo's," breathed Perdosa sentimentally. "I ride, and the silver jingle, and the señorita look " Thrackles was for a ship and the China trade.
You first saw the glow let me see " "Night of June 2d," said Barnett. "June 2d," agreed Darrow. "That was the end of Solomon, Thrackles & Co. A very surprising end to them, if they had time to think," he added grimly. "Surprising enough, from the survivor's viewpoint," said Slade. "Doubtless. They've had that story from you; I needn't go over it.
A number of brilliant birds fluttered at our approach. Suddenly Handy Solomon, who was in advance, stopped and pointed to the crest of the hill. A file of animals moved along the sky line. "Mutton!" said he, "or the devil's a preacher!" "Sheep!" cried Thrackles. "Where did they come from?" "Golden Horn," I suggested. "Remember that wide, empty deck forward? They carried sheep there."
Huge surges were racing in from seaward, growing larger with each successive billow. Handy Solomon raised his head, listened intently, and struck his forehead. "Wind," he screamed at the top of his voice, and jumped for the halliards. Thrackles followed him, but no one else moved. In an instant the two were back, striking and kicking savagely, rousing their companions to the danger.
The master had become a stuffed figure, a bogie with which to frighten, an empty bladder that a prick would collapse. With what grace I could muster, I had to give in. "You'll have to have it your own way, I suppose," I snapped. Thrackles grinned, and Pulz started to say something, but Handy Solomon, with a peremptory gesture, and a black scowl, stopped him short.
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