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Updated: July 31, 2024
But this interruption puts Lindström off his jugglery with the hot cakes-one of them rolls down on to the floor. This fellow is extraordinarily phlegmatic; I can't make out whether he missed that cake or not. I believe the sigh that escaped him at the same instant meant something like: "Well, we must leave some for the dogs."
I could easily guess that nine men were sleeping in a room 19 feet by 13 feet; it did not require anyone to tell me that. Still not a sound. I suppose they only keep that alarm-clock to make themselves imagine they are turning out. Wait a minute, though. "Lindtrom! Lindtrom!" He went by the name of Lindtrom, not Lindström. "Now, by Jove! you've got to get up! The clock's made row enough."
"Hello.... Yes, Red Stack office.... Steamer Yankee Prince.... What's that?... silk and rice?... Half a mile below the Cliff House, eh?... Sure, I'll send a tug right away, Lindstrom." Tiernan hung up and faced the two skippers. "Gentlemen," he announced, "here's a chance for a little salvage money to-night. The American steamer Yankee Prince is ashore half a mile below the Cliff House.
"Oh, iodoform," remarked the young woman at the desk, hearing them comment on it. "Do you get it? We don't notice it here at all." Then came Miss Lindström's sister, powerfully built, gaunt, gray, with a professional, impersonal cheerfulness. The expedition began. "I'll take you to the children's ward first," said Miss Lindström; "that always interests visitors so much...."
Matt noticed this and decided that should the Old Man ever bawl for him he would come running too. "Mr. Swenson, you have a chief mate's license, have you not?" "Yes, sir." "Very well. You're the first mate. Mr. Lindstrom" turning to the bosun "you've waited a year for your chance, and here it is. You're the second mate. Bosun!" He was looking straight at Matt Peasley as he spoke.
But the other was not to be persuaded; he was determined to win. Then Lindström let go, tore off his braces he had no time for more and dived head first into his bunk. Stubberud tried to protest; this was not fair, he was not undressed, and so on. "That doesn't matter," replied the fat man; "I was first, all the same."
This fairly took my breath away He stood there with the coolest air in the world and talked about the weather, and I could take my oath he had not been outside the door that morning. "How's it getting on to-day is it coming?" Amundsen looks with interest at the mysterious bowl. Lindström takes another peep under the cloth. "Yes, it's coming at last; but I've had to give it a lot to-day."
They were out of the children's ward now, walking along a clean bare corridor. Sylvia swallowed hard. Her eyes felt burning. Judith held her mother's hand tightly. Miss Lindström was explaining to Mrs. Marshall a new system of ventilation. "This is one of the women's wards," said their leader, opening another swinging door, from which rushed forth a fresh blast of iodoform.
With Lindström, then, the kitchen and the daily bread were in order. The smoke rose gaily from the shining black chimney, and proclaimed that now the Barrier was really inhabited. How cosy it was, when we came sledging up after the day's work, to see that smoke rising into the air. It is a little thing really, but nevertheless it means so much.
Of course, a few lay on the floor, but then Lindström had been running about in the dark, and perhaps he had pulled them down. On the table, by the window, stood a gramophone and some tobacco-boxes and ash-trays. The furniture was not plentiful, nor was it in the style of Louis Quinze or Louis Seize, but it was sufficient.
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