Man, how funny you did look with them long red
whiskers--an' you little more'n a boy."
"Jumpin' Jehosophat, Scraggsy! Was you one o' the Brotherhood?"
Captain Scraggs came close and thrust his face up for Mr.
Gibney's inspection. "Gib," he said solemnly, "look at me! Touch
the cord o' memory an' think back. D'ye remember that pore little
feller you robbed of five hundred dollars twenty-odd year ago in
the schooner _Dashin' Wave_? D'ye remember that typhoon we was in
an' how, when I was that tuckered out an' so seasick I couldn't
stand up, you made me pump ship an' when I protested, you stuck a
horse pistol under my nose an' _made_ me? That man, Adelbert P.
Gibney was _me! Me! Me!_" Scraggs's voice rose in a crashing
crescendo; his teeth clicked together and he shook his skinny
fist under the great Gibney nose. Gibney paled and drew away from
him.
"How was I to know, Scraggsy?" he faltered. "The whole bunch was
runts--sickly, measly little fellers. Nevertheless an' agin, you
shouldn't ought to have any kick comin'. You had a fine trip an'
a heap of adventure an' me an' Bull paid your passage back to San
Francisco. Come, Scraggs. Be sensible.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173