the cruise of the jasper b.-第3章

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in　leather；　Dumas　in　boards；　Dumas　in　paper　covers。　　Cleggett　had

been　twenty　years　getting　these　arms　and　books　together；　often　he

had　gone　without　a　dinner　in　order　to　make　a　payment　on　some

blade　he　fancied。　　And　each　weapon　was　also　a　book　to　him；　he

sensed　their　stories　as　he　handled　them；　he　felt　the

personalities　of　their　former　owners　stirring　in　him　when　he

picked　them　up。　　It　was　in　that　room　that　he　dreamed；　which　is　to

say；　it　was　in　that　room　that　he　lived　his　real　life。



Cleggett　walked　over　to　his　writing　desk　and　pulled　out　a　bulky

manuscript。　　It　was　his　own　work。　　Is　it　necessary　to　hint　that

it　was　a　tale　essentially　romantic　in　character？



He　flung　it　into　the　grate　and　set　fire　to　it。　　It　represented

the　labor　of　two　years；　but　as　he　watched　it　burn；　stirring　the

sheets　now　and　then　so　the　flames　would　catch　them　more　readily；

he　smiled；　unvisited　by　even　the　most　shadowy　second　thought　of

regret。



For　why　the　deuce　should　a　man　with　500；000　in　his　pocket　write

romances？　　Why　should　anyone　write　anything　who　is　free　to　live？　

For　the　first　time　in　his　existence　Cleggett　was　free。



He　picked　up　a　sword。　　It　was　one　of　his　favorite　rapiers。　

Sometimes　people　came　out　of　the　bookssometimes　shadowy　forms

came　back　to　claim　the　weapons　that　had　been　theirsand　Cleggett

fought　them。　　There　was　not　an　unscarred　piece　of　furniture　in

the　place。　　He　bent　the　flexible　blade　in　his　hands；　tried　the

point　of　it；　formally　saluted；　brought　the　weapon　to　parade；

dallied　with　his　imaginary　opponent's　sword　for　an　instant。　。　。　。



It　seemed　as　if　one　of　those　terrible；　but　brilliant；　duels；　with

which　that　room　was　so　familiar；　was　about　to　be　enacted。　。　。　。　

But　he　laid　the　rapier　down。　　After　all；　the　rapier　is　scarcely　a

thing　of　this　century。　　Cleggett；　for　the　first　time；　felt　a

little　impatient　with　the　rapier。　　It　is　all　very　well　to　DREAM

with　a　rapier。　　But　now；　he　was　free；　reality　was　before　him；　the

world　of　actual　adventure　called。　　He　had　but　to　choose！



He　considered。　　He　tried　to　look　into　that　bright；　adventurous

future。　　Presently　he　went　to　the　window；　and　gazed　out。　　Tides

of　night　and　mystery；　flooding　in　from　the　farther；　dark；

mysterious　ocean；　all　but　submerged　lower　Manhattan；　high　and

beautiful　above　these　waves　of　shadow；　triumphing　over　them　and

accentuating　them；　shone　a　star　from　the　top　of　the　Woolworth

building；　flecks　of　light　indicated　the　noble　curve　of　that　great

bridge　which　soars　like　a　song　in　stone　and　steel　above　the

shifting　waters；　the　river　itself　was　dotted　here　and　there　with

moving　lights；　it　was　a　nocturne　waiting　for　its　Whistler；　here

sea　and　city　met　in　glamour　and　beauty　and　illusion。



But　it　was　not　the　city　which　called　to　Cleggett。　It　was　the　sea。



A　breeze　blew　in　from　the　bay　and　stirred　his　window　curtains；　it

was　salt　in　his　nostrils。　。　。　。And；　staring　out　into　the

breathing　night；　he　saw　a　succession　of　pictures。　。　。　。



Stripped　to　a　pair　of　cotton　trousers；　with　a　dripping　cutlass　in

one　hand　and　a　Colt's　revolver　in　the　other；　an　adventurer　at　the

head　of　a　bunch　of　dogs　as　desperate　as　himself　fought　his　way

across　the　reeking　decks　of　a　Chinese　junk；　to　close　in　single

combat　with　a　gigantic　one…eyed　pirate　who　stood　by　the　helm　with

a　ring　of　dead　men　about　him　and　a　great　two…handed　sword

upheaved。　。　。　。　　This　adventurer　wasClement　J。　Cleggett！　。　。　。



Through　the　phosphorescent　waters　of　a　summer　sea；　reckless　of

cruising　sharks；　a　sailor's　clasp　knife　in　his　teeth；　glided

noiselessly　a　strong　swimmer；　he　reached　the　side　of　a　schooner

yacht　from　which　rose　the　wild　cries　of　beauty　in　distress；

swarmed　aboard　with　a　muttered　prayer　that　was　half　a　curse；

swept　the　water　from　his　eyes；　and　with　pale；　stern　face　went

about　the　bloody　business　of　a　hero。　。　。　。　　Again；　this

adventurer　was　Clement　J。　Cleggett！



Cleggett　turned　from　the　window。



〃I'll　do　it；〃　he　cried。　　〃I'll　do　it！〃



He　grasped　a　cutlass。　　　　



〃Pirates！〃　he　cried；　swinging　it　about　his　head。　〃That's　the

thingpirates　and　the　China　Seas！〃



And　with　one　frightful　sweep　of　his　blade　he　disemboweled　a　sofa

cushion；　the　second　blow　clove　his　typewriting　machine　clean　to

the　tattoo　marks　upon　its　breast；　the　third　decapitated　a

sectional　bookcase。



But　what　is　a　sectional　bookcase　to　a　man　with　500；000　in　his

pocket　and　the　Seven　Seas　before　him？





CHAPTER　III



A　SCHOONER；　A　SKIPPER；　AND　A　SKULL



It　was　a　few　days　later；　when　a　goodly　number　of　the　late　Uncle

Tom's　easily　negotiable　securities　had　been　converted　into　cash；

and　the　cash　deposited　in　the　bank；　that　Cleggett　bought　the

Jasper　B。　



He　discovered　her　near　the　town　of　Fairport；　Long　Island；　one

afternoon。　　The　vessel　lay　in　one　of　the　canals　which　reach

inward　from　the　Great　South　Bay。　　She　looked　as　if　she　might　have

been　there　for　some　time。　　Evidently；　at　one　period；　the　Jasper

B。　had　played　a　part　in　some　catch…coin　scheme　of　summer

entertainment；　a　scheme　that　had　failed。　　Little　trace　of　it

remained　except　a　rotting　wooden　platform；　roofless　and　built

close　to　the　canal；　and　a　gangway　arrangement　from　this　platform

to　the　deck　of　the　vessel。



The　Jasper　B。　had　seen　better　days；　even　a　landsman　could　tell

that。　　But　from　the　blunt　bows　to　the　weather…scarred　stern；　on

which　the　name　was　faintly　discernible；　the　hulk　had　an　air　about

it；　the　air　of　something　that　has　lived；　it　was　eloquent　of　a

varied　and　interesting　past。



And；　to　complete　the　picture；　there　sat　on　her　deck　a　gnarled　and

brown　old　man。　　He　smoked　a　short　pipe　which　was　partially　hidden

in　a　tangle　of　beard　that　had　once　been　yellowish　red　but　was　now

streaked　with　dirty　white；　he　fished　earnestly　without　apparent

result；　and　from　time　to　time　he　spat　into　the　water。　　Cleggett's

nimble　fancy　at　once　put　rings　into　his　ears　and　dowered　him　with

a　history。



Cleggett　noticed；　as　he　walked　aboard　the　vessel；　that　she　seemed

to　be　jammed　not　merely　against；　but　into　the　bank　of　the　canal。　

She　was　nearer　the　shore　than　he　had　ever　seen　a　vessel　of　any

sort。　　Some　weeds　grew　in　soil　that　had　lodged　upon　the　deck；　in

a　couple　of　places　they　sprang　as　high　as　the　rail。　　Weeds　grew

on　shore；　in　fact；　it　would　have　taken　a　better　nautical

authority　than　Cleggett　to　tell　offhand　just　exactly　where　the

land　ended　and　the　Jasper　B。　began。　　She　seemed　to　be　possessed

of　an　odd　stability；　although　the　tide　was　receding　the　Jasper　B。

was　not　perceptibly　agitated　by　the　motion　of　the　water。　　Of

anchor；　or　mooring　chains　or　cables　of　any　sort；　there　was　no

sign。



The　brown　old　manhe　was　brown　not　only　as　to　the　portions　of

his　skin　visible　through　his　hair　and　whiskers；　but　also　as　to

coat　and　trousers　and　worn　boots　and　cap　and　pipe　and　flannel

shirtturned　around　as　Cleggett　stepped　aboard；　and　stared　at

the　invader　with　a　shaggy…browed　intensity　that　was　embarrassing。



It　occurred　to　Cleggett　that　the　old　man　might　own　the　vessel　and

make　a　home　of　her。



〃I　beg　your　pardon　if　I　am　intruding；〃　ventured　Cleggett；

politely；　〃but　do　you　live　here？〃



The　brown　old　man　made　an　indeterminate　motion　of　his　head；

without　otherwise　replying　at　once。　　Then　he　took　a　cake　of　dark；

hard…looking　tobacco　from　the　starboard　pocket　of　his　trousers

and　a　clasp　knife　from　the　port　side。　　He　shaved　off　a　fresh

pipeful；　rolled　it　in　his　palms；　knocked　the　old　ash　from　his

pipe；　refilled　and　relighted　it；　all　with　the　utmost

deliberation。　　Then　he　cut　another　small　piece　of　tobacco　from

the　〃plug〃　and　popped　it　into　his　mouth。　　Cleggett　perceived　with

surprise　that　he　smoked　and　chewed　tobacco　at　the　same　time。　　As

he　thus　refreshed　himself　he　glanced　from　time　to　time　at

Cleggett　as　if　unfavorably　impressed。　　Finally　he　closed　his

knife　with　a　click　and　suddenly　piped　out　in　a　high；　shrill

voice：



〃No！　　Do　you？〃



〃Ierdo　I　wha