Wild Norene/Chapter 6

EVEN days passed, with the steam schooner Amingo wallowing on toward the south, and the Mexican gunboat following, dropping behind by day, creeping up by night, always watching, ready for any emergency, ready to match wit against Captain Bill Adams's strategy.

The pursuing craft had thrown out her true colors, and now and then by looking through a glass one could see the sun reflected from her guns.

The Amingo now was off the Mexican coast, and Connor knew that the end of the voyage was near. Times without number he had passed or met Norene Adams, but always he had merely saluted her courteously and passed on.

She had grown to be great friends with Sally Wood, and with Sally Wood Connor talked a great deal now and then.

These conversations were but half sweet to Sally. She was a woman who could read the heart of such a man as Tack Connor. And she read that she had his respect, but not his affection; that all that was reserved for Wild Norene.

Guerrero, now that they were approaching the end of the voyage, became nervous and looked continually over the stern at the pursuing gunboat. He held long conferences with Captain Adams, at which the skipper repeatedly requested him to attend to his own business; that he had promised to land the arms and ammunition, and that they would be landed.

On a certain afternoon the captain mounted to the bridge during Connor's watch and looked long at the vessel behind.

"She hangs on pretty well, doesn't she?" Connor said.

"I'll shake her off when I am ready."

"Do we put into Mazatlan first, then out again and land the arms, or do we land the contraband first?"

The Captain whirled upon him.

"Who said anything about contraband?" he demanded.

"Why pretend with me?" asked Connor. "I was just wondering if we were near the end of the trip."

"You are near the end of your trip!" the captain snarled. "Ready for the firing party?"

"I was beginning to believe you'd changed your plans."

"Well, I haven't. You insulted my niece—you'll pay for it!"

"Why not leave it to her?" asked Connor.

"I gave you your chance. You haven't tamed her, have you? And you'll never get back to a United States port to say Cap'n Bill Adams weakened. You'll never tell about this voyage! Maybe I've been a bit friendly with you now and then, and maybe it was because you amused me. But don't think I've altered my original program."

"Oh, very well!"

"You take it calmly enough."

"Why not?" demanded Connor. "You're a man of your word, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Very well. You've promised to keep your hands off me during the voyage. And I'm going to take advantage of that and tell you just what I think of you."

The captain sneered in his face.

"Go ahead!"

"I'm not going to tell you that you're a cruel, masterful terror, because you'd like that—you're vain! I'm going to tell you that you're an ordinary, plain fool!"

Captain Bill's fists doubled instantly.

"Remember your given word!" warned Connor. "You're ready to send me to prison or death on some trumped-up charge because I didn't accomplish a task you made impossible. And I didn't try. I tell you again I love Norene. I told you I'd win her. I still think I'll do it. But I'll not even attempt it now when she will think I am making the effort merely to escape punishment from you. I've done nothing to make you seek vengeance on me—"

"Nothing, eh? Calling my girl an unmentionable woman, saying she was a fit subject for barroom gossip, declaring to the world you could tame her—nothing?"

"I've explained that. I'm sorry I did it. I know her now, you see. I'd marry her if she'd have me and go back and tell every one in Astoria I'd done it, and beat half to death the man that dared make a remark about it, either in a barroom or in a church. That's where I stand.

"You shanghaied me and made me mate of your law-breaking craft against my will. You placed me in a position where I was subjected to insult. You let Norene believe things that were not true. You haven't been fair. You're not only a fool, but you're a coward!

"Strike me now, break your word, and make yourself out a liar as well!

"That's about all I have to say to you. I'm your mate until the climax, Cap'n Bill Adams. But from now on I fight—you understand?—I fight for myself and for Norene! And you'll find that a Connor can fight, curse you!"

"Bah! Fight—and be cursed yourself!"

"I'm not trying to tame Wild Norene, Cap'n Bill! But I'm starting in, right now, to tame you!"

For a moment they glared at each other. For a moment Connor thought the captain would break his word and strike.

But Captain Bill Adams only laughed evilly, and started to turn away.

"One moment!" Connor stopped him. "I have guessed that you're going to try to land that cargo under the nose of the gunboat that's been hanging on like a dog. Have you stopped to think of the consequences?"

"I'll take care of the consequences!"

"There are women aboard—your niece and another. There may be a fight. These women will be in danger. They'll he in danger of wounds or death, and of a Mexican prison and Mexican jailers. I guess you know what that means."

"Well?"

"Land the women first. Run ahead to Mazatlan and land 'em, then run out again and land your contraband. You can dodge the gunboat to-night. But don't put the women in danger."

The captain walked up close to him again, but Connor did not retreat.

"I'll land that cargo when and where I please," he said. "And you needn't fear for the women. You'd best fear for yourself!"

"Then you'd risk Norene's life and happiness for the sake of aiding a handful of ragged, ignorant fools fight against their own government—for the little money the junta pays you?"

Connor had raised his voice and his words; carried far. From below came a snarl of rage, a cry of fright.

Captain Adams and his mate looked down—to see Señor Guerrero standing there talking to Norene.

Sudden hatred had flamed in the señor's eyes.

"Ragged, ignorant fools!" he cried. "You call them that? They walk through jungles with naked, bleeding feet, they die because of exposure and poisonous snakes, they are shot down like dogs when found, they starve, they die of thirst, they let themselves be strung up and riddled by bullets—and you call them ragged, ignorant fools! They fight for what your country boasts every man has there—the right to live and be free.

"You Americans! Three months ago I was coming into New York on a steamer from France. I saw a poor Italian weep for joy when the saw your Statue of Liberty. God pity him—and the thousands like him!"

The señor's words choked in his throat. It seemed to be genuine emotion depicted in his face.

"Ragged, ignorant fools!" he cried again. "And how could we make the fight without breaking laws? My government is strong enough to keep from us that with which to fight. We can't fight with the ballot, for that is denied us. And if we use guns, we must smuggle them.

"Your country—your liberty-loving country—denies us the right to buy guns there for shipment. But we buy them. And if it wasn't for a few fearless men like Cap'n Bill Adams, who isn't afraid to carry them and land them, we'd have no chance to fight at all!"

"Run your guns, curse you!" cried Connor, thoroughly angry. "I'm not talking of that! I'm talking of making women run the risk—"

Too late he remembered that Norene was standing there below beside Señor Guerrero.

"What does it mean?" she asked wonderingly. "Uncle, you told me you were going to stop along the coast before we got to Mazatlan, to land some machinery that was to go back in the mines."

"I—I know I did, Norene."

"And now—guns!"

"Run on to your cabin, Norene, and let us talk this thing out."

"No!" she cried, looking up at him. "You—you lied to me?"

"Now, Norene—"

"You lied to me?"

"Don't you understand, girl? It wasn't necessary for you to know."

"But you're breaking the law!"

"It isn't a fair law, girl. Why should it be against the law to carry guns and cartridges to people who want to fight?"

"Because," she said, "unscrupulous men always would be starting trouble, getting poor downtrodden men to fight for liberty when really they would be fighting to help rich men seize property. The law would not have stood this long, uncle, unless it had been a good law. And all nations would not have adopted it unless it was good. You don't know what you do.

"You're making it possible for men to shoot one another, you're helping create widows and orphans—and you're breaking the law!"

"Liberty cannot be gained except blood be shed," said Señor Guerrero.

Norene looked at him in scorn.

"I begin to understand," she said. "You have mentioned to me that you and your friends own oil-fields and mines, and that you could make more money if the government favored you more. You are trying to establish a government more to your liking, I suppose."

The banner of guilt showed in Guerrero's face. Norene's lips curled as she looked at him.

"But I am speaking to my uncle," she went on, looking up at the bridge again. "Why have you deceived me, uncle?"

"It wasn't any of your business, girl," he said brutally. "Women shouldn't bother their heads about business."

"You should have told me. You'd no right to do such things when I was on the schooner, to make me a party to them—"

Captain Adams's anger had been growing steadily, and now it flamed forth. That it was directed against his niece happened because the last words addressed to him had been spoken by her.

"No right!" he exclaimed. "I've been a good uncle, haven't I? I've tried to raise you right. You've had everything money could buy. It cost more to have you with me instead of putting you ashore, but I did it because I wanted to be sure you'd be protected. I've run guns before with you aboard. You've spent a lot of the money I got for doing it. It's legitimate, whether the government thinks so or not. And I'll continue to do it, and no Mexican gunboat or headstrong girl or fresh mate can stop me!"

"Protected me!" she cried, half-shrinking from him because of his words and manner. "In return I've given you such love as a daughter should give a father. And how have you protected me? This man, Jack Connor, spoke lightly of Wild Norene in a barroom—spoke so because of what he thought I must be, having been with you. Because you are a breaker of laws, he assumed I must be a dishonest woman. Can you blame him? By Heaven, I cannot!" "Norene!" There was agony in the captain's voice.

"I cannot, I say. Not knowing me as he does now, what else could he think? You were a lawbreaker, I was your constant companion, nearer to you than any other human being; I sailed with you on all your voyages! What could men think except that I was a lawbreaker, too, that I knew what you were doing and agreed with you in it; that I was lawless—not a good woman, but a thing to be spoken of in scorn?"

"Don't, girl—you don't understand—"

"I do understand! And I don't blame Jack Connor for what he said, nor for where he said it! You left me open to the insult—you, my uncle! I blame you!"

"Girl—girl! Maybe I made a mistake—"

"I've loved you and trusted you," she went on. "I knew you were a hard man, and gloried in your reputation as such, because I thought you were honest and fair. I knew you were clean compared to other men of the sea, and I thought—I thought my Uncle Bill was the soul of honor.

"And now you're breaking the laws of two nations. A gunboat follows, watching you as a thief. And behind you've left a nation—your country—fooled, swindled, because you've gotten away with a contraband cargo. You fly the stars and stripes from the stern—you're a disgrace to the flag and the country for which it stands!"

"Norene!" he begged.

"This is my last trip with you," she said. "I cannot prevent you breaking the law this time, but I'll never be with you when you do it again. I'll go ashore—I'll work! I'll wait for my uncle to turn honest before he can claim my friendship again!"

Sobbing, her head bent, she turned and walked quickly away, to go below to her cabin, to throw herself in the berth and burst into a storm of tears.

They stared after her for a moment—Guerrero, Captain Bill, Connor.

Guerrero's face broke into a grin that was half a sneer. Anger flamed in the captain's, anger more at himself than at Norene; anger because she had vindicated, in a way, the thing for which he was blaming Jack Connor.

And Jack Connor, meeting the captain's eyes, knew that he could expect no mercy now!