Part 22 (2/2)
Dollops thought a moment.
”You might try, sir-'twould do no 'arm, anyway,” he said after a pause. ”Pertickler as you're my mate, so ter speak. Ought ter be able to work it, I should think.... Look. Who's a-comin' now? If it ain't ole Black Whiskers 'imself!”
And Black Whiskers it was, to be sure. He lounged up to them, hands in pockets, hat pulled well down over his eyes, a sinister, ugly figure. He had an ”air”-and it was by no means a pleasant one.
”Hullo, youngster!” he called out in a harsh voice. ”Been seein' the country-eh? Better fer you and yer mate if yer keeps yer eyes well on the ground in this part uv the world. Never meddle in someone else's business. It don't pay.” His voice lowered suddenly, and he jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. ”Mate on the square with you, I s'pose? Comin' along now?”
”Bet yer life I am!” responded Dollops heartily, giving him a significant wink. ”'Course I ain't said nuffin' ter ole Bill abaht what you tole me, but I know 'e's a cute un. No flies on ole Bill, guv'nor, give yer me oath on that. What abaht it, now? Shall us bring him along too? Just as you ses, guv'nor, seein' as you're the boss, but 'e's a strong fellow is my mate-and 'is mouth's like a trap.”
Black Whiskers switched round in his slouchy walk, where he had fallen in step beside Dollops, leaving Cleek on the boy's right hand, and gave the ”mate” a searching look under black brows. In the darkness, with just a thread of moonlight to make patterns upon the black waters and etch out the outline of mast and funnel and hull against the indigo, Cleek recognized that look, and set his mouth grimly. He'd seen it once before, upon that night when this man had stolen into his room and tried to knife him.
”Where're you off to, matey? With all your fine secrets? I'd like to know!” he said jokingly, digging Dollops in the ribs, and giving a loud guffaw. ”Some girl, I suppose.”
”Somethin' uv more account than women, I kin tell ye!” threw in Black Whiskers roughly. ”'E's going ter help me with a little work-overtime is what 'e'll get fer it. If yer willin' ter lend a 'and, overtime you'll get, too. But you'll keep yer mouth shut, or clear. One or t'other. It's up ter you ter choose.”
Cleek laughed.
”Call me a fool, matey-but not a d.a.m.ned fool!” he said pleasantly. ”Bill Jones knows what side 'is bread's b.u.t.tered on, I kin tell yer! Soft job like this one wot we've nicked on ter ain't goin' ter slip through 'is fingers fer a little tongue-waggin'. I'm on, mate.”
”Righto.”
”What's the job?”
”Loadin' up boats fer cargo.”
”Oh!... Contraband, eh, matey?”
”That's none uv yer business, my man, and as long as you remembers that, you'll 'old yer job; no more, no less.”
”Beg pardon, I'm sure. But I bin in the same sort uv thing meself-out in Jamaica. Used ter smuggle things through the customs. Nifty business it were, too, and I almost got caught twice. But I slipped it somehow. Just loadin' is our game, then?”
”Jist loadin',” responded Black Whiskers significantly. ”'Ere we are. Now then, get ter work. See them tubings over there? Well, they've got to be carried over to that fis.h.i.+n'-smack drawn up against the dock. There's six of 'em goin' ternight, and we've got ter be quick. Ain't as easy as it looks, mate, but-that's not your business neither. Get ter work!”
They got to work forthwith, and turned to the pile of electrical tubings which was built up against the side of the dock wall, twice as high as a man's head. A pale lantern swung from the edge of the same wall, above them, hanging suspended from a nail; another hung on the opposite side from a post. By the light of these two lamps they could see a knot of men a.s.sembled in the centre of the dockyard, talking together in low whispers, while down below, at the water's edge, rocked a fleet of fis.h.i.+ng boats awaiting their mysterious cargo. One could hear the men stirring restlessly and s.h.i.+fting sail as they waited for the task to begin.
Then the word was given in a low, vibrant voice, and they went to work.
”Easy job this, matey,” whispered Dollops as he and Cleek advanced upon the stack of tubings and each started to lift one down. ”I ... Gawd's truf! ain't it 'eavy! Lorlumme! Now, what in blazes-?”
Cleek put up a warning finger, and shouldered the thing. Heavy it certainly was, though of such fine metal that its weight seemed incredible. And when one knew that these things carried electric wiring.... Or did they?... Never was made an electric wire that was as heavy as that.
Cleek carried one of these tubings to the dock's edge, with the aid of Dollops handed it over into the hands that were outstretched to receive it, and went back for another one. Back and forth and back and forth they went, lifting, carrying, delivering, until one boat was loaded, and another one hove into sight in its place. He watched the first one's slow progress out across the murky waters for a moment, making a pretense of mopping his forehead with his handkerchief meanwhile. It was loaded below the water-mark! It hung so low in the water that it looked a mere smudge upon the face of it, a ribbon of sail flapping from its slender mast.
Electrical tubings, eh? Faugh! a pretty story that....
Two boats were filled, three, four.... A fifth came riding up under the very nose of the last, and settled itself with a rattle of chains and b.u.mping of sides against the quay. That, too, was loaded to its very edge, and took its way slowly out beneath their eyes. The sixth took its place after its fellows.
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