TWO SOCIALISTS

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIX, Issue 16, 19 October 1907, Page 46

TWO SOCIALISTS

By

J. C. PLUMMER

IT was the evening of the third day that the barque Nanaimo had lain almost motionless, for there was barely a heave to the bosom of the great Pacific. The sails hung from the yards in ungraceful shapes, and the man at the wheel had a sinecure. .With his hat tilted over his eyes he lay over the spokes and dreamed day dreams, for there was little or no steering to do. The crew, smoking their after-supper pipes on the fo’castle, listened to Larkin spout his socialistic propaganda. “It ain’t right,” he urged; “a capertilist has no business with a million o’ dollars and ten thousand men with only a dollar. It ought to be taken away from him and divided up and around.” “And ye’d do that if ye had it?” asked O’Hara. “Dead sure I would. I’m a socialist from keelson to skys’l yard. I don’t feel like swarming up the rigging a stormy night to help a capertilist make money and I get only measly wages.” “It’s me that’s thinkin’ we’ll be climbin' shrouds to save our own lives afore mornin’ by the looks of the sky. There’s a gale a brewin’ as sure as there’s poteen in Tipperary, God bless the spot,” and O’Hara knocked out the ashes from his pipe and went aft to relieve the daydreamer at the wheel. “I’m with you, Larkin,” said Hull. “Curse these eapertilists; let’s have money divided up.” “If I’d a thousand dollars,” said Larkin magnificently, “I’d make it go around even among this here crew. That’s my doctrine.” And it came before morning, the gale, such a strong and mighty wind that it flattened, down the waves as if some vast weight had been placed upon the sea. Sails unfurled went to rags and ribbons, and the old Nanaimo lay over on her side and made for turning turtle. She righted, however, in time to meet the waves raging at the restraint just placed on them and lusting to wreak their spite. How they battered the ribs of the Nanaimo; how they reared up in huge swirling columns and dropped thunderously on her deck. Had she been the Nanaimo of twenty years ago she might have withstood the attack, but she had had ports cut into her to accommodate the coast lumber trade, and the dead weight of coal cargoes had weakened her upper works. Before evening had come again she was a wreck, and it meant boats in a turbulent sea or going down with her. Two boats were undamaged, and the officers and three seamen took one and four sailors the other. As the skipper swung himself over the lee rail into the boat a canvas bag dropped from his pocket on the deck, and Larkin’s tender ear caught the metallic sound as it touched. He was handling the davit lines and was in doubt if he would be alive an hour hence, but he stooped and shoved the bag into his pocket.

By the time the four men had their boat launched the first one had disappeared in the gathering gloom, and, faith, they had no time to look for it. It took all the strength of O'Hara’s powerful arms to hold her head on, and the throe others bailed for their lives. It was a miracle that the frail craft kept atloat at all in such a sea, for she tossed like a cork, dust as that opaque blackness which precedes the dawn settled over the ocean a wave of supreme mightiness turned over the boat and swept the four occupants, strangling, smothering, on to something. And on to that something they clung madly, digging their fingers into what seemed to lie sand to prevent being carried back by the reflex action of the waves. Then they crawled further away from the horrible water.

A cheerless dawn showed them they were on an island, and shivering they stood up mechanically counting each •ther—four men. “It's a darned coral rock we're on with • bit o' dirt atop,” said Huff,

“And poor entertainment for man or baste o’ the dirt,” added O’Hara; “faith, there’s not even a three.”

Listlessly they walked farther inland. The island appeared to be due to volcanic origin rather than to the coral insect, for they saw some tall rocks to the westward. While the beaeh where they had been washed ashore sloped gently to the sea, the remainder of the coast-line looked precipitous. Only a few yards on cither side of where they had come ashore and they would have been dashed against a wall of rock. The outlook was depressing in the extreme. There were no signs of inhabitants, nor, indeed, of any animal life. Several pools of rain water were found, and they drank copiously. The sun came out bright and hot, and, as O’Hara put it, they hung themselves up on the sand to dry. But their bellies pinched them.

“I’ve a bit of a piece o’ line in my pocket, ' said O’Hara; “if it’s a pin ye can find amongst ye, we might thry for a fish.”

“Ow’d you cook it if you caught it?” asked Dan the Cockney. “It’s pertic’ler ye are,” retorted O’Hara; “way ye like it jist browned or done to a dilikit crisp?” “I’ve the big end of a bloomin’ spyglass that I’ve been carryin’ in my pocket for a year,” said Huff. “This here sun’ll turn it into a burnin’ glass and we’ll have a fire in a jiffy.” The pin was found and bent, and Larkin agreed to fish. He walked down to where there was a fissure in the rocks along the beach and flung over his line. Noting that he was out of sight of the others, he bethought himself of the bag he had picked up off the deck of the Nanaimo. He dumped its contents out on the sand and ten twenty dollar gold pieces glittered in the sun. “The skipper’s savin’s,” he gasped, “and he’s gone to kingdom come. Gord, what luck. ”

With a chance of starving to death on a desert island before him, his covetous soul gloated over the money. He glanced warily around and began to scoop out a hole in the sand, near the rock, to conceal his treasure. Somebody smacked his lips, and he looked up to see Huff leaning against tne rock regarding him. “Two hundred dollars,” he said; “jest fifty a man.” “What are you talking about?” growled Larkin, hastily pocketing the gold.

“Talkin’ about, why, man, ain’t you a socialist, and didn’t you say you’d divide up anything you had even up and ’round ?”

“You fool, if I hadn’t picked up tins’ here money it’d gone down with the barque. Besides I was a talkin’ of making big money like the eapertilists does.” Huff laughed. “You’re a capertilist here,” he said; “outside of you the whole three of us couldn't show up a dime’s wo’th o’ money. And you’re goin’ to divide it, too,” added he grimly. “In course I will,” replied Larkin, “but not now. What’d be the use of dividing it in this infernal place, where money’s no good. You keep your mouth shut. Huff, and you and me ’ll divide it together.” “Ho, ho,” laughed Huff; “I guess you and I'll leave the island together, and I guess you'll divide with me afore you do leave it.”

“I’ll see you in h first,” growled Larkin, scowling after Huff as he -walked off.

Tie hid the money in a new place, and having caught some fish, went back to his companions. The burning glass kindled a fire, and they ate heartily. Evidently Huff bad said nothing about the money.

Two weary days passed without a sight of a sail, and without finding any improvement in their condition. lairkin cursed his evil luck that made Hull

aware of his fiiid, and began to hate him so savagely that he longed for a chance to safely tip him into the sea and drown him. Possibly Huff guessed at his thoughts, for he avoided being alone with Larkin.

The third day when Larkin came in from fishing, for he had chosen this duty, it allowing him to watch his hid-ing-place, Huff came in also from a prospecting walk over the rocks. His countenance betokened news.

“Boys,” he said, as he ate his fish, “there’s a bit of a cove beyond the rocks on the west, and there’s a nice smooth beach there, and there’s something else there; our boat’s there, washed up as tight as a bottle, with one of the oars laying alongside of her.” “Glory be,” ejaculated O’Hara, “now we can leave this place where no ship iver passes and where nothing iver lives.”

“Yes, we’ll go away,” replied Huff; “it’s fine, and fine weather generally lasts a spell in the South Pacific. We can cook enough fish to feed us a while, and there’s a beaker by the boat that’ll hold ten gallons of water. We’ll bring her around this evenin’.” Huff, in honour of his find, was elected unanimously commander-in-chief, and made the following appointments: Larkin was to catch fish, Dan was to cook them as they were brought in, while he and O’Hara were to bring the boat around and make her ship-shape if repairs were needful. The boat, however, was in first-rate condition, and the men awaited impatiently the getting a supply of fish. When a sufficiency had been procured and stowed with the water in the boat, Huff took Larkin to one side. “Mr. Larkin,” said he, “I’m skipper of this here tidy little boat, and she’s about to sail. Would you like to take passage on her?” “Why, you bloomin’ idjut, do you think I want to stay on this bally island?” said Larkin, who had exhumed his money and had it in his trouser’s pocket.

“Then, Mr. Larkin, I’ll tell you that the price of your passage on this splendid boat is two hunnerd dollars, paid to me afore you get aboard of her.” “You dirty scoundrel,” raged Larkin, “I’ll stay first.” “You’re welcome to. You’re poor company at the best. But I’ll tell you your money won’t stay with you.” “Why won’t it?” snarled Larkin. “Because, if I tell these boys that a great socialist like Larkin was a-buryin : his money and tryin’ to hide it from ’em they’ll be so mad that they’ll divide the money and forget your share of it.” “You’re a thief,” gritted Larkin, between his teeth.

“And you’re a pretty sort of a socialist,” sneered Huff; “now, see here, you keep mum about the money, and when we’re picked up I’ll divide with you square.” . ...

There was plainly nothing else for Larkin to do, and he handed over the money to Huff, who placed it calmly in his pocket. Then calling the men together said: “Boys, we’re aliout to leave this here island, and afore we do I want all to say that no one has anything that belongs to another.” “Noliody’s got hanything that hanybody else could take,” said Dan. “I’ve nothing of yours, Larkin, eh?” continued Huff. “No,” replied Larkin, hesitatingly. “All alioard,” shouted Huff. Three days’ pulling with strained wrists and cramped legs; three days of fish diet which gagged them, and three days during which Larkin pulled his oar in sullen time to his dreams of yet outwitting Huff. Then the barque Petrel, from Tacoma to Hongkong, hove in sight and took them alioard.

When the barque was within two days’ sail of Hongkong Larkin, racked with

suspense, went to Huff and demanded • division of the money. “Wot money are you talkin’ about?” asked Huff stonily. Larkin’s voice was husky with suppressed rage and uneasiness as he replied: “Why, the two hunnerd dollars I gave you on the island, and wot you are to divide with me. Come on, now, divvy.” “Man!” exclaimed Huff, with a pitying smile, “that wreck and the hot sun, .to say nothin’ of feedin’ constant on fish, has addled your brain. Where did you find two hunnerd dollars on that there island? And if you had found it, a plumb true socialist like you’d have divided it up and around. That proves you’re dreamin’. You gave me no money.” Rage made Larkin vainly try to articulate. He made a noise something like the utterings of a drowning man coming up for the last time.” “If,” continued Huff, “you’ll ask Dan or O’Hara you’ll find you said I’d nothin’ o’ yours afore we left the island. When the mate of the Petrel separated them, Larkin had much the worst of the fight, and during the remainder of the voyage he nursed his impotent wrath. The day after he and his companions had been landed at Hongkong he was moodily strolling along the river front when he came face to face with Captain Miller, of the late Nanaimo. The skipper was glad to see him, and congratulated him on escaping. The first boat had been picked up by a steamer which had reached Hongkong three days before.

“I met Huff this morning,” said the skipper.

An inspiration seized Larkin. “Skipper,” he said; “didn’t you lose something as you were leaving the barque ?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the skipper; “a little canvas bag with my whole year’s savings in it. My God, man, did you find it?” “Huff has it,” said Larkin, slowly. “The dirty lubber,” snapped Captain Miller; “he knows I’m a poor man, and he never opened his mouth about it. I’ll make him unload.”

The energetic mariner was not long in finding Huff, who denied having the money. The aid of the law being secured, he was searched, and the canvas bag with the greater part of the money found.

“There’s the man who found and tried to steal it,” cried Huff, pointing to Larkin, who was an interested spectator. “Go down to Gunboat Joe’s boardinghouse,” replied Larkin, with calmness; “you’ll find there O’Hara and Dan. Ask them if Huff didn’t ask me if he had anythin’ of mine afore we left the island, and if I didn’t say no? I’d have been likely to have said ‘no’ if he had a-had two hunnerd dollars of mine, wouldn’t I?”

Huff’s temper got the best of him, and he called the magistrate an “old lubber,” and was sentenced to ten days in gaol. “I’d like to give you ten dollars, Larkin,” said Captain Miller, “for putting me on the track of my money, but that thief has spent twenty dollars of it, and 1 can’t afford it.”

As the skipper moved off after shaking hands affectionately with Larkin, that gentleman commented on his action so forcibly in words that a passing Chinaman paused to listen to the outburst.

When Huff left gaol he started to hunt for Larkin,, but that eminent socialist had shipped for Singapore.