Chapter 28

MONTGOMERY'S OFFER

High-water was near and a trail of smoke, creeping up along the coast, streaked the shining sea. Brown watched the smoke until two masts and a funnel rose out of the vapor and began to get distinct. Then he put down his glasses and lighted his pipe. The steamer was making for the lagoon.

He had not long since gone to the native town up the creek and returned with a gang of laborers. So far, the negroes had worked well, but just now he did not need them and they lay about in the shade, some wearing a short waist-cloth and some a sheet of cotton that hung from their shoulders. The tide had covered the wreck, but the big rotary pump was running and, since the men had loosened the top of the cargo, it lifted the slimy stuff.

A plume of steam that looked faint and diaphanous in the strong light blew away from the noisy machine. A large flexible pipe rose from the submerged hold and another ran from the pump across the hulk's deck. From the end of the pipe a thick, brown flood poured into the water and stained the green lagoon as the flood tide carried it along. The clash and rattle of the engine carried far, for the load was heavy and Lister was using full steam. The boiler was large and the furnace burned more coal than he had thought. Sometimes palm kernels that had not altogether rotted jambed the fans, and he held the valve-wheel, trying to ease the shocks, while the perspiration dripped from his blistered skin. When Brown indicated the steamer he looked up.

"She's coming in; I think I know the hooker," the captain remarked. "Shallow-draught, coasting tank; goes anywhere she'll float for twenty tons of freight. The skipper, no doubt, expects Montgomery's got a few hogsheads of oil, and it's possible he'll sell us some coal. The parcels-vanners are pretty keen to trade."

"We want coal," said Lister and turned abruptly.

The pump jarred and stopped, the swollen suction pipe shrank, and the splash of the discharge died away. For some time Lister was occupied and when he restarted the engine and looked about again the steamer was steering for the hulk. She was a small vessel, going light, with much of her rusty side above water. A big surf-boat hung, ready for lowering, at her rail and a wooden awning covered her bridge-deck. When the throb of her engines slackened two or three white men leaned over her bulwarks and looked down at the hulk with languid curiosity. Their faces were haggard and their poses slack. The stamp of the fever-coast was plain.

The telegraph rang, the engines stopped, and a man on the bridge shouted: "Good morning! You have taken on an awkward job!"

His voice was hollow and strained, and by contrast Brown's sounded full and hearty.

"We're getting ahead all the same. Where are you for?"

"_Sar_ Leone, after we call at Montgomery's."

"Then you can fill your bunkers, and our coal's getting short. Can you sell us some?"

The other asked how much Brown wanted and how much he would pay. Then he beckoned a man on the deck to come up, and turned to Brown again.

"We might give you two or three surf-boat loads, but I'll see you when we come back. We must get up the creek and moor her before the tide ebbs."

He seized the telegraph handle, the propeller began to turn, and when the steamer forged ahead Brown looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps I'd better take a trip up the creek in the evening. We want the coal and I don't altogether trust Montgomery," he said.

Lister agreed that it might be prudent for Brown to go, but he was occupied by the pump and they said no more. To lift the cargo when the water covered the wreck's hatches and loosened the pulpy mass was easier and he must keep his engine running full speed. When they stopped he was exhausted by the heat and the strain of watching and did not go with Brown.

The captain did not, as he had promised, come back in the morning, but after a time a smoke-trail streaked the forest and the steamer moved out on the lagoon. Lister sent a boy for the glasses, since he expected Brown was on board, but so far as he could see, the captain was not. The white wave at the bows indicated that the vessel was steaming fast and it did not look as if she was going to stop. In order to reach the channel across the bar, she must pass near the hulk, and Lister waved to the captain.

"What about the coal?" he shouted.

The other leaned out from the rails and Lister, studying him with the glasses, saw a small patch, like sticking plaster, on his forehead. The side of his face was discolored, as if it were bruised, and frowning savagely, he shook his fist.

"You can go to _Sar_ Leone or the next hottest spot for your coal!" he roared and began to storm.

Lister had sometimes disputed with Western railroad hands and marine firemen, but he thought the captain's remarks equaled the others' best efforts. In fact, it was some relief when a lump of coal, thrown by a sailor on the hulk, crashed upon the wooden awning, and for a moment the savage skipper paused. For all that, Lister stopped the sailor, who was going to throw another block.

"Hold on! The stuff is valuable!" he said.

The captain began again, but the steamer had forged ahead, and his voice got fainter and was presently drowned by the beat of the screw. Lister went back to the pump. The machine was running unevenly and sometimes the powerful engine jarred. He meant to take it down, but so long as the pump sucked up the kernels he durst not stop. Speed was important; they must finish the job and get away before the heat and malaria wore them out. In the meantime, he was disturbed about Brown, who ought to have returned, and at sunset he started for the factory in the tug's second boat.

Dark came suddenly and when he landed a hot, clammy fog thickened the gloom. Little fires the factory boys had lighted by ancient custom twinkled in the haze and a yellow beam from the veranda windows touched the towering cottonwoods, but all else was dark and the spot was somehow forbidding. One felt the gloom was sinister. A few miles up the creek, the naked bushmen served their savage gods with fantastic rites and the Ju-Ju men and Ghost Leopards ruled the shadowy land. At the factory white men got sick and died.

Lister went up the steps, and entering the big room, saw Montgomery in a Madeira chair. His face was wet by sweat, but although his thin form was covered by a blanket he shook with ague. Brown occupied a rude couch, made from two long boxes in which flintlock guns are shipped. He lay in an ungainly pose, his head had fallen from a cushion, and his face was dark with blood. His eyes were shut and he breathed with a snoring noise.

"What's the matter with the captain?" Lister asked, although he thought he knew.

"He's exhausted by his efforts and the worse for liquor," Montgomery answered with a laugh. "On the whole, I think you had better let him sleep. Perhaps you remarked that some of the glass is broken and two of my chairs are smashed!"

Lister had not remarked this, but he looked about and began to understand. He had seen Brown throw a Spanish landlord out of a Grand Canary wine shop.

"Your captain arrived when the steamboat men were dining with me," Montgomery resumed. "In this country we're a hospitable lot and it's the custom to send West African factories a supply of liquor every three months. Mine arrived not long since, and if you open the cupboard you'll see how much is left. But there are cigarettes in the tin box; they mildew unless they're canned. Make yourself a cocktail. I don't want to get up and my boy's in the compound, playing a drum to keep off the ghosts."

Lister lighted a cigarette and listened. A monotonous, rhythmic throb stole into the room, and he felt there was something about the noise that jarred.

"I'll cut out the cocktail. You're rather generous with your liquor," he remarked dryly. "But how did the trouble Brown made begin?"

"By a dispute about some coal."

"Ah!" said Lister, who looked at Montgomery hard.

He imagined the steamboat captain had meant to give them coal, since the man had agreed with Brown about the price. In fact, it looked as if he had been willing to do so, until he arrived at the factory. Then he refused, and Brown, no doubt, got savage.

Montgomery was not embarrassed and indicated the unconscious skipper.

"If Cartwright's not losing his keenness, it's strange he sent out a man like this, but perhaps he couldn't get a sober captain to go."

"Brown has some talents. For example, he got the boys we wanted, although you refused to help."

"We must see if he can keep them!" Montgomery rejoined, with a meaning smile. "In the meantime, it's not important. Are you making much progress at the wreck?"

Lister admitted that they were not getting on as fast as he had hoped, and when Montgomery gave him a keen glance tried to brace himself. He felt slack and his head ached. He had been getting slack recently, and now, when he imagined he must be alert, to think was a bother.

"You have not been long at the lagoon, but you're beginning to feel the climate," the other remarked. "It's perhaps the unhealthiest spot on an unhealthy coast, and a white man cannot work in the African sun. However, you know why the salvage company threw up their contract. They lost a number of their men and if you stay until the morning you can see their graves. The rest of the gang had had enough and were too sick to keep the pump running."

"You are not encouraging," Lister observed.

"I don't exaggerate. I know the country and the caution one must use, but you see I'm ill."

The thing was obvious. Montgomery's hollow face was wet by sweat, his eyes were dull, and his hands shook. Lister saw he tried to be cool, but thought him highly strung.

"If you're wise, you'll give up your post and get away before fever knocks you out," Montgomery resumed. "In fact, I think I can promise you another berth. The house owns two or three factories and at one we are going to start a big oil-launch running to a native market up river. Then we have bought new machinery for breaking palm nuts and extracting the kernels and have fixed a site for the building at a dry, sandy spot. I don't claim the neighborhood's healthy, but it's healthier than this, and we have inquired about an engineer. Would you like the post?"

"I think not. I'm Cartwright's man. I've taken his pay."

Montgomery smiled ironically. "Let's be frank! I expect you want to force me to make a high bid. You don't know the African coast yet, but you're not a fool and are beginning to understand the job you have undertaken. You can't float the wreck; the fellow Cartwright sent to help you is a drunken brute, and I have grounds for thinking Cartwright, himself, will soon go broke. Well, we need an engineer and I'll admit we have not found good men keen about applying. If you can run the launch and palm-nut plant, we'll give you two hundred pounds bonus for breaking your engagement, besides better wages than Cartwright pays."

Lister knitted his brows and lighted a fresh cigarette. He was not tempted, but he wanted to think and his brain was dull. To begin with, he wondered whether Montgomery did not think him something of a fool, because it was plain the fellow had grounds for offering a bribe. His doing so indicated that he did not want the wreck floated. Anyhow, Montgomery had imagined he would not hesitate to break his engagement for two hundred pounds. He must be cautious and control his anger.

"On the whole, it wouldn't pay me to turn down Cartwright's job," he said. "Two hundred pounds is not a very big wad, and if we can take the boat home I reckon the salvage people would give me a good post. I must wait until I'm satisfied the thing's impossible."

"When you are satisfied I'll have no object for engaging you. We want an engineer now," Montgomery replied.

"Well," said Lister, "I reckon that is so." He paused, and thinking he saw where the other led, resolved to make an experiment. "All the same, since you are willing to buy me off, it looks as if we had a fighting chance to make good. Then, if I am forced to quit, I rather think you'd pay me something not to talk. For example, if I put Cartwright wise--"

Montgomery gave him a scornful smile. "You're keener than I thought, but you can't tell Cartwright much he doesn't believe he knows. I'll risk your talking to somebody else."

"Oh, well," said Lister, "I guess we'll let it go. In the meantime, I'll get off and take the captain along. I allow you have fixed him pretty good but he put his mark on the steamboat man and your furniture."

He called the sailors, and finding the two who had brought Brown to the factory, carried him downstairs and put him on board the boat. The captain snored heavily and did not awake. When they pushed off, and with the other boat in tow drifted down the creek, Lister pondered.

He did not know if he had well played his part, but he had not wanted Montgomery to think his staunchness to his employer must be reckoned on; he would sooner the fellow thought him something of a fool. When Montgomery offered the bribe he probably knew he was rash; his doing so indicated that he was willing to run some risk, and this implied that Cartwright's supposition about the wreck was justified. Montgomery was obviously resolved she should not be floated and might be a troublesome antagonist. For example, he had stopped their getting coal and Lister was persuaded he had made Brown drunk. If the control the captain had so far used broke down, it would be awkward, since Montgomery would no doubt supply him with liquor.

It was plain the fellow meant to bother them as much as possible, but since he had not owned the wrecked steamer his object was hard to see. In the meantime, Lister let it go and concentrated on steering the boat past the mud banks in the creek.