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By PETER B. KYNB eMur tf "WE8STH1--MAN'S MAN," "THE VALLEY fflii )igp is *9 fmm S. Ky-- THE GIANTS,w Brtt II tW iiprir p-f;."' 1 VtORRlfe WAR. P.miipBl». -- Captain PMmm P. Sortings has grown up around the divka of San Francisco, and from mesa boy on a river steamer, rtaen to the ownership of the steamer Mrnggi*. Since each annual Inspection promised to be the last of th« old weatherbe&ten vessel, Scraggs naturally has some difficulty in securing a crew. When the story opens. Adalbert P. Gibnay, likable, but erratic, a man whom nobody but Scraggs would hire, le the skipper, Neils Halvorwn, a solemn Swede, constitutes the forecastle hands, and Bart McGuffey, a wastrel of the Gtbney type, reigns In the engine room. With this motley crew and his ancient vsmel, Captain Scraggs is engaged in freighting garden iruuk frora Halfnown bay to San Francisco. The Inevitable happens; the MaKgie go«a ashore in a fog. A passing vessel hailing the wreck, Mr. Gibney gets word to a towing company in San Francisco that the ship ashore is the Yankee Prince, with promise of a rich salvage. Two tugs succeed In pulling the Maggie into deep water, and she slips her tow lines and gets away in the fog. Furious at the deception practiced on them. Captains Hicks and Flaherty, commanding the two tugboats, ascertain the identity of the "Yankee Prince" and. fearing ridicule should the facts become known along the water front, determine on personal vengeance. Their hostile visit to the Maggie results in Captain Scraggs promising to get a new boiler and make needed repairs to the steamer. Scraggs refuses to fulfill his promises and Gibney and McGuffey "strike." With marvelous luck, Scraggs ships a fresh crew. At the end of a few days of wild conviviality Gibney and McGuffey are stranded and seek tneir old positions ^n the Maggie. Tlwy are hostilely received, but remain. On their way to San Francisco they sight a derelict and Gibney atod McGuffey swim to it. The derelict proves , to be the Chesapeake, richly laden, its entire crew stricken with scurvy. Scraggs attempts to tow her in, but the Maggie is unequal to the task and Gibney and McGuffey. alone, sail the ship to San Francisco, their salvage money amounting to 11,000 apiece. His crew having deserted him. Captain Scraggs induces them to return. At an "old horse" sale the three purchase two mysterious bo km which they believe to contain smuggled "Oriental goods." They find, instead, two dead Chinamen. Scraggs seeks t,o "double cross" hio two associates, but Mr. Gibney outwits him and makes a satisfactory financial settlement with the Chinese company to whom the bodies have been consigned, leaving Scraggs out in the cold. Glbr.ey resents McGuffey's action in lending money to Scraggs without consulting him, and after a terrific wordy combat the three separate, McGuffey becoming assistant engineer on an oil tanker, Gibney disappearing, and Scraggs, forced to lay up the Maggie, takes a subordinate position on a ferry steamer. Senor Lope*. Mexican revolutionist, makes Scraggs a generous offer for transportation of munitions to Lower California. Scraggs accepts, and the old Maggie is once more put Into commission. Arriving at his destination, Scraggs finds his old companion, Mr. Gibney, Is the consignee. Time having softened animosities, the reunion is Joyful. .CHAPTER IX--Continued. »yT" demanded Captain Scraggs, Instantly on the defensive. "Not that I'm faoldin* any grudge agin you, Scraggsy," said Mr. Gibney affably, "but I wouldn't a-had you no more now than I would when we was rennin' In the green-pea trade. It's because you ain't got no imagination, and the Maggie ain't big enough for n»y purpose. Havin' the Maggie sort of puts a crimp in my plans." "Rot," snapped Captain Scraggs Tve the Maggie overhauled and shipped a new wheel, and she's u mighty smart little boat, m tell you. Ill land them arms in Descanso bav all right." "I Know you will," said Mr. Glbne. a*dly. "That's Just what hurts. Yoii aee, Scraggsy, I never Intended 'em for Descanso bay In the first place. There's a nice healthy little revolution fomentin' down In the United States ef Colombia, with Adelbert P. Gibne.v playln' both ends to the middle. And there's a dog-hole down on the Gold coast where I intended to land this cargo, but now that Scab Johnny's gone to work and sent me a bay scow instead of a sea-goln' steamer, I'm In the nine-hole instead o' dog-hole. 1 can never get as far as the Gold coast 'with the Maggie. She-can't carry coal enough to last her." "Bat I thought these guns and things was for the Mexicans," quavered Captain Scraggs. "Scab Johnny and Lopez told me they was." Mr. Gibney groaned and hid his face to Ma hands. "Scraggsy," he said sadly, "it's a cinch you ain't used the past four years to stimulate that imagination of yours. Of course they was purchased for the Mexicans, but what was to, prevent me from lettin' the Mexicans pay for them, help out on the charter of the boat, and then have me divert the cargo Ho the United States of Colombia, where I can sell 'em at a clear profit, the cost bein' nothln* to speak of? Now you got-to come buttin*. In with the Maggie, and what happens? Why, I got to be honest, of course. I got to make good1 on my bluff, and what's In it for me? Nothln' but glory. Can you hock a chunk of glory for ham and eggs, Pbtneas Scraggs? Not on your life. If It hadn't been for you buttin' In with your blasted, rotten hulk of a- freshwater skiff, I'd--" Mr. Gibney paused ominously and savagely bit the end of his cigar. As for Captain Scraggs, every drop of Mood in bis body was boiling in defense of the ship he loved. "You're a pirate," he shrilled. "And you're just as big a hornet as yvu ever was," replied Mr. Uibney. "Alwtys buzsin' around where you ' , : ain't wahted. But still, what's the use of bawlln' over spilt milk? We'll drop into San Diego for a couple of hours and take on coal, and about sunset we'll pull out and make the run down to Descanso bay In the dark. We might as well forget the past and put this thing through as per program. Only I saw visions of a schooner all my own, Scraggsy, and--well, what's the use? What's the use? Scraggsy, you're a natural-born mar-plot. Always buttin' in, buttin' In, fit for nothln' but the green-pea trade. However, I guess I can turn into my old berth and get some sleep. Put the old girl under a slow bell and save your coal. We'll have to fool away four or five hours in San Dlesro anyhow and there ain't no sense in crowdin' the old hulk." "Gib," said Captain Scraggs, "was that really your lay--to steal the cargo, double-cross the Insurrecto junta, and sell out to a furrln" country?" "Of course It was," said Mr. Gibney pettishly. "They all do each things In the banana republics. Why should I be an exception? There's half a dozen different gangs flghtin' each other and the government in Mexico, and if I don't deliver these arms, Just see all the lives I'll be savin'. And after I got the - cargo into Colombia and sold it, I could have peached on the rebels there, and got a reward for it, and saved a lot more lives, and come away rich and respected." "By the Lord Harry," said Captalp Scraggs, "but you've got an imagination, Gib. I'll swear to that. Gib, I take off my hat to you. You're all tight and shipshape and no loose ends bobbin' around you. Don't tell me th' scheme's got t' fall through, Gib. Great snakes, don't tell me that. Ain't there some way o' gettin' around It? There must be. Why, Gib, my dear boy, I never heard of such a grand lay in my life. It's a absolute winner. Don't give up, Gib. Oil up your imagination and find a way out. Let's get together, Gib, and make a little money. Dang it all, Gib, I been lonesome ever since I seen you last." "Well," replied Mr. Gibney, "111 turn in and try to scheme a way out, but I don't hold out no hope. Not a ray of It. I'm afrfcld, Scraggsy, we've got to be honest." Saying which, Mr. Gibney hopped up into his berth, stretched his huge legs, and fell asleep with his clothes on. Captain Scraggs looked him over with the closest approach to affection that had ever lightened his cold gray eye, and sighing heavily, presently went on deck. As he passed up the companionway. the first mate heard him murmur: "Gib's a fine lad. I'll be dad burned if he ain't." . At six o'clock next morning the Maggie was rounding Point Loma, heading in for San Diego bay, and Captain Scraggs went below and awakened Mr. Gibney. "What's for breakfast, Scraggsy, old kid?" asked Mr. Gibney. "Fried eggs," said Captain Scraggs, remembering Mr. Gibney's partiality for that form of nutriment in the vanished days of the green-pea trade. "Ham an' fried eggs an' a sizzlln' pot o' coffee. Thought a way out o' our mess, Gib?" "Not yet," replied Mr.. Gibney as he rolled out of bed. "but eggs is always stimulatin', and I don't give up hope on a full stomach."* An hour later they were tied up under the coal bunkers, and at Mr. Gibney's suggestion some twenty tons of .•^'*SS8Fs y't "I'd Sooner Die Flghtin' Than Let Them 8tand M« Up Agin a Wall in Ensenada." sacked coal were plied on top of the fo'castle head and on the main deck for'd, in case of emergency. They lay in the harbor alt day until about four o'clock, when Mr. Gibney, by virtue of his authority as supercargo, ordered the lines cast off and the Maggie steamed out of the harbor. Off Point Loma they veered to the south, leaving the Coronado Islands on the starboard quarter, ten miles to the west. Mr. Gibney was below with Captain Scraggs. battling with the problem that confronted them, when the mate stuck his head down the companionway to report a large power schooner coming out from the lee of the Coro^- nados and standing off on a course calculated to Intercept the Maggie In an hour or two. Captain Scraggs and Mr. Gibney sprang up on the bridge at once, the latter with Scraggs' long glass up to his eye. •- _ • :*Xl- "She was hove to under the lee of the island, and the minute we came out of the harbor and turned south she come nosln' after us," said the mate. "Hum!" muttered Mr. Gibney. "Gasoline schooner. Two masts and baldheaded. About a hundred and twenty ton, I should say, and showln' a pretty pair of heels. There's somethin' up for'd--yes--let me see--ye-es, there's two more--holy sailor! it's a gunboat t One of those doggoned gasoline -coast patrol boats, and there's the federal flag flying at the fore." "Lift's put back to San Diego bay," quavered Captain Scraggs. "I'll be dumed If I relish the idee o' losln' the Maggie." "Too late," said the philosophical Gibner. "We're in Mexican waters now, and She can cut us off from the bay. The only thing we can do is to run for it and try to lose her after dark. Tell the engineer to crowd her to the limit. There ain't much wind to speak of, so I guess we can manage to hold our own for a while. Nevertheless, I've got a hunch that well be overhauled. Of course, you ain't got no papers to show, Scraggs, and they'll search the cargo, and confiscate us, and shoot the whole bloomin' crowd of us. I bet a dollar to a doughnut that fellow Lopez sold us out, after the fashion of the country. I can't help thlnkin' that that gunboat was there just a-waitin' for us to show up." For several minutes Mr. Gibney continued to study the gunboat until there could no longer be any doubt that she intended to overhaul them. He made out that she had a long gun for'd, with a battery of two one-pounders on top of her house and something on her port quarter that looked like a Maxim rapid-fire gun. About twenty men, dressed in white cloth, could be seen on her decks. Presently Mr. Gibney was Interrupted by Captain Scraggs pulling at his sleeve. "You was a gunner once, wasn't you, Gib?" said Captain Scraggs in a trembling voice. "You bet I was," replied Mr. Gibney. "My shootin' won the trophy three times In succession when I was on the old Kearsarge. If I had one good gun and a half-decent crew, I'd knock that gunboat silly before she knew what had hit her." "Gib, I've got an idee," said Captain Scraggs. "Out with it," said Mr. Gibney cheerfully. "There was four little cannon lowered into the hold the last thing before we put on the main hatch, and the ammunition to load 'em with Is stowed In the after hold and very .easy to get at." Mr. Gibney turned a beaming face to the skipper, reached out his arms, and folded Captain Scraggs in an embrace that would have done credit to a grizzly bear. There were genuine tears of admiration in his eyes and in his voice when he could master his emotions sufficiently to speak. "Scraggsy, old tarpot, you've been a long time comln' through on the lmagi-° nation, but you've sure arrived with all sail set. I always thought you had about as much nerje as an oyster, but I take it all back. We'll get out them two little jackass guns and fight a naval battle, and if I don't sink that Mexican gunboat, and save the Maggie, feed me to the sharks, for I won't be worthy of the blood that's in me. Pipe all hands and lift off that main hatch. Reeve a block and tackle 1 ti rough that cargo gaff and stand by in heave out the guns." But Captain Scraggs had repented of Iiis rash suggestion almost the moment he made it. Only the dire necessity of desperate measures to save the Maggie had prompted him to put the idea into Mr. Gibney's head, and when ho saw the avidity with which the latter set to work clearing for action, his terror knew no bounds. "Oh, Gib," he wailed, "I'm afraid we better not try to lick that gunboat after all. They might sink us with all : t Hinds." | "Rats!" said Mr. Gibney/ as he i leaped into the hold. "Bear « light here until I can root out the wheels of these guns. Here they are, labeled I cream separator.' Stand by with that j sling to--" I "But, Gib, my dear boy," protested Captain Scraggs, "this is insanity!" "I know it," said Mr. Gibney calmly. "Scraggsy, you're perfectly right. But I'd sooner die fightin' than let them j stand me up agin a wall in Ensenada 1 We're filibusters, Scraggsy, and we're | caught with the goods. I, for one, am goin' down with the steamer Maggie, ' hut I'm goin' down flghtin' like ; bear." "Maybe--maybe we can outrun her, Gib," half-sobbed Captain Scraggs. "No hope," replied Mr. Gibney "Fight and die is the last resort She's eight miles astern and galnln every minute, and when she's wlthiu two miles she'll open fire. Of course we won't be hit unless they've got a Yankee gunner aboard." "Let's run up the Stars and 8trlpes and dare 'em to fire on as," said Captain Scraggs. No," said Mr. Gibney firmly, "my old man died for the flag an' I've sailed under It too long to hide behind it when I'm In Dutch. We'll fight. If you was ever navigatin' officer on a Colombian gunboat, Scraggs, you'd realize what it means to run from a Mexican." Captain Scraggs said nothing further. Perhaps he was a little ashamed of himself in the face of Mr. Gibney's Rimple faith in his own ability; perhaps in his veins, all unknown, there flowed a taint of the heroic blood of some forgotten sea-dog. Be that as it may. something did swell in his breast when Mr. Gibney spoke of the flag and his scorning to hide ' ' ' • ~V:- V- •--• : - - v'- ' - .... . . 1 • :-k. behind it, and Scraggs" snaggle teeth came together with a snap. "All right, Gib, my boy," he said solemnly, "I'm with you. Mrs. Scraggs has slipped her cable and there ain't nobody to mourn for me. But if we can't fight under the Stars and Stripes, by the tall of the Great Sacred Bull, we'll have a flag of our own," and leaving Mr. Gibney and the crew to get the guns on deck, Captain Scraggs ran below. He appeared on deck presently with a long blue burgee on which was emblazoned In white letters the single word Maggie. It was his own houseflag, and with trembling hands he ran it to the fore and cast its wrinkled folds to the breeze of heaven. "Good old dishcloth!" shrieked Mr. Gibney. "She never cornea down." "D--d if she does," said Captain Scraggs profanely. While all this was going on, a deckhand had reeved a block and tackle through the end of the cargo gaff and passed It to the winch. The two guns came out of the hold in Jig time, and while Scraggs and one deckhand opened the after hold and got out am- -My Maggie's Tail Is 8hot Away." a bla dust. of iptaln munition for the guns, Mr. Gibney, assisted by the other deckhand, proceeded to put one of the guns together. He was shrewd enough to realize that he would have to do practically Jill of the work of serving the gun himself, in view of which condition one gun would have to defend the Maggie. He had never seen a mountain gun before, but he did not find it difficult to put the simple mechanism together. "Now, then, Scraggsy," he announced cheerfully when the gtm was finally assembled on the carriage, get a sizeable timber an* spike it to the center o' the deck. I'll run the trail spade up against that cleat an' that'll keep the recoil from lettin' the gun go backward, clean through the opposite rail and overboard. Gimme a coupler gallons o' distillate an' some waste, somebody. This cosmollne's got to come out o' the tube an' out o' the breech mechanism before we commence shootin'." The enemy had approached within three miles by the time the piece was ready for action. Under Mr. Gibney's instructions Captain Scraggs held the fuse setter in case it should be necessary to adjust with shrapnel. Mr. Gibney inserted his sights and took a preliminary squint. "A little different from gun-pointln' In the navy, but about the same principle," he declared. In the army I believe they call this kind o' shootin' direct fire, because you sight direct on the target." He scratched his Ingenious "head and examined the ammunition. "Not a htgh explosive shell In the lot," he mourned. "I'll have to use percussion fire to get the range; then I'll drop back a little an' spray her with shrapnel. Seems a pity to smash up a fine schooner like that one with percussion fire. I'd rather tickle 'em tip a bit with shrapnel ^n' scare 'em Into runuln' away." He got out the lanyard, slipped a cartridge In the breech, paused, an-'l scratched his head again. His calm deliberation was driving Scraggs crazy. He reminded Mr. Gibney with frome asperity that they were not alleging a strawberry festival and tor the love of heaven to get busy. "I'm estimatin' the range, you snipe," Gibney retorted. "Looks to be about three miles to me. A little long, i.iebbe, for this gun, but--there's noth lu' like tryin'," and he sighted cc.refully. "Fire," he bawled as the Maggie rested an instant in the trough of the sea--and a deckhand jerked the lanyard. Instantly Mr. Gibney clapped the long glass to his eye. "Good direction--over," he marmured. "I'll lay on her waterllne next time." He Jerked open the breech, ejected th£ cartridge case, and rammed another cartridge home. This shot struck the water directly under the schooner's bow and threw water over her forecastle head. Mr. Gibney smiled, spat overboard, and winked confidently at Captalu Scraggs. "Like spearin' fish in a bath tub." he declared. He bent over the fuse setter. "Corrector three zero," he Intoned, "four eight hundred." Be thrust a cartridge In the fuse setter, twisted it, slammed It in the gun, and fired again. "Over," he growled. Something whined over the Maggie and threw up a waterspout half a mile beyond her. "Dubs," Jeered Mr. Gibney. aiM .'..V f -• ^ '•.%'•*£* , A „ ' , < " * the _ S en< irtwke ftp* Scraggs "Tit for tat?* the philosophical Gibney reminded him. "W® ean't expect to get away with everfttttMK Scraggsy, old klddo." The words were scarcely <Mt of his mouth before the Maggie's mMinmast and about ten feet of her ancient railing were trailing alongside. Mr. Gibney whistled softly through his teeth and successfully sprayed the Mexican again. "It breaks my heart to ruin that craft's canvas," he declared, and let her have it once more. "My Maggie's tall is shot away," Captain Scraggs walled, "an* I only rebuilt it a week ago." Three more shots from the long gun missed them, but the fourth carried away the cabin, leaving the \^reck of the pilot house, with the helmsman unscathed, stick* ing • up like a sore thumb. "Turn her around and head straight for them," the gallant Gibney roared. "She's a smaller target comln' bows on. We're broadside to her now." "Gib, will you ever sink that Greaser?" Captain Scraggs sobbed hysterically. "Doc't want to sink her," the supercargo retorted. "She's a nice little schooner. I'd rather capture her. Maybe we can use her in our business, Scraggsy," and he continued to shower the enemy with high bursting shrapnel. When the two vessels were less than two miles apart the one-pounders came into action. It was pretty shooting and the wicked little shells ripped through the old Maggie like buckshot through a roll of butter. Mr. Gibney slid flat on the deck be*lde his gun and Captain Scraggs sprawled beside him. "A feller," Mr. Gibney announced, has got to take a beatin' while lookin' for an openln' to put over the knockout blow. NIf the old Maggie holds together till we're within a cable length that schooner an' we ain't all killed by that time, I bet I'll make than skunks sing soft an' low." "How?" Captain Scraggs chattered. "With muzzle bursts," Mr. Gibney replied. "I'll set my fuse at zero, an' at point-blank range I'll just rake everything off that schooner's decks. Guess I'll get half a dozen cartridges set an' ready for the big scene. Up with yoa, Admiral Scraggs, an' hold the fuse setter steady." "I'm agin war," Scraggs quavered, GJb, It's sure h--11." "Rats! It's lnvlgoratln', Scraggsy. There ain't nothln' wrong with war, Scraggsy, unless you happen to get killed. Then It's like cholera. You can cure every case except the first one." They had come inside the minimum range of the Mexican's long gun now, so that only the one-pounders continued to peck at the Maggie. Evidently the Mexican was as eager to get to close quarters as Mr. Gibney, for he held steadily on his cotirse. "Well, It's time to put over the big stuff," Mr. Gibney remarked presently. Here's hopin' they don't pot roe with rifle fire while I'm extendln' my compliments." Captain Gibney, a vlct«r» «r» ganute* TV Syndicate.** (TO BE CONTINUED.) 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