Trial by Typhoon by Albert Richard Wetjen Page 4

  evidently laid his cartridge belt aside, for he

  for the beach and safety, he knew. His was unarmed. The sails began to shiver and situation was desperate, armed only with a

  Bradley caught the wheel as it started to run.

  knife and alone, save for a shivering half-

  He checked the ship, then reached down to

  caste, against a large crew of hard-case white

  haul the shaking half-caste to him.

  men. At any other time Typhoon would

  “Can you steer?” he whispered

  probably have taken the reasonable course and

  fiercely. The man nodded dumbly.

  got out, depending upon another meeting to

  Bradley thrust the spokes into his

  give him his revenge. But he was magistrate

  hands.

  of Funafuti Beach, responsible for the peace

  “Keep her as she goes!” he ordered.

  of the pearling season. He was Typhoon “And stop rattling your teeth!”

  Bradley and he had to keep the record clean.

  He slid into the shadow of the main

  cabin skylight and crouched again. Astern of

  HE braced himself and waited. Gentleman

  the Wanderer he could see the red glow in the

  Harry and Tench came to view, the tips of

  night sky that told him ships were still burning

  their cheroots glowing cherry red in the dark.

  back off the beach there. There was no sign of

  They were laughing at something as they pursuit but visibility was poor by starlight and paused together near the binnacle to look at

  there might be a dozen boats on the trail by

  the compass.

  now.

  “We’ll have to alter the course in

  twenty minutes,” said the Gentleman. Tench

  THE mate and Limpy Smith had turned and

  agreed.

  were coming aft again. They reached the end

  “It’s not two miles to the channel. of the skylight and then the mate, glancing at There’s an ugly shoal to the sou’west. We’d

  the wheel, halted with an astonished oath. The

  Action Stories

  14

  half-caste steward’s sweat-dewed face was into the shadows by the wheel and then plain in the binnacle glow, convulsed with

  ducked behind the scuttle. Tench opened up.

  terror.

  Men came running from for’ard and the night

  “What in hell . . .” began the mate and

  grew vivid with orange splashes. The half-

  then something hit him and he went over and

  caste slipped a bowline over the wheel and

  rolled into the scuppers. Limpy Smith, dropped to the deck, quaking with awful fear.

  wizened, vicious and rat-like gave a sudden

  Typhoon shot three times, wounding two men,

  snarl and went into action with surprising and then held his fire. The noise died away as suddenness. That is he dived instinctively for

  Gentleman Harry shouted:

  Typhoon’s legs. Bradley was a little off

  “Get overside, Bradley. We’ll let you

  balance after swinging at the mate and he

  swim clear!”

  went down with a jar. Limpy Smith clawed for

  But Typhoon laughed. He knew what

  his gun and then he thought he had wandered

  was in the Gentleman’s mind. The Wanderer

  into the middle of a cyclone. Steel fingers

  was abeam of Becke’s point and it was time to

  choked back his breath. His right wrist change the course.

  snapped and then he was flung the length of

  He crawled cautiously to the

  the poop to bring up against the for’ard taffrail unconscious mate and relieved him of his

  with sufficient force to topple him over it.

  cartridge belt and then reloaded his gun. The

  Most men would have been killed but Limpy

  Gentleman was swearing thickly. Tench was

  Smith had all the uncanny vitality of a cat. He

  cursing in his beard. The stars were beginning

  landed on his feet, reeled, choked for air and

  to pale and the dawn would soon be upon

  then let out a yell.

  them. The Wanderer had to get through the Typhoon stooped over the pockmarked

  channel right away. If she were delayed she

  mate, secured his gun, hefted it with a little

  would be trapped for another tide and pursuit

  laugh and waited. He had teeth now and he

  would catch her. Bradley set his jaw as he

  was not known as one of the best shots in the

  heard the Gentleman’s voice grow calmer.

  Islands for nothing. There was a pounding of

  Orders rapped out. Men moved swiftly.

  shoes on the main cabin companion. Limpy

  “I’ll give you just thirty seconds to

  Smith was screaming and shouting for the

  clear out, Bradley,” said the Gentleman from

  crew to gather. Gentleman Harry and Tench

  behind the cover of the scuttle. Bradley’s only

  burst on the poop, bewildered at the noise and

  answer was to take a snap shot at the loom of

  confusion. Tench leaned over the for’ard a head. He missed and the next instant the taffrail.

  firing was general.

  “What th’ hell’s wrong, you fool?” he

  roared. “What happened?”

  NEVER before nor after was Typhoon

  “Aft there!” screeched Limpy Smith,

  Bradley in exactly the bad jam he was in then.

  holding his broken wrist and hopping with

  The helmsman he had stunned was reviving

  pain and viciousness. “Aft there. Typhoon and sitting up. The pock-marked mate was Bradley!”

  beginning to move. The night was fast

  “He got loose?” choked the Gentleman

  disappearing and he had only his one gun to

  incredulously and he whipped round to face

  stand off a heavily armed crew of some two

  aft, his gun leaping to his hand.

  dozen men. They were already climbing up

  “Stay where you are!” snapped into the rigging to get shots at him. A veritable Typhoon crisply. “I . . .”

  hail of lead swept the poop waist high so he

  The Gentleman sent a stream of lead

  could not rise. He only grinned. He was

  Trial by Typhoon

  15

  fighting and he was glad. The old wolf was at

  The half-caste, who had barely moved

  bay.

  till this time, gained a sudden surge of

  Crouched and nearly flat he picked off

  courage, lunged upright and catching the

  two men as they climbed into the ratlines. His

  helmsman about the waist carried him

  every shot told. A man who incautiously sprawling to one side. They both dropped, exposed a shoulder around the scuttle went

  riddled in the leaden hail that was whickering

  backward with a hole in his arm. Tench was

  past Bradley. Bradley himself was nicked in a

  wounded in the left thigh.

  half dozen places and his left arm holed, but

  Had the attackers used their heads they

  the wound was so shallow he never noticed it

  would have waited and counted Typhoon’s

  until afterward. He fired his last shot and saw

  shots, and then rushed him while he was the convulsed face of Gentleman Harry before reloading. But they were too angry and him.

  excited. They did not dare to wait.

  “Got you!�
�� snarled the Gentleman and

  The

  Wanderer was yawing badly but

  lifted his gun. He fired, but the bullet whined

  under the urge of the wind still going forward.

  into space.

  Becke’s point was well past the beam. Ahead

  Bradley gathered himself and leaped,

  there was the roaring of breakers, muffled and

  not at the Gentleman, nor at Tench, nor at any

  dim as yet. To port were ugly shoals and the

  of the others who pressed toward him, getting

  channel twisted between them.

  in each other’s way. He jumped to the top of

  Bradley turned his head and saw that

  the locker, from there to the skylight of the

  the half-caste was entirely useless, gray from

  main cabin, hooked back and open because of

  fear and crouched whimpering to the deck.

  the tropical weather. He dropped clear

  Typhoon picked another man out of the through, landed on the main cabin table with a rigging and then wriggled to the wheel. The

  jar that took his breath, jumped from there to

  stars were all but gone. The sky was a vast

  the deck and backed against a bulkhead, clear

  dome of opal white, steadily growing clearer.

  of the skylight opening, while he reloaded his

  Bradley glanced at the sails, glanced to gun with quick, cool fingers.

  windward and chuckled. He threw clear the

  bowline from the wheel, let it spin, checked it,

  THERE was a perfect fury of noise on the

  let it spin again, all while he was lying almost

  poop above. It seemed to the excited attackers

  flat beneath the leaden hail, protected only by

  as if the ship had opened up and swallowed

  the low poop houses. Tench’s harsh voice

  the lone man who had been facing them.

  roared out an oath.

  Gentleman Harry was screaming. Tench was

  “He’s setting us aground!”

  bellowing orders. The pock-marked mate was

  “Come on!” Gentleman Harry arose,

  swearing in a thick, slow voice and

  mad with rage and reckless as he was enraged.

  demanding someone give him a gun.

  He led the charge along the poop and

  And in the midst of all this the

  Typhoon rose to meet it. His six-gun spouted

  Wanderer struck. Under the full press of her flame and death. Four men choked the port

  canvas she rammed into the soft sandy shoal

  passageway with their bodies. Limpy Smith

  Bradley had aimed her at, jarred once or twice

  was shot by one of his own men in the and then slowly heeled to port and was still, excitement. The helmsman Bradley had the main-topmast going by the board with a stunned, revived now, got to his feet and crash of rigging and spars.

  blindly tried to take the lone wolf in the rear,

  On the poop Gentleman Harry had

  to bring him down.

  taken hold of himself with a tremendous

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  16

  effort.

  guns, shot another who drew on him and

  “Lower the boats,” he said harshly,

  drove the rest to the boat falls in some

  “We’ll have to chance it. Water and semblance of order. They made no more provisions.”

  resistance. Covered with blood, his eyes like

  “Jump to it!” Tench roared, because

  ice and his tight-lipped mouth roaring at them,

  now the full day had come they could see, far

  they were quelled.

  down the lagoon, the white topsails of a dozen

  He drove them into the boat when it

  racing ships.

  was overside, jumped into the stern sheets,

  “I’d like to get that swine first!” the

  shipped the tiller and jammed it over with one

  Gentleman grated, staring at the skylight.

  knee while he glared at the frightened men.

  “No time,” Tench pointed out. “He

  Few of them had weapons now. They had

  might shut himself in a cabin and we’d be

  discarded their Winchesters and what

  hours digging him out.”

  revolvers they had were empty from the fierce

  “Dynamite ...” snarled the Gentleman.

  fighting on the poop. As in a mad daze they

  Tench swore at them.

  found themselves pulling at the oars. The mast

  “You’re mad. Let him go now! Those

  was stepped and the sail hoisted. Heeling

  packets will be on us in an hour. We’ve got to

  stiffly, the boat with a madman at her tiller,

  get through the channel before the tide turns.

  roared along after Gentleman Harry.

  We can’t wait.”

  The men were milling in a panic. Their

  losses had been fearful. Tench, the Gentleman

  CHAPTER V

  and the pock-marked mate plunged into the

  LOST LOOT

  midst of them and hammered and kicked some

  sense into them. They slopped one boat in the

  water and the three leaders piled in, together

  TENCH looked around and swore. “He’s

  with four men. The rest fought and quarreled

  gaining on us. He’s a devil. He ought to be

  among themselves to get the other boat dead and he’s chasing us instead, in our own lowered and panic swept them again. It was

  boat with our own men pulling for him.”

  every man for himself.

  “Get the mast stepped and the sail up!”

  In the main cabin Typhoon sensed rasped the pock-marked mate who was what was going on and hesitated. He was sick

  steering. Two of the men had to stop rowing

  and weak but there was still something to be

  to aid with the mast and guys and at first

  done. He knew the Gentleman had pushed off.

  Bradley gained fast. But then the lighter

  He found another gun in Tench’s cabin

  loaded craft began to draw away again.

  and charged up the companion steps. The

  Typhoon balanced himself and fired.

  poop was deserted save for the dead. The

  The range was long and the lunging of the

  survivors of the crew were laboring midships,

  boat made aim difficult but Typhoon could

  striking each other and cursing. The shoot. His first bullet whickered by the Gentleman’s boat was half a cable’s length

  Gentleman’s head. His second splashed the

  away, pulling for the channel, and Bradley

  water alongside. His third nicked the shaft of

  swore. Then he acted.

  an oar but his fourth, fired as the boat steadied He landed on the main deck at one

  for a moment, blew in the back of the mate’s

  jump and swept against those left on board

  head.

  like the typhoon for which he was named. He

  The mate moaned through dead lips.

  knocked down two men with the barrels of his

  He fell forward, letting go the tiller,

  Trial by Typhoon

  17

  and the boat yawed wide, came up into the

  of the men he had cowed attempted to follow

  wind. Tench cursed hysterically and jumped

  him. They remained in the boat looking

  for the stern sheets. The oars brought the boat

  stupidly at each other, as in a dream, and

  to the wind again but they had lost too mu
ch

  watching the racing pearling fleet coming

  distance.

  down the lagoon. They felt as if they had

  “We can’t make the channel now!”

  tangled with a buzz-saw and they had had

  snarled the Gentleman. “Head for the beach.

  enough.

  There’s fifty miles of brush and palms to hide

  A bullet runs faster than a man and

  in and anything can happen.”

  Typhoon fired as he ran. He dropped one of

  Both boats turned for the beach, two

  the seamen with a bullet in the left leg. Tench

  miles distance, but with the changed slant of

  stumbled and fell over a fragment of coral

  the wind the more lightly loaded craft was

  rock and the others left him. The bearded

  hard to manage under sail while Typhoon’s

  captain turned snarling to face Typhoon, his

  packet lay down to it and surged steadily

  eyes wide with terror and desperation. Bradley

  forward. He gained, inch by inch, and he

  killed him as he passed, ignoring the bite of

  withheld his fire when he saw this.

  Tench’s shot in his thigh.

  Far down the lagoon the white sails of

  The race was nearly done then. The

  the pearling fleet were growing. Gentleman

  last seaman, winded, abandoned himself to

  Harry began to shoot wildly but the jumpy

  fate, threw his gun away and cowered on his

  movements of the craft beneath him made aim

  knees. Typhoon struck down at him with a

  impossible.

  gun barrel and went on. He spun the

  Typhoon laughed to himself. The Gentleman half around with a bullet through game was about played through. He had the left shoulder blade, and the Gentleman checked the Wanderer in her flight, beached almost fell. He turned, his face convulsed with

  her on a shoal. Now he had turned the retreat