The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays Part 19

KEENEY (_a touch of resentment in his voice_). I got it jest for you.

MRS. KEENEY (_dully_). I know. (_She turns away from them and walks slowly to the bench on left. She lifts up one of the curtains and looks through a porthole; then utters an exclamation of joy._) Ah, water! Clear water! As far as I can see! How good it looks after all these months of ice! (_She turns round to them, her face transfigured with joy._) Ah, now I must go upon deck and look at it, David.

KEENEY (_frowning_). Best not to-day, Annie. Best wait for a day when the sun s.h.i.+nes.

MRS. KEENEY (_desperately_). But the sun never s.h.i.+nes in this terrible place.

KEENEY (_a tone of command in his voice_). Best not to-day, Annie.

MRS. KEENEY (_crumbling before this command--abjectly_). Very well, David.

(_She stands there staring straight before her as if in a daze.

The two men look at her uneasily._)

KEENEY (_sharply_). Annie!

MRS. KEENEY (_dully_). Yes, David.

KEENEY. Me and Mr. Sloc.u.m has business to talk about--s.h.i.+p's business.

MRS. KEENEY. Very well, David.

(_She goes slowly out, rear, and leaves the door three quarters shut behind her._)

KEENEY. Best not have her on deck if they's goin' to be any trouble.

MATE. Yes, sir.

KEENEY. And trouble they's goin' to be. I feel it in my bones.

(_Takes a revolver from the pocket of his coat and examines it._)

Got yourn?

MATE. Yes, sir.

KEENEY. Not that we'll have to use 'em--not if I know their breed of dog--jest to frighten 'em up a bit. (_Grimly_) I ain't never been forced to use one yit; and trouble I've had by land and by sea's long as I kin remember, and will have till my dyin' day, I reckon.

MATE (_hesitatingly_). Then you ain't goin'--to turn back?

KEENEY. Turn back! Mr. Sloc.u.m, did you ever hear o' me pointin'

s'uth for home with only a measly four hundred barrel of ile in the hold?

MATE (_hastily_). No, sir--but the grub's gittin' low.

KEENEY. They's enough to last a long time yit, if they're careful with it; and they's plenty o' water.

MATE. They say it's not fit to eat--what's left; and the two years they signed on fur is up to-day. They might make trouble for you in the courts when we git home.

KEENEY. To h.e.l.l with 'em! Let them make what law trouble they kin. I don't give a d.a.m.n 'bout the money. I've got to git the ile! (_Glancing sharply at the_ MATE) You ain't turnin' no d.a.m.ned sea lawyer, be you, Mr. Sloc.u.m?

MATE (_flus.h.i.+ng_). Not by a h.e.l.l of a sight, sir.

KEENEY. What do the fools want to go home fur now? Their share o'

the four hundred barrel wouldn't keep 'em in chewin' terbacco.

MATE (_slowly_). They wants to git back to their folks an' things, I s'pose.

KEENEY (_looking at him searchingly_). 'N' you want to turn back, too. (THE MATE _looks down confusedly before his sharp gaze._) Don't lie, Mr. Sloc.u.m. It's writ down plain in your eyes. (_With grim sarcasm_) I hope, Mr. Sloc.u.m, you ain't agoin' to jine the men agin me.

MATE (_indignantly_). That ain't fair, sir, to say sich things.

KEENEY (_with satisfaction_). I warn't much afeard o' that, Tom.

You been with me nigh on ten year and I've learned ye whalin'. No man kin say I ain't a good master, if I be a hard one.

MATE. I warn't thinkin' of myself, sir--'bout turnin' home, I mean. (_Desperately_) But Mrs. Keeney, sir--seems like she ain't jest satisfied up here, ailin' like--what with the cold an' bad luck an' the ice an' all.

KEENEY (_his face clouding--rebukingly but not severely_). That's my business, Mr. Sloc.u.m. I'll thank you to steer a clear course o'

that. (_A pause._) The ice'll break up soon to no'th'rd. I could see it startin' to-day. And when it goes and we git some sun, Annie'll perk up. (_Another pause--then he bursts forth_) It ain't the d.a.m.ned money what's keepin' me up in the Northern seas, Tom.

But I can't go back to Homeport with a measly four hundred barrel of ile. I'd die fust. I ain't never come back home in all my days without a full s.h.i.+p. Ain't that truth?

MATE. Yes, sir; but this voyage you been ice-bound, an'--

KEENEY (_scornfully_). And d' you s'pose any of 'em would believe that--any o' them skippers I've beaten voyage after voyage? Can't you hear 'em laughin' and sneerin'--Tibbots 'n' Harris 'n' Simms and the rest--and all o' Homeport makin' fun o' me? "Dave Keeney what boasts he's the best whalin' skipper out o' Homeport comin'

back with a measly four hundred barrel of ile?" (_The thought of this drives him into a frenzy, and he smashes his fist down on the marble top of the sideboard._) h.e.l.l! I got to git the ile, I tell you. How could I figger on this ice? It's never been so bad before in the thirty year I been a-comin' here. And now it's breakin'up. In a couple o'days it'll be all gone. And they's whale here, plenty of 'em. I know they is and I ain't never gone wrong yit. I got to git the ile! I got to git it in spite of all h.e.l.l, and by G.o.d, I ain't a-goin' home till I do git it!

(_There is the sound of subdued sobbing from the door in rear. The two men stand silent for a moment, listening. Then_ KEENEY _goes over to the door and looks in. He hesitates for a moment as if he were going to enter--then closes the door softly._ JOE, _the harpooner, an enormous six-footer with a battered, ugly face, enters from right and stands waiting for the captain to notice him._)

KEENEY (_turning and seeing him_). Don't be standin' there like a gawk, Harpooner. Speak up!

JOE (_confusedly_). We want--the men, sir--they want send a depitation aft to have a word with you.

KEENEY (_furiously_). Tell 'em to go to--(_checks himself and continues grimly_) Tell'em to come. I'll see'em.

JOE. Aye, aye, sir.

(_He goes out._)

KEENEY (_with a grim smile_). Here it comes, the trouble you spoke of, Mr. Sloc.u.m, and we'll make short s.h.i.+ft of it. It's better to crush such things at the start than let them make headway.

MATE (_worriedly_). Shall I wake up the First and Fourth, sir? We might need their help.

KEENEY. No, let them sleep. I'm well able to handle this alone, Mr. Sloc.u.m.

(_There is the shuffling of footsteps from outside and five of the crew crowd into the cabin, led by_ JOE. _All are dressed alike--sweaters, sea-boots, etc. They glance uneasily at the_ CAPTAIN, _twirling their fur caps in their hands._)

KEENEY (_after a pause_). Well? Who's to speak fur ye?

JOE (_stepping forward with an air of bravado_). I be.