El Diablo Part 21

"It's the truth, Pete Carlin, and you know it."

d.i.c.kie moved closer to Carlin and her eyes met his. "You can't look me in the eye and deny it," she challenged. As the man said nothing, she flashed: "Get off my dock while you're still able to walk. If I was a man I'd knock you down."

The man grinned but did not move.

"But you ain't," he retorted. "I reckon I ain't goin' to have no fool girl tell me where to head in at. I reckon I----"

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and his sentence remained unfinished.

Gregory's eyes were snapping close to Carlin's.

"Beat it," he said, "while the trail's open."

Carlin flashed a glance over his shoulder at the fishermen who stood looking on in stoical silence. Then he decided to go. Mumbling to himself, he turned sullenly from the men about him and walked slowly down the dock.

d.i.c.kie Lang faced the silent fishermen.

"Now, boys, what is it? I'll hear what you've got to say. But I won't have any dealings with a crook."

The men about her shuffled their feet and drew closer. Then a man in a faded plaid jumper detached himself from the others and began to speak.

"We ain't got nothin' against you, Miss Lang," he began uncertainly.

"But we've all got to look out for ourselves. We got families and folks dependin' on us. Livin' 's out of sight. So is clothes and everything.

We----"

"What's your proposition, Blagg?"

The fisherman hesitated at the directness of the question. Then he recited: "Straight time. Eight-hour day for six dollars. Double money for overtime and Sundays."

d.i.c.kie started at the demand. Carlin had done his work well to set such a limit as that. She wondered how far the seeds of discontent had spread among the others. As her eye traveled over the silent groups, Blagg went on:

"You see, miss, as I say we got families and the women-folks----"

"Don't blame the women, Joe," interrupted the girl. "If they got half of what the saloons leave they'd have no kick coming. I'll bet they're not back of this. You've been listening to a half-baked fool who couldn't make a living if dollars grew on trees. All Pete Carlin can do is talk.

You boys know he isn't a fisherman."

She stepped closer and her voice dropped to a conversational tone. "It just isn't in the business, boys. If I promised to pay those wages I couldn't do it. I'd be broke with the first run of bad luck and you know it as well as I do, if you'd stop to think. The man doesn't live who can pay that around here and get out."

Blagg smiled knowingly at the fishermen.

"You're wrong, miss," he said. "We've already got the offer for a job at them terms."

"Not here?"

He nodded. "Right here in town. We won't have to move nor nothin'."

Watching the effect of his words upon the girl, he went on, carried away by the importance of his announcement. "That's why we're puttin' it up to you. You've always shot pretty square with us. But money talks, and we all got to look out for Number One. I reckon none of the boys is honein' to go to work for a furrinor, but we all knows his money's good as yours and that's what counts."

"You mean you're going to ditch me for Mascola?"

Blagg dropped his eyes to the planks of the wharf before the girl's steady gaze.

"We don't aim to ditch n.o.body," he said awkwardly. "But we got to live.

The dago's offered us six day straight with double for overtime and Sundays. We ain't decided yet. We waited to give you a chance."

d.i.c.kie Lang listened quietly, her eyes roaming among the knots of silent fishermen. Some she noticed stood close and as their spokesman went on, shuffled closer. Others held aloof. When Blagg had concluded, she began to speak in a voice which carried to the detached groups of men standing in the back row.

"I'm not going to say much. But what I do say I want it to sink in. Come up closer all of you where we can see one another."

When the fishermen ranged themselves about her, she looked hard into their weather-beaten faces and went on earnestly: "Boys, you've known me since I was a kid. Most of you knew my dad. If you did, you knew a man.

He had to fight hard for a living. But he shot square every foot of the way. Some of you were here when he came."

She singled out a few of the older men and spoke directly to them: "Do you think you'd be here now if it hadn't been for Bill Lang? What were the Russians and Austrians doing to you when he came? You were all down on your uppers and didn't know where your next meal was coming from. Who was it that took up your fight? Who backed you with boats and gear and taught you how to fish so you could hold your own against the outsiders?

You know without my telling you."

Some of the older fishermen dropped their eyes to the rough board planks at the girl's words. There was no doubt that Lang had been square. But as Blagg had pointed out, a man had to look out for himself.

"You think that hasn't anything to do with your quitting me to get more money? All right. I'll show you that it has. Let me ask you some questions. What is Mascola paying his own fishermen? Why should he pay you fellows twice that much? Does he think you'll rob more traps, lay round more nets and run more men off the beach with his seine? Why should he pay you six dollars when he can load up with a gang that'll do what he says for three? Is that business?"

She paused and her lips compressed in a straight line as she went on: "You can answer those questions just as well as I can. You know what Mascola's game is. He thinks he's going to put me out of business. He's trying to crowd me off the sea. What do you suppose will become of you if he makes good? How long will you get that six dollars a day with the Lang fleet out of commission? You've been fighting his men for a square deal ever since you came here. And now you're figuring on helping them run you out of your own town."

Blagg noticed that several of the men were falling back and whispering among themselves. Scenting signs of a break among his ranks, he felt it was up to him to say something. Well, he had his trump card yet to play.

"We ain't such fools as you think," he said. "We ain't gone at this thing without considering pretty careful and gettin' good advice. Last night some of us had a meetin' and talked things over. Mr. Rock was there and he give us some mighty good advice. He says to the boys that it was every feller for himself and----"

"Rock's got a mortgage on your house, hasn't he, Joe?"

Blagg flushed beneath his tan.

"I reckon that ain't got nothing to do with it if he has," he challenged. "And you understand I ain't even sayin' he has. But he's a business man."

"And a hypocrite," supplemented d.i.c.kie Lang. "n.o.body knows that any better than I. He lied to me and tried to flim-flam me out of my boats before my dad was buried a week. If I'd fallen for it he would have had me right where he's got you, Joe. But I didn't. And when he found out I was going to stick to you boys, he called me a fool and said no white man could compete against Mascola's men."

As she paused for breath, Gregory saw Tom Howard hobbling through the crowd, speaking in low tones with the fishermen.

"One minute more and I'm through," the girl concluded. "We're up against a hard fight here at Legonia. A fight for Americans to fish their own waters. Sounds foolish, but you know it's the truth. When my father and Mr. Gregory were drowned off Diablo, Mascola thought he had us beaten.

Rock thought so, too. But I'm telling you we're going to fool them both.

There's something wrong around here, boys, when we can't get a fifty-fifty break on our own coast. And we're going to find out what it is."

Seeing that she had the ear of the men at last, she walked closer.

"Listen, boys, I've got a big proposition to offer you. One that will beat Mascola's like an ace beats a deuce. Because this one is on the square."

The fishermen crowded closer while she went on:

"You know what we've been up against here for years to get good help.

You boys have been working short-handed most of the time. Doing more work than it was up to you to do. I've got a plan now to get all the men you want. Good men too. Fellows who have been tried out, red-blooded men. Fighters! I want you men to train them. Show them how to fish. In a little while they'll be doing all the work and I'll pay you four dollars a day straight time with a dollar a day more if you stick through the season. But better than that I'll give you a share in the profits of not only my own business, but the Legonia Fish Cannery as well."

Gregory gulped. It was d.i.c.kie's voice all right. But the words were his own. There was some mistake somewhere. He strove to regain control of his scattered senses as Blagg burst out: