El Diablo Part 22

"You're figurin' to start somethin' you can't finish, ain't you? You ain't bought the cannery already, have you?"

"Don't you worry about that, Blagg. I know what I'm talking about. Mr.

Gregory and I are partners on this deal."

Blagg was taken back by the girl's announcement. Almost as much so as Gregory himself.

"Suppose there ain't no profits?" put in another fisherman.

"That's your lookout as well as mine." Again the girl took Gregory's words and went on: "But there will be. I'm going to get a bunch of ex-navy men down here that mean business. They won't let Mascola, Rock or anybody else bluff them off the sea. All they want is a chance to learn the game. You boys can teach it to them right."

Blagg stepped back and began to whisper to the men about him. The other fishermen looked at one another and listened for Bill Lang's girl to go on:

"You fellows all know the advantage it gives you to have enough boats and men. If you break down and get into any trouble, it's pretty good to have somebody standing by to give you a hand. And you know that Mascola knows how to make trouble."

Turning to the older men, some of whom had already begun to feel their joints stiffening with rheumatism, she said: "Fis.h.i.+ng's a hard game, boys, for the best of us. And it doesn't get any easier as we get older.

There's a lot of you who will have to go into dry-dock before long and get patched up. And there's some that can't afford to lay up. You've been working with your hands too long. You've got to ease up and use your brains. That's what I want to hire now. These young fellows are eager to help you. It will be up to you to show them what to do."

Could this be the girl who had angrily announced that she intended to run her business in her own way? Gregory could only stare at d.i.c.kie Lang. So far, she had not even included him as being a partner to the idea, save by her pledge of the profits of his cannery. Surely she would explain her sudden change of heart. Listening intently, he heard her conclude:

"Think it over, boys. It's a chance that may never come again. If there are any questions you'd like to ask, shoot."

Blagg noted that her words were having a marked effect upon the silent fishermen. Seeking to stem the tide of the reaction which he felt was setting in against him, he began to make objections.

d.i.c.kie Lang met his arguments with painstaking explanations and the objections gradually became fewer, simmering down into more or less intelligent questions. Gregory noticed that the fishermen began to retire and cl.u.s.tered together in little groups while they talked earnestly among themselves. Still there came no explanation from the girl. She was championing his ideas as if they had been her own cherished plans.

At length the various knots of men drew further apart and faced each other in two well-marked divisions. To the left stood Joe Blagg, about him cl.u.s.tering the younger and more radical element of the fis.h.i.+ng colony. On the right the property-owners and heads of families for the most part, drew closer to Big Jack Stuss, their acknowledged leader.

d.i.c.kie Lang regarded the two factions carefully, striving to count their ranks. Each was about evenly divided, she figured, with Big Jack's const.i.tuency slightly in the lead.

Blagg stepped forward and began to speak: "It's six straight for me and mine," he said. "Them's our terms. The boys can't see your new-fangled proposition at all."

"It's up to you," the girl replied coolly. "If that's the way you feel, you can get your money. But before you do, I'd advise you to talk it over at home. Don't forget that I'm fighting for you--not against you.

It might be pretty nice to remember some time that you tried to help yourselves. Think it over before you get your checks."

As she finished speaking, Big Jack got slowly under way. Elbowing a path through the crowd he shuffled closer, hitching at the straining suspender to which was entrusted the task of holding in place his two pairs of baggy canvas trousers. s.h.i.+fting from one bowed knee to the other, he contemplated his great bare toes in silence while he drew in a deep breath which filled his huge lungs to the bursting point and caused the muscles of his neck to stand out in purpled knots.

d.i.c.kie waited, knowing full well that it was Big Jack's invariable preface for speech. When the big fisherman had secured enough compression to proceed, he boomed forth in a fog-horn voice:

"Me and my fellers has decided to stick. Youse fellers can count on us if you shoot square. We's willin' to take a chanct."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Me and my fellers has decided to stick"]

His sentences were interpolated with great gusts of surplus breath. As he finished speaking he lumbered away to rejoin his companions.

"That's the stuff, boys. It's the way I like to hear men talk. It shows you've got the sand. Take it from me, you'll never be sorry you stuck."

She walked forward and pa.s.sed familiarly among them while the Blagg faction melted slowly away and straggled down the dock in the direction of the town.

Gregory stood with McCoy while the excitement quieted down and d.i.c.kie despatched the fis.h.i.+ng-boats on their accustomed morning cruise.

"Well, I'll say you've done wonders," McCoy was saying. "Who would ever have thought that d.i.c.k would have given in?"

Gregory nodded weakly. "I was rather surprised myself," he admitted.

McCoy looked at his watch. "I must go," he said. "It's almost time to blow the whistle. Coming up soon?"

Gregory promised to be on hand as soon as he got his breakfast and McCoy hurried off. When the last of her remaining men had left the dock, Gregory noticed the girl coming toward him. Now he would learn the reason for her sudden change of mind. He listened eagerly for the explanation.

d.i.c.kie Lang pa.s.sed a slim brown hand slowly over her forehead and replaced a tousled lock of red-brown hair.

"Now," she said calmly, "when can you get me my men?"

CHAPTER XIV

THE MOTHER OF INVENTION

Everything was coming his way. Kenneth Gregory glanced again at his first balance-sheet. The cannery had been in operation but a single month and already the business was exceeding his fondest expectations.

He glanced at the chart which hung by his side. Forty-two completely equipped fis.h.i.+ng-boats in the water and every one fully manned. He smiled as he thought of d.i.c.kie Lang's astonishment at the manner in which the ex-navy men had taken hold of the work.

His smile broadened too as he noted the receipts from the fresh fish and the canned product. Fis.h.i.+ng had sure been good. And there had been little or no interference from Mascola. Since the day when d.i.c.kie had accepted his proposition all had gone smoothly. Gregory attributed his success to the carrying out of an idea. It had worked. It had to work.

And it was _his_ idea.

On the floor of the cannery, d.i.c.kie Lang was also a.n.a.lyzing the phenomenal success of the Legonia Fish Cannery while she waited for the owner to accompany her on their daily cruise to the fis.h.i.+ng grounds.

"I'll tell you, Jack, it gets my goat how things began to pick up the very minute I threw up my contract. He's had nothing but luck ever since."

"I wouldn't say that, d.i.c.k," McCoy objected. "The boss's idea was worth something. Of course I----"

"Oh, rats! I'm sick of hearing everybody talking about an idea. All these fellows in here think that Kenneth Gregory can't make a mistake.

They think that n.o.body else could have done what he did."

"That's what you want fellows to think who are working for you, isn't it?" ventured McCoy.

d.i.c.kie gasped. Had McCoy too fallen a victim to hero-wors.h.i.+p? McCoy, who had been her loyal friend, and servant? She determined to find out to what extent he had transferred his allegiance.

"Do you think Mr. Gregory did any more than I could have done?" she flashed.

McCoy endeavored to temporize. "Well, in a way he didn't," he said, "and then again he did. You see----"

But d.i.c.kie refused to see. Whirling angrily, she walked rapidly toward the office. Anything to get away from hearing Gregory's praises chanted from every lip. Better be with the idol himself than his devout followers. She flung open the door and entered the office. Gregory faced her with a smile. A self-satisfied smile, the girl thought. In his hand was a paper.

"Look at that," he exclaimed. "My idea has worked out a lot better than I antic.i.p.ated."

d.i.c.kie glanced coldly at the sheet but made no effort to take it from his hand. Looking him full in the eye, she observed: