The lieutenant, in turn, who knew all the “rules and regulations” by heart,
explained that the harbor police were not ferrymen, and that the police-boats had
other functions to perform than that of transporting belated and penniless sailormen
to their ships. He also said he knew the sampan men to be natural-born
robbers, but that so long as they robbed within the law he was powerless. It was
their right to collect fares in advance, and who was he to command them to take a
passenger and collect fare at the journey’s end? Alf acknowledged the justice of
his remarks, but suggested that while he could not command he might persuade.
The lieutenant was willing to oblige, and went to the door, from where he
delivered a speech to the crowd. But they, too, knew their rights, and, when the
officer had finished, shouted in chorus their abominable “Ten sen! You pay now!
You pay now!”
“You see, I can do nothing,” said the lieutenant, who, by the way, spoke perfect
English. “But I have warned them not to harm or molest you, so you will be safe,
at least. The night is warm and half over. Lie down somewhere and to sleep. I
would permit you to sleep here in the office, were it not against the rules and
regulations.”
DUTCH COURAGE AND OTHER STORIES
57
Alf thanked him for his kindness and courtesy; but the sampan men had aroused
all his pride of race and doggedness, and the problem could not be solved that
way. To sleep out the night on the stones was an acknowledgment of defeat.
“The sampan men refuse to take me out?”
The lieutenant nodded.
“And you refuse to take me out?”
Again the lieutenant nodded.
“Well, then, it’s not in the rules and regulations that you can prevent my taking
myself out?”
The lieutenant was perplexed. “There is no boat,” he said.
“That’s not the question,” Alf proclaimed hotly. “If I take myself out, everybody’s
satisfied and no harm done?”
“Yes; what you say is true,” persisted the puzzled lieutenant. “But you cannot take
yourself out.”
“You just watch me,” was the retort.
Down went Alf’s cap on the office floor. Right and left he kicked off his low-cut
shoes. Trousers and shirt followed.
“Remember,” he said in ringing tones, “I, as a citizen of the United States, shall
hold you, the city of Yokohama, and the government of Japan responsible for
those clothes. Good night.”
He plunged through the doorway, scattering the astounded boatmen to either side,
and ran out on the pier. But they quickly recovered and ran after him, shouting
with glee at the new phase the situation had taken on. It was a night long
remembered among the water-folk of Yokohama town. Straight to the end Alf
ran, and, without pause, dived off cleanly and neatly into the water. He struck out
with a lusty, single-overhand stroke till curiosity prompted him to halt for a
moment. Out of the darkness, from where the pier should be, voices were calling
to him.
He turned on his back, floated, and listened.
“All right! All right!” he could distinguish from the babel. “No pay now; pay bime
by! Come back! Come back now; pay bime by!”
DUTCH COURAGE AND OTHER STORIES
58
“No, thank you;” he called back. “No pay at all. Good night.”
Then he faced about in order to locate the Annie Mine. She was fully a mile away,
and in the darkness it was no easy task to get her bearings. First, he settled upon a
blaze of lights which he knew nothing but a man-of-war could make. That must
be the United States war-ship Lancaster. Somewhere to the left and beyond
should be the Annie Mine. But to the left he made out three lights close together.
That could not be the schooner. For the moment he was confused. He rolled over
on his back and shut his eyes, striving to construct a mental picture of the harbor
as he had seen it in daytime. With a snort of satisfaction he rolled back again. The
three lights evidently belonged to the big English tramp steamer. Therefore the
schooner must lie somewhere between the three lights and the Lancaster. He
gazed long and steadily, and there, very dim and low, but at the point he expected,
burned a single light—the anchorlight of the Annie Mine.
And it was a fine swim under the starshine. The air was warm as the water, and
the water as warm as tepid milk. The good salt taste of it was in his mouth, the
tingling of it along his limbs; and the steady beat of his heart, heavy and strong,
made him glad for living.
But beyond being glorious the swim was uneventful. On the right hand he passed
the many-lighted Lancaster, on the left hand the English tramp, and ere long the
Annie Mine loomed large above him. He grasped the hanging rope-ladder and
drew himself noiselessly on deck. There was no one in sight. He saw a light in the
galley, and knew that the captain’s son, who kept the lonely anchorwatch, was
making coffee. Alf went forward to the forecastle. The men were snoring in their
bunks, and in that confined space the heat seemed to him insufferable. So he put
on a thin cotton shirt and a pair of dungaree trousers, tucked blanket and pillow
under his arm, and went up on deck and out on the forecastle- head.
Hardly had he begun to doze when he was roused by a boat coming alongside and
hailing the anchor-watch. It was the police-boat, and to Alf it was given to enjoy
the excited conversation that ensued. Yes, the captain’s son recognized the
clothes. They belonged to Alf Davis, one of the seamen. What had happened? No;
Alf Davis had not come aboard. He was ashore. He was not ashore? Then he must
be drowned. Here both the lieutenant and the captain’s son talked at the same
time, and Alf could make out nothing. Then he heard them come forward and
rouse out the crew. The crew grumbled sleepily and said that Alf Davis was not in
the forecastle; whereupon the captain’s son waxed indignant at the Yokohama
police and their ways, and the lieutenant quoted rules and regulations in
despairing accents.
Alf rose up from the forecastle-head and extended his hand, saying:
“I guess I’ll take those clothes. Thank you for bringing them aboard so promptly.”
DUTCH COURAGE AND OTHER STORIES
59
“I don’t see why he couldn’t have brought you aboard inside of them,” said the
captain’s son.
And the police lieutenant said nothing, though he turned the clothes over
somewhat sheepishly to their rightful owner.
The next day, when Alf started to go ashore, he found himself surrounded by
shouting and gesticulating, though very respectful, sampan men, all
extraordinarily anxious to have him for a passenger. Nor did the one he selected
say, “You pay now,” when he entered his boat. When Alf prepared to step out on
to the pier, he offered the man the customary ten sen. But the man drew himself
up and shook his head.
“You all right,” he said. “You no pay. You never no pay. You bully boy and all
right.”
And for the rest of the Annie Mine’s stay in port, the sampan men refused money
at Alf Davis’s hand. Out of admiration for his pluck and independence, they had
given him the freedom of the harbor.
Whose Business Is To Live
(September 1922)
Stanton Davies and Jim Wemple ceased from their talk to listen to an increase of
uproar in the street. A volley of stones thrummed and boomed the wire mosquito
nettings that protected the windows. It was a hot night, and the sweat of the heat
stood on their faces as they listened. Arose the incoherent clamor of the mob,
punctuated by individual cries in Mexican- Spanish. Least terrible among the
obscene threats were: “Death to the Gringos!” “Kill the American pigs!” “Drown
the American dogs in the sea!”
Stanton Davies and Jim Wemple shrugged their shoulders patiently to each other,
and resumed their conversation, talking louder in order to make themselves heard
above the uproar.
“The question is how,” Wemple said. “It’s forty-seven miles to Panuco, by river—
”
DUTCH COURAGE AND OTHER STORIES
60
“And the land’s impossible, with Zaragoza’s and Villa’s men
on the loot and maybe fraternizing,” Davies agreed.
Wemple nodded and continued: “And she’s at the East Coast
Magnolia, two miles beyond, if she isn’t back at the hunting
camp. We’ve got to get her—”
“We’ve played pretty square in this matter, Wemple,” Davies
said. “And we might as well speak up and acknowledge what
each of us knows the other knows. You want her. I want her.”
Wemple lighted a cigarette and nodded.
“And now’s the time when it’s up to us to make a show as if
we didn’t want her and that all we want is just to save her and