The scion of the ancient and glorious clan of the Campbells had fallen far indeed. He was grateful for this light respite from the heat of the hole, but his joy faded when the man opened a door and he stood at last before the chief, Douglas Campbell, who looked up at the burly Irishman in a long silence.
“Take him up, Alex,” directed the big fireman, and Harrigan followed one of the men up the narrow ladder and then aft. “The chief wants to see you, boss, before you start swingin’ the shovel.” One of them, larger than the rest and with a bristling, shoebrush mustache like a sign of authority, said to the newcomer: “You’re Harrigan?” The firemen were all glistening with sweat. It was stifling hot, to be sure, but it was twice as large as that of the Mary Rogers. So he was humming a rollicking tune when he reached the fireroom. He’s sick for the love of her, an’ he’s hatin’ the thought of Harrigan.” “There’s times for truth an’ there’s times for lying,” murmured Harrigan, as he stowed away the bucket and brush and started down for the fireroom, “an’ this was one of the times for lyin’. Only the low laughter of the Irishman answered as he made his way down to the deck. Your hand in mine and a promise to be my man will end the war.” “Wait! Remember when you’re in hell that the old compact still holds. I’ve had Henshaw prepare the chief engineer for your coming.” You’re done for, McTee.”Įach one of the short phrases was like a whip flicked across the face of McTee, but he would not wince. “You’ll have both her hate for torturin’ Harrigan her pity for lettin’ the devil in you get the best of the man. “I’d rather have her hate than her pity.” An’ for every day I work in the hole the hate of you will burn blacker into her heart.” You’ve lost her, me boy! For every day that I work in the fireroom I’ll come to her an’ show her the palms of me bleedin’ hands an’ mention your name. “She wouldn’t believe what you said about me if you swore it with both hands on the Bible. “If I went to her and told her how you boasted of having won her?” Can you trust me to lead her that one step? You can!” “Am I that? She pities me, McTee, an’ from pity it’s only one step to something bigger. I thought you were a man you’re only a spineless dog, Harrigan!” “I never dreamed you’d go whining to her. She looks sick at the mention of your name.” I’m poor Harrigan, brave and downtrodden you’re Black McTee once more, the tyrant. Don’t you see? You’ve thrown her with her will or against it into me arms. I could of gone down on me knees an’ begged to do what you’ve done. “For a smart man, McTee, you’ve been a fool. The latter dropped his scrubbing brush into the bucket of suds and stood with arms akimbo studying the captain. “Ah-h, man, it was wonderful! The scrubbing brush an’ the shovel-they mean nothin’ to me now.” “Couldn’t you see her face? It was written there as plain as print.” “Couldn’t you hear her when she talked to me?”
“I’m sorry for you, McTee you’ve made a hard fight it’s strange you’ve got no ghost of a chance of winnin’.”
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