A Man to His Mate   By: J. Allan Dunn (1872-1941)

[Illustration: The sea struck the opposite rail with a roar]

A Man to His Mate

by

J. ALLAN DUNN

AUTHOR OF Jim Morse Adventurer, Turquoise Canyon, Dead Man's Gold, etc.

Illustrated by STOCKTON MULFORD

INDIANAPOLIS THE BOBBS MERRILL COMPANY PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT 1920 THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY

COPYRIGHT 1920 THE BOBBS MERRILL COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America

PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOK MANUFACTURERS BROOKLYN. N. Y.

To J. E. DE RUYTER, ESQUIRE this yarn is affectionately and appreciatively dedicated

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I BLIND SAMSON 1

II A DIVIDED COMPANY 25

III TARGET PRACTISE 47

IV THE BOWHEAD 73

V RAINEY SCORES 82

VI SANDY SPEAKS 96

VII RAINEY MAKES DECISION 117

VIII TAMADA TALKS 132

IX THE POT SIMMERS 151

X THE SHOW DOWN 163

XI HONEST SIMMS 186

XII DEMING BREAKS AN ARM 210

XIII THE RIFLE CARTRIDGES 230

XIV PEGGY SIMMS 241

XV SMOKE 266

XVI THE MIGHT OF NIPPON 277

XVII MY MATE 293

XVIII LUND'S LUCK 332

A Man to His Mate

CHAPTER I

BLIND SAMSON

It was perfect weather along the San Francisco water front, and Rainey reacted to the brisk touch of the trade wind upon his cheek, the breeze tempering the sun, bringing with it a tang of the open sea and a hint of Oriental spices from the wharves. He whistled as he went, watching a lumber coaster outward bound. The dull thump of a heavy cane upon the timbered walk and the shuffle of uncertain feet warned him from blundering into a man tapping his way along the Embarcadero, a giant who halted abruptly and faced him, leaning on the heavy stick.

"Matey," asked the giant, "could you put a blind man in the way of finding the sealin' schooner Karluk ?"

The voice fitted its owner, Rainey thought a basso voice tempered to the occasion, a deep sea voice that could bellow above the roar of a gale if needed. For all his shoregoing clothes and shuffle, the man was certainly a sailor, or had been. All the skin uncovered by cloth or hair was weathered to leather, the great hands curled in as if they clutched an invisible rope. He wore dark glasses with side lenses, over which heavy brows projected in shaggy wisps of red hair.

Blind as the man proclaimed himself with voice and action, Rainey sensed something back of those colored glasses that seemed to be appraising him, almost as if the will of the man was peering, or listening, focused through those listless sockets. A kind of magnetism, not at all attractive, Rainey decided, even as he offered help and information.

"You're not fifty yards from the Karluk ," Rainey replied. "But you're bound in the wrong direction. Let me put you right. I'm going that way myself."

"That's kind of ye, matey," said the other. "But I picked ye for that sort, hearin' you whistlin' as you came swingin' along. Light hearted, I thinks, an' young, most likely; he'll help a stranded man. Give me the touch of yore arm, matey, an' I'll stow this spar of mine."