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第12节

the riverman-第12节

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demonstration; they said they would。







VII





After the men had been paid off; perhaps a dozen of them hung around 

the yards awaiting evening and the rendezvous named by Orde。  The 

rest drifted away full of good intentions; but did not show up 

again。  Orde himself was busy up to the last moment; but finally 

stamped out of the office just as the boarding…house bell rang for 

supper。  He surveyed what remained of his old crew and grinned。



〃Well; boys; ready for trouble?〃 he greeted them。  〃Come on。〃



They set out up the long reach of Water Street; their steel caulks 

biting deep into the pitted board…walks。



For nearly a mile the street was flanked solely by lumber…yards; 

small mills; and factories。  Then came a strip of unimproved land; 

followed immediately by the wooden; ramshackle structures of Hell's 

Half…Mile。



In the old days every town of any size had its Hell's Half…Mile; or 

the equivalent。  Saginaw boasted of its Catacombs; Muskegon; Alpena; 

Port Huron; Ludington; had their 〃Pens;〃 〃White Rows;〃 〃River 

Streets;〃 〃Kilyubbin;〃 and so forth。  They supported row upon row of 

saloons; alike stuffy and squalid; gambling hells of all sorts; 

refreshment 〃parlours;〃 where drinks were served by dozens of 

〃pretty waiter…girls;〃 and huge dance…halls。



The proprietors of these places were a bold and unscrupulous lot。  

In their everyday business they had to deal with the most dangerous 

rough…and…tumble fighters this country has ever known; with men 

bubbling over with the joy of life; ready for quarrel if quarrel 

also spelled fun; drinking deep; and heavy…handed and fearless in 

their cups。  But each of these rivermen had two or three hundred 

dollars to 〃blow〃 as soon as possible。  The pickings were good。  Men 

got rich very quickly at this business。  And there existed this 

great advantage in favour of the dive…keeper: nobody cared what 

happened to a riverman。  You could pound him over the head with a 

lead pipe; or drug his drink; or choke him to insensibility; or rob 

him and throw him out into the street; or even drop him tidily 

through a trap…door into the river flowing conveniently beneath。  

Nobody botheredunless; of course; the affair was so bungled as to 

become public。  The police knew enough to stay away when the drive 

hit town。  They would have been annihilated if they had not。  The 

only fly in the divekeeper's ointment was that the riverman would 

fight back。



And fight back he did; until from one end of his street to the other 

he had left the battered evidences of his skill as a warrior。  His 

constant heavy lifting made him as hard as nails and as strong as a 

horse; the continual demand on his agility in riding the logs kept 

him active and prevented him from becoming muscle…bound; in his wild 

heart was not the least trace of fear of anything that walked; 

crawled; or flew。  And he was as tireless as machinery; and 

apparently as indifferent to punishment as a man cast in iron。



Add to this a happy and complete disregard of consequencesto 

himself or othersof anything he did; and; in his own words; he was 

a 〃hard man to nick。〃



As yet the season was too early for much joy along Hell's Half…Mile。  

Orde's little crew; and the forty or fifty men of the drive that had 

preceded him; constituted the rank and file at that moment in town。  

A little later; when all the drives on the river should be in; and 

those of its tributaries; and the men still lingering at the woods 

camps; at least five hundred woods…weary men would be turned loose。  

Then Hell's Half…Mile would awaken in earnest from its hibernation。  

The lights would blaze from day to day。  From its opened windows 

would blare the music; the cries of men and women; the shuffle of 

feet; the noise of fighting; the shrieks of wild laughter; curses 

deep and frank and unashamed; songs broken and interrupted。  Crews 

of men; arms locked; would surge up and down the narrow sidewalks; 

their little felt hats cocked one side; their heads back; their 

fearless eyes challenging the devil and all his worksand getting 

the challenge accepted。  Girls would flit across the lit windows 

like shadows before flames; or stand in the doorways hailing the men 

jovially by name。  And every few moments; above the roar of this 

wild inferno; would sound the sudden crash and the dull blows of 

combat。  Only; never was heard the bark of the pistol。  The fighting 

was fierce; and it included kicking with the sharp steel boot…

caulks; biting and gouging; but it barred knives and firearms。  And 

when Hell's Half…Mile was thus in full eruption; the citizens of 

Redding stayed away from Water Street after dark。  〃Drive's in;〃 

said they; and had business elsewhere。  And the next group of 

rivermen; hurrying toward the fun; broke into an eager dog…trot。  

〃Taking the old town apart to…night;〃 they told each other。  〃Let's 

get in the game。〃



To…night; however; the street was comparatively quiet。  The saloons 

were of modified illumination。  In many of them men stood drinking; 

but in a sociable rather than a hilarious mood。  Old friends of the 

two drives were getting together for a friendly glass。  The 

barkeepers were listlessly wiping the bars。  The 〃pretty waiter…

girls〃 gossiped with each other and yawned behind their hands。  From 

several doorways Orde's little compact group was accosted by the 

burly saloonkeepers。



〃Hullo; boys!〃 said they invariably; 〃glad to see you back。  Come in 

and have a drink on me。〃



Well these men knew that one free drink would mean a dozen paid for。  

But the rivermen merely shook their heads。



〃Huh!〃 sneered one of the girls。  〃Them's no river…jacks!  Them's 

just off the hay trail; I bet!〃



But even this time…honoured and generally effective taunt was 

ignored。



In the middle of the third block Orde wheeled sharp to the left down 

a dark and dangerous…looking alley。  Another turn to the right 

brought him into a very narrow street。  Facing this street stood a 

three…story wooden structure; into which led a high…arched entrance 

up a broad half…flight of wooden steps。  This was McNeill's。



As Orde and his men turned into the narrow street; a figure detached 

itself from the shadow and approached。  Orde uttered an exclamation。



〃You here; Newmark?〃 he cried。



〃Yes;〃 replied that young man。  〃I want to see this through。〃



〃With those clothes?〃 marvelled Orde。  〃It's a wonder some of these 

thugs haven't held you up long ago! I'll get Johnny here to go back 

with you to the main street。〃



〃No;〃 argued Newmark; 〃I want to go in with you。〃



〃It's dangerous;〃 explained Orde。  〃You're likely to get slugged。〃



〃I can stand it if you can;〃 returned Newmark。



〃I doubt it;〃 said Orde grimly。  〃However; it's your funeral。  Come 

on; if you want to。〃



McNeill's lower story was given over entirely to drinking。  A bar 

ran down all one side of the room。  Dozens of little tables occupied 

the floor。  〃Pretty waiter…girls〃 were prepared to serve drinks at 

these latterand to share in them; at a commission。  The second 

floor was a theatre; and the third a dance…hall。  Beneath the 

building were still viler depths。  From this basement the riverman 

and the shanty boy generally graduated penniless; and perhaps 

unconscious; to the street。  Now; your lumber…jack did not 

customarily arrive at this stage without more or less lively doings 

en route; therefore McNeill's maintained a force of fighters。  They 

were burly; sodden men; in striking contrast to the clean…cut; 

clear…eyed rivermen; but strong in their experience and their 

discipline。  To be sure; they might not last quite as long as their 

antagonists coulda whisky training is not conducive to long wind

but they always lasted plenty long enough。  Sand…bags and brass 

knuckles helped some; ruthless singleness of purpose counted; and 

team work finished the job。  At times the storm rose high; but up to 

now McNeill had always ridden it。



Orde and his men entered the lower hall; as though sauntering in 

without definite aim。  Perhaps a score of men were in the room。  Two 

tables of cards were under waywith a great deal of noisy card…

slapping that proclaimed the game merely friendly。  Eight or ten 

other men wandered about idly; chaffing loudly with the girls; 

pausing to overlook the card games; glancing with purposeless 

curiosity at the professional gamblers sitting quietly behind their 

various lay…outs。  It was a dull evening。



Orde wandered about with the rest; a wide; good…natured smile on his 

face。



〃Start your little ball to rolling for that;〃 he instructed the 

roulette man; tossing down a bill。  〃Dropped again!〃 he lamented 

humorously。  〃Can't seem to have any luck。〃



He drifted on to the crap game。



〃Throw us the little bones; pardner;〃 he said。  〃I'll go you a five 

on i

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