George was about the most all-round helpless man I had ever met.
Among his other disabilities, he was a consumptive, and I knew that
if he attempted to bail, it might bring on a hemorrhage. Yet the
rising water warned me that something must be done. Again I
ordered the shrimp-catchers to lend a hand with the buckets. They
laughed defiantly, and those inside the cabin, the water up to
their ankles, shouted back and forth with those on top.
"You'd better get out your gun and make them bail," I said to
George.
But he shook his head and showed all too plainly that he was
afraid. The Chinese could see the funk he was in as well as I
could, and their insolence became insufferable. Those in the cabin
broke into the food lockers, and those above scrambled down and
joined them in a feast on our crackers and canned goods.
"What do we care?" George said weakly.
I was fuming with helpless anger. "If they get out of hand, it
will be too late to care. The best thing you can do is to get them
in check right now.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25