She flushed slightly at the gallantry, liking it. Fox watched her over the rim of his glass as he drank the dark purple wine. Then he excused himself on the pretext of having to see the boatswain. The Salem skipper frowned slightly at his departing back, but said nothing. Then Russell rose. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen ..." Peary left with them.
"Interesting rescue," Bryant said when he and Scott were alone.
Scott nodded and refilled the man's glass. In turn, Bryant drew a couple of long brown cigars from the breast pocket of his jacket and proffered one to Scott, who declined in favor of a pipe.
"Been on the coast long?" Bryant asked when they were smoking.
Scott shook his head. "Anchored yesterday."
"I noticed you were trading. Plenty of pepper available?"
"I really don't know. We've made a deal for some."
"Having any trouble with Pa' Mahmud?"
"You know him?"
"Aye." Bryant took the cigar from his mouth and studied the glowing tip thoughtfully. "I've traded with him before. I haven't seen him since sometime before the war with England, though."
"He slowed down considerably on delivery as soon as your ship appeared offshore," Scott said cautiously. 112
"That's Pa' Mahmud, all right," Bryant said slowly. "What are you paying?"
Scott hesitated. "Eleven dollars a picul. He wanted fifteen, but Fox jewed him down."
The Salem captain puffed on his cigar. "I swear I've seen Fox before. I know I have ... in Salem and on this very coast. I know him by reputation, too. How did you happen to get him?"
Scott told him the story briefly.
"Well, no matter," Bryant said when he had finished. "To go back to the business at hand, I'll tell you that Pa' Mahmud's offered me all the lada in Stallapoo for fourteen dollars a picul."
"Including what he contracted to deliver to me?"
Bryant nodded. "Every berry."
"Why, that son-of-a-bitch!"
Bryant held up his hand. "You've got to expect such on the Pepper Coast, Captain Rogers. I came over to trade information with you, and to tell you that I'll have no part of getting the pepper promised to you. For one thing, I believe we captains must stick together in this part of the world. For another, I know, as should every other man who's been on this coast, that Pa Mahmud is a tukang hohong!' He paused. "Which is to say, he's a natural-born liar. You can't trust him."
For a few moments Scott smoked in silence, digesting what he'd been told. His first impression of the Sally Culhreath’s master was strengthened. Finally he took the pipe from his mouth. "I appreciate your position, sir . . . appreciate it more than I can really say."
Bryant smiled deprecatingly. "Don't misunderstand me, captain; I'm not really noble. There are other considerations besides those already mentioned. Fourteen dollars is three or four dollars too stiff a price, in my opinion. Moreover, I can fill the Sally's hold in the next few weeks without antagonizing you by paying an exorbitant price to get pepper you've made a deal for. I'm rather certain we're the first Salem ship to get here since the war, and I wouldn't be surprised ii your ship and mine aren't the only American vessels on the Pepper Coast today. It'll be smarter for us to work together than to try to outbid each other. We'll have competition enough before long, if I know the Salem merchants—and I do."
"You're on your own?"
"I have a half interest in the ship and the venture."
"What have you told Pa' Mahmud?"
"Nothing ... yet. I haven't seen him. He sent me a message. Of course, he doesn't expect to get fourteen, but he is hoping for twelve or thirteen."
Scott rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Since you haven't said yes or no, I suppose I can expect no pepper in the morning."
"That's about the size of it. But I'm going to lay it on the line to Pa' Mahmud in the morning, and I'll be glad to do it in your company."
"In that case," Scott said, liking the Salem shipmaster's openness, "if you can't get pepper at eleven dollars from Pa' Mahmud, then you can have half of what I get from him at that price."
"That's handsome of you, captain," Bryant said earnestly. "Now what do you say to our working the coast together until we're both laden? I don't mind telling you that two ships are safer than one in these parts. Furthermore, I'm undermanned; there are only thirteen of us, all told."
"Fair enough," Scott agreed. "We can race home."
Bryant held out his hand. "Done, then."
Scott refilled their glasses. "We'll drink on it."
Bryant sipped the port, rolling the wine in his mouth. "From what Miss Russell said, I gathered you had a brush with pirates. Bad?"
Scott told him.
"Good for you!" Bryant exclaimed when he'd finished. "We ought to have an American warship on the coast, you know."
Scott shrugged, drank again, then set his glass down carefully. "Tell me, captain, what do you know about Fox?"
The Salem man chose his words carefully, but without hesitation. "I never sailed with him. But back in Essex County-back home—he's regarded by some as a troublemaker. No captain wants him."
"Sea lawyer?"
"Call it that. He's smart and a good seaman, and he can handle men."
"That much I know."
"They say," Bryant went on, still carefully, "they say he has delusions of grandeur."
"It goes against my grain to damn a man on hearsay."
"I see your point, Captain Rogers, and I respect you for making it. But you asked me, and I told you. From what I've heard, I wouldn't trust him too far; but if he'd been a good officer in my ship, I probably would feel as you do. It could be that he's learned his lesson somewhere along the line. Who knows?"
Now it was Scott's turn to pick his words with care, and he spoke slowly. "It's not hard for a man to earn a hard name in a ship. He protests an injustice, and he's tagged a troublemaker. I've seen it happen. He wants something better than he's got, and sometimes even his mates call him a pipe dreamer. That's happened to me."
The other nodded, his face misunderstanding. "I reckon you've shipped 'fore the mast in your time, too."
"Aye, and under the finest man I ever knew. Thank God, he didn't think I had delusions of grandeur."
Bryant got to his feet. "I'll be getting back to the Sally." He chuckled deep in his throat. "There'll likely be a squall off the land tomorrow. Our agreement on eleven dollars as the top price ain't going to sit well with our dusky friend. He'd like to get the European delivery price without stirring from Sumatra."
15
STALLAPOO stirred when the tree-dwelling lesser creatures of the mist-hung jungle hailed first light with a cacophony of howls, shrieks, grunts and squawks, but nobody met Peary, Hurst and a few other men when they landed near the weighing station shortly after the babel died away in the brilliance of new sunshine. Watching anxiously through the glass from the Caroline, Scott observed that the Malays on the beach were steering clear of the little party of whites. Tucking the telescope under his arm, he next eyed the Sally Culbreath, wishing her skipper would hurry ashore and advise Pa' Mahmud that he was wasting everybody's time by stalling. While he looked, the Salem shipmaster appeared in the waist of his vessel. "'Morning, Captain Rogers!" Bryant bawled cheerily through cupped hands. "Good morning to you, Miss Russell!"
"Mornin'," Scott shouted back, turning in surprise to face Dorcas. "You're up and about early today, ma'am."
She smiled, and he noticed that her teeth were small, white and slightly uneven. This morning she wore no hat and her wavy hair fell in loose ringlets to her shoulders. "I woke up when the boat left the ship, and I simply couldn't get back to sleep. Besides, it's nice and cool at this hour. It must be quite pleasant ashore now."