The Heart of the Red Firs: A Story of the Pacific NorthwestAnderson, Ada Woodruff
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The Heart of the Red Firs: A Story of the Pacific Northwest
Anderson, Ada Woodruff
Northwest, Pacific -- Fiction
Sing smiled blandly and tucked his long yellow finders into his wide
sleeves. "_Phlantom_, she all lit-e," he admitted. "Mlisser Phil, he
all lit-e."
The yacht swung into the shadow of the Head; the lightening cable
between the ship and tug crossed her bows. The steamer with increased
belching of smoke and pounding of machinery forged away and the vessel
slowly answered the straining line. Mason leaned forward with a low
exclamation; then, no longer able to hold himself, he lifted his voice
in a hoarse shout. "Luff, luff ’er."
Even as he spoke the _Phantom_ veered suddenly, and came around
close-hauled, all but grazing the stern of the ship. And Mason saw the
master at the helm, his cap pushed back, his eyes on the flapping
canvas, while his lips coolly shaped the end of a chorus. A woman,
young and pretty, with a cloud of blond hair, was seated near him,
strumming time on a banjo, and, as Mason moved to take the line, she
looked up at him with a gay laugh.
Stratton relieved Kingsley of the tiller while he went into the bows
with the coiled line. The old sailor caught it and made a twist around
a pile, hauling taut. "It wore neatly done," he said with the pride
glowing in his homely face; "ay, sir, but it wore a close call, sir."
Philip laughed. "Not much of a trick if you know the _Phantom_, Mason.
No, I’m not coming ashore. Here, give these packages to Mr. Forrest.
Tell him I’m taking a run over to Tacoma. Will look in at the camp
about those logs. That’s all. Cast off."
Mason watched the _Phantom_ swing out, then went up the wharf to the
store. It was a long, low building with few windows and a massive door.
The interior was gloomy, musty; sacks of flour piled in great lines
partitioned the room; hams and bacon hung from the ceiling. At one side
of the entrance the office was separated from the main floor by a
latticed railing, and gave the manager an opportunity to work at his
desk, and at the same time see those who entered. The window at his
elbow overlooked the dock and informed him if an arriving vessel
demanded his attention there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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