Reap the Wild Wind Page #7

saving you for myself.

[Romulus barks]

THUG 1:
Let me go! THUG 2: Get him!

STEVE:
Watch that fellow with the club.

[Romulus barking]

[Men grunting]

- Why don't you shoot? - I can't.

I'm scared of hitting one of our men.

- Quit shoving.

- Quit missing.

Don't get up or I'll empty

this pepperbox in you.

[Loxi screams]

[Phil grunts]

Blistering blazes.

- Capt. Phil, are you all right?

- Yes, I'm all right.

PHIL:
Only I want my legs two

inches longer. LOXI: No, you don't.

WIDGEON:
Drop that,

and get your hands up.

How can I get my hands

up, you walleyed...

Come out of there, consarn you!

WIDGEON:
Get your hands

up! Over against the mast.

WIDGEON:
Come on, you

crabs! Make them fast.

You're going, too, bright

eyes. You've seen too much.

I hope this cures you

of traipsing around.

You've been pulling strings

all your life, Mr. Lawyer.

Why don't you pull one now?

STEVE:
I might net myself a lot of

trouble. WIDGEON: Shut your clam traps.

You boys will like whaling...

if you can stand the stink.

THUG 3:
Look out!

[Gun fires]

[All shouting]

[Dramatic instrumental music]

PHIL:
Hold the net down!

[All shouting]

Jack, behind you, look!

Steve, look!

Steve, do something!

[Dramatic instrumental music continues]

[The Lamb grunting]

[Romulus whining]

[Cheerful instrumental music]

- Thanks.

- You're welcome.

Roll out of there now.

Keep your noses to the deck.

Pass a line around

this octopus, will you?

You don't like Lamb, do you?

Neither do I.

- Does it hurt?

- Yes.

You make a lovely good Samaritan.

Didn't you scare yourself

fighting like that?

Your sailor boy brought

you to a right lively party.

- Yeah? Well...

- Now.

Wildcats could sure take

fighting lessons from you, Jack.

- Sorry Widgeon got away.

- So am I.

Widgeon being here with Cutler's men...

should prove to your Charleston stiff

necks that Jack didn't wreck the Jubilee.

I'm one stiff neck it satisfies.

WHALER 1:
Ahoy, Widgeon!

Who's there?

Whaler Tyfib coming for

the men you promised.

- You can take your...

- Shut up.

All clear!

- Why you cuttle-head...

- Leave it to me, will you?

- You and Loxi get below.

- Come on, Jack.

Come alongside.

WHALER 2:
Hoist oars.

WHALER 1:
Where's

Widgeon? STEVE:
He's drunk.

WHALER 2:
Boat oars.

Cutler promised some able seamen.

STEVE:
We got five. WHALER 1: Five?

- Great day in the morning! Where are they?

- Right there.

Fellow will be glad to know them

sponges finally come in handy.

They'll probably have quite a flavour

before you boys get where you're going.

Pretty, ain't they? Go get them.

Wait a minute. How much?

How much? Cutler said $12 a head.

- $15.

- Hold on. He said $12.

Take them or leave them.

At such prices, they're

scarcely worth the picking.

You're a pirate and a thief, but

it's a deal. Bear a hand there.

[Thug muttering]

You've got to give the

devil his due. He's clever.

Clever enough to want you.

- It's only $55.

- I know it.

Heave them over. Head and scale.

Don't break them oars!

This walrus weighs as much as a tonne.

I sworn to man, his feet's the biggest

things I ever seen without lungs.

Glad I ain't paying for

that one by the pound.

If he gets rough, tap him with this.

WHALER 3:
He's singing to you,

Lumpy. LUMPY:
Singing like a seal.

Heave him over.

[Thudding]

- Jack, that paper has your name on it.

- What?

- What is it?

- I don't know.

Maybe it's a love letter.

You're talking through your crow's nest.

WHALER 4:
He's chewing on

that sponge something awful.

WHALER 3:
He'll be

chewing salt pork tomorrow.

Heave him over.

[Thudding]

Jack, it's your appointment.

The Southern Cross.

- Jack, you're captain.

- That's what it is, all right, but...

WHALER 3:
Stow him in the bow, Lumpy.

No, wait!

- Here's $10 for yourself to remember

us by. - You ain't no pinch gut.

Shove off. Lay into it.

[Muffled muttering]

Don't unloosen them till you're out

to sea. They're a little mite tough.

WHALER 1:
They'll be

tender 'fore they get back.

There, but for the grace of Loxi, go I.

She's a great girl, Philpott.

Steve Tolliver, I think you're the

most contemptible man I ever met.

What's the matter? Did

I sell them too cheap?

Who's gonna command the

Southern Cross, Mr. Tolliver?

Oh.

- How long have you been carrying this?

- Since I left Charleston.

- Well! When were you gonna give it to him?

- When I got ready.

Commodore Devereaux gave you

that appointment to give to Jack.

- Why didn't you give it to him?

- I had my reasons.

And I know what they were,

too. You'd stoop to anything.

- Yes?

- Yes.

[Thudding]

[Romulus whines]

Land of love!

Come on, Loxi.

I'll row you home before

I call on Mr. Cutler.

PHIL:
Yes, sir, these

sponges is wonderful.

Pleasant dreams, my friend.

You've had a busy day.

I'll just take these.

They might blow away.

[Romulus yapping]

Oh, Loxi.

I don't know what happened.

I had to swim most a mile.

You cuttle-headed fool.

Why didn't you drown?

Them two swabs is

horn-fisted, Mr. Cutler.

- Jack Stuart just hove in.

- Stuart?

Out of sight, Widgeon.

Where's Widgeon?

Who? That gooseneck who was

your mate on the Jubilee.

That water didn't rain in here.

State your business, Capt. Stuart.

I was aboard that sponge boat tonight...

when Widgeon brought your

men on that crimping job.

My men?

That's all the proof the government

needs on who sunk the Jubilee.

Well?

No more 50% salvage, Mr. Cutler...

but a room in a penitentiary

where you and your hatchet men...

can be cosy as fiddler

crabs on a marsh bank.

[Men growl threats]

You haven't got enough sand in your

craw to stand in front of me alone.

Clear the room.

You ain't gonna fight

him alone, are you, King?

I said, get out.

HENCHMAN:
They'll find you

on a marsh bank someday.

I didn't think you had it in you.

I've been looking a long time for a

man who's exactly your size of fool.

You'll need some more fools.

Five of your bullyboys have shipped aboard

a whaler for three years in Tolliver's place.

He sold them?

Well, what do you know.

He's got brains, that fellow.

Some of them are loose

in his head right now.

What's the matter? Don't

you like your new boss?

Boss? Tolliver won't

boss the Devereaux line.

I've got command of the Southern

Cross right here in my pocket.

Yes? I've got something

here that says different.

A sloop's just put in with

dispatches from Charleston.

- I pulled this one off the bulletin board.

- I'm not here to chew blubber.

So long as Commodore Devereaux's house

flag is on the sea, I'll answer to him.

Then you'll answer to the grave.

Commodore Devereaux is dead.

KING:
Pour yourself a drink.

- You're lying.

- Read it yourself.

KING:
Steve Tolliver's the new

head of Devereaux and Company.

Tolliver's the man you're sailing

for, if you ever sail again.

KING:
But you won't.

You stood on your last quarterdeck.

But you know that better than I.

Tolliver won't let even a

lobster crate take you aboard.

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