The Cruise of the Dazzler E-Book

Jack London

• Herausgeber: ShadowPOET
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

They ran across the shining sand, the Pacific thundering its long surge at their backs, and when they gained the roadway leaped upon bicycles and dived at faster pace into the green avenues of the park. There were three of them, three boys, in as many bright-colored sweaters, and they "scorched" along the cycle-path as dangerously near the speed-limit as is the custom of boys in bright-colored sweaters to go. They may have exceeded the speed-limit. A mounted park policeman thought so, but was not sure, and contented himself with cautioning them as they flashed by.

Leseprobe

TheCruiseoftheDazzler

ByJackLondon

THECRUISEOFTHEDAZZLER

PART ICHAPTERI

BROTHERANDSISTER

They ran across the shining sand, the Pacific thundering its long surge at theirbacks, and when they gained the roadway leaped upon bicycles and dived atfaster pace into the green avenues of the park. There were three of them, threeboys,inasmanybright-coloredsweaters,andthey"scorched"alongthecycle-path as dangerously near the speed-limit as is the custom of boys in bright-colored sweaters to go. They may have exceeded the speed-limit. A mountedpark policeman thought so, but was not sure, and contented himself withcautioningthemastheyflashedby.Theyacknowledgedthewarningpromptly,andonthenextturnofthepathaspromptlyforgotit,whichisalsoacustomofboysinbright-coloredsweaters.

ShootingoutthroughtheentrancetoGoldenGatePark,theyturnedintoSan

Francisco,andtookthelongsweepofthedescendinghillsataratethatcausedpedestrians to turn and watch them anxiously. Through the city streets thebright sweaters flew, turning and twisting to escape climbing the steeper hills,and, when the steep hills were unavoidable, doing stunts to see which wouldfirstgainthetop.

The boy who more often hit up the pace, led the scorching, and instituted thestunts was called Joe by his companions. It was "follow the leader," and heled,themerriestandboldestinthebunch.ButastheypedaledintotheWestern Addition, among the large and comfortable residences, his laughterbecame less loud and frequent, and he unconsciously lagged in the rear. AtLagunaandVallejostreetshiscompanionsturnedofftotheright.

"Solong,Fred,"hecalledasheturnedhiswheeltotheleft."Solong,Charley."

"Seeyouto-night!"theycalledback."No—I can't come," he answered."Aw,comeon,"theybegged.

"No,I'vegottodig.—Solong!"

As he went on alone, his face grew grave and a vague worry came into hiseyes. He began resolutely to whistle, but this dwindled away till it was a thinand very subdued little sound, which ceased altogether as he rode up thedrivewaytoalargetwo-storiedhouse.

"Oh,Joe!"

Hehesitatedbeforethedoortothelibrary.Bessiewasthere,heknew,studiously working up her lessons. She must be nearly through with them, too,for she was always done before dinner, and dinner could not be many minutesaway. As for his lessons, they were as yet untouched. The thought made himangry.Itwasbadenoughtohaveone'ssister—andtwoyearsyoungeratthat—inthesamegrade,buttohavehercontinuallyheadandshouldersabovehiminscholarshipwasamostintolerablething.Notthathewasdull.Nooneknewbetter than himself that he was not dull. But somehow—he did not quite knowhow—hismindwasonotherthingsandhewasusuallyunprepared.

"Joe—pleasecomehere."Therewastheslightestpossibleplaintivenoteinhervoicethistime.

"Well?"hesaid,thrustingasidetheportièrewithanimpetuousmovement.

He said it gruffly, but he was half sorry for it the next instant when he saw aslender little girl regarding him with wistful eyes across the big reading-tableheapedwithbooks.Shewascurledup,withpencilandpad,inaneasy-chairofsuchgenerousdimensionsthatitmadeherseemmoredelicateandfragilethan

shereallywas.

"Whatisit,Sis?"heaskedmoregently,crossingovertoherside.

Shetookhishandinhersandpresseditagainsthercheek,andashestoodbesidehercameclosertohimwithanestlingmovement.

"Whatisthematter,Joedear?"sheaskedsoftly."Won'tyoutellme?"

Heremainedsilent.Itstruckhimasridiculoustoconfesshistroublestoalittlesister, even if her reports were higher than his. And the little sister struck himas ridiculous to demand his troubles of him. "What a soft cheek she has!" hethought as she pressed her face gently against his hand. If he could but tearhimself away—it was all so foolish! Only he might hurt her feelings, and, inhisexperience,girls'feelingswereveryeasilyhurt.

She opened his fingers and kissed the palm of his hand. It was like a rose-leaffalling;itwasalsoherwayofaskingherquestionoveragain.

"Nothing 's the matter," he said decisively. And then, quite inconsistently, heblurtedout,"Father!"

His worry was now in her eyes. "But father is so good and kind, Joe," shebegan. "Why don't you try to please him? He does n't ask much of you, and it's all for your own good. It 's not as though you were a fool, like some boys. Ifyouwouldonlystudyalittlebit—"

"That'sit!Lecturing!"heexploded,tearinghishandroughlyaway."Evenyouarebeginningtolecturemenow.Isupposethecookandthestable-boywillbeatitnext."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked forward into a melancholyanddesolatefuturefilledwithinterminablelecturesandlecturersinnumerable.

"Wasthatwhatyouwantedmefor?"hedemanded,turningtogo.

She caught at his hand again. "No, it wasn't; only you looked so worried that Ithought—I—" Her voice broke, and she began again freshly. "What I wantedto tell you was that we're planning a trip across the bay to Oakland, nextSaturday,foratrampinthehills."

"Who 's going?""MyrtleHayes—"

"What!Thatlittlesofty?"heinterrupted.

"Idon'tthinksheisasofty,"Bessieansweredwithspirit."She'soneofthesweetestgirlsIknow."

"Whichisn'tsayingmuch,consideringthegirlsyouknow.Butgoon.Whoaretheothers?"

"PearlSayther,and hersisterAlice, andJessieHilborn, and SadieFrench, and

EdnaCrothers.That'sallthegirls."

Joesniffeddisdainfully."Whoarethefellows,then?"

"MauriceandFelixClement,DickSchofield,BurtLayton,and—""That'senough.Milk-and-waterchaps,allofthem."

"I—IwantedtoaskyouandFredandCharley,"shesaidinaquaveringvoice."That'swhatIcalledyouinfor—toaskyoutocome."

"Andwhatareyougoingtodo?"heasked.

"Walk,gatherwildflowers,—thepoppiesarealloutnow,—eatluncheonatsomeniceplace,and—and—"

"Comehome,"hefinishedforher.

Bessie nodded her head. Joe put his hands in his pockets again, and walked upanddown.

"A sissy outfit, that 's what it is," he said abruptly; "and a sissy program. Noneofitinmine,please."

She tightened her trembling lips and struggled on bravely. "What would youratherdo?"sheasked.

"I 'd sooner take Fred and Charley and go off somewhere and do something—well,anything."

Hepausedandlookedather.Shewaswaitingpatientlyforhimtoproceed.Hewas aware of his inability to express in words what he felt and wanted, and allhistroubleandgeneraldissatisfactionroseupandgrippedholdofhim.

"Oh,youcan'tunderstand!"heburstout."Youcan'tunderstand.You'reagirl.You like to be prim and neat, and to be good in deportment and ahead in yourstudies. You don't care for danger and adventure and such things, and youdon't care for boys who are rough, and have life and go in them, and all that.You like good little boys in white collars, with clothes always clean and hairalways combed, who like to stay in at recess and be petted by the teacher andtold how they're always up in their studies; nice little boys who never get intoscrapes—who are too busy walking around and picking flowers and eatinglunches with girls, to get into scrapes. Oh, I know the kind—afraid of theirown shadows, and no more spunk in them than in so many sheep. That 's whatthey are—sheep. Well, I 'm not a sheep, and there 's no more to be said. And Idon'twanttogoonyourpicnic,and,what'smore,I'mnotgoing."

The tears welled up in Bessie's brown eyes, and her lips were trembling. Thisangeredhimunreasonably.Whatweregirlsgoodfor,anyway?—alwaysblubbering,andinterfering,andcarryingon.Therewasnosenseinthem.

"Afellowcan'tsayanythingwithoutmakingyoucry,"hebegan,tryingto

appeaseher."Why,Ididn'tmeananything,Sis.Ididn't,sure.I—"

He paused helplessly and looked down at her. She was sobbing, and at thesame time shaking with the effort to control her sobs, while big tears wererollingdownhercheeks.

"Oh,you—yougirls!"hecried,andstrodewrathfullyoutoftheroom.

CHAPTERII

"THEDRACONIANREFORMS"

A few minutes later, and still wrathful, Joe went in to dinner. He ate silently,thoughhisfatherandmotherandBessiekeptupagenialflowofconversation.There she was, he communed savagely with his plate, crying one minute, andthe next all smiles and laughter. Now that was n't his way. If he had anythingsufficiently important to cry about, rest assured he would n't get over it fordays. Girls were hypocrites, that was all there was to it. They did n't feel onehundredthpartofallthattheysaidwhentheycried.Itstoodtoreasonthattheydid n't. It must be that they just carried on because they enjoyed it. It madethemfeelgoodtomakeotherpeoplemiserable,especiallyboys.Thatwaswhytheywerealwaysinterfering.

Thus reflecting sagely, he kept his eyes on his plate and did justice to the fare;for one cannot scorch from the Cliff House to the Western Addition via theparkwithoutbeingguiltyofahealthyappetite.

Now and then his father directed a glance at him in a certain mildly anxiousway. Joe did not see these glances, but Bessie saw them, every one. Mr.Bronson was a middle-aged man, well developed and of heavy build, thoughnot fat. His was a rugged face, square-jawed and stern-featured, though hiseyeswerekindlyandtherewerelinesaboutthemouththatbetokenedlaughterrather than severity. A close examination was not required to discover theresemblance between him and Joe. The same broad forehead and strong jawcharacterized them both, and the eyes, taking into consideration the differenceofage,wereaslikeaspeasfromonepod.

"How are you getting on, Joe?" Mr. Bronson asked finally. Dinner was overandtheywereabouttoleavethetable.

"Oh,Idon'tknow,"Joeansweredcarelessly,andthenadded:"Wehaveexaminationsto-morrow.I'llknowthen."

"Whither bound?" his mother questioned, as he turned to leave the room. Shewas a slender, willowy woman, whose brown eyes Bessie's were, and likewisehertenderways.

"Tomyroom,"Joeanswered."Towork,"hesupplemented.

She rumpled his hair affectionately, and bent and kissed him. Mr. Bronsonsmiledapprovalathimashewentout,andhehurriedupthestairs,resolvedtodighardandpasstheexaminationsofthecomingday.

Enteringhisroom,helockedthedoorandsatdownatadeskmostcomfortably arranged for a boy's study. He ran his eye over his text-books.The history examination came the first thing in the morning, so he wouldbegin on that. He opened the book where a page was turned down, and begantoread:

Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war broke out between Athens andMegararespectingtheislandofSalamis,towhichbothcitieslaidclaim.

That was easy; but what were the Draconian reforms? He must look them up.Hefeltquitestudiousasheranoverthebackpages,tillhechancedtoraisehiseyes above the top of the book and saw on a chair a baseball mask and acatcher's glove. They should n't have lost that game last Saturday, he thought,and they would n't have, either, if it had n't been for Fred. He wished Fredwould n't fumble so. He could hold a hundred difficult balls in succession, butwhen a critical point came, he 'd let go of even a dewdrop. He 'd have to sendhim out in the field and bring in Jones to first base. Only Jones was soexcitable. He could hold any kind of a ball, no matter how critical the playwas,buttherewasnotellingwhathewoulddowiththeballafterhegotit.

Joe came to himself with a start. A pretty way of studying history! He buriedhisheadinhisbookandbegan:

ShortlyaftertheDraconianreforms—

He read the sentence through three times, and then recollected that he had notlookeduptheDraconianreforms.

A knock came at the door. He turned the pages over with a noisy flutter, butmadenoanswer.

Theknockwasrepeated,andBessie's"Joe,dear"cametohisears.

"What do you want?" he demanded. But before she could answer he hurriedon:"Noadmittance.I'mbusy."

"IcametoseeifIcouldhelpyou,"shepleaded."I'malldone,andIthought

—"

"Ofcourseyou'realldone!"heshouted."Youalwaysare!"

He held his head in both his hands to keep his eyes on the book. But thebaseball mask bothered him. The more he attempted to keep his mind on thehistory the more in his mind's eye he saw the mask resting on the chair and allthegamesinwhichithadplayeditspart.

This would never do. He deliberately placed the book face downward on thedesk and walked over to the chair. With a swift sweep he sent both mask andglove hurtling under the bed, and so violently that he heard the mask reboundfromthewall.

Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war broke out between Athens andMegara—

The mask had rolled back from the wall. He wondered if it had rolled back farenough for him to see it. No, he would n't look. What did it matter if it hadrolledout?Thatwasn'thistory.Hewondered—

Hepeeredoverthetopofthebook,andtherewasthemaskpeepingoutathimfrom under the edge of the bed. This was not to be borne. There was no useattempting to study while that mask was around. He went over and fished itout, crossed the room to the closet, and tossed it inside, then locked the door.Thatwassettled,thankgoodness!Nowhecoulddosomework.

Hesatdownagain.

Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war broke out between Athens andMegararespectingtheislandofSalamis,towhich,bothcitieslaidclaim.

Which was all very well, if he had only found out what the Draconian reformswere. A soft glow pervaded the room, and he suddenly became aware of it.What could cause it? He looked out of the window. The setting sun wasslanting its long rays against low-hanging masses of summer clouds, turningthem to warm scarlet and rosy red; and it was from them that the red light,mellowandglowing,wasflungearthward.

His gaze dropped from the clouds to the bay beneath. The sea-breeze wasdying down with the day, and off Fort Point a fishing-boat was creeping intoport before the last light breeze. A little beyond, a tug was sending up atwisted pillar of smoke as it towed a three-masted schooner to sea. His eyeswandered over toward the Marin County shore. The line where land and watermet was already in darkness, and long shadows were creeping up the hillstoward Mount Tamalpais, which was sharply silhouetted against the westernsky.

Oh, if he, Joe Bronson, were only on that fishing-boat and sailing in with adeep-sea catch! Or if he were on that schooner, heading out into the sunset,into the world! That was life, that was living, doing something and beingsomething in the world. And, instead, here he was, pent up in a close room,racking his brains about people dead and gone thousands of years before hewasborn.

He jerked himself away from the window as though held there by somephysicalforce,andresolutelycarriedhischairandhistoryintothefarthest

corneroftheroom,wherehesatdownwithhisbacktothewindow.

An instant later, so it seemed to him, he found himself again staring out of thewindow and dreaming. How he had got there he did not know. His lastrecollection was the finding of a subheading on a page on the right-hand sideof the book which read: "The Laws and Constitution of Draco." And then,evidently like walking in one's sleep, he had come to the window. How longhad he been there? he wondered. The fishing-boat which he had seen off FortPoint was now crawling into Meiggs's Wharf. This denoted nearly an hour'slapse of time. The sun had long since set; a solemn grayness was broodingoverthewater,andthefirstfaintstarswerebeginningtotwinkleoverthecrestofMountTamalpais.

He turned, with a sigh, to go back into his corner, when a long whistle, shrilland piercing, came to his ears. That was Fred. He sighed again. The whistlerepeated itself. Then another whistle joined it. That was Charley. They werewaitingonthecorner—luckyfellows!

Well, they would n't see him this night. Both whistles arose in duet. Hewrithed in his chair and groaned. No, they would n't see him this night, hereiterated, at the same time rising to his feet. It was certainly impossible forhim to join them when he had not yet learned about the Draconian reforms.The same force which had held him to the window now seemed drawing himacross the room to the desk. It made him put the history on top of his school-books, and he had the door unlocked and was half-way into the hall before herealized it. He started to return, but the thought came to him that he could gooutforalittlewhileandthencomebackanddohiswork.