The Call of the Wild: Klondike Cannibals, Vol. 2 by Herbert Ashe Page B
Authors: Herbert Ashe
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vantage point from which to draw his fiction, or sharpen his politics…
He kne w the ten dollars a day Merritt had promised him in all likelihood came from the sum that’d been stolen from him. Put that way, the idea bothered him plenty.
And yet, was he materially worse off?
As long as Merritt fulfilled his end of the bargain, and supplied Jack with an outfit upon their arrival in Dawson, it was entirely possible that he would end up with more money in his pocket than he would’ve under the original plan he’d worked out with Captain Shepard and Eliza. He wouldn’t have to hire coastal Indians to transport his outfit from the ship by canoe to Dyea beach, or hire members of the mountain tribes to help carry their supplies across a mountain pass, or incur any of the incidental costs that they’d been planning and budgeting for, like buying a boat on Lake Bennett for the trip downriver.
Jack did a quick calculation in his head. If it took them a month to sail upriver to Dawson, he would end up with three hundred dollars in hand.
So what if he was being paid with his own money, if it got him to Dawson faster, and left him richer than he would’ve been otherwise?
* * * * *
After they left the secret hold of exotic treasures, Merritt led Jack to the Captain’s quarters at the stern of the Argo .
It was a large and elegant c hamber, with mahogany panelling, like Dr. Fiddler’s cabin, only twice the size. A massive polar bear rug, complete with skull and open-fanged mouth, lay upon the floor between two elegant Turkish divans. Merritt took Jack over to the bookshelf to inspect his library—which he insisted Jack was free to peruse whenever he wished—and to show off the brand-new 1897 Underwood typewriter that Jack would be using to record their journey to Dawson.
Jack looked at the Underwood on the Captain’s desk with awe. He’d never seen such a beautiful machine before. It was so simple, so streamlined, so elegant. He found himself looking forward to beginning his work with an eagerness he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“A pact then , between gentlemen of honour?” Merritt said, running one fingertip along the typewriter’s keys. “As Achilles had Homer, so I shall have you. Our deeds will live forever!”
Jack smiled. “They shall,” he said.
Merritt insisted that they both light a celebratory Cuban cigar, which they did. After a few minutes, Merritt said he had some letters to finish writing before the launch.
So Jack excused himself and left, intending to go find Billy and head out on deck to watch the final preparations on board the ship.
He’d just shut the door to the Captain’s quarters when she surprised him, grabbing and pushing him up against the wall in the darkened hallway.
* * * * *
She bit at his lower lip like an animal as she kissed him.
Instantly he forgot his anger. Forgot the danger he was in. Forgot himself.
Then, too soon, she was gone. Slipping past him into Merritt’s quarters, and closing the door shut behind her.
Jack didn’t know how to feel. His mind was a perfect blend of confusion: all he wanted to do was linger on the taste of her lips, yet part of him still hated her utterly, with a passion. And now, to top it all off, he was very suddenly—insanely—jealous.
It was not an emotion he knew well, and he did not like it.
It was a shame, too, because part of him really liked Merritt, despite himself. Jack stared at the door and listened.
He could hear Sadie talking with Merritt quietly inside the Captain’s quarters, but their voices were muffled.
W hat was her game now? Jack wondered. He clenched his fists suddenly, unable to bear the thought of her kissing Merritt. But why should he care? Was he going to let her trick him again? Was he really that—
Then Jack noticed Billy watching him from the darkness at the end of the hall. He wondered how much the boy had seen.
“Let’s go up and watch the launch,” Jack said.
They walked up
He kne w the ten dollars a day Merritt had promised him in all likelihood came from the sum that’d been stolen from him. Put that way, the idea bothered him plenty.
And yet, was he materially worse off?
As long as Merritt fulfilled his end of the bargain, and supplied Jack with an outfit upon their arrival in Dawson, it was entirely possible that he would end up with more money in his pocket than he would’ve under the original plan he’d worked out with Captain Shepard and Eliza. He wouldn’t have to hire coastal Indians to transport his outfit from the ship by canoe to Dyea beach, or hire members of the mountain tribes to help carry their supplies across a mountain pass, or incur any of the incidental costs that they’d been planning and budgeting for, like buying a boat on Lake Bennett for the trip downriver.
Jack did a quick calculation in his head. If it took them a month to sail upriver to Dawson, he would end up with three hundred dollars in hand.
So what if he was being paid with his own money, if it got him to Dawson faster, and left him richer than he would’ve been otherwise?
* * * * *
After they left the secret hold of exotic treasures, Merritt led Jack to the Captain’s quarters at the stern of the Argo .
It was a large and elegant c hamber, with mahogany panelling, like Dr. Fiddler’s cabin, only twice the size. A massive polar bear rug, complete with skull and open-fanged mouth, lay upon the floor between two elegant Turkish divans. Merritt took Jack over to the bookshelf to inspect his library—which he insisted Jack was free to peruse whenever he wished—and to show off the brand-new 1897 Underwood typewriter that Jack would be using to record their journey to Dawson.
Jack looked at the Underwood on the Captain’s desk with awe. He’d never seen such a beautiful machine before. It was so simple, so streamlined, so elegant. He found himself looking forward to beginning his work with an eagerness he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“A pact then , between gentlemen of honour?” Merritt said, running one fingertip along the typewriter’s keys. “As Achilles had Homer, so I shall have you. Our deeds will live forever!”
Jack smiled. “They shall,” he said.
Merritt insisted that they both light a celebratory Cuban cigar, which they did. After a few minutes, Merritt said he had some letters to finish writing before the launch.
So Jack excused himself and left, intending to go find Billy and head out on deck to watch the final preparations on board the ship.
He’d just shut the door to the Captain’s quarters when she surprised him, grabbing and pushing him up against the wall in the darkened hallway.
* * * * *
She bit at his lower lip like an animal as she kissed him.
Instantly he forgot his anger. Forgot the danger he was in. Forgot himself.
Then, too soon, she was gone. Slipping past him into Merritt’s quarters, and closing the door shut behind her.
Jack didn’t know how to feel. His mind was a perfect blend of confusion: all he wanted to do was linger on the taste of her lips, yet part of him still hated her utterly, with a passion. And now, to top it all off, he was very suddenly—insanely—jealous.
It was not an emotion he knew well, and he did not like it.
It was a shame, too, because part of him really liked Merritt, despite himself. Jack stared at the door and listened.
He could hear Sadie talking with Merritt quietly inside the Captain’s quarters, but their voices were muffled.
W hat was her game now? Jack wondered. He clenched his fists suddenly, unable to bear the thought of her kissing Merritt. But why should he care? Was he going to let her trick him again? Was he really that—
Then Jack noticed Billy watching him from the darkness at the end of the hall. He wondered how much the boy had seen.
“Let’s go up and watch the launch,” Jack said.
They walked up
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