Past All Dishonor Read Free

eight yards from the skin I left on that sill and the rip I gave one leg, where it swung against a raw screw that was sticking out of one of the bedposts where the knob was missing. Finally I was out, and I wasn’t one second too soon, because when my rump hit the deck a light showed, and when I raised up to peep they were in there.
    They went through her trunk and the pillows on the bed and the mattress and bedclothes, and then the deputy said: “Very well, young woman, I’ll leave you here with the maid, and deputize her to search your person.”
    Then the men went out, and the maid stepped over to search. She was a big blonde girl that looked like a Swede. And the woman that lost the pocket-book stepped over to watch, her lips pulled in and her chin pushed out, and the breath whistling through her nose. But then my heart gave a bump. Because the way those black eyes were narrowed down to two little slits, and the way those thick red lips were twisted up, I knew there wasn’t going to be any searching, not by this pair. The maid knew it too, because she backed off and began to chatter something about her not being responsible in any way, she was just deputized by the officer. And the woman knew it too, when that smack hit one side of her face like a pistol shot, and the curls were jerked off the other side so hard the hat and wig came with them, and she standing there screaming, as bald as a coot. When the deputy came in with the captain and some men, he backed off from those hard eyes too. “And maybe you think you can search me?”
    “Miss, I’m not required to use force, and I’ve no intention of doing it. I’m required to warn you, however, that whatever you say and do can be used against you, and if you refuse to submit to search, that fact will no doubt be most interesting to a jury. Beyond denying you the freedom of the boat, which I had intended to give you, and locking you in this stateroom, I won’t go into the matter any further.”
    “You mean you can’t.”
    “Have it any way you like, miss.”
    “But he can.”
    She walked over to the captain, switching her hips. “Because he’s pretty. And because I can’t have things used against me. Because I’se pretty too, and can’t have myself put in any jail.” She raised her hands above her head and looked up at him. It was the first I had seen her smile, and I hated it she was smiling at him, not me, and letting him feel all over her breasts and hips and legs, and even lifting her dresses so he could search her better. Outside, the passengers were laughing and yelling dirty stuff, and every word a stab into my heart, that had been beating so hard before because I was proud of her. At last it was done, and they were all gone, except that the captain looked her in the eye on his way out, and said he’d drop by if he had time, and she said please do. I thought I ought to say good-bye to her, and thank her for saving my life, but couldn’t make myself do it. I slunk down the stairs to the freight deck, and went over the side the way I came aboard, and swum across to the shack.
    I was climbing out on my little plank landing before I felt that throb in my throat. Because there was my boat, the oars tucked under the seats, and all I had to do was jump in and I’d be alongside that steamer in a minute. I think I did it in half a minute. I threw the painter over the same rail she had used for the bucket, vaulted over to the freight deck, and ran up the stairs. Nobody noticed me that I could see. The deckhands were all in the bow, rolling freight off the pier, and the passengers were at the rail watching them, or else in the bar, having a drink. She was lying down, reading a paper, when I called, but she jumped up and came to the window. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”
    “I’ve been getting my boat. Come on. Hurry.”
    She dragged her trunk over, and I lifted it out the window. It was one of those little leather ones that fit nice in the