Transcriber's note
Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been repaired. Variable spelling has been retained.A list of the changes made can be found at the end of the book.
THE YAZOO MYSTERY
THE
YAZOO MYSTERY
A Novel
BY
IRVING CRADDOCK
BRITTON PUBLISHING COMPANY
NEW YORK
Copyright, 1919, BY
BRITTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC.
MADE IN U.S.A.
All Rights Reserved
To Those Who Love Adventure
The Yazoo Mystery
CHAPTER I
The harbor-master entered briskly but dubiouslythe room of the ship's first officer.
"What about the five men for the Domus?" hebellowed.
"All ready to sign, sir," assured the manager ofthe employment agency, pointing toward two saddlecolored negroes, a Spaniard, and a limp figure halfasleep, slouching in the corner on a narrow bench,one hand clutching an expensive leather bag.
"It is the best I could do on such short notice,"assured the agency man in an undertone, noticingthat the first officer's inventory was not very encouraging.
"Get them up here to sign. We're anchored inthe stream, losing two thousand dollars every hourwe stay here. We need five more firemen—anythingthat looks human," he added impatiently, spreading10the ship's articles on the counter that reached acrossthe smelly water-front den.
"Come on and sign up, boys," said the agencyman with assumed good nature.
While the two negroes and the Spaniard weresigning, the ship's first officer went to the sleepingfigure in the corner, took up his free hand and feltof the palm, then dropped it disgustedly as he tookthe man by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.
"Come on and sign up, Strong," he shouted intohis ear.
Strong labored with himself, still holding to hisbag, half staggered to the counter and signed on theline indicated—"Hiram Strong, Jr."
The signature was plain and businesslike. Evidentlythe Candidate had known better days.
"He's been kicked out or disowned," muttered thefirst officer to me while he was signing up. "Hewon't be worth a cuss. Look—those hands neverdid a lick of work—but he will fill the list," headded, walking about nervously and sizing me upwith apparent approbation.
The agency man came up at once and held thepen towards me, and without hesitation I signed11"Ben Taylor" on the line beneath. While I wasthus engaged Hiram leaned against the counterweak and listless, his bag between his feet. We hadboth signed as firemen or stokers on the steamshipDomus for a round trip to an unnamed Gulf,