“You’ve sailed to Alaska before?” Frank asked as he leaned over and looked at the map. This late in the season, he wasn’t too fond of the idea of setting out with an inexperienced captain.
“Oh, yes, many times,” Hoffman replied. “Don’t worry, Mr. Morgan. We’ll have no trouble.”
“What about the weather?”
“It’ll be at least three weeks, probably a month, before the weather represents a danger. We’ll be in Skagway in less than a week.”
Hoffman seemed to know what he was doing, Frank thought. That eased his worries.
“Is it going to be all right for me to bring my horses along?” he asked.
“Horses?” Hoffman frowned. “The
“They can stand it for a few days,” Frank said. “I want my own mounts with me when we get there.”
“I don’t blame you for that. A man likes to have what he’s accustomed to.”
“I have a dog, too, but he won’t take up much room or be any trouble.”
“That’s fine, as long as he doesn’t fight with cats. We have a couple who sail with us to keep the rats out of the cargo.”
“Dog will leave them alone as long as I tell him to.” Frank added, “I’m going to see about having some supplies delivered for us to take along. Better to stock up on things here in Seattle rather than waiting until we get to Skagway.”
Hoffman nodded. “I believe that was Mr. Trench’s plan as well. There should be adequate room in the hold for whatever you want to bring along. Although having those horses in there will cut down on the available space.”
“We’ll work it out,” Frank said. He held out his hand. “Sounds like it’ll all be fine. I’m looking forward to sailing with you, Captain.”
Hoffman shook with him. “I hope it’s a pleasant journey for you, Mr. Morgan.”
Frank said so long and went up on deck again. He was headed for the gangplank when he heard a step behind him. A man said, “Morgan.”
Frank turned and saw the ship’s officer called Brewster. He gave the man a curt nod.
“You’re coming along to Alaska?” Brewster asked harshly.
“That’s right.”
“I think we should get something straight between us, then, before the voyage starts.”
“What’s that?” Frank asked, his voice cool.
“This,” Brewster said. He sent a punch rocketing at Frank’s jaw.
Chapter 7
The attack didn’t take Frank totally by surprise. Over the years he had learned how to sense the intentions of other men. That was one thing that had helped him stay alive as long as he had. As soon as he turned around and saw Brewster’s hostile stance, he knew the officer was looking for trouble.
With that much warning, Frank was able to pull his head aside so that Brewster’s punch missed completely, sailing past his ear by a good two inches. Thrown off balance by the missed blow, Brewster stumbled forward. Frank twisted at the waist, grabbed Brewster’s arm, and kept pivoting, hauling hard on the arm as he did so.
With a startled yell, Brewster lost his footing and crashed to the deck. He rolled over a couple of times before he came to a stop.
“You took your shot, mister,” Frank said in a hard, flat voice. “Let it go at that, and we’ll call it even.”
“The hell we will,” Brewster snarled as he climbed to his feet. He lowered his head and charged at Frank.
That bull rush was just a feint, though. When Frank started to dart aside from it, Brewster stopped suddenly and lashed out again with his fist. This time the punch landed cleanly on Frank’s jaw and knocked him back several steps. Like most sailors, even officers, Brewster obviously had plenty of experience as a bare-knuckles brawler. He charged again while Frank was off balance, and this time it was the real thing. Brewster wrapped his arms around Frank in a tackle that sent both of them slamming down onto the deck. Frank was on the bottom, and the impact drove the air out of his lungs.
As he gasped for breath, Frank was vaguely aware of shouting and knew that other members of the crew were probably gathering around to watch the fight. That meant he would be heavily outnumbered if the other sailors decided to take a hand.
He could only fight one battle at a time, though, so as Brewster tried to lock his hands around his throat, Frank sent a short punch straight up at the officer’s chin. It rocked Brewster’s head back and kept him from getting the choke hold he sought.
Frank arched his back off the deck, grabbed the lapels of Brewster’s uniform coat, and flung him off to the side. Frank rolled the other way, came up on hands and knees, and paused long enough to drag a deep breath back into his lungs.
A rush of footsteps told him that Brewster was charging him again. Frank twisted in that direction and saw Brewster swinging a foot at him in a vicious kick. Frank got his hands up in time to catch hold of Brewster’s ankle and stop the blow from landing. He surged up, still holding on to Brewster, and sent the officer toppling over backward. Brewster landed so hard on his back that Frank felt the deck vibrate a little under his feet.
