THE SEA SERPENT SYNDICATE
BY EVERARD JACK APPLETON
(1872-1931)
IF
it wasn't for Jimmy Raines, I
wouldn't try to write this story out.
It ain't the kind of thing I like to
think about, any more than I like to
remember the name of a horse that has
burned up my money on the track; but
Jimmy is a good fellow, and he asked
me to do it — and what Jimmy Raines
wants me to do, I do. Not that he
asked me because I am an author,
understand; I follow the races, and so does
Jimmy. But I have been a sheet writer
in my time; and I guess he figures that
makes me the literary member of our
partnership. "And besides," says he,
"you don't spell so many words different
from the way them dictionary dope-book
boys do."
The reason he wants this story printed
is because the people he tells it to give
him the frozen look. They don't
believe him, and I don't know as I blame
'em; but he thinks if they see it in print
they will. I had a suspicion, at first,
that he was going to get the story by
heart and spring it some day as a
lecture; but maybe I do him wrong.
The Sea Serpent Syndicate was a
streak of luck — bad or good, I don't
know which. It started in a little
summer garden, not far from Latonia, and
it ended on an island somewhere south
of Cuba. If it hadn't been for the
earthquake ⸺ But I'm getting away
before the flag drops. To start right, it
was a day that was hot enough to warp
you — and we have that kind in Cincinnati,
let me tell you, every now and then
— and Jimmy and I decided to cut the
Latonia races out for an afternoon, and
take it comfortable.
We had dropped into Smearcase
John's summer garden, back of
Newport, for a glass of beer and a cigar, and
both of us was tilted back in the shade
when the swing door from the street
opened, and a proposition that looked
like the survivor of a North Pole
expedition slouched in and dropped into a
chair a few feet away from us. The
thermometer was batting away at the
hundred mark, but Mr. Coldfeet had on
an overcoat with the collar turned up
and a muffler around his neck. Jimmy
stared at him a minute and then gave
me the wink.
"I hope you ain't got your ears
frosted, William," says he to me, as old
John come out to get the stranger's
order. The guy had a big, round package
with him, and when John leaned over
the table to get his good ear near enough
to catch the order, the stranger jerked
the package away like it was a bunch of
diamonds.
"Gimme a lemonade," says he, "and
make it big and sour."
I was trying to make up my mind
where I had seen him before when he
looked up and straight into my eyes.
The change that come over him was
something remarkable. In a minute he
had cleared the distance between us,
and had hold of my hand, pumping it
up and down like a steam engine, and
saying: "Billy Martin, Billy Martin!
Where did you come from?"
"I didn't come at all," says I, kind of
backing up. "I was here first. Where
did you come from, Alphonse Doolan?
That's the question."
"From a sub-division of hell," he answers, "and I ain't used to white man's
weather yet. That's why I feel sorter
chilly."
"We thought there must be
something wrong," says I, waving my hand
at Jimmy. "Mr. Doolan, shake hands
with my side partner, Mr. Raines. Mr.
Doolan is just back from a vacation in
the middle of Arizona, Jimmy."
Doolan shook his head. "No, Billy,"
says he, "I left there five years ago. And
I've been putting in my time in a hotter
place than old Arizona. I've been
surrounded by the equator and glued to an
island down in the Carib. And I'm
nigh dead with the heat of it."
"Won't you rest your overcoat,
then?" I says. "The last I heard of
you, you was sending daily reports
about the temperature and barometer
readings from some hole in the great
American desert, for the wise guys at
Washington."
Alphonse dragged up his chair and
the bundle with it. "I was," he says,
"but they transferred me. I got locoed
one day and sent a lot of dispatches to
them about the ice forming and the
snowstorm freezing my instruments.
As it was August, they thought I needed
a rest for a couple of months, and after
that they shipped me to my island. The
natives call it La Deeoble, or something
like that — but it's hell's side entrance, or
I miss my guess! Four years I've been
hanging on there, broiling to death.
Four years of heat and thirst, and
nobody to talk to! Nothing to look at but
scrub and sand — Lord, the sand there is
on that island! It's a wonder it don't
sink with the weight of it!"
"Working for the government still,
Alphonse?" I asks.
"Sure," he answers. "Taking the
readings every day, and sending them
back to Havana whenever they happen
to think of me and send a scow down
with grub for me. I'm nigh crazy, Billy
— but I'll break ahead of the game
because ⸺"
He stopped a minute, looking very
foxy.
"Because I've got him!"
"Him?" says I. "Who's him?"
"Billy. I named him after you, Billy
Martin, and you've got cause to be
proud."
"Baby?" says I, yawning. I'd
expected something more exciting from
the way Alphonse had started out.
"Baby?" says he, scornful-like.
"Naw! Sea serpent!" says Alphonse.
Jimmy kicked me under the table,
and I sat up. Alphonse was daffier than
I had thought, after all.
"Oh, I am proud," I says. "I am,
Alphonse. Where do you keep him?"
"On the island," he answers, sucking
his lemonade through the straw and
watching me close. "In the middle of
the lake the earthquake made. He come
in with the 'quake, and I've tamed him.
He eats out of my hand, and he's a good
snake, I tell you — but I can't afford him.
It takes all my supplies to keep him
good-tempered — and sardines, his
favorite, come high."
Jimmy was getting restless with his
feet, and I sees it was up to me. I
reached for my sky piece.
"Yes," I says, "it must be kind of a
luxury to have a pet sea serpent,
Alphonse, following you round the house
and eating out of your hand. And as
for sleeping with one ⸺"
"Cut it out, cut it out, Billy!" says
Alphonse, as sensible as could be. "You
and I worked together long enough for
you to know that I ain't a liar. This is
straight goods, and here's the evidence,"
and he commenced to unwrap the package.
He took out something that looked
like an overgrown soup plate and put it
down on the table. It smelled fearful
fishy, I noticed, and it appeared to be
made of horn, half an inch thick, and as
big as a scale from the fish you didn't
catch.
"Well," I says, "don't act like a rum-dum,
Alphonse. Go ahead with your
spiel. I'll listen to your pipe dream, if
Mr. Raines will."
"There ain't going to be no spiel,"
says Alphonse, bristling up. "That's a
scale from my sea serpent — come off
him two weeks ago, when he got sore
at something and throwed it at me."
He reached into his insidest pocket,
and pulled out a letter.
"This here letter," says he, opening
that and tossing it across the table, "is
from the Natural History Society secretary
across the river, and you can see
what he says — 'The article in the
possession of Mr. Alphonse Doolan appears
to be, and probably is, a scale from an
ocean reptile, popularly known as a sea
serpent.'"
I looked at the letter, and sure enough
that is what it said, and a lot more about
the value of the discovery, and wishing
the authorities at Washington would
take the matter up with Mr. Doolan. I
read it aloud, and Jimmy's eyes got bigger
and bigger. When I finished and
handed it back to Doolan, Jimmy butts
in for the first time.
"Mr. Doolan," says he, "how much
of the cush would it take to go after that `
animal of yours and bring him to the
States for exhibition purposes?"
"Well," replies Alphonse, "I don't
know. As soon as I get to Washington,
I'm going to get the Smithsonian
Institute to figure on it."
"Smithsonian nothing!" says Jimmy.
"Can't you see something better ahead
than that? If you bring that animal
here — and if he is as big as that hunk of
horn would seem to indicate — there's a
fortune in it for three men."
Alphonse nodded his head slowly.
"But it would cost all of five thousand
dollars," he says, "and I'm broke."
Then Jimmy showed for the first time
how dippy he had got all in a minute.
It's a fact that when a man that's down
on the books as a wise proposition goes
against a come-on game he plays it
heavier than the plain sucker — and Jimmy
was going against it.
"Mr. Doolan," says he, leaning over
the soup plate thing, "when I am a sport,
I try to be a game one. Billy Martin
and I cleaned up a little more than the
figure you name, last month. That's
why we are taking the afternoon off
here, in place of beating the bookies out
of other people's money. Now, Mr.
Martin seems interested in this story of
yours, pipey as it looks to be, and I am,
too. I am willing to make you a proposition.
We will go back to your island,
every fellow paying his own way. If
that snake of yours is the real thing and
not a gold brick or green goods, we'll
stake you to bringing him here, and
split the profits on showing him. Is that
fair?"
It was a long speech for Jimmy, and
plain as an old shoe. Alphonse couldn't
help seeing it was straight, too.
He thought a minute, looked at me,
and then held out his hand to Jimmy.
"Shake!" he says. I did the same,
and the Doolan-Raines-Martin Sea
Serpent Syndicate was formed.
· · · · · · ·
Six days later we were aboard a little
fruit boat, butting around in the
Caribbean Sea, looking for Alphonse's
island. It was my first experience on the
raging deep, and I think it will be my
last, unless I am chloroformed and
dragged aboard another ship. I never
knew how rocky a man could feel and
get over it again until that trip! When I
wasn't lying in a dirty little bunk, I
was flat on my back on deck, trying to
forget the motion of the boat, and wishing
for home and mother. The fourth
day out, about ten o'clock in the morning,
Alphonse let out a yell like an
Indian and grabbed a chart from the
captain's hand.
"That's my island, cap!" he says,
pointing to a little black spot on the
edge of the ocean. "Steer for her, and
dump us off. I'm hungry to see that
blamed little bunch of sand and
lonesomeness again!"
In less than an hour we had ranged
alongside the hump of sand and scrub
palm trees, and half an hour later we
were sitting on our traps watching the
fruit boat get smaller and smaller in the
distance. It was hot — hot as the hinges
of the place I hope never to see — but
Alphonse seemed real happy. He
messed around and got something to
stay our stomachs, out of his pack, and
then we all lighted our pipes and waited
for the sun to go down a bit.
"Alphonse," says I, as we stretched
out under the biggest tree we could
find, "I haven't asked you for any
particulars since we started on this hike.
Now I want you to tell us how you come
to round up that snake of yours."
Alphonse took a long draw at his pipe
and clasped his hands behind his head.
"It ain't much of a story," says he,
"but you've got a right to know it. My
station ain't anything but a shack of
palmetto and a dry goods box for the
instruments. It stands at the head of
what was a ravine. One night there
come a 'quake, and I got up to see
whether I was on this side of the world
or floating around in the Chinese Sea.
The moon was shining bright, and when
I looked: for my ravine, I made sure I
was locoed again. There wasn't none
left. In place of the valley was a lake,
half a mile wide and two long, boiling
and churning up and down outrageous.
And in the middle of the smear was the
durnedest creature you ever see. He's
three hundred feet long — I made him lay
still once while I measured him, so you
can bet on the figures — and has a head
on him like a skinned cow. He was
bellering, and flapping his fins, and racing
around like he was bughouse and had
just got next to the fact. He smelt
something fearful — same as the bottom
of a vessel when it needs the barnacles
scraped off. That was Billy, and I soon
figured out what had happened. The
'quake had opened my island from the
bottom, let Billy and a lot of water in,
closed up again — and left the snake and
me to get acquainted. I didn't get much
sleep the rest of the night, with his
thrashing around and bawling for his
folks, but by morning he'd wore himself
out and was sleeping as peaceful as a
lamb on top of the water. I took a
fancy to him right then. I don't know
what made me think of you just then,
Bill Martin, but I did; and I named him
after you before he could wake up and
object."
"Maybe his eyes are blue," says Jimmy,
kicking at a land crab that was
investigating our outfit.
"One is, and the other's green," says
Alphonse. "But that didn't cut any
figure. When he opened one and seen
me observing him, he got sore. He
raised about ten feet of his neck out of
the water, and cut loose with a twist of
his head and a grunt, and this very scale
that brought us three together come
sailing straight for me. I sidestepped,
and it buried itself in the sand.
"'Look a-here, Bill,' I says, 'that's no
way to treat the owner of this island. I
didn't invite you here, in the first place;
you're unexpected company, and you
oughter behave yourself polite. I'm
willing for you to stay, but you've got
to be good-natured!'
"I don't say he understood me, but
he looked as if he might. Then he
opened his mouth and yawned like he
was embarrassed, so I throwed him a
piece of meat. He caught it and swung
around, and vamoosed for the other side
of the lake. From that on he acted
right, and I didn't have no cause to
complain. I never realized what
company a sea serpent could be; but blamed
if I ain't right lonesome for him now.
He's an affectionate reptile, and it won't
take him no time to get broke in, once
we git him to the States. A few more
weeks of kind treatment will make him
as gentle as a kitten, and he will swim
after any boat I happen to be on. You
hear me!"
"But suppose he gits to cutting up?"
asks Jimmy.
"Mr. Raines," says Alphonse, "I ain't
teaching my snake politeness through a
correspondence school. If he cuts up,
ain't I there to administer the proper
chastisement — and stop feeding him
fish? You leave that to me. And now,
as the sun is subsiding, let's hike!"
The scenery wasn't the kind any one
would be apt to go crazy about, so we
managed to put in the next two hours
getting over the hummocks of sand,
leading up to the plateau that Alphonse
said occupied the center of his island.
At the end of that time we come to a
low hill from which we could see a little
lake with a few scrub trees on the banks,
and a shack at one end.
"There," says Alphonse, proud as a
peacock, "there is Doolanville. Pleasant
prospect, ain't it? I am thinking some
of cutting it up into lots and selling it
to desirable parties only. A leetle fur
from the station, mebbe, but you ain't
bothered with borrowin' neighbors. And
as fur magnificent views, there ain't
none like it anywhere hereabouts."
"I should hope not," says Jimmy, as
we made for Alphonse's shack. When
we reached it, Alphonse throwed the
pine-door open like he was sergeant-at-arms
at a National Convention.
"Welcome to the Hotel de Doolan!"
says he, peering in. "But mebbe you'd
rather have the lizards out before you
go in. They ain't very partial to strangers."
He steps inside and raises a racket,
and a menagerie of half a dozen scaly
critters, not counting the land crabs and
house snakes, run out. "Now," says he,
appearing once more, "your apartments
are ready, gentlemen. Step inside and
register. Sorry all our rooms with
baths attached are took; but the lake is
convenient and free."
By the time we had packed our things
away and fixed our bunks, the sun had
almost set, and Alphonse was rustling
around with his pots and pans on the
outside, singing to himself. Jimmy and
I watched him for a few minutes, and
then Jimmy says to me, sorter quiet-like:
"Am I hittin' a pipe, Billy? Or is
this the real thing?"
"Don't ask me," says I. "Feels like I
ought to wake up, myself, before long!"
Jimmy shook his head. "The worst
of it is that we are here, and we can't
get our money back at the gate. Looks
to me as if wed have to see it through.
But where's the snake?"
Just as he spoke, I looked out across
the lake, and my hat raised two inches
off my head. Of course, I had some
faith in all that Alphonse had told us,
but I wasn't prepared to have it all come
true so sudden and unexpected.
Before I could kick myself to see if
I really was awake, the snake was
almost on us. He come sailing across that
lake looking like a bad dream for fair.
He was as big around as the water
tower in Eden Park, and I could have
sworn that he was long enough to go
around Latonia race track twice, and
a lap or so over. He slid across the
water, a giant, greased fishing worm,
the last rays of the sun shining on his
scales and turning them as white as
silver.
When he caught sight of us, I held
my breath. He raised his head out of
the water twenty feet or more and back
pedaled to beat the band, churning up
the lake till it frothed. His eyes was
bigger than a barrel, and when he
opened his mouth, showing a row of
teeth resembling a whitewashed picket
fence, it was too much for Jimmy. He
give a sort of grunt and went down and
out, in a dead faint.
As for me, I was fast getting seasick
myself, and wondering how I could hit
the trail back to the coast again, leaving
Jimmy and his faint to themselves, when
Alphonse stuck his head out of the
shack.
"Ah, ha!" he cries, stepping out, with
his frying pan in one hand and a box of
sardines in the other. "Billy has came!
Now I guess you fellows know whether
your Uncle Alphonse was toying with
the truth or not. Ain't he a beaut,
William — and ain't you proud that he's
your namesake?"
I was trying to get enough breath
back to express my thoughts on that and
other subjects, when the snake struck
the beach, stopped short and let out a
roar that blowed me over against Jimmy.
Alphonse seemed to think it a
good joke, and snapped his fingers at
the critter.
"Here, Billy; here, Billy-boy!" he
calls. "Come and say howdy to your
proud old boss and his friends. You
mustn't forgit your manners!"
The snake ducked down a foot or two,
looked us over suspiciously for a minute,
and then brought his head to a level
with Alphonse. It wasn't a head that
you'd want a picture of in the parlor,
with its big eyes, one green and the
other blue, and long, white whiskers
sprouting a frozen fountain out of his
nose and chin! But Alphonse seemed
tickled to have him so close, and shoved
the open box of sardines at him — and
Billy smiled!
You never seen a sea serpent smile,
of course, so you can't imagine what
it is. You haven't missed very much,
though, so don't lose any sleep over it.
The inside of Mammoth Cave, painted
red — that was Billy's smile. I was glad
when he closed it up again, on the dinky
box of sardines, for he seemed so tickled
with them that he kept his mouth shut
and laid his head down on the sand
beside Alphonse like a sick kitten, waiting
to be petted. Alphonse scratched him
with the frying pan, and the snake lay
there purring his gratitude and pleasure
for five minutes.
It was the noise he made — you'd a
thought a benzine buggy was getting
ready to quit business — that brought
Jimmy around. He come to, facing the
snake, and when he clapped eyes on
him, Jimmy let out a yell that would
have won the prize in a college-yell
contest. The snake didn't like it, though,
and before Alphonse could speak to him,
he had reared up, the scales standing out
on his neck like bristles on a bulldog.
The next minute he give his head a
short, sharp bob, and one of those horn
wash basins broke loose from its moorings,
and shot by Jimmy's ear, close
enough to cut his hair.
"Wow! Take him away, take him
away!" howls Jimmy, making for the
shack, followed by another little
sea-serpent souvenir. Alphonse waved his
frying pan at Billy, and called: "Behave
yourself, Bill! Shame on you!"
But Billy was scared, too, and he kept
firing scales at Jimmy until he reached
the shack and got hid under the boxes
and barrels inside. Then the snake's
short ears laid back, showing he didn't
mean anything vicious, he lowered his
head again, crawled up a few feet on
the beach and butted his nose in the sand
at Alphonse's feet, asking forgiveness
for his behavior as plain as any dog ever
did.
Alphonse sat down and began to talk
to his pet, and, not wishing to disturb a
little family conversation like that, I
sneaked away to find Jimmy, who was
having a bunch of assorted fits in the
furthest corner of the Hotel de Doolan.
And that was our introduction to
Doolan's sea serpent.
It is hard to believe, I know, but
inside a week I got so used to having that
snake around that I didn't pay any
more attention to him than I would to
a big dog. We got to be good friends,
too, although I never could find much
enjoyment in his sea breath, which was
strong and noticeable, him being so
affectionate. Every morning when I went
for a swim in the lake, he'd see me
coming, and he'd cavort and do water
gymnastics until I got out. He'd come
to my call, just as he did to Alphonse's,
and seemed to try his best to make me
feel at home.
But he never did like Jimmy, I'm
sorry to say. That yell he heard Jimmy
give sort of prejudiced him, I guess.
He didn't shy any more soup plates, but
he just didn't take any interest in him;
and Jimmy seemed to rather enjoy the
slight. It was a mutual dislike, too. If
Jimmy could have handed Billy a dynamite
sandwich, he'd have done it, I
reckon; but he never let on to Alphonse
that the snake's vagaries hurt his feelings.
Even the night that Billy took
Alphonse for a ride, Jimmy didn't look
jealous. The snake was laying up on
the beach, as usual, and Alphonse was
scraping his head with a piece of board,
when Billy seemed took with an idea.
He slipped his head under Alphonse,
raised up and started for the lake again,
with Alphonse sitting astride his neck,
same as a bareback rider in the circus.
Billy took him for a fast "workout"
across the lake and back, and Alphonse
was so tickled with the experience that
he made me try it the next night.
Every night after that Alphonse and
I would have a ride or two, and all
Billy asked for was a box of sardines
and a three-minutes scratch of the head.
I don't believe there ever lived a
kinder-hearted sea serpent than Billy.
But of course this couldn't last. The
end was bound to come, and it come
sudden enough when it did. Alphonse
had just announced to us, about two
weeks after we landed, that he thought
Billy was ready for his trip.
"He won't try to play hookey," said
he, answering my question on that
subject. "When we get him to the coast,
he'll be afraid to leave me. I think we
will start to-morrow, and then — across
the water for us, and fortune waiting on
the other side! We'll have Billy the talk
of the world inside of ⸺"
And that was as far as Alphonse got.
Something broke loose under the island
just then, and the lake commenced to
tear around as if there was a cyclone at
the bottom of it. Billy looked back at
his happy home, slid up on the bank,
shoved his head between Alphonse's
legs and whirled out into the middle
of that boiling, roaring bunch of water
like he had been sent for. Alphonse
grabbed him by the ears and yelled for
him to go back, but it wasn't any use.
As they reached the middle of the
lake there come a noise like Niagara
and a dynamite factory let loose at once,
and the ground under Jimmy and me
began to buckle and crawl.
I closed my eyes a minute and hung
onto Jimmy, trying to think of
something fitting to say, and when I opened
them again, the lake was gone! In its
place was the long ravine Alphonse had
told us about, and a big, ugly-looking
crack, into which the last of the lake
was pouring. Out of the crack stuck a
few yards of poor old Billy's tail.
Before I could say a word, that had
disappeared, and Jimmy and I were alone!
The lake was gone, the snake was gone,
the earthquake had come and gone, and
Alphonse ⸺
"Come on!" I yelled. "That snake
has kidnaped Alphonse, Jimmy Raines!"
Jimmy made some sort of answer,
but I didn't hear him. I was running
down the wet, slippery bed of the lake
toward the hole Billy had gone into. It
never come to me that Alphonse
couldn't live in the water like Billy
could; they had been so friendly and
together so much I had forgotten they
were different. But when I stumbled
over a big bowlder and fell flat, the jar
brought me to my senses.
"You are right," I says, when Jimmy
come panting up; "it ain't no use to
hunt Alphonse. He's gone, and nothing
left to show it!"
Jimmy buried his face in his hands.
"Ain't it higeous?" says he. "Not even
a thing to bury!"
"He bragged too much," says I, "and
he didn't have his fingers crossed!"
"But he ain't dead yet!" says a weak
voice from the other side of the bowlder,
and there was Alphonse, sound and well,
though wet and weak.
"When I seen what was happening,"
he explained, after he could talk some, "I
knowed Billy was trying to take me with
him back to his home. When we got
here, I jumped and hung onto this rock
while the water whirled around me and
sucked him down. I skun my knees and
knuckles, but I ain't lost nothing but
my snake!"
We all looked at the little crack that
had swallowed up our fortune, but we
felt too bad to talk much.
"I reckon," says Jimmy, after a while,
"that it don't pay to cry over spilled sea
serpents. Let's make the best of it. We
played Billy off the boards, and we lost.
Its back to the States for me!"
"I guess you are right," says
Alphonse, "and the 'quake seems to have
wound up the affairs of the Sea Serpent
Syndicate. Well, gentlemen, I'm sorry,
but I hope you'll hold me blameless. I
could tame a sea serpent, but I ain't
much on taming earthquakes."
Then we gathered ourselves up, and
went back to the shack, a damp and
sorry bunch of broken sports.
The next day we drilled back to the
coast. Alphonse wouldn't hear to us
taking him along, though. "My work is
here," says he, "and here I stay." Then
he added, very wistful, and the tears
pretty close, I tell you: "And if Billy
ever should come back, I wouldn't want
him to think I had deserted him."
As luck would have it, we sighted a
vessel two hours after we reached the
coast, and the captain sent a small boat
to take us aboard. Jimmy and I shook
hands hard with Alphonse, and when we
had got aboard the steamer, we watched
him until we couldn't see no more.
Just before we got out of hearing, I
made a megaphone of my hands.
"If Billy ever comes back," I yells,
"you'll let us know, won't you?"
"Sure!" he hollers back, though sad
and dreamy.
That was five years ago — and we have
never heard from Alphonse. So I guess
the Sea Serpent Syndicate was dissolved
for good and all the day Billy went out
with the earthquake.
