Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

L en iy : DUBEQUE stepped closer, came oie into i Sie oF light that the lantern, hung from the hut rafter, shot through the doorway. The lantern that he carried had made only a pool of light about his feet. : Then DuBeque lied as with all of his practise he had never lied before. He did not choose his words with care but spoke with that fluent earnestness that is so amazing to truth-tellers, who are not only surprized that some people will deliberately misstate facts but elaborately relate false details. : DuBeque began by saying “that boy Gil- bert” had got himself into trouble. He had heard that Willerby was no friend of yours, Williams, and said that he was not one either, “I’m one of Willerby’s managers, Wil- liams, and he has often been angry at you. He thinks you’ve interfered with his traders and recruiters before now, but down deep the old man’s had to admire you. I’ve often heard him say so. He isa good deal of a fighter himself. Especially in his younger days, and, whenever he has thought you have hurt his pocketbook—why, of course, he has been furious. But, when that fellow Gilbert came on board and said he heard that Hurricane Williams was an outlaw and pirate and that Willerby wanted him and that he, Gilbert, would be glad to point out your hut so a party could sneak up and grab you—why, Williams, W. W. very nearly tramped the deck in. He was that mad. “He just tore around, and I got this—” indicating his blackened face—“‘by stepping in between them when he was swinging on that fellow Gilbert. W. W.’sa big man, and that fellow’s nothing but a boy, and I knew W. W.’d be sorry—he always is—if he hurt the boy. But the idea of anybody suggest- ing such a thing to him made him clear crazy. He sent me over here to tell you about it. Gilbert’s praying the old man won’t put him ashore, and the old man won’t have him on the ship.” Williams listened closely. His body was stiff and rigid, his eyes agleam. Out of the bitterness of experience with his fellow men he saw no reason for doubting that Gilbert Lang had done precisely as DuBeque said. The boy had never concealed dislike for him, and that afternoon he had undoubtedly been frightened by having Williams sur- prize him with Uala. Treachery was what ~ . wa > . ¥ | Se ak — Pee ‘ a > co nll « Savages Williams expected from all men, all white ones. He had thought Gilbert Lang dif- ferent. : The boy was different from most men, but in them all was the streak of treachery. So, though he might believe what was reported ill of Gilbert Lang, he saw no reason for ac- cepting what was reported gallant of Wins- ton Willerby. He had never met Willerby, but he had met men who told of Willerby’s anything but gallant threats toward him. | “Ts that all you have to say?” i asked through a strained throat, though his voice was not loud. ‘“‘Why, yes,” DuBeque replied, surprized, disconcerted, ‘‘about all = “Then go to a Those words came slowly, deliberately, as if definitely ridding himself of DuBeque, Willerby and Gilbert Lang. Williams turned abruptly to the table and sat down, his back toward the door out- side of which stood DuBeque and Banoo. “But, Williams,” DuBeque protested, scarcely knowing what he would say next but determined to say something, anything, that might possibly get through the baffling reserve of this man. “But, Williams,” he repeated,speaking very earnestly, for he was in earnest,‘‘I know how you feel about that boy, and I don’t blame you. I know the chance of you and Wil- lerby ever really being friends is too remote to suggest. I know you don’t care what Willerby or anybody else that trades or re- cruits thinks of you—”’ the words were com- ing easier now; DuBeque could see a clear course of argument—"‘but here is a chance for you to meet Willerby, and you can tell him just what his tradersand blackbirders do do. He doesn’t believe the reports, Williams. “We've all hinted at the way they rob and kidnap, but it makes him furious, be- cause he simply doesn’t believe it. And, to be honest with you, all of us are afraid to tell him the cold truth. Youarenot. And,asI told you before, the old man admires you. You should hear the way he makes fun to their faces of the officers that go poking about in gunboats trying to locate you. Of course, that’s only if none of his traders or captains have recently had a run-in with you. W. W.’s a queer old fellow, Williams, © but he has a big heart. He wants to meet you. He sent me over here to ask you to come aboard this evening. You can see, I came alone.” oo Sy te