Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

142 “Everything is finished,” she declared. “The boy understands. Dinner will be ready in five minutes. It is already late, and I have not yet dressed.” s That knocked the courtier out of John Eade, wool merchant. In a tramp paddle-boat, on an out-of-the-way Malay river, when they might run aground at any moment, she proposed to dress for dinner! He wondered whether he could rake out something in the way of a black tie and dinner clothes. As he had only five minutes to spare, he would have to be quick. He dived into his cabin, hurled the con- tents of his box all over the place and was struggling into a stiff collar when the Chinese steward let fly at a gong as if he were scaring devils. A few minutes later Eade turned up in the saloon to find Herr Gottheimer and Madame Scala, dining téte-a-téte, the captain not having ven- tured to leave the bridge. Madame might have been in a restau- rant on the Rue Royale. She bowed her approval of the American’s compliment to herself; and Gottheimer, who was wear- ing a much creased pongee suit, expressed his disgust by a succession of grunts into his soup plate. The meal passed pleasantly enough for Eade. Madame, who was as charming as she looked, had plenty to say for herself. From time to time Gottheimer, who sat opposite her, gazed at her in a bovine manner over the top of his spectacles, and then went on with his food. “So Charles Cartwright is your cousin,” she observed, after it had taken her about five minutes to find out all about Eade. “Why, do you know him?” he ex- claimed. “Of course,” she laughed, a little nerv- ously, he thought. ‘‘Weare—friends. In fact, I go to Nolak especially to see him.” Eade inwardly cursed his cousin, and then did some rapid thinking. “And what’s the hurry?” he asked. She half turned toward him and looked him straight in the face. “Is there a hurry?” she asked. not understand.” “T do CHARLES GILSON “I certainly thought there might be something urgent,” he stammered. ‘The little dago captain gave out that he sure couldn’t navigate this river in the dark. I though it was you who made him change his mind.” She laughed again at that, though a good deal of her self-assurance seemed to have deserted her. ; “That should be my privilege,” she said. “But Quental is no fool. He knows his business. You may be sure we shall reach Nolak soon after midnight.” “I’m glad to hear it,” said the other. “Herr Gottheimer had doubts about it just now.” He had hoped to draw the German into the conversation; but the worthy Gott- heimer wasn’t taking any. He looked up, grunted, and then went on cutting a pine- apple. Suddenly Madame Eade upon an arm. “Tell me,” she said. ‘When we get to Nolak, you will sleep on board?” “Sure,” said he. “Time enough to look up my cousin in the morning.” Scala touched MOMENT after, complaining of the heat, she suggested that they should go on deck. And then and there, outside the door of the saloon, she admitted that she had not told him the truth. “Fernéo Quental just does what I tell him,” she observed. “Charles Cart- wright’s life is worth a great deal more than the little Chauve-Souris. But I would not admit that in front of Herr Gottheimer, who did not seem to approve of me.” She led the way up the steps to the poop where there was an iron seat clamped to the deck. Here she sat down, inviting Eade to join her. “There is plenty of room,” she said. ““And it is cooler here.” The last of the daylight still lingered in the west—a dull, burning streak above the treetops of the jungle. The flickering light of a hurricane-lamp fell upon a small boat, immediately in front of them, sus- comnlicloooks.com