Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

154 not a little disconcerting. “Liu Tang, he getta up to Nolak all right. He knows this dam’ country, and speak Malay.” . “There’s the boat,”’ said Eade. “I’m ready to go up the river and can start at once. I can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak—warn my cousin that his life’s in danger and get whatever help I can for you.” Quental thought for a moment. To some extent he had regained his presence of mind, but he still greatly agitated. Never for long could he go without biting his nails, and he kept glancing nervously from one side to the other, as if he sus- pected that some one might spring at him at any moment. “You getta upstream in boat, mister. I give you two good men to row. You can’t miss Nolak—only few miles away.” As soon as he had given his orders to the serang he went back to his whining and reproaches. ~“T killa that dam’ Chinaman if you not stop me, presto,” he complained. “If you finda your cousin with throat cut, your fault, mister.” “Oh, dry up!” cried Eade, losing all patience with the man. “How long be- fore daylight? H you lose no time in lowering the boat, I might get to Nolak before Liu Tang. At any rate there may be a chance.” Quental shrugged his shoulders. “The boat alla ready, mister, soon’s you are,” said he. “I think, ver’ like I getta the boat off the mud under her own steam when the tide’s up.” “Tell me what you really think,” asked Eade. “What’s become of madame?” “Looks like she’s dead, mister. If she try make the alarm, Liu Tang perhaps killa her and throw body overboard.” Eade strode into the captain’s cabin and, using all his strength, wrenched the knife out of the wooden wall. “There’s no blood on this,” said he. “That make proof nothing,” said Quental. “She cry out, Liu Tang catch hold her throat, strangle her, presto. Easy work—and ver’ quick.” CHARLES GILSON ADE shuddered as he went below to his cabin. He had certainly heard a splash in the water. Could that have been Madame Scala’s dead body? He couldn’t believe that true— the little woman to whom he had talked at dinner but a few hours before, who had rather fascinated him. If this was the East, he thanked God he didn’t have to live in the country. He was sweating profusely as he scrambled into his clothes. Before he left his cabin he: took the precaution of put- ting a small automatic pistol into one of his pockets and a handful of cartridges into the other. Five minutes later, he was swinging through the darkness up the river, the silence disturbed only by the sweep of the oars in the strong hands of two lascar seamen. He made no attempt to steer. Seated in the stern, he held the rudder taut, and left the boat in charge of the two oarsmen, each of whom glanced repeatedly from side to side, whispering directions to one another. There was a moon now, screened by a thick, watery mist; as the river narrowed, the branches of the tall tapang trees on both sides almost touched overhead. To John Eade minutes seemed like hours. With the approach of dawn there came a cool damp breeze that caused the foliage in the jungle to rustle—an un- canny sound because it was indefinite and yet everywhere. The perspiration with which his shirt was saturated quite sud- denly became cold, and he began to shiver, his teeth chattering, and he could feel his heartbeats racing and his throat dry as sand. CHAPTER IV IN CARTWRIGHT’S BUNGALOW HE APPROACH of daylight brought John L. Eade to the reali- zation of two very different facts— the superb beauty of the Malay jungle and the. circumstance that he had con- comlicloooks.com