Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

92 GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND { calls the mainm’st to witness it’s true. Swears to it on a stack o’ Bibles—swears till all’s blue!” “Shhh! Ease off, Cap’n. Not so loud!” Leadspitter hauled up a camp stool and sat down cheek by jowl with Captain Bohannon. “This here, now, is what I calls gram- matical! You’re a cool star, all righto, but P’m just as cool. Without no frills to it, you mean we're to whack up this here stuff?” “You ain’t so damn’ tender that you don’t get my drift! Fou won’t tear under the wing!” “We goin’ to let Pete Mayes in on this?” Bohannon shouted an angry answer: “Hell’s bells, no! What d’you think I am, a complete fool?” Mechanically Leadspitter drummed on the desk top. “No, I never thought that o’ you, any- how. So then, it’s just you an’ me.” The first wine of excitement was dying in their veins. Now their pulses were beginning to beat with a more calculant tempo. “Lost overboard,” the captain re- . peated. “That’s what I said. Act o’ God, stress 0’ weather, or whatever. And nobody but us two knows what in this here box, do they?” “No. How much d’you make it, Cap'n?” Bohannon dumped the contents of the dispatch box on to his desk and spread it abroad. A little chamois bag caught his eye. This bag had lain beneath the paper money and the bonds, and thus had till now escaped him. With thick fingers that quivered a bit he picked it up. Lead- spitter eagerly exclaimed— “Cast off them cords there, sir, an’ let’s see!”’ With some difficulty Bohannon loos- ened the chamois bag. From it he poured out a cascade of diamonds, small and large, of emeralds, rubies, sapphires. Even in the half light of the cabin the precious stones winked and shimmered, fascinating pools of liquid light. be OLY murder in Ireland!” the captain gasped. . Leadspitter made odd, grunt- ing noises, half breathless and blown by winds of covetousness. He managed to articulate— “How—how much—” “Lashin’s o’ money!” Bohannon ex- claimed. “I ain’t strong on estimatin’ joolry, or the like o’ that, but I know there’s many a king’s ransome for less ’n Just these here. As for the bonds and cash—” “Devil take the bonds! We don’t want no truck nor dealin’ with bonds, Cap’n! Ain’t people always gettin’ ketched up that way, an’ hove on a lee shore, mon- keyin’ with bonds? Burn ’em up, sir, heave ’em to hell’s alley an’ gone. That’s my say! But the cash money there, the rhno—how much? Count it, Cap’n, count it!” , Bohannon’s clumsy fingers shook as he stacked up the heavy bundles of bank- notes—some of them the big white ones of the Bank of England—and began counting. Wolfish eyed, Leadspitter watched, with suspended breath. “Hundred and five thousand, Amer- ican,” the captain announced. “Sixteen thousand pounds, English. That’s, let’s see, call it eighty thousand bucks. Hun- dred and eighty-five thousand, without them jools.” He fell silent, his eyes like live coals. For a moment Leadspitter could find no words. Only the rumor of their heavy breathing and the send of the waves against the hull disturbed that pregnant silence. “Hundred an’—eighty-five thousand!” gulped Leadspitter. Sweating and with red hair rucked up, he made a singular figure of agitation. ‘“That’s—by Judas Priest!—that’s more ’n ninety thousand apiece for us, an’—”’ “Slack away aft!” the captain growled. ‘Who said anything about even-steven?” “‘Ain’t you goin’ to?” “Like hell! Here, here, don’t you try to get to wind’ard o’ me, Mr. Furlong!’ You’re on the wrong tack, entire. One comnlicloooks.com