Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

48 up, Ward cast a quick, inquiring glance at the girl. What he saw startled him. She looked ten years older than the last time he had talked with her. Her eyes were staring straight ahead with an expres- sion almost of vacancy, like the eyes of a person whose reason had been overthrown by some inexpressible horror. haggard almost to the point of emaciation. She looked as if she had neither eaten nor slept for many days and nights, and the pallor of her cheeks threw the drawn lines into more startling relief. The vacant eyes turned to his just as the match went out. It had been only the briefest of glances, but short as it was he saw that it had brought up once more that terror he had surprised there several times in the past. “Now,” said Blaydon, puffing rapidly at his-cigar. ‘I wanted to ask you just a few more questions about that affair you had here the other night. You know, the time those fellows tackled you and Conway here and you shot at them. Nellie says you didn’t tell her anything about it.” “No,” said Ward. “I did not care to alarm her needlessly. I was quite prepared to take care of them if they returned, and I . felt that Miss Blaydon had far too much to worry her as it was.’ “Ah, yes; I see. That was mighty con- siderate’ of you — mighty considerate. Wasn’t it, Nellie?” - He turned to the girl, whose silhouette was barely discernible. She had shrunk back as far as possible out of the dim glow from the distant lantern, and Ward could not be certain whether her head nodded in reply to her uncle’s question or not. But Stephen Blaydon continued without waiting for any further answer. “You say you were prepared for them if they returned. How are you prepared?” “Both Carl and I are light sleepers and good shots.” “You carry a revolver, then?” “No; but I keep one in my tent, and so does Loder.” There was the merest suggestion of a sigh that sounded like relief from the man with the cigar. “Well, I’m glad to know that. I never monkeyed much with guns, soI wouldn’t be of much use in a scrap like that. We’ll have to depend on you and Carl if those fellows come back.” Her face was . Adventure Ward laughed easily. He felt like crying out in open derision at this labored attempt to deceive him. He was sorely tempted to exclaim, “Oh, quit it, Blaydon'! I know you are the head of that gang.” But he waited patiently to see how far this acting would go. ‘You think they are likely to come back, then?” he asked. “T do,” said Blaydon emphatically. “TI met a fellow today—while I was fishing. Queer old chap, he was.~- Lives in a shack back in the woods somewhere. . He tells me there is a gang of beach-combers around here—you know, fellows who rob wrecked ships and shipwrecked people and all that sort of thing. I suppose they found out that you had hauled up a good-looking ‘yacht, and they figure she’s worth having for her fittings and things. You couldn’t describe these men to me, could you?” There was a touch of anxiety in the tone — that was not lost upon Fenton. “No,” the aviator replied. “I did not see them. But Phil Conway can give you a very complete description when he gets back.” “Oh, yes. Certainly. By the way, when do you expect him? Did you wire him that I would appreciate it if he would come down here at once.’ “Yes; I wired him last night. John Drummond took my message to Sea View, with orders to wait for an answer.” ‘And John’s not back yet? Not worried about him, are you?” “Oh, no. Phil might not get my wire until tonight. He has probably been rush- ing all around New York today. John ought to get back in the morning.” “Good. I’d be obliged if you’d let me know what Conway’s plans are. I’m espe- “cially anxious to have a good talk with him about—well, about all these things.” He paused, and even in the dim light Fenton could see that he was fidgeting un- easily. “You say Phil saw the fellows, eh?” he finally asked. ON pat? “Plainly? That is, plainly enough to identify them if he ever saw them again?” The man seemed fairly writhing under the torture of this unaccustomed mental effort. “Yes, indeed. Why? Do you want him to describe them to you?” : (E) JOO =) a (E@)