Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

The Secret of Caprice Fenton straightened and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Ves,” he said evenly, “you might.” Then, as he saw the frightened look that followed his words, he added with a forced smile, “‘But of course I know you did not.” ON 0; of course not,’’ Blaydon agreed em- phatically. “Of course not. Why should I —eh? I’m as anxious to get these fellows cleaned out as you can be, for, first thing you know, they’ll come down here and strip Caprice before I can make arrangements to sell her.’ Of course I wouldn’t do such a thing on purpose. I was badly rattled— that’s all.” He strolled uneasily about the tent, as if trying to make up his mind what to say next, his lips moving constantly as he mut- tered to himself. At length he planted him- self before them with his hands in his pock- ets. “Anything broken?” he asked. “No,” Ward answered. “You can fly her again?”’ “Without the slightest difficulty.” rt 4 —— Blaydon pursed his lips in deep thought, and then, with a shrug of his shoulders, turned and walked over to the flap. “Well,”’ he said, ‘I guess you don’t need me any more. I’ll go aboard the yacht and see if I can get some sleep after all the ex- citement. Good night.” “Good night,’ Ward responded without enthusiasm. “And say—” Blaydon half turned to re- enter—‘‘for Heaven’s sake, quit getting so huffy with me, won’t you? I’m not a bad sort—just excitable and easily rattled and all that. You see, I’ve never figured in any- thing like this before. Fact is, I didn’t know such things really happened. You just hold your horses and we’ll get along all right.” He waited for an answer, but Ward busied himself about the machine. “Well, good night,” said Blaydon. “Good night,” muttered Ward from un- der the plane. They heard his heavy footsteps go crunching down the sand. Then Carl came over and held out a five-dollar bill to Ward. “You give that back to him, Chief, will your” he asked. “TI don’t understand this whole thing, but I can tell from the way you acted that he had something to do with this tonight. And if he had, he’s a crook, 4 53 and I don’t take money from crooks.” Ward smiled at the lad’s earnestness. “Keep it until I find out a little more about him,” he advised. ‘“To give it back to him now would be equivalent to calling him a crook to his face, and I am not ready to do that yet. Let’s get to bed now with- out any more discussion. I expect to learn more in the morning.” Fenton was certain that the new day would bring Nellie Blaydon to him. After what had taken place on Caprice, and with her knowledge that Ward’s suspicions had been aroused, she would feel it necessary to talk with him, if for. no other reason than to try to explain it all in a way that would make her uncle’s actions seem less culpable. SHE came to him in the morning as he was pacing thoughtfully up and down the shore. He saw her walk- ing slowly through the trees about the tents, her head bent dejectedly, her fine shoulders drooping with a weight of care that seemed to be too much for her to bear. Her steps - lagged dispiritedly. She glanced up and saw him standing hat in hand waiting for her, but she gave no sign of recognition beyond a slight straightening of the shoulders, as though she did not want him to see the depression that bore her down He held out his hand to her and she placed hers in it, limp and lifeless and cold. The feel of her flesh shocked him with its chill. It told of a system away below par, of blood lagging sluggishly in the veins, of lack of vi- tality verging almost upon collapse. In her eyes as she looked up at him he : read the tragic story of her sleepless night. They were dulled with the film of worry and unrest, drawn into lines of suffering and unhappiness. His heart went out to her in sympathy for the pain he saw. “T knew that you would come,” he said. “But you could have spared yourself the ordeal if you had wished.” She glanced up questioningly. “Spared myself?” she asked. “T afraid the time has passed for me to think of sparing myself. After last night——” He held up a protesting hand. “Miss Blaydon,” he said earnestly, “last night is dead and forgotten so far as I am concerned. You need not speak of it.” She tried bravely to force a smile. - “You are kind,” she said, “but I am am sf ‘ sty et if ‘ye is y Py, 2 /¥ : Py OO ae PIN Oe a ae a Se ee eet ee ees, © t =e abe ae 424 owe a i & ' 4 i - ? i : er RS PRPC aT T® & Pee eet Gomichooks () econ =} y A Mh SP a