Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

a Tides of Hate’ 4, “Flush, girl,” she said. There was soothing in the words, but metallic hardness in the tomes. WNell’s eyes flashed fire as they sought to fix the averted glance of the pirate. ‘‘Hush, girl,” she repeated. “TI shall be with you, and naught shall happen to ye while I’m by.” John Cook laughed gratingly. “Don’t fool yerself, Nell. I have better work for ye than nursing fretful wenches. You stay behind in Aves, my lass, to guard our interests here. I have no room for such as you, since ye must be treated as a man, by Satan! Nor is there room for such as Steve Carr, who grows insolent in his looks, though the dog’s afraid to let’s tongue wag insolence.”’ “What? I stay here, alone with Carr?” panted the woman. © Her fingers gripped the haft of her knife nervously. “Not alone, my pretty pirate,” Cook laughed. ‘‘Ye’ll have the poor devils we took from the brig for company. Ye'll have Rando and Doggett “Devil! Swine!” screamed Nell, leaped upon him with uplifted knife. see the blood o’ your heart first!’’ Cook grappled with her ,as he would with a man, sparing nothing of fury in his countet-attack, for too many times he had seen Nell Clark meet and kill her man in equal combat. Now with a steely grip on her knife wrist he forced her head back with an elbow under her chin until her neck must break or her grip on the knife relax. Cursing him like the profanest of his ras- cals, Nell dropped the weapon, and he let her fall to the floor. Then he picked up her knife, stuck it in his belt and left the hut, calling back with evil mirth: “Be ready in an hour, little pigeon. I'll send Goliath for ye. Look over your new command, Nell, and you'll be waving me a cheery farewell ete, At the shore he found work suspended, and a roaring mob of pirates milling about and nat Ed | a fierce conflict going on inside the circle. The tall figure of Davies towered above the rest; and to him Cook forced his way. “What in the ’s name’s this?” he demanded. The two men fighting were past recog- nition. Armed with long knives, they had already slashed and sliced each other out of human semblance; from forehead to waist faces and bodies were crisscrossed 19 with cuts; the ground was a trampled red shambles under their tottering feet. Still they fought with the silent savagery of dogs in a death grip. — “Who is it?” persisted Cook, gripping Davies by the arm. “You promoted two o’ your men,” laughed Davies amusedly. ‘“‘See how they value your honors. ’Tis Ortega and Blink.” “Fighting for the command, hey?” chuck- led Cook. ‘I knew they’d see the advan- tage of it.” “No, they fight to avoid taking that crazy sloop,” retorted Davies, ‘‘and Lord knows I have no blame for ’em. But how they’re to square things by killing each other’s a puzzle ees for me, too, for if one kills t’other, which seems likely, the loser wins, since he can’t take the command he’s fought to avoid.” Cook drew his cutlas and burst into the red ring. “Belay, Ortega! D’ye hear me?” He ran to interpose his cutlas between the men; but he was too late. With the first sound he had uttered, a little snarl of victory, Ortega drove his knife haft-deep down inside Blink’s collarbone. Blink sobbed out a bitter curse and stumbled to his knees, clutching at the spouting wound. But with his expiring spasm he drove his own blade upward in a fierce ripping stroke, and Ortega fell across him, disem- boweled: victor and vanquished merged in one red, undistinguishable heap of carrion for the crows of Aves to fight over. “Now to find another captain,” laughed Davies. “Commands are going a-begging. How about it, lads? Who says for a cap- tain’s.share in the west coast venture along o’ John Cook?” ‘“Ha’ done with jesting!” cried Cook, sheathing his cutlas with a crash. ‘“‘ ’Tis easy to settle. Are my men on board, Davies?” ‘All save the giant negro. He’s going up to your hut now. I put half a score o’ good men among your crew to make into offi- cers.” “And your sloop?” “My crew is on board. The rest are divided among the two greater craft left, but are fighting over the division yet, if ears tell anything. ’Tis the small sloop where lies the trouble. None want her, whether with captain’s share or boy’s.” Enough o’ this, Blink! CONMUC DOOKS (C@