Adventure Magazine Cover — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

108 It did, of course. It pretty well took my breath away, as the saying is. I stood for a bit and stared at my distinguished-looking visitor. British without doubt—sticking to his quid with a fine contempt for the French monetary system. What was his game? No pearl scouts offered such fares. And he wanted to go aboard my boat. Pretty quickly my in- terest in the man himself was bigger than my interest in the price he offered. I said: “The Paumotus are spread over a good deal of ocean. Each schooner calls at only afew. I suppose you’ve posted yourself on my beat. I wouldn’t go off——” “Of course not. I know. The run is an out-of-the-way one. That’s why I came to you. One of-the islands I wish particularly to call at, captain, is Vailua.”’ He said it with the same calm matter-of- factness he had exhibited throughout, but it hit me like a rifle-ball. Vailua! The first white man that had ever asked me for passage there! I felt what the book-writing crew call a “thrill.” I thought of old Greenbie lounging in his wicker chair, so placid and yet so dis- turbing—to me, at least—of his blue eyes that seemed so frank, yet baffled you with their very openness. My man was lighting a rich cigar, and he offered me a second. “T suppose you know there’s only one white man on Vailua,” I said. “His name is Greenbie—Horace Greenbie. You-——” The bearded man nodded his head. “It is Mr. Greenbie that I wish to see at Vailua.”’ “All right; I’ll take you,” I agreed, break- ing my rule in such matters. ‘“‘You’ll have to take what I’ve got. The Dolphin sails at six day after tomorrow morning.” He thanked me and went away. I climbed back on deck, and I had plenty to fuddle my mind. It occurred to me that the bearded man hadn’t even told me his name. When he came aboard at daybreak two days later I asked him, and he gave it to me—Stanley Maynard. And for a right good while his name and his passage money were about all he did give me. But it was the fine season, and the nights were starry and the air pretty heady for these latitudes; and after a while Mr. May- nard got to coming on deck and sitting alongside the wheel while I stood the eight- to-midnight watch. 3 We chit-chatted about this and that and Adventure never said anything in particular. Then one night when our cigars were going good he asked because of nothing— “Ever do any pearl-buying, captain?” I felt another mild thrill. I would soon have Mr. Maynard classified. But I was going to be disappointed if he turned out the usual thing in pearl-buyers. “Oh, a little,” I said; “nothing to amount to anything. It’s no business for us skippers any more. The professional buyers rua the market, and they get on the ground first. They lend the native money against the next season’s diving, and they’ve got about every pearl worth having mortgaged before it’s ever fished out.” “Umm! Ever buy any from Mr. Greenbie on Vailua?” “T think you must have the place down wrong,’ I told him. ‘“Vailua’s not a pearl- fishing island. Nothing worth having’s been got out of the lagoon there in years. Noth- ing in Greenbie’s time. Greenbie has a shell business.”’ “You say pearls were once found there, though?” ‘“‘“A few—mediocre ones.” Then I decided it was time to take the bit in my own teeth. “Were you figuring on doing any buying in the group?” I asked. It was a slip. Mr. Maynard drew in his head, said carelessly, “Oh—it’s hardly probable,” switched the talk hastily to distances between islands, and pretty soon shut up and went below. And that was the way things stood when we ran into the lagoon at Vailua the next afternoon and dropped the hook. I HAD some supplies for Greenbie, ' part of which we loaded into the whaleboat. Among them was an- other of those little wooden boxes with the French trade-marks. I saw Mi. Maynard eying it curiously. Presently we made a landing on the beach; and, leaving the boys to unload the boat, I led Mr. Maynard up old Greenbie’s bottle-bordered shell path. “Know Greenbie, do you?” Mr. Maynard shook his head. “T wish you would introduce me, captain. And then if you would——” He hesitated. ‘“‘Well—I’ve a rather private matter to bring up with——”’ (C@) oOOLKK (E@)