Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

80 “Come along; T’ll show you around,’ said Stort. ‘Your things? The boys will look after them.” He led Bruce up the beach, past high- water and the two go-downs, or sheds, which housed the ‘‘trade” of the island, through several hundred yards of blooming tropical garden, and showed him, upon slightly higher and open ground, a verandaed shack with a corrugated-iron roof, which was the Moorabal residence of the T-T agent. He entered with Bruce, and helped himself to the T-T gin, while the other inspected the one room of his new home. Next he led Bruce to a verandaed shack with a corrugated-iron roof, a hundred yards distant, which was the headquarters in Moorabal of the Queensland Trading Com- pany and the home of Stort, its agent. He pressed Q-T gin upon Bruce and helped himself to the liquor, while Bruce, the un- tasted draft in his hand, stared round-eyed at the strange-looking creature who squat- ted in a corner and peered slant-eyed at him. She was young and comely and light- brown in color, and her only apparel was a bright green cloth that was wound about her and fell from her bosom to her knees. By her color she was half-caste, by her great, spreading bush of hair she was a Tor- res Straits hybrid and by her presence in the room she was an offense in Alec Bruce’s unacclimated eyes. “That?” said Stort, noticing Bruce’s gaze. ‘“That’s Marua—my Mary.” He leaned forward in his chair and leered un- pleasantly at the impassive woman and then at Bruce. There was in his voice the first note of animation Bruce had observed. “Say—not half-bad, eh?” he demanded of Bruce. ‘‘She’s one part white and six parts devil, but a looker—what! I won her from Botts, of the pearling fleet, last Mel- bourne Cup. Yes, sir—four dozen Johnny Walker against the woman, Blue Spec to win! Pretty good, eh?” “Oh!’? commented Bruce. But there was that in his voice and face which started Stort’s pendulous lip to quiv- ering, and caused the sullen light to grow again in his reddened eyes. “Look here—don’t get uppish, young fel- ler!’ he exclaimed violently. ‘‘We all get Marys up here. It’s the custom—see?”’ “T meant no offense; why, I said nothing,”’ said Bruce hastily. “You looked so moral,”’ grumbled Adventure Stort, his vehemence of voice departing as suddenly as it had come. He reached for the bottle, discovered it empty and turned upon the girl. ‘‘A fresh one,” he said. Obediently Marua arose and went to a cupboard in the farther corner of the room. Bruce followed her with sympathetic and interested eyes. There was such a golden, velvety sheen to her flesh, she moved with such instinctive, sinuous grace—she was like imprisoned sunlight in this gloomy in- terior, thought Bruce. She was so obviously a wild thing, a creature of the jungle, like a brilliant bird, or—a brilliant snake. At the cupboard Marua obtained the liquor, extracted the cork with an expert dispatch that bespoke much practise and brought the bottle to the table. Then she resumed her position on the floor, squatting behind her master’s chair in the corner. Stort’s voice interrupted his train of thought, and “when he removed his gaze from the girl, Bruce was somewhat startled to discover the Q-T man studying him with narrow-lidded, intense eyes. “Look here—no poaching!” said Stort. *““Marua is my woman; you can’t have her— see?” Bruce felt his cheeks warming. “T assure you, nothing was farther from my thoughts—”’ he began. “Well, I wanted you to know,” inter- rupted Stort. ‘“‘She’s mine, fair, square and above-board, and nobody can take her from me—nobody! And if she looks at you—I’ll take it out of her hide!” @2,|BRUCE got angry. There was a # a savage vindictiveness in the other’s ware voice that affected him like a nau- seous draft, and Stort’s words were in- sult. They embarrassed and humiliated him. He stole a pitying glance at the girl; but she apparently was untroubled by her lord’s threat, for not a flicker of emotion was visible in her face. “T don’t like that talk!’ he told Stort shortly. He got to his feet and turned to the door. “I want some fresh air; I’m going outside,” he added. But not so easily was Bruce shut of Stort. The man was on his heels almost immedi- ately, somewhat boorishly apologetic m manner, and eager, he said, to show Bruce the rest of Moorabal. Bruce was very anxious to be as good friends as possible Jf ar) Ste gs oO COmicloo N ) CO