All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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168 turning far enough to cruise back in her own wake. Hér new course was almost at a right angle to that she had been following, and she seemed bent upon pursuing it briskly. . Pete gasped and leaped to his feet. ‘* Come on!”’ he cried. The rocky promontory that sheltered one end of their little beach was cutting off a view of the yacht. He raced along the strip of sand, with Mary at his heels, quite un- conscious of her missing skirt and certainly a gainer in freedom of movement through the lack of it. Pete climbed the rocks at reckless speed and she followed him, heedless of the rough places. He was poised rigidly on an emi- nence as she scrambled up beside him. ‘¢ Damnation!” He said it so fervently that it seemed to Mary the most sincere word he had ever spoken. “Do you see what they’re doing?” he cried, seizing her arm.- “ Look! They’re heading out of the harbor!” “You mean they’re leaving us?” He shook her arm almost savagely. “Can’t you see? There they go. T hey’ re headed out, I tell you. They’re going out into the Sound! ” The yacht seemed to be gaining in speed. ‘“ But I just can’t believe it,” she said, in a stifled voice. ‘You'd better, then. Look!” “But I’m sure that Mr. wouldn’t—”’ ‘“‘Oh, you are, are you? Well, I'll prove to you in about one holy minute that he'll do whatever comes into his crazy head. Take your last look. They’re on their way.” Nor had they long to wait in order to be convinced beyond argument. Even at the distance that separated them from the Sun- shine they could see the white bone in her teeth as she continued to pick up speed. And then she was gone, beyond a jutting point that barred their vision. Pete looked at Mary. Mary looked at Pete. Both looked again toward the spot where they caught their last glimpse of the Sunshine. Then, with one accord and with- out speech, they slowly descended to the Marshall said, coldly. ALL-STORY WEEKLY, beach and sat in the sand. A thin, blue cloud of rage seemed to have descended upon them. Minutes afterward she flung a handful of sand at an innocent darning needle that was treading air directly in front of her. ‘““Oh, say something!” she cried. ‘‘You’d censor it, Mile. Secretary.” “IT wouldn’t!” Pete lifted his eyes to the heavens and swore horribly. ‘“‘ That’s better,” she said. needn’t do it any more. going to do?” ‘Wait for the commander-in-chief to get over his practical joke, I suppose.” ‘“‘ Then, this is your idea of a joke, is it?” “Not mine; his,” said Pete. ‘ And it’s not so bad, at that.” Mary tried to wither him with a look. “1 believe you don’t care,” she said, “ But you Now what are we stormily. ‘Qh, yes, I do. But I’m all over the rage part of it. What’s the use?”’ “Well, think of something, then.” “IT don’t think it even requires thinking. What is there to do but sit here and wait?” Mary gritted her teeth. “That may be all right for you,” she “ But it seems absolutely fu- tile to me. We don’t know whether they'll ever come back.” ® ‘“‘ Oh, they’re bound to.” “They're not, anything of the kind! He’s done it deliberately; I’m sure of it. I wish I had him here for about two min- utes.” “T wish you had,” said Pete, earnestly. “Yd pay for a grand stand seat.”’ “T’d tell him what I think of him.” “You sure would.” “T never felt so helpless in my life. Al! I’m doing is getting sunburned. I'll be a fright.”’ ‘Tf it’s freckles you’re worrying about, he likes ’em.” ‘Oh, don’t talk about them.” She had a sudden craving for a mirror. But be yond that boyish bathing suit and the scar- let rubber cap, Mary did not even possess so much as a hairpin. She would have given a million dollars for a kimono and a vanity bag. comiclboolk C©