All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 84: what you’re looking at

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74 chocolate boxes and the mending materials had a shelf to themselves, not because they were mementoes of Captain Teach, but be- cause they were useful. Captain Teach’s two cases of loot she hid elsewhere, and wondered if he would tor- ture her after the manner of his kind, tf he arrived and found them missing. Be it well understood though, at this time she told herself repeatedly she had thrown Teach off the scent. But then Teach was so detestably clever that you never could be sure. Three days she had spent on Maryland Cay too busy housebuilding to be either frightened or lonely, and then had arrived Mr. Halton Ghyll. Now Mr. Ghyll was a good-looking, fair man of rather the barber’s block type, and women liked him. Possibly they liked him for his outward charms, possibly for his lit- tle ways, possibly because he was a fashion- able architect; I am not analyzing the reason, but merely reporting fact. As a consequence, he had that assured — way with women which those sort of men always acquire. Presumably the bulk of women like it. Mary Arncliffe did not. Mary resented, him from the moment she pulled him out of the surf, where he did so little to help himself. Ghyll was an architect, certainly, but prided himself on not being a vulgar builder. Consequently, after stumbling about some time in the dark over the sand dunes~he at last sat down and promptly dropped off to sleep. He awoke with a headache, and a red nose, and blown sand in every fraction of his person. He was savage against Teach, he was savage against Ogden Brearley, but, unreasonably enough, he was most savage of all againse the young woman in the white satin knickerbockers and the ragged upper garment who had the impudence to intro- duce herself to him, of all men, as ‘‘ Miss Bahama.” With a vast experience at the back of him, he had every intention of teaching her a lesson. First, however, it was necessary to find her, and gs there were no sign posts on Maryland, and he lacked the instinct of direction, this entailed a weary plod among ALL-STORY WEEKLY. sandy wastes, where resting seafowl re- sented his intrusion with noisy vigor. <A tang of wood smoke in the air gave him the required hint when he was nearly drop- ping with tiredness. “This morning,” said Mary * Arncliffe, ‘“T will put up the breakfast. Afterward, it will be your job to do the hunting. Also, the wood gathering. '“T shouldn’t bite into that baked egg all at once, if I were you, unless you are fond of chickens. Divide it with your thumbs first, and then you can see if it is likely to be too rich for you.” “ Ugh!” said Halton Ghyll, and flung the egg violently over a hill of the sand. ‘“ Give me that other egg, please, which you were going to eat yourself. I may say, these kids’ tricks do not amuse me.”’ “Certainly, Mr. Ghyll. Here’s a second egg; the one, as you politely guessed, I was going to eat myself. And that’s the end of your ration.” ‘““Unless I want more.” ‘““If you want more,” said his hostess dryly, “you won’t get it at my table. You'll have to forage for it yourself at the end of Maryland I assigned to you, and cook it.” ‘“'You’ve eggs there. I shall take what I want.” ‘““ Now, here’s news!” said Mary Arn- _cliffe. ““When.do you propose to begin?” Mr. Halton Ghyll, it appeared, was a lawn-tennis player of note, and his rush was a quick one. So also was his halt. So also was his retreat. “You needn’t run away any farther,” Miss Arncliffe informed him, “if you will learn to behave yourself like a—well, shall we say a reasonable member of society?” “Tm bleeding horribly. You just missed my eye with that stab.” “Sorry. It was your eye I aimed for. You've the weight, you see, Mr. Beast, and I won’t let you come to close quarters.” “There is a Richardson’s skua’s nest be- hind you that the owner has ceased to oc- cupy. Please sit in it. Do you hear me, Mr. Ghyll? Sit in that nest, or ll jab you again. “Thank you. Just so. And stay there. You are safer at moorings. comiclboolk C©