Pulp Fiction, 1923 · page 27 of 176
Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 27: what you’re looking at
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TEN FATHOMS DOWN. Jung had said that he thought it damn funny that a rock should hop about all over the ocean. He suggested that they go take a look-see. He had called attention to a schooner, the Moon Glow, that had sunk under similar circumstances some years be- fore. What was it that was eluding Dunn’s memory? Something was dancing tempt- ingly out of reach, elusive and desirable. There was a connection some place. ‘““My ambitions, Jung, right now, are to get good and drunk, and then go over to Coconut Grove and help the rest of the bums raise the roof!” Ah Jung looked at him and announced finally: “ Velly good, Cap’n Bill, catchee num ’ah one ship.” Dunn eyed the smooth-skinned Celestial a moment, then added wearily: “ Yes, I guess you're right, Jung; I can’t even cor- rupt you.” Ah Jung was the throttle on Bill Dunn’s many sided moods. It was Jung that shoul- dered the heaviest burdens—not because Dunn was shirking, but because Ah Jung had a manner of stepping into it and gen- tiy relieving his master of many troubles. He seemed to take a huge delight in worry- ing over Cap’n Bill’s money matters. So smoothly and ‘cleverly did Jung rule Dunn that the white man was hardly aware of it. These lectures on respectability were many and frequent. Dunn took them from Jung as a matter of course. Jung acted as a conscience to him when his indolent mind refused to worry over trifles. The Chinaman made Dunn feel that he was vastly inferior to him. And Dunn was forced to bolster up his own courage to remain a little higher than his servant. Oc- casionally Jung raised his own standard and Bill Dunn was forced to do likewise. Dunn began a systematic search for the elusive something that escaped him. He recalled that the Moon Glow had sunk off the Guiana coast after striking a reef. But where was the something? If she had been loaded to the guards with gold and dia- monds, perhaps there would be— “Holy Moses!” he yelled and. jumped to his feet. ‘‘I have it! I have it! Jung, you yellow ape! Ivory! The Moon Glow 2A 17 had a shipment of it below decks when she sank! I’ve—maybe we’ve found the reef she piled up on. The lost reef. I have the position that we struck in. It’s in the log. The log is in the hotel. Excite- ment. Zowie! Chop-chop back to that hotel and get the logbook before the pro- prietor bends a preventer-lashing on it.” He was shaking the yellow man excitedly. He continued to speak jerkily of the Moon Glow and her treasure. No wonder tongues had been wagging. ‘‘ Make it snappy, Jung!” : But Jung had already disappeared and was slipping rapidly up the street, his body bent forward, and his feet working like snowshoes in the dust. Dunn hesitated only long enough to straighten up his worn clothes, then darted away on a rapid walk for the Avalon Hotel. His mind was in the skies. What luck! Fitz had asked him to take a cruise with them. Here was a ship—a quest that pointed straight toward wealth, and sey- eral weeks’ companionship with a girl that strangely lured him. He collided several times with pedestrians, each time mumbling an apology distractedly. Forgotten were his dreams of raising roofs in Colon’s ten- derloin Coconut Grove. YY. Bitty DUNN found Fitz about to expire with the heat. He sat on a cane chair on the veranda, glowering moodily out over the hot, sun-baked appreach to the hotel. A drink stood at his elbow, with tiny beads of perspiration on the glass. He had de- fied convention and taken off his coat. A native bell hop lolled lazily in the shade of the building. Fitz managed to squeeze a smile for Dunn and sufficient effort to hold out his hand. ‘ You’re a Trojan, Bill. How the deuce do you stand this heat? Florence is in her room panting, while I haven’t enough pep left to pant. I’m slowly melt- ing away.” Dunn dropped into a chair and wiped his forehead. “ Listen, Fitz; you asked me to take a cruise with you. Well, here I am; let’s go!” Com ©) HOOKS. CO