Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

TEN Their walk had drawn them into the cheaper quarter of the town. Squalid buildings squatted on deep-driven piles. A host of native children shrieked and screamed at play. The native tomtoms had begun their evening racket. They were in the heart of the neighborhood be- fore Dunn turned to the right and halted before an unimposing structure of two sto- ries. A sign, printed in Spanish, told the weary wayfarer that it was the home of honesty and fair play, good will and right- eousness. The building itself seemed to shout a denial. The children that played about the door resembled small editions of satanic devultry. A sharp-eyed Spanish woman glanced at them suspiciously. When Dunn and Fitz had disappeared up the rickety stairs, she scuttled rapidly to the rear and hissed some- thing at two men. Chairs scraped—a curse sounded in English, and a door opened and closed silently. Two men faded into the gathering dusk. Dunn led the way toward his room. The door stood open a trifle. He strode inside. Crumpled against the bed lay the still form of Ah Jung, a deep gash along the side of his head. His hand grasped the empty leather cover of the logbook. “Quick, Fitz—help me lift him up.” Dunn grasped Jung’s head and shoulders in his arms. Fitz assisted, and they put the Chinaman on the straw-covered bed. A pitcher yielded water; FitzGerald’s white shirt served as a bandage, and in a few minutes Ah Jung was sitting erect. “What happened, Jung?” Dunn queried, holding aloft the empty cover of the log- book. ‘‘ Who attacked you? The log is Ah Jung essayed a foot on the floor be- fore speaking. “ Plenty devil knockem hell slam bang! Logbook fly away plenty quick!” He steadied himself. ‘And that puts the kibosh on my little scheme,” Dunn added gloomily. ‘I can’t remember the position to save my life. As usual, I get the muddy end of the stick.” “Plenty mo’ sticks, Cap’n Bill,” Jung said philosophically. ‘‘ Me catchem look- see that damn Vief man. You an’ Missa FitzGe'ld get all fixee. Ah Jung see Wing FATHOMS DOWN. 19 Lo, all same tong man. That t’ief man make monkey business wit” buzzsaw. Goo’- by! .) With that, calm, imperturbabie Ah Jung turned and slipped noiselessly down - the stairs. When Dunn and FitzGerald got below, he had disappeared. “Funny Chink,” Fitz commented. “ Ill bet the thief will think he fell into a buzz- saw before Jung gets through with him. Strikes me he has a tremendous amount of self-reliance.’’ 3 “ He has,” Dunn put in. “ I don’t know what I would do without him. You know, Fitz, that yellow-skinned heathen possesses something that I lack. Somehow or other, he seems to drive me on, like a gasoline en- gine. It wasn’t three years ago that I met him in the New Hebrides. I was in a blue funk, ready to become a tramp, a dope fiend, when he jolted me out of it. Since then he has always been behind me, driving me on. I think he would tackle the whole Panama police force, machine guns and all, if it would help me any. Black-water fever “pot me once, and when I got out of it I found Ah Jung at my side, delirious him- self. Every one else had fled. That yel- low, godless Chink stuck it out with me. Semehow, the feeling that has grown up between us is bigger than just brotherhood. He’s been a pal—everything that a lot of white men I know couldn’t be.” Dunn stopped speaking, and they walked on in silence toward the hotel and dinner. Somehow, FitzGerald felt that he knew this impulsive, free-hearted man alongside of him better. He felt a little better him- self—as if a mental weight had been lifted from his mind. He resolved to tell Flor- ence of it. His sister, he knew, would un- derstand it better than he. Yet Fitz thought that Dunn relied too much on his Chinese servant. In spite of his adventurous calling of filibustering and gun running, Dunn still depended on Ah Jung for things that should have been nat- ural for him to do alone. Dunn was the sort of chap that needed some one to give him a shove now and then; lacking this, his type went to the gutter. His nature was loving; his natural caution hidden in a blaze of belief in his fellow creatures. LI GOmMmiGsvoOoks=co