Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

TEN Wild, easy going, generous—it had been a hard job at college to get him to buckle down to work. Some part of this indiffer- ence was due to the accomplished wiles of a chorus girl. Bill had fallen madly in love with her, swore to marry her on his graduation day, and in the meantime, to work like blazes to finish. His infatuation died, fortunately, just before the last days of his senior year. Fitz did not know whether he wanted his sister to become in- terested in Dunn or not. After a minute’s cogitation he smiled. His likes and dislikes were of small moment to her. After all, he thought, all Bill Dunn needed was some one to work for. Something to add an impetus to his indolent nature; and judging from the way Bill was teaching a certain young lady to shoot, Florence was just that im- petus. Fitz was thirty—five years older than Florence. His life, since attaining his ma- jority, had been one long pursuit by cap- setting women. All with an eye on the im- mense fortune of the FitzGeralds. He had no fears that Bill Dunn was fortune hunt- ing. Bull had lost several fortunes buying champagne at a hundred dollars a bottle in the Klondike, purchasing gold bricks in New York, and showing a lot of Kanaka kids in Honolulu a good time diving for gold pieces. No, Bill was totally blind when it came to wealth. Bill, Fitz could plainly see, was more in need of long, manly arms just at present—two didn’t seem to be enough. Bill’s attention was distracted by the sud- den and wild appearance of the Olympia’s Chinese steward, Joy Ling, who came flee- ing and yelling down the deck, That hatch at Dunn’s elbow disgorged the savage, dis- heveled form of Ah Jung in deadly pur- suit. Dunn sprinted and caught the en- raged Jung by the collar and demanded an explanation. Jung reluctantly submitted to being led aft before speaking. “ Him ”’—Jung pointed at the cringing form of Joy Ling in Fitz’s grasp—‘“ him pigtailed chink—make monkey business wit’ Cap’n Bill’s oom. Him plenty say no my business to fixee yo’ clothes. Say no my business fixee yo’ razoh.” Jung’s manner was most dramatic, as if he was denouncing FATHOMS DOWN. 23 a traitor, exposing a murderer. Ah Jung did not understand. This base son of a flower boat keeper, this offspring of a sam- pan coolie had defiled his Cap’n Bill’s clothes by touching them. This wart, and son of a wart, had interfered with his— Jung’s—most solemn duty—that of cleaning his Cap’n Bill’s razor. For such, Jung recommended that he be boiled in. oil, ham- strung, bastinadoed, and then hung on the foretruck for the gulls to pick. Dunn, with a well hidden grin, solemnly warned both miscreants that a second row between them would result in both of them being expelled to the depths of the ship to shovel coal. They returned below, casting black looks at each other. Further complications threatened to de- velop at luncheon, when one of the Chinese boys tried to remove Dunn’s plate. This, Jung had always done when the finances of this curious pair permitted. No base. interloper was going to interfere. Even Dunn’s most glassy stare failed to affect the angered Jung. He wished it to be known that he was the slave of Cap’n Bill Dunn. This, then, was Ah Jung’s method of forcing the indolent, easy going Bill Dunn toward better things. The force that kept him from the gutter. By debasing himself, Ah Jung forced Dunn to keep himself above the level of his servant. Dunn’s checkered career lay before his meeting with the cun- ning Ah Jung, the servant who loved his master enough to debase himself to make a scaffold of his own life so that his Cap’n Bill might rise to better things. Vhen temptation came to Dunn, Ah Jung was there, a living question mark, a torch that showed the way. Jung made it his business.to see that he was present. Dunn took a watch that afternoon and spent it on the bridge gazing aft at a cool, slim figure under the awning in a steamer chair, instead of looking dead ahead. as all wide-awake watch officers should do. He felt rather ashamed of himself. His mind, in spite of him, went back to the days before he met Ah Jung. He tried to bury his thoughts in a longi- tude problem by Marcq. St. Hilaire. After a fruitless hour’s mentai anguish, he found oO COMmMicloOoKs (S@