Pulp Fiction, 1923 · page 44 of 176
Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 44: what you’re looking at
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a4 “Then line up aft here. What’s that?” Dunn shot the words at him. ‘“ What do you mean?” The rogue merely grinned. He eyed the shotgun Dunn had found behind the hatch venomously. ‘‘ Come on, spit it out!” Dunn snapped: ‘ What’s the matter?” The sailor winked at him, like a huge one-eyed toad blinking in the sun. ‘‘ Me’n me mates here is honest seamen; we'll spill the beans fer a divvy, eh?” Dunn felt sure Ross had not attacked the yacht merely for revenge, or in an attempt at piracy. What then was his object in attacking at alle? Twentieth century sea- villainy had its limits, and a sort of later day piracy was one of them. Unable to find a reason for the innuendo he decided it was bluff, pure and simple. He called for Ah Jung; no answer came. Fitz had come to and was calling the muster, AH Jung was missing. Dunn was casting about for some way to prevent these men from causing more trouble. “What 71] we do, Fitz?” he asked. “‘ We can’t tie them up or sink the Mary; we can’t kill them; how the devil are we going to make sure they don’t make more mis- chief?” “ Take away their diving gear,” Fitz sug- gested finally. “ That ’ll take the stingers out of them.” “Good! That would discourage any one,’ Dunn answered, Then he stopped. ‘“ Damn it! That was why Ross attacked us! Where’s our own gear?” He supple- mented his question by a hurried rush to the stern where the motor sailer had been moored with the diving apparatus covered by a tarpaulin. ‘It’s gone!” he shouted to Fitz. ‘The boat’s gone, with the gear in it! Holy mackerel, Fitz, lock these birds up in the storeroom and then dash over to the Mary and get her gear. Put a guard over them and throw in some first aid packages. They’ve scuttled the motor sail- er! I’m going to teach that fellow Ross some of the Christian virtues!” He turned to race forward again. ence met him. “Jung is adrift out there in the boat. I saw him and another Chinaman fighting.” Flor- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘She pointed to the motor sailer, now about a mile away, in the grip of the current, “Thanks!” he panted. “I’m off in the spare dory to see what the trouble is; maybe Jung still has the gear.” He jumped into the boat, started the en- gine, and with a rapid roar, shot away and headed for the drifting boat. When he reached it he found the imper- turbable Ah Jung sitting on the chest of his adversary. The prone Chinaman had his head stuck into a five-gallon gasoline can, the end having been cut out in the shape of a serrated collar. If the prisoner moved, he ran the risk of having his throat cut by the sharp edges. Jung had tied his thumbs together behind his back. “Him velly bad Chinaman, Cap’n Bill. Him t’ief, steal log; velly bad.” Dunn released the frightened Celestial from his improvised prison, and lashed him to the sailing thwart. When they had taken the motor sailer’s painter to the stern of ‘the dory, Dunn towed the heavy craft through the water toward the Olympia. He found that Fitz had taken several men and had removed the Mary’s diving gear to the yacht. “We'll just keep their stuff until we re- turn to Colon,” Dunn said. ‘ Now we'll put them in the hoosgow along with their spy.” “And while we are about it,” Fitz sug- gested, “we might as well get the Mary off our hands. She has a gasoline kicker aboard; Tl put a couple of my men on her and place Leavitt in command. He can take her to Colon and turn her over to the United States marshall to await action. Besides, that will remove any temptation of that gang of hooligans to try an escape with her.” “ Fair enough,” Dunn agreed. ‘ She’d be a nuisance here for us to care for. Send "em off right away, the quicker the better!” They called Leavitt, the chief mate of the Olympia, and he detailed three men to man the Mary and take her into port. After they had checked on the fuel for the kicker, food and stores Leavitt waved to them from the stern, and she slowly forged ahead and away to the northeastward. Dunn inspected the imprisoned men. GOmicsoo S (C@)