Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

a PROTECTING PRUE. “ Over her head,” he whispered. ‘““'Yes—sure!”’ breathed Richard. “ You hold her while I find Wayne and—” “Say!” Mr. Greer murmured, and the ferocity of his expression was such as to send apart even the lips of the infatuated Mr. Flynn. “My job’s capturing that damned young one and taking her home! You can stay aboard if you want to, once { get her into that motorboat, and cook Armstruther and eat him. But if you crab this with your Wayne stuff I’ll choke your fool head off! Now shut up and give me a hand if I need it.” And still the younger daughter of the house of Severn, in all her fancied security, read on. And Bartley Greer, lightly as any cat, tiptoed on and on toward her. He was fifteen feet away now and she had not turned; he was five feet away—and still she had not movecr her head. So near that he could easily have touched her without reaching out, Bartley paused and grinned. He poised, eyes darting all about for an instant. Even now the three were still quite alone on the Myrma’s after deck. And he raised the coat and deftly threw it over Prue’s busy little head and drew it tight. From beneath the garment came a small and muffled squeal of terror and amazement. The slim form thrust up two hands and sought in vain to tear away the coat, and then partly rose and strove blind- ly to give battle. Young Mr. Greer laughed gayly and caught it up with one great swoop! His 915 powerful arms wound about the girl, pin- ning her own arms fast. She kicked vicious- ly—and without ceremony one of the arms included Prue’s legs in its grasp. Entirely helpless, securely trussed as she could have been with ropes, the form ceased its strug- gling. Aad still not a soul aboard the $iicia had offered interference. Near the rail, obviously unaware of the daring business that was going forward, the scowling Richard Flynn shaded his eyes and peered down the decks. ‘“* Signal that fellow to bring the boat alongside the ladder again, Dick,” Bartley snapped es oh eS “And then go over the side first and be ready to steady me. This little devil may begin to fight again and—well, what in Hades is the matter with you now?” ‘‘ The—the matter?” Richard gasped as he leaned over the rail and turned his peer- ing gaze far, far astern, over the black waters. “ Well, say! Certainly that’s him! Do you hear his engine? He—he’s going back without us, Bart!” And now he pointed, and Bartley, him- self pressed against the rail with his bur- den tight clutched, assisted with the peer- ing—and there was really no way at all of controverting the obvious truth. Far away now, becoming farther away with the passing ‘of every ‘second, his fa- miliar lights bobbing, his familiar roar growing ever more faint, their motorboat driver was taking his borrowed craft back to its proper anchorage. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK U U INCOMPATIBILITY O#: the pulse and the throb of a business career, The anger, resentment, the greed, and the fear; ‘No wonder he sighs for the fireside at night, ‘With the glow of the grate and the warm, shaded light. But the fireside—the millions of housekeeping cares, The sameness that harries, the dullness that wears; No wonder she longs at the end of the day To thrill with the throng on the Great White Way. Jane Burr. CoOMmiclbooks.€©