Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

tit | ga? © Pedals & Vey a ort oe Ae er * nt ae = ‘“ “heh, < Laie Fe = we 2 » — ee , ng - : “~~ " Pr Jacqueline recalled the sinister sugges- - tion McCorkle had made about torturing the inmates of the house into divulging the hiding place of the Raiglon treasure. From this at least she could save Cameron. “T have never seen this man before this very moment, monsieur.” This seemed to break a terrific tension. McCorkle lit his pipe and puffed a cloud _ of strong smoke. “ Never seen him afore this—ay? H’m! Well, how come then he wanted to shoot us all down?” “‘He came out of the swamps, monsieur,” the girl said masterfully. “ Probably a devil —such as they say haunts this place.” McCorkle chuckled knowingly. “ Very likely! Except that I had a go with hin— up there on the landin’, and found he was made of flesh and bones and good hard mus- cle. swamps. Oh, yes! He’s a devil, all righto!” _ “ Beggin’ your pardon, capting,” Dorset said in his soft humble voice, “ I don’t want to interrupt. yer conversation with the lydy; but I got some information on that very point. Wing comes to me when I was aboard the lugger, sayin’ as how you want- ed me; I comes, hides behind that ’anging, and I fires at this here gentleman in ques- tion. You know how I shoots, capting. Never misses, I don’t. It’s my opinion that I got him in the mouth—and that it ‘didn’t phase him.” McCorkle bellowed in laughter. “Oh, yuss, larff!” Dorset forgot his hu- mility. ‘But you don’t know wot hap- pened to me afore Wing fetched me. I was on the lugger waitin’ in the mist, when out’n the swamps there comes a pirate like them pictures on the walls. Rises, y’might say, floatin’ toward me. And then, s’help me God, he jumps me! Yuss, devils can tear you up same as any humans. Least- wise this one could. Then bindin’ me ’ands, he goes below, rifles the lockers of car- tridges, comes above, and by that time a fore-and-aft rigged vessel comes sailin’ out’n the dark with the little cove aboard— the snipe as I’ve just locked up behind this door. That’s wot’s happened to me, cap- ting, since I seen you larst. And all-in-all, it looks like wot this here gel says is right. It’s likely he’s a devil outin the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. You’re dealin’ wiv the devil hisself, if I know anything.” | “] ain’t listenin’ to no hophead’s yarn,” McCorkle sneered. “If the man’s cruisin’ around here with that pirate rig on he can trick drunks and women—but not ole Mc- Corkle. He swiped that ammunition from us, did he? Well, I'll do a little swipin’, too. Ill give him a swipe with a bit of lead athwart his guts!” “You can not harm him!” the girl said in a calm voice. “What the hell!” McCorkle cried turn- ing to her. “Can’t harm him—ay? Il show you—” “ He’s invulnerable!” she said. “ Oh, yes! Invulnerable! No doubt about that!”” McCorkle laughed. “But you just look here. Do you see this here hand of mine?” He held up a pistol with the muzzle pointed directly across the table to- ward Cameron’s chest. “ Is my hand trem- bling?” The girl saw the thick leathery skin drawn tightly across his knuckles. A dragon was tattooed on it—writhing in the thick hair. “Not a shiver to that hand, is there, me gal? One little touch of that trigger finger — and your devil sinks back to hell’s fire where he hails from! Look here—are you watchin’?” I squeeze the trigger slow— without movin’ another muscle in me hand! Look at me, I tell you. Why the hell don’t you look?” He watched the girl through the corners of his eyes. McCorkle wanted an audience for this dramatic ceremony. He was inher- ently a conceited man, this fat, lumbering waterfront drunk. He liked the adulation of his henchmen. And they supplied the demand. He liked the adulation of women --any women--but particularly one like this girl beside him. He was strutting for her. The prairie cock was lifting his feather tufts, raising his tail, spreading and droop- ing his wings. But the girl—in the man- ner of prairie*hens, was uninterested! At least she was uninterested in him! | McCorkle’s eyes bulged ‘ill they turned yellowish. What was she doing? Actually smiling—her lips curling, her white cheeks dimpling—a smile that reflected all the se- duction, the witchery,.fhe rviles. ever used