Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

THE NEXT VICTIM. BBD gone through with again; oof the sus spen se and mental torture that would be his when — we set foot ashore. It would be a night- mare of constant alarm. Of starting at shadows. and, undoubtedly, at substances more real and infinitely more. menacing. “Bickers?” I said, joining them. Alice answered me briefly. “He has a z chance,” she said, “I’ve done everything I. could. We're getting help, I suppose?” I explained the disaster to the wireless, the complete breakdown of our engines, and the fact that Captain Wickstrom was pre- paring to shoot rockets of distress. done so.” I crossed to a porthole ad looked out upon the black curtain behind which hung upwards in a tall arc and there hung sus- pended in the air, at its burst, a cluster of scarlet stars. The steward acioanead” that dinner was served and, seeing no opportunity for drawing Billings aside to inform him of Mi- cah Thrumm’s letter without arousing the curiosity of Alice or my nephew, we passed in silence into the dining saleon and took our places at the table. We made no effort to mask the strain that we were under. With our guests: con- h fined to their cabins there was no need of — maintaining any air of artificial calm or gayety. One thought, and one alone, filled all our minds: Micah. Thrumm, “ve been wondering,” said my nephew, dunce an absence on the part of the stew- ard between courses, ‘ if there isn’t some connection between ae breakdown of the engines, of the wireless set, and Micah Thrumm. We must remember that we are in the approximate position that he desig- nated in his letter as the rendezvous for, to-night. There is a chance that he i is still on board. That he wishes us to remain in this locality for a special | purpose. Perhaps / he expects some ship of his own to be here at midnight—some ship to which he will swim and so make good his escape.” IT seized the explanation eagerly, as a handle ‘upon which IT could hang my own “suspicions that the assassin was still with us; my ‘Suspicions that had been fostered “by. the receiving of his letter to myself. I voiced my agreement and - added a strong opinion: that we should be more carefully than ever upon our guard. “TY would advise,” I said to Billings, “ that immediately after we have finished dinner you join me in my cabin. That we stay 1 there until we reach port.” —“ Fust as you wish, ” said Billings. _ There was a listless quality in his voice, as if he, too, were becoming fatalistic. He - was § seated upon my left. Alice was upon “ Perhaps,” I concluded, “he has already : my right, with my nephew alongside of her. We were using one end of the longish table — that ran fore and aft along the saloon. The , steward had departed for coffee. The door the starless heavens and lay” the invisible sea. Even as I tried te pierce the darkness — with my eyes a spear of molten gold shafted. leading to the p ‘pantry was. closed, as was the door directly i in back of my hair which led to the passage. We were alone. I looked at my nephew in the hope that he would back ‘up my advice. I caught a brief glimpse of a ‘puzzled frown upon his face, of his eyes staring sharply at something } behind me, of his lips. which were just opening to speak, when the lights went out. The fact that the lights should suddenly go out did not, immediately, either astonish or alarm me. With the engines disabled, - _ nothing was more likely than that-the dy- namo that fed the lighting system should have become disabled, too. “ The steward,” 1 ut confidently, : will shortly bring lamps. I imagine that— “Hush!” warned the voice of my neh ew from the darkness. It was a bare whisper, but it reached like so many knife thrusts my startled nerves. “There’s something wrong here—Micah Thrumm is in this sa- loon!” CHAPTER XV. THE DAGGER. 7 \S the door to the ‘passage was directly behind my chair I had failed to ob- serve what my nephew had been staring at and which he later described to’ me—the slight opening of that door—the insertion of a hand that had felt for the light switch—then the darkness. conieboul <S35(E(0)