Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

848 the little roof lay a mat-covered figure in an exhausted heap. The face was streaked with dirt and tears and threads of still-wet hair. One thin, uncovered hand was fast clenched. At sight of that hand, Lansdell cautious- ly went forward to his knees, opened the hand gently, and picked away two tiny, black spots which stood out on the fair skin, Marcia moved her head, murmuring. ‘* It’s all right,” he said soothingly. When he had dipped a palm-full of water from overside and washed the place where the tiny pellets had rested, he went back care- fully to his place in the praz. He returned the two pellets to a phial from which the red paper was hanging loosely. ‘‘ Thank Heaven she didn’t remember to take them!” he said aloud. Again she moved. “ Philip,” she whis- pered. “I’m here. You go to sleep. I just re- membered that you had the medicine, and it wasn’t the same kind that I gave you be- fore the fight.” “ We’re—all—right,” sleepily. He drew a long breath of thankfulness. But for his own torn and mud-stained clothes, the figures of his companions and the hurrving boat, he would have said that he had just awakened from an ugly dream. He looked across the little roof at the Chinese outlined against the lead-colored sky. ‘“ Kwong,” he said solemnly, ‘‘ the way vou used those kegs of powder would shame the Roval Engineers!” That full, yellow countenance divided in a erin, and the man’s black eyes rested proudly on the face turned up toward his. But he only nodded, his queue, which was partly unbraided, and blowing in the wind made by the swift passage of the boat, go- ing up and down on his breast. “The keg that went off first,” went on Lansdell, laughing, ‘‘ took that crowd off their feet. It scared ’em good and plenty, Kwong, and got ’em ripe for that final she answered . going; ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. stunt. And the way it all fitted in! I'll say it was perfect teamwork!” Kwong gave another quick bob of his dis- ordered top-knot, with its scalp shaven in the old-fashioned manner. ‘‘ Mister,” he said, “if I don’t got plenty—plenty time for make how-you-call of powder on ground, no can do.” “Time!” returned Lansdell. stand. Every delay was luck!” ‘“ Mister,” Kwong went on, in a sort of sing-song, “‘ I say to me like this: ‘I don’t can give all them Dyak devil one good shot for each. So. Better if I make for all a big blow-up—maybe two.’ ” ‘“ Some idea!”’ agreed Lansdell. ‘“ Ves, I do that idea out”—#it was said happily, with a showing of all those yellow teeth in a smile that entirely shut from sight the keen, liquidly shining eyes. ‘“ Also, after I have give Goboh one good choke, I make the cut-off of them boats, so all Dyak don’t come after.” ‘“ Kwong ’—Lansdell spread out his arms to take in all that life offered to them just then: A white heron flying overhead: the blue roof of the river; the peaceful, rapid-flowing route down which they were the bending, flower-hung jungle which was already laying its green reflec- tion on the water; the musical voices of un- seen birds; ‘“—Kwong, how’ll we ever to able to make it up to you for what you’ve Well, ‘I under- done! aAnd-if I’m not mistaken, it was you, too, wasn’t it, that wrote me a letter?” A bow, while the Chinese reached one hand to a hip-pocket under the tails of the padded jacket. ‘‘ Mister,’ he replied, ‘‘ I can make talk on paper more better than with mouth. So. I got glad feel to tell you how you have much welcome, please, to that respec‘ful letter which I have achieve.” He bent forward to toss to Lansdell, across the curving roof of the boat, a small and well-thumbed book. And the surprised and delighted white man in the front of the prax, glancing at the cover of that volume, read its title: A MANUAL OF POLITE CORRESPONDENCE For the Instruction of Ladies and Gentlemen THE END 3A GCOMIGIOO <SHG