Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

GOLD. era of the mining camps. They wanted to get home, and they would ship as deck hands for the mere privilege of sailing around the Horn back to their New England hills. On the night that Swope and his three henchmen made their moment- ous change of plans, the skipper ate a good supper of bacon, a slice of bear meat, some biscuits, and coffee. Then he conducted evening prayers with his two faithful followers. He petitioned the God of his fore- fathers for several specific blessings: he prayed that the ship would be ready to sail, he prayed for provisions, he prayed for a worthy crew, he prayed for strength so that he could sail in two more days, and he prayed for a favorable wind. Lastly he asked the all-merciful God to provide brit enough for those whales to feed on, so that they would not wan- der off to new grounds. Having thus quieted his soul, the old convalescent turned into his bunk and in ten minutes was snoring loudly. This was the signal for Priscilla and her ancient companion to withdraw to the steerage. The week’s earnings were secreted in the bottom of a big cask. Old Joshua had the list of provisions made by the skipper which were neces- sary before the bark could be put on her hunt. A good many of these he had purchased, drawing prodigally up- on the girl’s hoard of gold dust, and these he had checked off. ‘T’ve still got to buy three barrels of port, three hundred pump nails, a dipsy line, an adze. Corn I can’t get. But there’s plenty of rum to be had. Let’s see; a barrel will be thirty-two and a half quarts at forty dollars. About five thousand.” “Here it is,” the girl said. * And we've got to keep a few thou- sand for chandler’s stuff, and if we’re lucky [Il find a chandler that ain’t just dealin’ in pickaxes and pans and gold borers like every one J’ve met so far deals in.’ 85 He went on reading the list. “ Log lines, cod lines, a pump-hook, a draw bucket, three pounds powder, three skeins marling, eight spare blocks, a cat-block, twenty ‘fathoms spare rig- ging, a sounding-lead, one bung-borer, a dozen sail needles. A lot of this stuff can’t be had for love or money.” ‘““ How about the long boats?” “T made a dicker for two at a thou- sand apiece.” The girl made a hasty appraisal of the octagonal slugs and gold dust she had left. “I'll have to go ashore one more night,” was her verdict. As Better not,” the old harpooner ad- vised. “ The skipper ain’t sleepin’ so heavy—”’ “It doesn’t sound that way,” Pris- cilla said. She had to raise her voice because of the snoring that came from forward of that steerage bulkhead. “Still and all he’ll find out one way or another. How are we going to ex- plain to him that I could pay for all this stuff? He'll know soon enough that you can’t piek it up for nothing in this town.” “Tell him you sold the oil,” Pris- cilla said readily. “You mean tell him a lie?” She thought a moment, her fore- head clouding. ‘Then: ‘“ Some lies aren’t sinful—despite my father’s teachings.”’ “ But who’s going to take his thrash- ing when he finds out we've tricked him? I am.” 3 No. I, myself, will take his thrash- ing,” the girl said. Joshua laughed. The girl could do anything, even tell lies, and old Bart- lett would condone it. “Once more ashore, but only once,” he finally consented. He did not exactly have to consent. She was going anyway. During the last two or three nights at the Gold Rocker she had watched the gamblers, and wondered what had happened to the renegade who had saved her father and dropped out of her life. COPMIC OOO KS (E@)