Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

476 ‘What did you say?” he demanded. “Why, I warned him what he had in mind might make him unpopular with you,” Varney conceded. “What did he make of thatr” _ “Tt didn’t scare him any. He inti- mated pretty strong that the gates of hell were standing wide open,-and that he had a one-way ticket for you any time you came after it.” “Ts that so!” Spofford sneered. “You heard what folks call that lad?” Varney asked. “T’ll bite. What is it?” “His name’s Peter De Quincy, the first letters of which spell P. D. Q. From what Aleck Carmichael tells me he’s supposed to be a combination of dynamite and blue lightning. Mebbe you'd better let the guy alone.” “Tet him alone after what he did to me!” Spofford growled. “ Fat chance! See anything of Carl Davis this morning?” “Carl ain’t been around daytimes lately—only at night. He’s got a job some place, 1 wouldn’t wonder. Per- haps your dad might know where he goes. Ask him, why don’t your’ “When I want advice, Sid,’ Spof- ford remarked grumpily, ‘“ T’ll come and ask for it.” “ Suit yourself,” retorted Varney. OUNG Spofford presently left the Red Front, wandering forth to the street. Lacking an oppor- tunity to hold converse with Mr. Carl Davis, he proceeded to seek out Carl’s companion of the evening before, Mex, the gentleman of swarthy complexion who had forcibly collided with a chair flung by Peter De Quincy. This man’s full name was Mexican Charlie. After some little time spent in search, Spofford located, Mex in the back room of another saloon, and they soon had their heads together over a bottle. Spofford began: ‘ You know that broncho forker—the guy that slammed _ you last night?” aad oP ce ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Mexican Charlie’s lips curled back in a sneer which disclosed a double row of white teeth. ‘Know heem!”’ he gritted, passing a hand over bruised ribs. ‘ Has he not almost keeled me, weeth that chair!’ “Like to get even, wouldn’t you?” The Mexican’s black eyes questioned Spofford suspiciously, dwelling on the conspicuous lump which disfigured his jaw. Spofford caught the glance, in- terpreting it correctly. _ “Qh, I’m sore at him too; I don’t deny that,” he said hastily. ‘ We’re all in this together—you, and Carl, and me. We've got to get that guy.” “That means,” Mexican Charlie ob- served indolently, with a characteristic shrug of his shoulders, ‘ that Davis and I are to get heem. What does Carl say?” “I haven’t located Carl yet,” Spof- ford admitted. ‘ But he’s all right. He'll agree to anything reasonable.” “He won’t agree to get heemself shot up by thees red-headed gun-sling- er—thees guy they call P. D. QO. Me— TI am not so angry weeth heem, after all. He ees one good guy.to leave alone.” Unconsciously Mexican Charlie echoed the sentiments Spofford had just heard from Mr. Varney, of the Red Front. “ The trouble with you is you’re yel- low, Mex,” he grumbled. “ Bluffed out of the game by a red-headed puncher.” Mexican Charlie passed off the in- sult with a sneer. “Yellow!” He snapped his finger contemptuously. ‘‘ You—call me yel- low! That ees a good one, as you Americanos say. Yellow!” and Charlie laughed mirthlessly. “You know I didn’t meant it just that way,” Spofford disclaimed uneasi- ly. “ But we’ve got to get rid of that red-head. He socked you, and he socked Carl; I got it worse—he socked me twice. On top of all that he stole a girl I want.” ““Suppose Carl and I put thees P.. com Xe - oo os . - , * ‘ < - a « - : ss iy L~ Me . _ SO pe I : . ah) Im, * jf. ~~ ol $2 «5 Pree es ~ 5A zap eS. rd | DD i de a = 28S a Se ert cae oe a wre - ape tao a Pye SES ew ae ot ee . Se, Sat ee ISS ION le Oe oe PE ee A. ee OT om hr a et ee NEA, - Pakage ree See Se, See 5a) 9 a ee ana & we SRS," ad ’Se Ch ee EP ae A ge ON I aS OM en OR nats AER yg AS EEL, LE SRS SPP Le ee Se be Pn ee Dig ye oe ne ee oe ies