Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

THE SCANDAL ON KITIKAT KEY, “TI learned this trudgeon from one of the greatest swimmers who ever lived,” he informed her. “Probably,” she comforted him, “you weren't watching him closely.” Seething, Gerald swam back with her to the pier. Gone was his whole- hearted admiration for that slim, per- fect figure. “You probably smoke too much,” Susan commented as they climbed out and started back for the bungalow. “ And I’ve yet to see a heavy drinker who really did well in the water.” “T’m not a heavy drinker,’ Gerald hotly protested. “I don’t drink more than one cocktail a day.” “Then, if I were you, I’d cut that one out. You have a very good figure, Mr. Amadon, and your muscular de- velopment is quite fair.” “ Quite fair!’ he snorted. “Yes, considering the life you have led. With a little training, you should be what every man ought to-be. It’s a shame I won’t be here long. Id love to take you in hand, Mr. Amadon. I always feel so sorry when I see a young man whose physique is ruined and whose brain is mushy and soggy from fast living, like yours ts.” Gerald made no comment on this. How he hated this girl! They sepa- rated to dress for breakfast, and when she appeared, wearing a soft blue dress that came almost to her insteps, a gleam entered Gerald’s watchful eyes. He would not permit himself to admit ‘that, in the blue dress, she was more beautiful than any girl he had ever seen. What he permitted himself to say, when they were seated, and Aunt Becky had gone away to fetch the waffles, was: “It’s too bad that a girl with your brains doesn’t know how to dress.” Susan Finch looked at him quickly. Then the deep pink of indignation swept up into her face. With her eyes asparkle, she was lovelier than ever. ‘Don’t you like the way I dress?’ she snapped. | 505 “Well, you have a pretty fair fig- ure,” was Gerald’s revengeful reply, “and your legs are not bad. If I were a girl, I wouldn’t use everything at hand to conceal what attractive points I had.” She sat in smoldering silence a few seconds, her eyes lowered. Then she said: ‘‘ My fiancé likes me to dress this way.” “Well,” was Gerald’s come-back, “my fiancée likes me the way I am, too. She doesn’t object to my taking a cocktail once in awhile. She’s a gén- erous, broad-minded girl.” “It happens,” retorted Susan, “ that my fiancé doesn’t want me to go around showing my-—my—limbs—” “Listen! Gerald interrupted her. “Are you a tree? What are limbs? Do you mean legs?” She flushed more deeply crimson at that. “T think you're insulting!’ “T think,’ Gerald retorted, “ that your fiancé must be a terrible dumb- bell. Dumb but happy. I know the kind. Who is he, Miss Finch?” — “ His name,” Susan answered, after a pause, “is Lester Colton.” She said it defiantly. The name had leaped into her mind, because, perhaps, Lester Colton was the last young man she had met. She had met him when the Lottie Lee had put into Miami for fuel and supplies a few weeks ago. “What's he like?” Gerald pressed, after giving himself time to recover from paralyzing astonishment. “He’s wonderful,” said Susan. “So honorable, so clean-minded. You —you haven’t told me anything about your fiancée. Who is she?” “Her name,” said Gerald, “ is—is Eiulalie Maytime.” He selected Eulalie because Eulalie, being the last girl he had seen, was the first to come into his mind. » “ She sounds like a chorus girl,” said Susan. “As a matter of fact, she is on the stage,” Gerald admitted. =. s a, oe x Pi ~~ —. ~ comicbook * ~ ae ee —— oe * ce as See a