Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

610 They fled in a huddle, leaving Badoun gasping his last, Telak on his face, motion- less. As they ran they dropped the rises. The skipper herded them, with Pinckney and Evans, fastening the forecastle hatch above them. Sykes turned to the cuddy door, now opening. “We'll work the ship to Macassar our- selves,’”’ said the skipper. They can stay there. They’ll swing for this, the last one of them.” ‘Short and sweet that was,” said the panting Sykes to the women. “ Did you see the skipper? A man-tamer, that’s what ~ he is. But it was a bit of a close shave, at that.” He flung himself, panting, into a chair, and held out this wrist to the elder woman. “The bandage shifted,” he said. ‘ D’ yer mind fixin’ it?” Mary Leigh stepped to the door. Her mind was clearing slowly from the tragedy that had deadened it. She saw Samson, standing over the fallen Telak, and her glance passed on to where the skipper was coming aft again, big, burly, shouldermg along on the deck that he had won. A great light shone in her eyes. . Suddenly Samson, who had been watch- ing her, reckoned the blankness of her gaze as it had ignored him, knowing why it had suddenly become brilliant, kicked savagely at Telak. Perhaps the Malay, clinging to revenge in the face of death, had been shamming, waiting his chance with the un- quenchable patience of his kind. His face turned from the planks, one hand shot out like the flung coil of a ser- ‘pent, it clutched the mate’s ankle, dragged him down with a frenzied jerk. In the other hand a Aris rose and fell once. Then Telak’s arms dropped with a thud, his twisting features stilled and grayed. And Samson, blood spouting from below his groin, strove to drag himself away. The barkentine was headed into the sun- set, flowing in sheets of crimson splendor, clouds moving across the deeper glare like | smoke. Into the wind she forged while the eastern sky flowed red, and everywhere, save where the dazzle of the sun played, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. the sea ran deepest-blue with a hint of glowing foam in the crests. Mary Leigh was alone with the skipper in the cuddy. Pinckney held the wheel. The course was set for Macassar. Quong had come out of his galley, deprecatory. “No good for me,” he said. ‘“ Me cookee, no good for fight. _ If I no mixee, mebbe they let me alone. Now evelly- thing allee lightee.” - Badoun and Telak had gone to the sharks. The mutineers, secured below the hatch, would: be delivered over to justice within twenty-four hours. Sykes and Evans acted as the working crew for the diminished sailspread. Samson was in his bunk, with Miss Burton tending him. The skipper had just come from patching him up. “He is not going to die, unless there is blood-poisoning,” said the skipper. ‘‘ We'll have him in hospital this time to-morrow. This breeze is going to hold.” He did not look at the girl, though he felt her gaze compelling him. He cleared the table of two cutlases, setting them in place in the rack. “You had better turn in,” he said. ‘“‘ It has been a strenuous day. You needn’t worry about Samson. He’ll-get well.” “‘T’m not bothering about him,” she said, and the trembling quality of her voice brought the skipper face to face with her, ““ He doesn’t matter,” she went on, and her face was the hue of the afterglow. Her eyes © as sparkling as the crystal facets of the waves. ‘‘ Nothing matters—except you!” .- The skipper’s pent-up passion overflowed as he swept her into his arms, holding her fiercely. “You mean that?’ he asked hoarsely. She answered him with her lips. Presently he felt her relax in his arms with a sigh. “I’m hurting you,” he said. She smiled up at him. “Do,” she said. “I want you to. What is it, John, you wrote in your log, after the day ’Serecord?”’ He replied wonderingly: (The end.) ‘So ends this day?” “That’s it. So ends this day. And every other day. Like this.” ATE Y GONG OOOKS: (CON