The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

og 876 THE point shot back so quickly into the de- fense that I had no chance tor an open- ing. The third time | had the point through my upper arm. Not for nothing were those years of my boyhood spent with men who had fought and bled on all the hard-fought fields of Europe. Quick as a flash, | passed my sword into my left hand, and before he had recovered his guard I thrust en carte, following the thrust with the full weight of my body. It was a reckless thing to do, for it threw me open to his return thrust 1f 1 failed to reach him, but | did not fail. As it happened the point caught ‘him fairly under the right arm and drove deep into his body, and the blade snapped as he fell upon it. A roar rose to the stars and Oakes whirled me back as I was about to spring upon him, wmtsericordia in hand, to demand his surrender, for among the Brethren of the Coast only an acknowledged defeat counted. “You have won,” he said. “ You have won! Now take your prize and leave. Leave,’ he said shortly. is | will follow to guard your back.” I stepped forward and spoke to the shuddering girl. “ Senora, I kiss your hands and feet. Tell me where we shall find some friends of yours, for you must seek them to get shelter in some place where you. will not again be exe to dan- ger of capture.” She looked at me uncomprehending- I repeated my words. “Do you mean,” she said slowly, “that I am free?” “ As free, senora, as you were be- fore we came,” I said. She looked me long in the eyes and my heart leaped at the joy of it. “Come then, sefor,’ she said. “TI know a place, but you must take me to it. God guard you, senor, for your chivalry.” Oakes following us closely, I took her hand and led her out from the brawling and drinking men, through the roaring, ranting groups about the ly. them we will do our hest. ARGOSY. fires, out into the golden tropic night and the coolness of the stars. CHAPTER IX, THE REAL TREASURE. Iy was not till we had passed the district in which the more pretentious residences were built that we slack- ened our’ pace. During all this time, perhaps a half-hour, neither of us had spoken, but all the while I had held her little hand in mine. “ Senor,” she said presently, is thy name?” I told her. She stumbled prettily over the phen,” lated it into the softer ‘‘ Esteban” of the Castilians. “My own name is Dolores,’ she said; “* Dolores de Montijo, and—oh, Don Esteban, you have been so good to me; I can never thank you enough! Almost do I wish that you were more like those men back there, so that I might feel that I could recompense you by money for what you have done. That is, if I had it.” “Tam repaid already,” I said, “in knowing that | have redeemed myself in your eyes. Indeed, when we came on this raid, or, rather, when we joined the freebooters in Tortugas, we were fresh from the prison of San Marco.” And I told her, how we were cast away in the Lone Star, of the prison, of the torture_of Oakes, and of our escape. “Ts it then revenge that brings you to war on defenseless people?” she asked. “Long ago I swore,” I said, “ that my sword should never be used against the helpless. Soldiers of Spain robbed me and tortured my friend, and against Helpless men and women are safe from me.” ““Oh, Don Esteban,” she said, “‘ you have shown,me that.” Her warm little hand dropped into * what ““ Ste- mine again, and I thought—perhaps it (€(0) DOOKS: mie finally laughing when I trans-: (E@)