The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

~ 408 He paused, as a knock sounded from the room above. “Who’s that?” growled Howard. “Me, Tani. Got message from Miss Pea- body. Boy bring him.” The door was opened and closed. After a short interval of silence there was a crash as Howard brought down his fist on. the table. “What d’ye know about this, Bingham! She’s gone aboard already; says she wants to sail by midnight! Bet she got a sight o’ Steelfist somewheres an’ recognized him—”’ But Blake heard no more. Slipping from his chair he was already striding toward the entrance of the grounds, with blank dismay in his heart. Mary Peabody would never get that warning now! CHAPTER VII. THE FINN AND THE SUIT-CASE. A> his car sped toward town Blake’s lips clenched in grim resolve. “Missed my chance,” he thought bitter- ly. “I daren’t send a note aboard the Fos- ter—she’d never get it in the world! No, I’ve got to get hold of Forrester and the men, then let Marshall know that Howard is going to sail at midnight. If I advance Marshall’s game, I advance my own. Then —my time will come later.” Since Marshall had expected to remain till next day with the John Foster, Blake knew that he would find the mates and the crew still ashore. So, leaving the car at the edge of town, he located a boat-boy on the waterfront who gave him the names of some "houses of call for officers. Blake started on his rounds hastily, for it was now drawing on toward midnight. “There’s good in all evil, just the same,” he consoled himself. “‘My alacrity in this matter will convince Steelfist that I’m play- ing square with him. And at the finish— by thunder, I’ll find some way to counter him and Howard together!” At his second stopping place he obtained news of the two mates. Five minutes later he ran them to earth in a private room of a saloon. “Hello, Dude!” “Thought you had been put away. can cert’nly scrap—eh, Rube?” Long Rube condescended to lend a word of assent. Both men were plain blue water ruffians when it came to handling a crew; exclaimed Forrester. You THE ARGOSY. and, to a great extent, they had to be such. Yet neither of them was the man to with- hold appreciation, ashore, of the qualities which at sea made Blake dangerous to them. ‘Did you get any of them?” asked Blake quietly. ‘“Nary one—the police broke in too quick.” “IT suppose you know that ae Foster sails at midnight?” The two men stared at him in eartled surmise. Having nothing to conceal in the story, Blake told exactly what he had over- heard at the Japanese inn. At the first words Bower would have dashed off to round up the men, but For- rester held him back, bidding Blake give the whole yarn. “Lord!” broke out the angry second mate. “We been sittin’ here gammin’ while Howard’s heavin’ short—” “Run along, then,” commanded Forres- ter with an oath. ‘Round up the crowd, an’ get busy.” Bower disappeared on the run. The mate, more leisurely, started toward the landing-place with Blake. ‘“We can sail rings around the Foster,” said Forrester slowly. “But when the Ol’ Man saw the girl take her gear ashore to the hotel he nat’rally thought the Foster was good for a couple o’ days anyhow. So the crew’s ashore an’ hell’s to pay. Are any of the Foster’s crew ashore?” — “Very likely,” nodded Blake. “Howard only got his sailing orders when I was there, a half-hour ago. It—” “Then meet me at the landin’ stage— keep under cover—I’ll be back—” Whirling abruptly, Forrester departed at a lumbering run, leaving Blake to continue by himself. Once at the landing-place Blake settled down with his pipe in the shadow of some piled kegs, where he could keep a watch on all things. The place seemed absolutely deserted, however. Five minutes later a number of native boatmen appeared hastily; urging them on was Forrester, who left them and came over to join Blake, puffing and drip- ping with sweat. “Holy Gawd, if it works!” he panted. “What?” asked Blake nonchalantly. “Wait an’ see. I—listen to that! Listen to that! Ain’t it hell? There’s Howard get- tin’ his hook, blast him! Ain’t none of his cursed crowd ashore?” Gomichook (C@)