The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

428 With the full day, however, came teem- ing activity aboard the two ships. Boats were put out and began flitting over the lagoon; evidently both skippers were mak- ing search for the wreck. One boat, how- ever, made a straight course for the bunga- low, and through his glasses Blake saw Steelfist Marshall in her stern. Running up the beach, the boat landed and Marshall vanished toward the bunga- low, which was just out of Blake’s range of vision. For half an hour nothing happened; then Marshall reappeared, plainly in a tow- ering rage, and drove his men out with curses that reached Blake’s ears. Noon came and passed almost unnoticed by the watching Blake. In some anxiety as to the result of that visit, Blake finally leaped up and started down the path leading to the bungalow. As he did so, however, a bronze and grinning native stepped from the tangle of bush, holding up one. hand in token of peace; at the man’s back was slung a wicked shark- tooth spear. The man had been one of his guides, Blake remembered. “No ’fraid, only me!” said the native in a mellow voice. “Glad to see you,” laughed Blake. “Where’s Mr. Wicliff? Is he all right?” “All ri’, all ri’, you no ’fraid! Stop along alla same I show you—bimeby come miss’= nary papa. You stop?” Blake nodded, reassured, and returned to his hut. Now he observed that the questing boats were fast falling foul of each other, and at the far side of the lagoon two of the small craft were engaged in a fast and furious oar fight. “Hello!” chuckled Blake. ‘‘There’s the red-headed Bingham—hbet a dollar he falls foul of Forrester—ah, I thought so!” Sure enough, Bingham’s boat had fouled the bows of Bully Forrester’s cutter. The two mates drew an oar’s length distant from each other and evidently began to exchange compliments. A moment later something flashed from Bingham’s boat, and oné of Forrester’s men fell and lay limply across the thwart. With a mad dipping of oars, the two boats came together. “Poor fellows—and all for nothing!” ex- claimed a pitying voice. Blake whirled, and saw John Wicliff standing at his shoulder, watching the THE ARGOSY. . lagoon with sorrowful eyes. Turning again to the water, Blake leaned forward in ex- citement, every nerve taut. “Look at that!” he exclaimed. “It’s rank murder——-God!” Oars, boathooks and _ stretchers were flashing between the two boatcrews in mur- derous play. But Forrester had risen in the stern, out of the mélée, the coiled leadline in his left hand. Twice the sounding-lead whirled around his head, then he loosed it with deadly aim. The plummet took Bingham squarely over the ear; the red-haired mate of the Foster went down and lay motionless. Then the Foster’s men pulled out of the combat, pursued by taunting yells. But Blake knew that one man had died this day. He was human enough to care little how far this work went among the two crews; he was human enough to care a great deal for Wicliff and the little flock of natives; but when he looked into the eyes of the patri- arch, Jack Blake realized that this man had a spirituality, a common humanity with all things, such as he himself would never know. ‘All is well with us, Blake,” said Wicliff quietly. ‘Marshall visited me, and I gave him no satisfaction. Two of my boys were repairing their spears, and the tacit warn- ing reached him. He went away cursing you.” “Curses come home to roost,” laughed Blake. “Good for you! By the way, just where is the wreck of Peabody’s ship? They seem to be quartering the lagoon without much success.” Wicliff smiled, and pointed to the reef. “She broke up at the false entrance, just here under us, where your ship grounded. She never got safe inside, but was swept over the reef after striking, and sank imme- diately. She must have broken her back when she struck.” “Hm!” mused Blake. ‘Then they’ll find her sooner or later, eh?” . “T suppose so,” and Wicliff nodded. “Now, for the present, you had better stay here night and day, Blake. is remaining at the village, also. I'll have your hammock brought up and slung here.” OR eitiena _“No objections, please!” Wicliff’s blue eyes flashed sternly as he gazed at the ships below. “I want to avoid all strife as far as possible, and want to keep my little band of natives intact. So farewell until to-mor- NOOLKS Miss Peabody — COLMUC (©)