The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

SHIPS OF STRIFE. The beach was flung into brilliant radi- ance by the licking tongues of fire; the brutal ferocity of the skipper was reflected in the faces around him. The scum of the two ships had clung to Marshall, and brandy and gold-lust had turned them into beasts. | “Now, my suckin’ doves,” and Steelfist leered wolfishly, ‘‘where’s the gold that ought to been in that chest, huh? Speak up, Dude, or taste fire!” “Go look for it, you dog!” snapped Blake, knowing that protests of ignorance were of no avail. Marshall swung toward the girl. “Vou, Mary Peabody! Want to see your fine friend toasted, huh? ‘Then talk out an’ do it lively!) Where’s the loot?” “T do not know,” said the girl quietly, holding herself very erect and firm. ‘All right, curse you! Here—two o’ you bullies shove the Dude into the embers over there—no, leave his boots on.” Two of the men seized Blake and thrust him forward, then tripped him up and shot him along the ground, feet first, into the heat of the fire. He heard a choking cry from Mary, as the embers and half-burned tangle covered his feet and ankles. “Take him out—for God’s sake don’t do this! Ill give you the money—anything you want—”’ “Out with him, bullies!” roared the skip- per. With the heat drawing a stifled groan of agony from him, Blake was dragged away from the fire; the men set up a yell at this evidence of the skipper’s seeming success. “Spit it out!” bellowed Marshall to the girl. ‘‘Where’s the stuff? Out with it, or back he goes an’ you with him!” White-faced, stark with horror, stared at him. “T don’t know where it is now,” she broke out, “but Ill promise that Mr. Wicliff shall turn it over to you—you shall have the whole thing—”’ “More o’ your blasted lies!” screamed Marshall, his face that of a madman. “T’ll learn ye to lie to me! In with ’em, bullies ——move, curse you!” Even the men hesitated at this order, but under a flood of oaths from Marshall they seized Mary Peabody and thrust her forward. Now Blake loosened his lips, and poured out his rage on Marshall, his words biting deep until the skipper’s face swept with new passion. she 445 “In with ’em!” he bellowed furiously. “Let ’em warm their feet at the same fire an’ we'll get truth out of ’em—” “The girl’s gone, sir,” spoke up a man, and the others hesitated. Mary had fainted. Marshall raised the rifle which he still held. “Now,” he yelled, “obey, you rats! Shove ‘em in feet first, both together—an’ do it lively!” Blake felt himself gripped, and raved out incoherent curses. He saw Slim Jack lift- ing his feet for the fling, and—something long and thin seemed to flicker through the air. Slim Jack dropped his feet suddenly and looked surprised, caught at the end of a shark-tooth spear that had gone clear through him, and fell forward into the fire. CHAPTER ‘XVII. TO A FINISH. B EFORE any of the watching group quite realized what had happened, a heavy coco-wood club flew from the edge of the jungle, struck Marshall, and sent him sprawling on the sand, his rifle flying away. After the club came Fancy Harry Lovell, a stream of brown figures followed the bo’sun with a wild yell, revolvers cracked, and the fight was on. In that first moment of torture Blake’s ankle-lashings had been~burned through. Now he tried to gain his feet, but fell back with a groan of agony; his burns effectually kept him out of the turmoil. Some one gripped his shoulder, he felt himself dragged roughly over the sand; then appeared Wicliff, who had rescued Mary Peabody from the trampling horde. Holding the unconscious girl in his arms, he joined Blake, who lay watching. No word was spoken; indeed, Blake gave the old missionary but a glance, for he was intent on the fight and was lending the en- couragement of his voice to his own men— Ryan and Ole Kafban being with Lovell. In that first moment, Marshall’s men were all but overcome by the sheer sur- prise of the assault, and Ryan shot two of them mercilessly. Then the skipper was up, and the terrible steel fist came into play. Ryan was knocked senseless. Ole came staggering blindly toward Blake, and dropped to the NOOL“KS COMMUC (C@