The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 176: what you’re looking at

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

166 somewhat pale, he came out on the ledge and gazed at the approaching vessel. “ Monsieur is vair fortunate,” said he at last. “Ze sheep vill take us away from zis place now.”’ Saville raised his eyebrows. gian’s impudence amused him. “Us!” he repeated. “You vill not leave me here to starve, monsieur |” “We shall see what the captain of the ship has to say,” replied Saville. “ You weren’t over polite just now you know, Monsieur Foularde.”’ The other cast a look of vindictive hate at the speaker, but Saville paid him small attention. He was watching the ship which was to bear him back to civiliza- tion, or perchance to some fresh hiding- place. Through his glasses he discerned the flutter of white. Some one was waving a handkerchief from the bridge—A woman! Saville’s pulse quickened. There was only one woman in the world that could know he was there. Ellen Lisle! Had the brave girl come herself to make sure of his safety? Then, for the first time since rec- ognizing the Benmore, Saville began to make calculations regarding time. How could Ellen Lisle have found Andrew Trail and delivered her message within so short a period! It was barely ten days since the Gitana had left the island. Ten days in which to reach San Fran- cisco, find Michael Trail and return in the Benmore! It seemed impossible. It was impossi- ble. But there she was, Saville recognized her clearly now and beside her brown- bearded Andrew Trail. At that moment a sudden outcry from within the cave startled Saville. He rushed within to behold Foularde lying by the opening to the lower cavern, his face twisted in mortal agony. “ Ze stone — it fall — an’ crush — my foot, monsieur,’”’ he gasped. Saville, all unsuspicious, knelt beside the writhing man. Then Foularde, with The Bel- THE ARGOSY. a ferocious cry of triumph snatched the revolver from the other’s belt and, leap- ing up, brought the butt of the weapon down upon Saville’s head with terrific force, felling him unconscious to the ground. —_—__—___—__— CHAPTER XXIII. THE DUEL IN THE CAVE. GAVILLE at last realized that the dull, throbbing pain in his head was a grim reality and not merely a_ vivid nightmare. He furthermore grasped the fact that he was lying on his back with his hands tied behind him and his legs also bound. He opened his eyes wearily to en- counter those of Foularde who sat watch- ing him with an expression of malignant triumph. “So, monsieur,”’ he said softly, “I am, vat you call, top dog.” | “You're a dog, right enough,” retorted Saville, though the effort to speak sent an additional pang through his head. “T have not gag you,” said Foularde, “as I do not think you will make a noise. I would not try if I were you.” Then Saville saw that his revolver lay ready at the speaker’s hand. The tables were turned with a vengeance! Saville strove to recall what had happened. “What of the ship — the Benmore?” he gasped weakly. “ Has she gone?” Foularde laughed shortly. “Not yet. She will remain to search a leetle and find nozing—only ze boat. Then she vill go away and we will wait a leetle longer, you and I, monsieur. Then anozer sheep will come. My friends, this time, monsieur.” “You poor fool,” Saville said wearily. “Andrew Trail will pass this island through a sieve before he quits it, and even if we are left here we shall starve. No other ship will come here for a month, unless by a miracle.”’ “Then ze miracle will happen,’ re- plied Foularde calmly. “I have arrange EOMICGLOOOKS (©)