The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 2 — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

274 was not accustomed to walking, and the distance to the hut was by no means short. “ Youw’re a good boy, Suka,” said the millionaire gratefully as he followed his guide. ‘I'll raise your wages ‘if we ever get back home.” On and on they went until Harvey was ready to drop from the unusual exercise. His feet seemed like lead. “Here we are arrived,’ announced Suka at last as he pushed open the door of the rough cabin. He stepped aside for his master to enter, and in doing so his right foot went down in a small hole. This threw him to the ground, and in trying to save himself from the fall he put out his right arm. His hand bent beneath his weight, and on attempting to rise he felt such keen pain that, stoic as he was, he could not restrain an exclamation. ‘“What’s the matter, Suka?” asked Harvey. ‘“ T think I break my hand,” said Suka, endeavoring to “gain control over the an- guish as he followed his master inside. ‘“ Here, let’s see what is the matter,” said Bowyer, flashing the light on Suka. A careful examination showed that the valet had sprained his wrist which had come in for the brunt of the fall. “What an unfortunate thing!” ex- claimed Harvey, looking about him help- lessly. “Oh, don’t you care, Mr. Bowyer,” said Suka. ‘‘ Him might be much, much worse. Me think hand broke, but it only wrist. Oh, so much easier! Me glad.” Harvey failed to see cause for much rejoicing, but he finally figured it out that matters might be worse. A “ broken hand,” as Suka described it, was a far more serious thing than a sprained wrist. Harvey was glad for Suka’s sake as well as for his own that the injury was no more complicated, for he had no idea what he would have done had there been broken bones to be set. “Tt’s too bad, Suka,” he said. ‘“ Now you won’t be able to do anything at all.” THE ARGOSY. “Oh, you think so?” exclaimed the valet. ‘‘ You watch me. Me do great deal with other hand.” He tried to lift his right one, but let it drop with an exclamation of pain which he found it impossible to suppress. “We must fix your wrist immediately,” said Bowyer. “Yes, but how?” asked Suka. ‘“ We have nothing to fix with. Only thing to do, jus’ grin and be happy.”’ Harvey laughed. He couldn’t help it. And in doing so, he was amazed at him- self. Time and time again his friends and associates went to the greatest trouble to concoct funny stories with which to en- tertain him, and they did not bring forth so much as a smile. But here was the simple Jap who, despite all sorts of diffi- culties and adverse conditions, caused him actually to laugh. “Mr. Bowyer laugh. Suka_ glad,” commented the Jap. ‘“ Me no laugh jus’ now—but later on, I hope.”’ ““T hope so,” said Harvey. “I trust we shall all laugh later on,” he added. ‘“ But we must bandage your wrist, Suka!” A sudden inspiration seized him. He reached in his pocket and brought forth two fine linen handkerchiefs. “The very thing!” he exclaimed. “Oh, no,” protested Suka. Bowyer will need them. other.” “Oh, bosh! What do I care,” rejoined the millionaire. ‘“ Here, I'll tear off a piece of one and use that as a handker- chief. The rest will serve for bandages.” Harvey smiled to himself as the thought of his friends at home came to him. Tif they could have seen him at that moment, carefully putting aside a fragment of an expensive handkerchief as he prepared to bandage his valet’s arm! Harvey Bowyer, who had never bothered about anybody or anything! Conditions were all changed. He won- dered if he were not dreaming. And he tried to think what the other fellows would have done in a similar position. Mr. He hav’ no COMmMiCOooolkX (C@