Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

A MAN FO for blows barred by all codes of decency and fair play, intent to main. Lund had got his shoulders against the rocks and stood with open hands, watching the two with their knives, who crept in, foot by foot, to make a finish. Peggy Simms, a strand of her pale yel- low hair whipped loose, flungsit out of her eyes as she stood on the edge of the cliff, her lips apart, her breasts rising stormily, watching; her features changing with the tide of battle as it surged beneath her, punc- tuated with muffled shouts and wind-clipped oaths. She saw Lund at bay, and snatched out her pistol. But the distance was too great. She dared not trust her aim. Sandy, dancing in and out, willing but helpless, bound by fear and lack of muscle, saw Deming, followed by Beale, stealing up the trail, unnoticed by the girl, who leaned far forward, watching the fight, her eyes on Lund and the two creeping closer with their knives, cautious but determined. Tamada stood farther back and could not see them. The lad’s wits, sharpened by his f’o’c’sle experience, surmise what Deming and Beale were after as they gained the promon- tory flat and ran toward the fires. “Hey!” he shrilled. ‘“ Look out; they’re after the tools!” Deming’s hand was stretched toward a shovel, it’s steel scoop sharp as a chisel. Beale was a few feet behind him. They were going to toss the shovels and drills down to the seamen. Tamada turned. His face did not change, but his eyes gleamed as he thrust a. dipper in the steaming remnants of the pea-soup and flung the thick, blistering mass fair in Deming’s face. At the same moment the girl’s pistol cracked with a stab _of red flame. Beale dropped, shot in the . neck, twisting like a snake, rolling down the trail to the beach again. Deming; howling like a scorched devil, clawed with one hand at the sticky mass that masked him as he ran blind, wild with pain. He tripped, clutched, and lost his hold, slid on a plane of icy lava, smooth as glass, struck a buttress that sent him off at a tangent cown the face of the cliff, bound- ing from impact with an outthrust elbow of 27T the rock, whirling into space, and down into the icy turmoil of the waves, flooding into the inlet. HIS MATE. Peggy Simms fled down the trail with a steel drill in either hand, straight across the beach toward Lund. The Finn turned on her with a snarl and a side-swipe of his knife, but she leaped aside, dodged the other slow-foot, and thrust a drill at Lund, who grasped it with a cry of exultation, swinging it over his head as if it had been a bamboo. Hansen had shaken off his men, and came leaping in for the second drill. The knife fell tinkling on the frozen rock as Lund smashed the wrist of the Finn. The girl’s gun made the second would-be stabber throw up his hands while Hansen snatched his weapon, flung it over the far- ther cliff, and buffeted the seaman to the ground before he joined Lund, charging the rest, who fled before the sight of them and the threat of the bars of steel. Lund taughed loud, and stopped striking, using the drill as a goad, driving them in a huddled horde, like leaderless sheep, knee-deep, thigh-deep, into the water, where they stopped and begged for mercy while Hansen turned to put a finish to the sepa- rate struggles. It ended as swiftly as it had begun. One hunter could barely stand for his kicked knee, Rainey’s back was strained and stif- fening, Lund had lost a handful of his beard, and Hansen’s cheek was laid open. On the other side the casualties were more severe. Deming was drowned, his body flung up by the -tide, rolling in the swash. Beale was coughing blood, though not dangerously wounded. The Finn was crying over his broken wrist, all the fight out of him. Ribs were sore where not splin- tered from the drills, and the two bumped by Lund sat up with sorely aching heads. The courage inspired by the liquor was all gone; oozed, beaten out of them. They were cowed, demoralized, whipped. Lund took swift inventory, lining them’ up as they came timorously out of the water or straggled against the cliff at his order. Tamada had come down from the fires. Peggy had told of his share, and Sandy’s timely shout. Lund nodded at him in a friendly manner. vOOK (C@) (E@)