Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

52 And Dean, without the slightest change of expression, launched himself, head. low, ~ squarely at him. Dean went into action with one swift, complete movement, like a trained acrobat diving from a springboard. He met Bur- chard head on, with a force of a battering ram, and Burchard went down with a crash. The pistol exploded with Burchard’s fall, making a terrifying roar in the cabin. Burchard and Dean were locked in a des- perate embrace. The floor shook beneath the impact of their bodies. A thud told of one skull meeting the planks. They rolled over and over, shoes ham- mering, crashing into furniture, panting, grunting, snarling like a pair of dogs. Through the window leaped a bulky fig- ure—Blye. Grotesquely bandaged, stooped low, and moving with the quick grace of a cat, the sailing-master made a strange, mur- derous picture. He dodged about the fight- ers, a knife in his hand. And the three who. had hesitated in ‘the doorway at this moment lunged in together. All this Marta had seen happen with a clarity and detail that made time stand still. Probably less than a minute had passed. Then she saw no more. Without any notion how it happened she found a chair swinging in her raised hands. The wrap slipped from her, laying bare her soft, white shoulders, and rounded arms. The heavy chair flew crashing into the faces of the three sailors. Her hands snatched up a solid wooden stool. The hard wood, sharp-cornered, met Blye’s skull with a soft, sickening tunk/ Blye gasped and crumpled up. The flying chair had gone low, tangling the three sailors in a cursing knot. They were up again, fast enough. One heavy boot sent the chair crashing into the wall. Another leaped his struggling com- rade. Then they hesitated, facing a woman, at a disadvantage before her sex. “Get that girl. Grab her. Damn you all, do something!” Burchard had Dean flat. He panted commands over his shoul- der at the staring three. A tow-haired fellow with a great, droop- ing blond mustache took him seriously. He charged Marta. v7 Hah! ”? THE ARGOSY, The wooden stool caught him on the arm and his loud bellow told his hurt. He struggled back through his charging com- panion, holding his arm with the uninjured hand, mouth hanging open foolishly, rock- ing on his flat feet. The stool rose again, describing an arc of death before the girl. Two men were dodging busily, bombarding each other with orders to “ Mix in—rush her!” Burchard had two strong hands about Dean’s throat and Dean ceased to struggle with a terrible suddenness.. He went limp. Burchard hesitated, shifted his knee tenta- tively. Dean might have been dead. Burchard turned his head to watch the other fight, relaxing his body, shifting his weight. The man beneath him doubled like a steel spring, rose, and sent him off his balance. He collided with the solid wall and the shock sent a dozen loose objects crashing down from the shelf under the eaves. Before Burchard knew it Dean grappled him about the waist and swung him from his feet. Dean rose to his full height, heaving Bur- chard upward in his arms. Dean’s face was discolored and bleeding freely. were bared and the gray eyes burned like His teeth . red coals. He was a magnificent figure of | battle in that lurid moment, ‘his legs braced, swinging Burchard wide, ready to hurl him bodily. Nor was Marta in the least ladylike now. The straps of her corsage had broken and one shoulder and side lay bare to the waist. Her black hair flew in disorder, and her “mouth was a thin, murderous line. Her eyes, dilated abnormally, held a catlike glare. . “‘ Dean!” 7 Her scream made Dean hesitate for the flicker of an eyelash. Something shining whispered across the room and _ pinned Dean’s arm against the plank wall. Blye was on his knees, crouched against the heavy table, his arm stretched straight, fingers extended as they had released the singing knife, the frosty blue eyes shining like twin diamonds and his jaw and mouth twisted askew. Dean cut short Blye’s triumphant: He twitched his arm free of the GOMmlepoo (-) CO