Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

THE BANDIT OF BATAKALAND. wouldn't wait for my pay, I’d leave as. quick as I could go, ’cos the comp’ny’s got it in for you, or they’d never have made you manager, three months after the last manager left, and they said there wouldn’t be no need of another till the mine started up again. They ain’t hired you to set round twiddling your thumbs for nought, Mr. Gervaise. They’m slick, them comp’ny men, and they’m playing their own game, especially now that Mr. Eltzmann’s come in. “J ain’t a fool, sir. There was two strange men here yesterday, riding on hosses. Great haste they was in, and they said you was a-coming, and great keer was to be took of you, and they’d drop in for a friendly visit soon. They laughed when they said that. “And they opened the safe with their own keys and put the gold in, after weigh- ing it before my eyes. And they made me give ’em a receipt for it, and said it warn’t necessary to tell you, unless I was tired of my job. At first ’d thought they was independents, but when I seed that gold I knew they was Mr. Wimborne’s men all right. And I heered them talking and laughing about you, and it wasn’t no good they had in mind, so far as I could judge. “‘T’m going, sir. I’ve seed that plant be- fore, and they ain’t going to send Tom Binns to the breakwater. You take keer of yourself, sir. You watch out for that damn comp’ny. Maybe it’s just an old man’s ideas, Mr. Gervaise. But you watch out— and keep your gun handy, sir!” An old man, with the typical grievance and suspicions of the prospector. Dean could not determine how much of Tom’s talk was a fixed obsession, whether he really had knowledge of the location of a rich alluvial deposit. But one thing was clear enough: the development of the Fulani Fields had been suspended indefinitely. And another—some plot was brewing, and Eltzmann had had a spasm of conscience before he implicated him. But why had Eltzmann and Wimborne been so anxious to secure his services? A few drops of rain had begun to fall heavily in the dust. That was the sign of the wet season’s onset: once the rains broke _ there would be torrential daily downpours 363 throughout the summer months till March. Dean left Tom muttering and made his way back toward his cottage, lit his candle, and went into the bedroom. Profound and raucous snores greeted him. Newman, the engineer, was lying dead drunk upon his bed, an empty whisky-bot- tle at his side. He had hardly moved all day, and doubtless was on a periodical drunk. The sight of him set Dean flaming into swift anger. The little annoyance seemed the culmination of the day. He strode to the bedside and shook the engineer vigor- ously by the shoulders. But Newman’s head flopped back upon the pillow like a chunk of lead: the man was almost in a state of coma. For a moment Dean was tempted to drag the man out of the cottage and let him sleep off his stupor upon the veldt, rain or no rain. But the engineer had gone there by force of habit, and the sight of the soiled bed, and the clothes scattered over the floor disgusted Dean too much to make the bedroom a possible habitation for him that night. The air, too, was full of the smell of exhaled whisky. The. place would have to be thoroughly cleaned before Dean could think of taking up his quarters there. He went out. There was a shack near by, and he guessed that Newman had previously occupied it. Prob- ably it would do to pass the night in, since the engineer had not occupied it of late. He made his way toward it. The sprinkle of rain was growing heavier, and Dean had just reached the shack when there came a resounding thunder-clap, and instantly the heavens were opened. The water poured down in bucketfuls, as if some celestial housemaid were emptying giant pails. Instantly the ground was an inch deep in water, which went roaring down the dried gullies toward the Fulani. The ground was white with hail, which hammered against the little window-pane as if to break it. Vivid flashes of forked lightning pierced the intense darkness al- most continuously. The thunder was like the roar of a dozen batteries. Striking a match when he had closed the door against the wind, Dean found a candle COmicClboolks.Gonn