Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

~~ * ee « ah. a doctor of divinity but is human; and for one flickering instant the point of Barbar- roja had licked at his throat. He parried, lunged again, pressed the attack with a colder skill, a more supple wrist. Barbar- roja escaped only by a backward leap, dis- engaging. Shaw was upon him instantly. Again the thin blades met and twined, and hung suspended with life wavering in the balance. “We were speaking of that Frenchman,” pursued Barbarroja, again twirling his red mustache. “ He thought I jested, even as you think, little senor! And the point in my red beard—Dios! Have a care with that riposte—the point was tangled in my beard, sevor, and my own point pricked him very neatly in the throat—thus—”’ Barbarroja laughed very heartily; and midway of the laugh lunged like a demon. In and out flickered his blade, a very tongue of death, and his eyes glared in sudden hot ferocity for blood. Shaw evad- ed that licking tongue by a hair; it reached around him, baffled him, bore him desper- ately backward. He fought only by inspiration, his eyes upon the blazing stare of Barbarroja, his blade fending off the slithering death by sheer intuition. This could not last long, and Shaw knew it. He was driven back and back, while ever those blood-hot eyes glared upon him, and the Toledo slid ever with more deadly lust. Now he was growing weary. Abruptly Shaw gathered himself to- gether, so abruptly that in the very midst of his retreat he plunged forward. The two blades went upward, locked at the hilts; then Shaw thrust back and forward again, leaped away, stood on guard. It was all in a flash. Barbarroja moved not. He stared at Shaw with an expression of dismayed con- sternation. Then, unexpectedly, the To- ledo dropped from his hand. Across his breast surged a sudden wide flare of crim- son. His knees crumpled; he plunged for- ward on his face and lay quiet. “ Whether he died from the point,” mur- _m™mured Shaw, panting, “or from sheer _ amazement that I pinked him—’tis all one. DOWN THE COAST OF BARBARY. 527 From the three ruffians came a wild, hoarse yell—a shout of mingled rage, de- spair, and fright. They broke and ran for the horses. With a rush, a scramble, a flood of hot oaths, they mounted and took to flight. Dr. Shaw gazed after them, wide-eyed. Then he felt the hand of Mis- tress Betty seize his arm—heard her voice crying out at him: “Look! Look—it is he—Spence!” Shaw whirled about. There, upon the road, he beheld a cloud of dust, and far ahead of the dust three riders already drawing close—the foremost of them Spence. An instant later Spence was reining up beside them, while his men whirled on in pursuit of the three escaping rogues. “Good!” cried Spence, exultantly shak- ing hands. “The old governor scented something amiss in your departure —he said I might catch up with you, so I came along. Shaw, what’s been going on here? Why did you leave town, Mistress Betty?” There was a moment of hurried explana- tions as all spoke at once. Then the girl seized upon the story, and Spence heard of what had taken place. Soberly he nod- ded at mention of Mulai Ali’s death. ‘ Aye, we heard of his death—Ripperda was carried off his feet with delight. He is a gracious scoundrel, that Ripperda! Hel- lo, Shaw, what are you up to?” They turned. Dr. Shaw was muttering over the Toledo, which he had picked up. Now he lifted his face to them, his eyes gleaming with delight. “ Look!” he cried. ‘‘ The rascal told the truth! This graving says that the blade was made at Toledo, in the year 368 of the Moslem calendar, by special order of the great Almansur of Cordova! To think of such a sweet tool—a historic relic —eight hundred years of age.” “Thrust it into your scabbard and let us be gone—with congratulations on your victory, doctor! A noble fight. But Rip- perda is awaiting you, and so keep your wits about you.” Shaw stared with fallen jaw. Ripperda! “Then look to yourself, Patrick!” he cried suddenly. “ This miki ire me that it is known yow@usiss slo. cox