Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

TOTEM SIGNS. weapon and grasped it roughly. “I stop at nothing but murder,” he cried sharply, “ but I do stop at that. There’ll be no killing while you're around me. Understand that.” “But it’s MacGregor!” shouted Ford, struggling against the other’s greater strength. ‘IT don’t care who it is. Count me out if you plan to kill. Ill use my craft for fishing first. Get below to the engine.” The other yielded, but a less courageous man than Markey might have noticed he yielded too readily for sincerity. ‘‘ Very well,” he answered in good English, “I won’t kill him—now.” ' A bland smile on the half-breed’s face covered the hate in his heart. He made his way below, limping slightly. Once or twice ‘muttered words fell from his lips and the accompanying motions smacked of strange aboriginal rites long forgotten by the pres- ent day native. Deep within his black heart he made a promise—the second he had made that day. Markey steered a course well away from the point and though his mind was on his work, yet from time to time he regarded the half-breed Ford with suspicious eyes. Something unusual was taking place in the man’s life, something he could not fathom. Slowly his hand reached within his shirt as if to assure himself the pistol he carried in the shoulder holster was still there. When he withdrew his hand he left the shirt unbuttoned. Once when he was unobserved he went for the gun as if to learn just how quickly the weapon could be drawn. Apparently this satisfied him. Finally he placed a pocket mirror in the open wheelhouse win-. dow. It was placed carelessly, apparently, but it gave a comprehensive view behind. The vibration of the engine jarred the mir- ror from its place a moment later. ‘Seven years bad luck!” cried Markey, as it clattered to deck and brought up against a rail post. But it did not break. He lashed the wheel and stepped forward to recover it. Something unusual, unusual for the Daisy Jane at least, caught his eye. He stooped and picked it up. A woman’s hairpin, small, dainty, of the “ invisible ” 825 variety. The bow of the craft contained two small bunks by way of fo’c’s’le. The hatch covering through which access was gained was not only drawn, but locked. Markey tapped the covering reflectively with his foot. Certainly it was strange to find hairpins aboard. There hadn’t been a woman on the craft in three weeks. He knew because he had not left it in that time, and yet— Through the sole of his rubber boot he felt a faint tapping. He half turned. A Knife gleamed in Ford’s hand as he leaped toward Markey. All the hate of the half- caste enraged was in his face. The knife slashed viciously in an arc. Markey was cool, the glint in his eyes matched the half-breed’s as he struck the hateful face with his fist. The breed’s feet left the deck by a full six inches, then half sitting in the air, he splashed overboard. Markey leaped to the wheel in time to pre- vent an inshore current piling them on a low reef. He had little time to glance back for the next few minutes, as the vessel was running at top speed and rocks spread in a network around them. When he cleared the last fringe the water behind was unbroken, ex- cept for the ragged heads of half sub- merged rocks. Slowly he made his way to the hatch and with a heavy hammer broke the lock. He was prepared to find most anything below, and yet when the hatch covering was lifted clear he was dumfounded at what he saw. For once in his life he did not know what course to follow; then he slowed down the engine, lashed the wheel and climbed with difficulty into the fo’c’s’le. CHAPTER III. THE SIGN OF THE TOTEM. OB MACGREGOR waited on the point thirty-six hours before a passing craft answered his hail. Having a fair idea of the Daisy Jane’s occupation he was not surprised she had ignored him. One or two other gasboats studied him through binoculars, then sped away. A stranded deputy marshal interested them COMIGD OOo! (©