Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

196 even if they had been able to draw them it is doubtful if they would have dared to use them. Inf such darkness, at such close quarters there was always the danger of hitting friend instead of foe. “Damn you, Yank,” Ginger Dick pant- ed. “ You bring more bad luck than a bloomin’ magpie or thirteen black—”’ His voice ceased suddenly. A dull thud put a period to his sentence, and, at al- most the same time, Hardwick went down like a pole-axed bullock, struck on the back of his head by a knobkerrie. VI. WueEn Ginger Dick and Hardwick awoke to greet the sunrise of another day they looked at each other and their surround- ings with puzzled wonder. Each had uncomfortable memories of the night past; each had a large bump on the back of his head where he had been struck by a knobkerrie. Between the blows and their next consciousness time had elapsed— how long they had no way of telling, but each had unpleasant recollections of a long ride over bumpy ground—bound tightly to- gether and gagged -—at the bottom of a light, springless wagon. There had been much shouting in the native tongue, much cracking of a big driv- ing whip and the rattle of hoofs and the clatter of wheels as they moved at a swiit pace over the veldt. On they had traveled without a pause—the darkness of the Af- rican night gave place to the cold, hard light of the African moon; on they went, their speed scarcely slackening, over dried- up water courses, through rocky defiles and up a long, steep slope until at last they had come to a halt. Again they were left for a time, acutely miserable, endeavoring to free themselves, wondering who their captors were, fully convinced that some great evil was in store for them. Soon the babble of voices had recom- menced until one—clear, bell-like, seeming somehow familiar to Hardwick despite the strange language—sounded authoritatively and the clamor had ceased. A moment’s pause, and then a lantern ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. was suddenly thrust into the wagon and Hardwick was conscious of a pair of bright eyes examining him shrewdly through a slit in the wagon top. Then the lantern was withdrawn and the owner of the musi- cal voice gave another order, and a mo- ment later the two men had been carried from the wagon into a large hut and care- fully lowered onto two cots. There they were left to wonder once again as to the reason of it all. But con- jecture was useless; the morrow would doubtless bring its explanations, and, after a little while, sleep had claimed them both. But now, as they opened their eyes in the sunlit, roomy hut they found themselves free, the gags removed, and realized that they were lying on almost luxuriously soft mattresses. ‘“ Blimme!” said Ginger, and he could say no more, being somewhat awed by the feminine daintiness of his surroundings. He stared lugubriously at Hardwick, who whistled softly as his keen, observing eyes noted every little detail of the hut’s furnish- ings. It puzzled him. Evidently a woman— and a white woman—was responsible for their capture then. At least a woman had ordered the arrangement of the hut — he could not conceive of a man being respon- sible for the dainty chintz curtains which hung at the narrow window, or the bowl of yellow veldt flowers which stood on a table between the two camp beds. And he remembered now the clear, treble voice - which had stilled the confused clamor of the previous night. That voice was a wom- an’s. There was no doubt of that. Then, struck by a common thought, both men fumbled at their belts for their revolv- ers, but their hands came away empty. They felt in their pockets—the extra car- tridges had gone, too. They rushed to the door of the hut, but, as they reached it, two brawny native war- riors, armed with assegais, blocked their exit. “Indaba wena icona let mena hamba?”’ Ginger Dick asked angrily in the weird Kitchen Kaffir which, aided by curses and signs, takes a white man a long way in South Africa. At least the white man COMmMiCoooks a 4 (©