Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

220 “But not with that,” said Sparks, tak- ing it away from him. Mr. Vail draped himself heavily upon a seat. “I’m through with offers,” he said. “The contract stands—precisely as it is!” There was an alarming dash of triumph in the way Mr. Vail made the announce- ment. His voice, Sparks felt, was not the voice of a beaten man. Of course Mr. Vail had learned, some- how, of the precious deposit beneath the hill of coral rock, and, realizing his folly in having let it slip through his hands, in- tended to get it back; but not, Sparks swore, if he could help it. He hastily re- viewed the contract in his mind and could find no reason for Mr. Vail’s apparent ease. “ That suits me,” he said. “ And also, young man, since you insist upon it, me. I gave you your chance, re- member, so don’t come whining to me when the thirty days are done and asking for any extension. You won’t get it.” Mr. Vail grew almost jovial. “ The fact that there’s a time limit clause doesn’t seem to bother you. It should. Let me call your attention to this: if a single block of the final load is not delivered by so much as even one second after midnight of the ter- mination of the thirtieth day from the one on which that contract was signed, the whole thing is null and void, and you get” —Mr. Vail hereupon indulged in a pet little laugh of his own—‘ nothing!” It was apparent that Mr. Vail considered this to be in the nature of a Parthian shot, for he scrambled onto the pier and, leav- ing behind him a wake that he intended to be sinister in the extreme, vanished in the direction of the house. Sparks thoughtfully jumped to the pier himself, to cast off the tender’s line. Bar- ring unforeseen accidents, he knew he could pull through. Mr. Vail was too good a sport, he was certain, personally to put any obstructions in his path; on the other hand Mr. Vail would not make any effort to re- move ones that chance might cast. He looked at his watch and saw that an hour, in all, had been wasted. Hours, in -view of Mr. Vail’s sudden determination to live up to the letter of the contract, were henceforth priceless, inasmuch as one single ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. lost second might, at the climax, prove fatal. | He leaned over to leap into the tender when a hand, placed heavily upon his shoul- der, checked him. “George Fielding Mortimer Buntz,” snapped a cold, hard voice, “I arrest you in the name of the law!” Sparks stood up. He looked at the metal shield, brilliant in the moonlight; looked at the heavy, beefy face of the con- stable. “You can’t,” he said, still confused after the shock of hearing his real name. ‘“ Not for the next fourteen days.” “Fourteen days!” snorted the constable. “You'll be lucky if you get off with life. The charge is murder.” CHAPTER XII. THE UNKNOWN. VEN the most contained sort of hu- man nature can only stand so much. Beyond a certain point the strain is bound to become too great and restraint snaps. Sparks had fairly well reached that point. From the night, now over two weeks ago, when the Finnish cook and he had had a slight culinary argument which had result- ed in his being cast like so much bread upon the waters, his life had been so fre- quently threatened that he had begun to feel as if somebody or other was picking on him, and here, at one of the most critical moments of his plans, was a person who had the colossal audacity and impudence to accuse him, perpetually on the point of being murdered, of murder. It was too much. He had no more idea than the man in the moon that his right hand was moving until he felt its clenched fist making con- tact with the point of the constable’s thick chin. Nor even then, after the constable had dropped to the pier, did he pause to dissect his actions. Like a bag of meal he lowered the con- stable into the tender, and, casting off, turned her nose toward the Princess. Hav- COMMICLMOoOoks (C@