Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

‘plain enough to me, who know him better than most men know their brothers. ‘Thank Heaven, I’ve found you!” he exclaimed, fairly jumping at me. “ You're my last chance!”’ ‘“ What’s the trouble?” I asked. ‘‘ There’s no end of it unless you help me out,” he returned, sinking into a chair. rT Money?” “No. Listen. Savidge is in a bad hole, and has put me into another. I ought to have thought of his weakness. After look- ing for you and not finding you, he and I went for a short turn on the Great White Way. Well, never mind details. Billy is blind drunk—insensibly drunk—never mind where he got it—and can’t move. He fell and has a fearful pair of black eyes—and the ship sails at six o’clock—in just five hours. You know what that means.” I did know. Dr. Billy Savidge, an old collegemate, was the surgeon of. the liner Orion. That is not her name, but I am giving no true names for reasons which will become obvious. _ “ What are you going to do?” I asked, mightily interested. Fhe conditions were serious; for to have it known that the ship’s doctor was beastly intoxicated on the ¢ve of a voyage would ruin him. “Do!” said Durand. ‘There is only one thing to do. I can’t get a substitute doctor at this late hour, and I can’t sail without one. To confess to my share in getting Billy into his condition would break me. I would lose both position and license. You shake a free foot. You’ve got to fake it.” ““ What do you meaner” “TI mean that you’ve got to take Billy’s place en the way down.” I threw up my hands. shouted. “ Wait,” he said. “TI thought it all out before I came to you. It’s an easy thing. I. got him to his home—I arranged it with his wife. He'll be all right by to-morrow night, and he'll join the vessel at Savannah, going by rail, and no one will be the wiser. - By Heaven, Kent! Your taking his place is the only thing that can save us.” ‘Good Lord, but I’m no doctor,” I re- turned. “I know nothing of medicine.” THREE DAYS OF IT. “What!” I $17 “ Suppose — nothing,” interrupted Du- rand. ‘‘ You won’t have a thing to do but wear Billy’s uniform and look wise. Noth- ing ever happens but sea-sickness, and the steward takes care of most of the cases— gives them pickled onions and makes them lie on their backs. But the law says I must have a doctor aboard. Can’t you see?”’ ‘‘T see,” I said, with the hesitation that told me I was lost, for by the way Durand put it I could not discover how I was to suffer. Beside, the thing had the smack of adventure, and the more I thought of it the more it appealed. Durand was watching my face. “ You'll “IT. suppose so,” I said. ‘‘ For Billy’s sake. As for you, you ought to be cashiered for leading him astray.”’ ‘‘ Curse me all you want to,” he replied, his anxious expression relaxing. ‘ Pack up and let’s be off. I’ve got to be aboard by four o’clock, when the United States mail arrives.” | “Then there’s plenty of time for a cigar —and I want to catch my breath,” I re- turned, shoving the humidor over to him. ‘‘ Tll have James slip some clothes into a steamer trunk and call a taxi.. How many passengers have you?” | “We're flying light this trip,” said Du- rand, nervously puffing on his cigar. ‘‘ There’s only one name I know. Mlle. Zingaria. She’s an actress of uncertain age. Always sails with me at this time of year. Won’t go by rail because she can’t show off her dresses and jewelry, I fancy. Makes a holy show of herself. But she won’t bother © you. Speaking of jewels—you had better bring your collection aboard and let me lock them up.” ““T don’t have to, Dick. They’ve been in safe deposit for three days.” ‘So much the better. Get your pack- ing under way. Pass the word for your man. Is he a divine in disguise? He looks it. Say, I’m nervous until I get you aboard.” I laughed and called James, directed him what to pack, and to summon a taxi as soon as finished. I then informed him I was about to leave town for a few days, an unnecessary precaution, as he had probably COM _) CINDOOL COlini