Argosy: The Short Story Magazine — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

88 | DAVID BEATY Kelston went over to Mr. Parkinson. He saw that the man had been frightened out of his wits. ‘This violent self-assertion was just the reaction. ‘“*T’m sorry you had such a rough trip, sir,” he said. But the man wasn’t going to let himself be smoothed down. Somewhat more intelligible now, he still seemed just on the edge of a nervous collapse. ‘I shall write ...Company.. .” he said, “| . certainly write Chairman . .. old friend. You,’’ and he pointed a finger at Kelston, “ not fit . . . aeroplane.” Kelston looked at him in exasperation. "Then he saw the man with the pointed beard, who had been the spokesman for the passengers when they were told about the Santa Lucinda, was beckoning him to come over to the other side of the ticket counter. “'That’s all right, Captain,” he said to him behind his hand, *€ T’ll smooth him down.” Kelston said, ‘‘ Thanks. Looks like being a lifetime’s work.” “TI am a sailor, Captain. A ship’s officer.’”’ He looked con-.- temptuously at the rest of Easy Zebra’s passengers, still half dazed from their experiences. “ They cannot.understand.”’ ‘“ Sometimes it’s difficult for them,’’ Kelston said, not without sympathy. Kelston walked down the long corridor on the first floor of the Carreras Hotel. A porter followed, carrying his shabby leather suitcase. At the far end the pilot waited, while the man fumbled with the key. ‘There was a tinkling jangle for a moment. It seemed to fit the lock badly. ‘Then there was a click and Kelston pushed the door open with the flat palm of his hand. Immediately, the Captain’s Room made him welcome. He felt soothed by the quietness which contrasted sharply with the bounc- ing turbulent air and the everlasting noise of the engines. He seemed suddenly to have entered the small isolated stillness in the heart of a storm. It had originally been the Bridal Suite. ‘There was a magnifi- cence about it that still managed to preserve a kindly discretion. The high ceiling was supported by Corinthian pilasters wreathed with gold leaf. In the centre a chandelier covered the electric light with a torrent of crystal drops. Though it was dark outside now, when the sun shone it glittered through large windows, crowned at the top with red and blue diamonds of stained glass; but at the pull of a velvet cord, brocade curtains of an understanding thickness would shut the daylight out. A damasked sofa waited beside a marble fireplace. The mahogany desk pined wordlessly for love-letters. The painted French wardrobe seemed specially designed to house the silks and satins of a bride’s trousseau. Now, it had to be content with a blue serge uniform. The desk was used mainly for working out fuel figures and endur- ances. Even the largest Captain was a little inadequate for the soft, voluptuous prairie of the bed. comiclooks.comn