Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

AMERICANS the lightning drop, the lightning tackle of the invisible Guanaman’s knees—and through the gloom came: ‘“What’s the trouble?” It was a sharp voice, yet strangely familiar. Following it, another of the pocket fflash-lights blazed out — and amazement came into the voice and a note of sharp anxiety: ‘‘ Senor Hemmett! too! You, fellow! Drop that rifle! sehores—”’ A torrent of Spanish assailed him, com- ing from both sentries. .Hemmett’s voice shook with relief as he demanded: “Ts that Luis Engoro?”’ “Tt is Luis Engoro, lieutenant of the Guanaman navy, senor!” the anxious voice reported. ‘‘ But you, semnores! What are you doing here where none may comer Why—” ‘“‘ Never mind what we’re doing here— get us out of it!”’ Girton put in as steps approached from the other side of the wall. ‘“‘ This is no time for argument, kid! Remember that Hemmett and I fed And Senor Girton, The your whole family for six months, three . years ago, Luis! Remember that Hem- mett and I came across with the cash for the operation that saved your life and—” ‘But how can I forget, senor?” young Engoro cried agonizedly. “It is that which wrings my heart, because — enough! Come! Come quickly!” He was a person of some authority in this accursed neighborhood. The sentries had permitted themselves to be swallowed up in the gloom, and Luis Engoro was reaching out toward Hemmett and Gir- ton -with both hands. They caught the hands and clung to them, and Engoro started straight down the steep bank toward the water. Al- though it was not so very steep, was it? And a very broad flight of steps had grown up since their last visit to this particular spot! Above, by the gateway, flash-lights were twinkling at intervals and voices rising in heated Spanish, but they did not pause to listen. AFTER ALL. 369 Engoro knew his way, and even now he was leading them along a narrow little dock. And now he stopped. “Down here, senores!”’ he whispered. ‘It is the tender of the Almiranta—see! I shall put you ashore in the city.” If the tender had owned an engineer, he was elsewhere. Engoro himself set the quiet motor to humming as they cast off. Engoro, at the wheel, turned the little craft out into the harbor—and they were safe! It had been a rather narrow squeak; aud not that either Girton’s brow nor Hemmett’s was without a warm, shiny film induced mainly by excitement! But they were safely away from one of the world’s big arms factories, and nobody had elected to shoot after them, and with every turn of the screw lurid thoughts pounded through two brains that had grown altogether too much accustomed to the peacefully conventional! Week after week, month after month, they had fairly been sitting atop a plot of such magnitude as Guanama had never known before. Where it had _ started, where it might end, whither might extend its present ramifications, no man could say; but that it had corrupted at least one of Guanama’s more intelligent youth was proved by Engoro’s presence at that wheel and his utter silence. ‘ Luis!’ Girton said suddenly. ‘“‘ Come out with the truth! Do you _ under- stand?” ‘““T understand, sefor, but it is impos- sible,” said Engoro thinly. “I beg of you, senor, that the—the matter be left undiscussed. I have saved you.” ‘““And we’re grateful, Luis, and that doesn’t alter the fact that this is one of the things that can’t be left undis- cussed!”” Hemmett said firmly. ‘“ You come out with the truth, boy!” “ T cannot!” ‘Why not?” ‘“ Because, even for what I have done, I may pay with my life!” answered the young man. “ Should I speak freely, who can say what will befall me?” MICLOOOK C©