Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

36 kind of thing that gets so horribly talked about in the beastly newspapers. It isn’t done among nice people, really.” He sat down on the warm sand to battle it out with himself. As bravely as he could, he tried to present the thing before his own mind’s eye in all its absurdity. He carica- tured it in his thoughts, picturing Nellie Blaydon at that moment, sitting in her stateroom aboard Caprice, laughing quietly _ to herself at the ridiculous ease with which she had thus triumphed over one man whose accidental discoveries threatened to over- throw all of her shrewd plans. He imagined her once more, in the silence of the night, steering her swift boat down the coast to report to Carter and the man with the deep voice and Matt—and Heaven only knew how many others were in the plot—to report the complete subjugation of one opponent by means which e vi0- lence unnecessary and which were more ef- fectual than gags and brass knuckles. But, for all his conscientious striving, rea- son and common sense fled before the mem- ory of her deeply troubled eyes, of her earnest voice, of the genuine pressure of her hand in his and the vibrant, “I need you very, very much.” In spite of it all, he would keep his word with her. He would stay. He would re- main quietly and uncomplainingly, ready to spring to her defense when she called. And, if the end proved that he had played the fool, he could go away without cause _to reproach her, for his eyes were wide open and his warnings against her were ample. But, if he were to be her ally here, how much of what he knew should he tell Ste- phen Blaydon? Were uncle and niece work- ing altogether in harmony in the mystery that surrounded the yacht? Did not many of the events of the past week tend to show that the girl had plans of her own and that she was including her uncle in them only to an extent that suited her? - It seemed impossible to conceive of Nel- lie Blaydon as an arch-conspirator, yet, as he mentally reviewed the evidence that he had discovered, he began to believe that, in some way, she had managed to delay the coming of her uncle to Sea View until she had completed whatever steps were neces- sary in the dilemma in which she found her- self, He muttered a curse at his inability to reach a sane decision. Adven ture “Brain’s all gone,” he said to himself. “Right or wrong, I’m with her.” He turned to the problem of Stephen Blaydon again, but he had scarcely faced it squarely, before his ears caught the sound - of labored breathing and the crunching of the sand near by. He turned to find Mrs. Herriot coming toward him from the tents. “T’m conscientious, anyhow,” she said. “My latest doctor has ordered me to take exercise and now I’ve done it for the rest of the week. I got down that dinky little ladder all by myself; what do you think of that?” . Ward rose with an involuntary smile at her ruddy face, though inwardly he resented this interruption to his thoughts. “T should say you are getting along fa- — mously,” he said. “It must have been quite a job.” “Yes, it was. You see, my architecture is not of the ladder-climbing period. I came down to see that machine that Nellie says you fly, but when I saw you sitting out here, and put two and two together, I made up my mind we wouldn’t talk about flying- machines at all. What you need is a good spanking and I only wish I felt better able to give it to you.” He stared at her in blank amazement. “Really—I’m afraid I don’t quite under- stand.” “Oh, come now. Yes, youdo. You un- derstand perfectly well what I mean, and you’re thinking right this minute what a garrulous, inbevietlng old woman I am and how you wish I was a man so that you could swear at me. Go ahead and swear, if you like. The late John Herriot was the fluentest swearer you ever heard, but I was raised in a mining-camp so you can’t make me scream. Young man, I’m telling you for your own good: you Keep your eyes away from Nellie Blaydon.”’ He felt the hot blood mount flaming to his cheeks. Involuntarily his fists clenched and he had taken a menacing step toward her before he realized that it was a woman talking to him in this astounding way and that he was helpless to retort. But Mrs. Herriot did not flinch. She stood calmly before him, her head nodding sagely and her self-confident eyes gazing at him, not in enmity but with the friendliest expression of motherly good-will. “Go ahead; say it,” she advised. “It'll do you a lot of good to get it out of your Gomicbooks (E@)