Adventure, February 1917 — page 186: what you’re looking at

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

184 a long, sailmaker’s needle, we found no trace of the papers. “Tt seemed clear then that Mrs. Carew had them, and, not wishing to give Schwartz a chance to communicate with her, I asked © him to put on his clothes and come with us tomy room. He agreed without hesitation. ** Vell, yess, I come!’ “While ‘he was dressing, Brock crawled back to his cabin and completed his own. toilet. His manner was bad enough, with- » out adding to it by his costume.” Ragan paused to light a cigar; and before he resumed his story, Wilkins, the laconic first officer, appeared on the steps which led down from the chart-room. “The Empress of Asia is just coming in.’ “From Shanghai?” asked Ragan. “From Shanghai, sir,” returned the offi- cer and disappeared up the stairs. across the room. He seemed less abrupt than he had when I first inquired about Brock; evidently telling the story was clarifying his own impressions. “Hindsight is better than foresight,” he continued after a brief reflection. ‘I should have suspected that Agnes Caither — or rather Mrs. Carew as she is now calling her- seli—had something up her sleeve. I con- fess she outguessed me. As for your friend THE lanky captain emitted a cloud _ Brock, he seemed helpless, lost, as spine- _ less as a jellyfish. “After we had come up here with _ Schwartz, I sent Wilkins down for Mrs. Carew. He brought back a message that she was sick and could not leave her berth. “Then I went down myself; but it was not until. I had knocked three times that thedoor suddenly opened and she stood in it confronting me. She wore a blue silk dressing-gown which she held gathered at ~ her throat, and her light hair hung in two long plaits over her shoulders. I must say _ I don’t wonder at her hold on men she tries _ to captivate. ~ “Tf she was surprised to see me—I hadn’t egekEn to her on the trip, and she could not be sure that I had recognized her—she did not show it in her manner. Instead she seemed hopping mad, and asked, as dis- courteously and shortly as though she had _ been speaking to her Chinese room-boy— “What do you want? > EA eo —s et = < » gad | yf Adventure & of smoke which drifted in circles” _ me. you, Miss. Caither,’ I answered, purpose- ly using her former name. “She looked at me levelly, apparently not the least disconcerted. “‘ ‘Then you are mistaken,’ she said, ‘and you will please address me by my proper © name. I am Mrs. Carew.’ _“T then asked her to come up to my cab- a in, but she refused. ** “T have a wretched headache,’ she said. ‘Please .don’t send any more people down here to pound on my door.’ “She made a movement to shut me out as she finished speaking, but I forestalled her by stepping inside. “* ‘Headache or not, you must either come up to my cabin with me; or I must have. yours searched with you in it,’ I told her. “She studied me for a moment; then her manner changed. ** *T don’t in the least know what it is all about, Captain Ragan, but I do know that you have the reputation of being a gallant sailor. Of course you wouldn’t inconve- nience a woman unless you felt that it was unavoidable, so I shall try to come.’ Then she smiled and added: ‘You don’t mind my getting dressed do you? It will only take a few minutes.’ “T have known many women in my day; but never one who could put into her voice the throaty, seductive sweetness that Mrs. Carew gets into hers when she tries. It simply goes through you and takes your breath. For a moment f felt like a brute, and I think I apologized as I stepped through the door. “Once outside, however, it occurred to me that she might try to smuggle the papers out of her cabin while I waited for her. But a glance into the adjoining cabins reassured They were empty, and there were no more holes—you may be sure I looked out for that. If she had the papers with her, she would have to conceal them either in her cabin or on her person; and I made up my mind that both would be searched. “She may have brought her headache out with her, but I confess she did not look it. She wore the simple, black suit in which she had come aboard—clothes that had Paris stamped all over them—and a little round, brimless hat, pulled down over her hair, leaving a golden frame outlining her face. She looked more like a young, innocent girl than she did like the shrewdest adventuress in the Oren’ COMIC IOOL< (E@)