Adventure, February 1917 — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

86 3 —- And she walked rather silent for the rest of the afternoon. | Next day at sunrise the Black Snake left for Scratchley Island, going slow, as she had to tow Pagt’s schooner behind her, and the Diamond stayed alone in Lalang Bay, with Jennifer aboard getting ready for a trip into the forest. Murua hung over the after rail to watch the Government launch until the corner of the island shut her off from sight. “T wish I had stayed,” was*the thought that beat in her brain. “Why didn’t I stay? Nothing matters —_ nobody" matters —as> much as Pups.” But Edith, with that strange new shadow on her face, came out of the cabin and sat down near Murua; and the young girl, see- ing, felt that, after all, there might be more need of her at Scratchley Island. Be- sides . . XII She would not follow up that “Besides.” ON SECOND and sober thoughts, Page repented having told his son i anything about possibilities of spoil on the island. He knew—none better— that Harold was not to be trusted; that the quarter or so of Jewish blood in his descent made him keen after money to the point of greed, and that once on the scent of gold —for gold it must be, argued Page; what else was there to get out beyond the Louisi- ~ades—he would cheerfully and willingly “do” his father at the very first chance, if it Seemed profitable. “And it mostly i is profitable when there’s two in it,’ mused Page, his thoughts wan- dering to "experiences of other days. ‘“‘Well, if I say nothing more about it, likely enough he’ll forget. He’s pretty well taken up with this reward business of his. Reward! More like blackmail, I call it. I always drew the line at business of that sort. As to the other thing, it’s fair game. A man has no right to keep gold-fields to himself. Why, I believe the law compels him to pro- claim them. Nice thing for a haw-haw, set- yourself-up sort of swab like Slade to go against the laws of his country. It will be. only an act of justice if I can find it.” For several days Captain Page worked harder than he had done for as many years, tramping morning and afternoon through every swamp and gully, over every peak of Adventure _ : Scratchley Island; searching for traces of ~ gold-working everywhere he went; testing a stream or two on his own account. The man who has knocked about for years in Papua, and who can not do a bit of pros- pecting when called oe is a very rare bird indeed. He satisfied himself hefots long that there was nothing on-Scratchley Island—nothing ‘but the red-shell fishery, and that seemed pretty well worked out. * “Looks to me as if he kept it up more as a blind than anything else,” thought Page. “Why a blind?” His soul grew hot within him at the thought of the valuable secret that might be shielded behind that veil. He wandered aimlessly. He searched where he was sure that nothing could-be found. He couldnot rest. Harold in the meantime was enjoying himself after his own fashion in a carnival of laziness. Page was scarcely a hard work- er, but sheer sensuous indolence, indulged for its own sake, was hardly in his way, and he used to wonder at times, when Harold _ took one of his indolent fits, whether the . strain of mixed blood was, after all, more mixed than the word “Jewish” would im- ply. ““He’s an odd beggar, Harold,” the father would say to himself over a meditative pipe. “‘After all, are the Jews really white? They’re Orientals—and her mother was a Jewess. Seems to me sometimes as if Har- old didn’t think altogether white. But bless the boy, there isn’t another like him in the world, if he is a nuisance sometimes. Handsome—clever. And as for his dashed laziness, why, just now I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”’ It seemed, indeed, as if he could not. Harold lay in bed till the growing heat of late morning drove him out, went barefoot and in pajamas, and spent his time cooking, eating and lying on the coolest lounge with a novel and a bit of something to nibble at. Occasionally he sang, when he did not hap- pen to have anything in his mouth, but that was not very often. Slade had brought up a number of small dainties in tins and cases forsEdith’s use, and Harold found much happiness and con- tent in going over them and sampling every- thing he could find. At times, well fed and growing noticeably fatter, he would sit out on the edge of the veranda overlooking the CORICGLOOO© SS (EO) (C