Adventure, December 1914 — page 177: what you’re looking at

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

The West Altieri by the shoulder and shook him, first gently then roughly. “One damn fellow—he in room!” she cried aloud. Smith dropped the billy-can with a startled oath and leaped for the door. He met the hurtling figure of Altieri in the door- way. Smith clutched the other by the throat. The pair struggled through the door, Al- tieri clinging to the larger man. There was the flash of steel in the moonlight—once, twice, three times, as the knife desosnded. The Thing that was Altieri lay limp,‘ ce up, a spreading pool of blood turning tiie white sand black in the night-light. Smith, with a swift look about, disap- peared around the corner of the workshop and, seeking the shadows, hurried toward the lights and noises of the boozing-kens. Tom Gee Bong slpped from behind Altieri’s shack and stood over the mur- dered man. The woman came from the hut and joined him. Leaning over the body, Tom Gee Bong loosened the blood-soaked shirt-front and thrust his hand within. He straightened up and spoke to the woman, and the two hurried off toward the harbor. vet lites stumbled out of the House of : * McManus and laid a zigzag course for the next port. Smith detached himself from the darkness of the McManus exterior and stumbled along with them. An hour later Smith left the revelers and reeled drunkenly across the sand to his own shack. Inside, the door closed and bolted, Smith dropped his insobriety and lighted a lamp. He sat down at the table itm CAPTAIN WAYNE and his satel- 175 and prepared, for the first time, to examine his prize. He fingered the hard lump in the chamois- skin bag with a thrill; opened the draw- string—and there rolled out into his expect- ant palm a plain white beach-pebble and a folded piece of paper. Smith stared at the pebble in unbelief. Mechanically he opened the paper. With an oath he jumped to his feet and dashed out of the shack. He ran swiftly the few hundred yards through the town to the beach. He headed for his skiff. The skiff was gone; and the spot where his yawl had lain at anchor was now only water. And John Smith raged up and down the beach, a stream of blasphemy running from his lips. A silent group of men came running down the street to the beach. The little half- naked Chinese boy who led them pointed to the cursing figure at the water’s edge. “John Smith!” said the khaki-clad trooper. “In the name. of the King—for murder!”’ | “You bloody thief,” cried the sobered and wrathful Wayne. ‘“‘What have you done with the pearl? Search him Riley! Search him!” John Smith looked at the group and laughed. “You lose,” he said to Wayne; and he extended his hand with the crumpled piece of paper. By the light of a lantern they read: My DEAR Mr. SmITuH: Pearl-skinners always carry the stuff in a chamois around the neck. We have borrowed your yawl. Thank you for your assistance. Tom Grr Bone. THE WEST BY MARY CAROLYN DAVIES A Gar life in the saddle, A quick shot at the end; The smile of a lass, the lip of a glass, And the oath of a friend. A foot deep in the leather, A hand light on the rein, A day in the blue, a pal that’s true, And a grave on the plain. Who would pine for a hearth-fire? Who'd die in a bed— When there’s room to die ’neath the blue range sky, And stars overhead? DOOK (C©