Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

THE ROARING FORTIES. Forbes’ face suddenly became purple, while his ugly jaw shot out. Springing up from his table, it seemed for a moment as though a fight were imminent. Everybody closed in quickly to restrain him. The air had become electric, the attention of all riveted on the rival shipowners now glaring at one another. “Tf you’re so insultingly sure, Captain Forbes, I’]l take you on. Tl lay you my Challenger against your Typhoon, ship for ship, the looser to be forfeit to the winner.” Even in the Astor House, in that atmos- phere of gamblers, and reckless plungers, such a bet had never before been heard. It was astounding. Forbes who had been flushed from much drinking, paled at the magnitude of the stakes. But he did not hesitate. ce V’m on” Almost before the crowd could draw breath, the wager was accepted. ‘‘One word more,” said Green. “What is it?” “In case that either vessel should be lost, the loser will forfeit to the winner thirty thousand pounds. “ Aye, that’s going a wee bit too far,” said a Glasgow Scot. But Forbes had now swept away even the thought of caution. “All right, VH lay thirty thousand pounds behind Typhoon, in case of wreck.” ‘Right you are,” said the a and the bet was closed. CHAPTER IV. NEWS OF THE FLEET. S the crowd dispersed, Captain Forbes Fe out alone. His carriage was waiting for him at the curb, but he was in no mood for driving home. Despatching the coachman, he set off on foot down the avenue. Crossing to Brooklyn in the Fulton ferry, he hired a horse, and rode far out on the Long Island shore, striving to catch a first glimpse of the English packet, com- ing in from sea. The weather was thick outside, and though he rode for several hours, clear out 487 to Gravesend Bay, he could descry nothing but impenetrable fog. There was some- thing in the mystery of that fog that filled the heart of Captain Forbes with haunting terror. He had always professed himself a fata- list, but to-night his philosophy seemed to fall away. Harassed by a thousand fezrs, he came back in the Fulton ferry just as the gray of day was disclosing the tower of Trinity Church, above the low sleeping skyline of Manhattan, On his return to the Astor House, Forbes discovered that during the night the packet ship had come in through the fog, while he looked for her in vain from the Long Island shore. Even at that early hour the hotel rotunda was thronged with shipping men, discussing the latest news in excited tones. A friend, noticing Forbes’s apprehensive look, exclaimed: ‘Why, hullo, captain, I never saw you like that before. What’s up?” ‘I suppose it’s the China race that’s got me jumpy,” said Forbes, with an un- steady voice. ‘‘ Have you heard the news?” “No, Dve just come in,” replied the other. ‘“Let’s join the crowd, and we'll get the latest.” They started toward an excited group, when Dickey Green, and the two tea mer- chants from Mincing Lane, standing by, caused Forbes to stop short. There was a ring of exultation in the English voices that went to his heart like a knell of doom. The friend, who was accompanying him, felt Forbes’s hand tremble on his shoulder, and saw his rude and swollen countenance - go livid. There was deepest tragedy in this sudden weakening of a man of iron. Without a word the friend led him off te his room. ‘Bring Sammy Samuels,” said Forbes huskily. ‘“ He’ll tell me the truth.” A few moments later Captain Samuels of the packet Dreadnaught, a most amiable and cheery fellow, was ushered in. “Hullo, Forbes, old man, last time I saw you was with Jimmy Baynes on the Salthouse Dock.” ‘Tell me the worst,” said Forbes. Captain Samuels, grew grave, ‘‘ The O Gomicbooks (E(0)