Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

THE ROARING FORTIES, the expression on his face of one returning to his heart’s desire. But Richard was not wrapped up in the new clipper alone, as might have been ob- served by the wistful manner in which he used to run the scarlet burgee up to the main truck each morning. In his cabin bunk, he would go over the mysterious meeting he had had with Mary Williston. There was something in her eye that, once seen, he could not forget, some- thing that he yearned with all his heart to see again. Each morning Richard rose to his accus- tomed round with the hope that that day might bring Mary Williston. In doubting moments he would tell him- self that it was a false hope, that he would never meet her again. Then, sick at such a thought, he would go forth and gaze at her flag flying over all the Far East yachts. ‘Yes, I believe she will have to come again to see Valkyrie.” In the night watches below, when Rich- ard could not sleep for dreaming of Mary, he would come on deck and live over again that divine, mysterious night upon the beach at Newburyport. The coming and the going of this one girl had been like a peep into a realm enchanted. Having snatched this most alluring glimpse his heart continued to cry out for its return. Once, in his feverish longing, he almost decided to go back to Newburyport again. But then his sober second thought restrained him. “No,” he told himself, “it would never do for me to go to her, with so little rea- son. No, I must wait until she comes to Valkyrie.” Every morning Nat Gertridge, Jr., visited the docks, but he was always studiously aloof in his attitude toward Dunbar. The sight of this complacent, bustling office man was the one dark cloud on Richard’s sky. There was something so cocksure, so self- contained, about this young director. “What éan I do against the likes of that?” Richard would ponder at sight of the regal state of the young shipowner. Then from the depths he would look up and catch a glimpse of Mary’s flag, and with that flashing glimpse came reassurance, 679 A week before Valkyrie was due to sail, the postman delivered to the first officer a letter, addressed in a round, girlish hand. Richard did not trust himself to open it on deck. The morning inspection was on at the time the post was delivered, and Nat Gertridge, Jr., was quick to detect the ob- vious palpitation as Richard Dunbar placed that letter in his breast pocket. That morning, for the first time, Ger- tridge condescended to speak. “T believe that you and I are both friends of Miss Mary Williston?” “JT am merely an acquaintance. I doubt if the young lady would call me a friend.” “Where did you meet her, might I in- quire?” Richard’s answer was a look of darken- ing resentment. ‘So you don’t choose to tell me,” pur- sued Gertridge, suavely. iz? No:” “Well, I might remind you, that you can ill afford to flaunt me.” “Tl tell you to mind your own busi- ness,” was the sharp rejoiner. Dunbar for a few moments was incensed at this unwarranted intervention. But the letter in his breast pocket soon drove all other thoughts clean from his mind. As soon as the inspection was over, he rushed to his cabin, locked the door, and read breathlessly: My pear Mr. DuNBAR: IT shall be down to visit the Valkyrie to- morrow afternoon with my uncle, Mr. Don- ald MacKay. I want to see our new clipper again. And—I hope you won’t think me too bold—I also want to see you. Ever, Mary WILLISTON. All the rest of the day Richard moved around in a seventh heaven. Time and again he retired to his cabin, to re-read Mary’s letter, and to gaze upon her hand- writing. He never knew before that such attraction could dwell in a girlish hand. That night he dreamed with Mary’s let- ter underneath his pillow. What matter new what Nat Gertridge might have in his favor, since Mary had written; “I want to see you.” On the fateful morn, as Richard dressed, EComichbooks (S@)