Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

| 630 he wondered if anyone on earth were half so happy as he. His happiness was gath- ered up in two names, Mary and Valkyrie. For Richard, these two names had blended into one, for now each seemed to be com- plementary to the other. It was the custom of Nathanael Gert- ridge, Sr., and his son Nat, to hold a daily inspection of their ships, while in port. They used to arrive at the docks punctually at nine-thirty each morning. By that time the decks of all the clippers had been washed down, the ropes Flemish coiled, the brass polished, and everything in order for inspection. Everything had to be in perfect order, for old Gertridge had the eye of a hawk, and nothing escaped him. Besides looking to smartness of ships, the Gertridges also had an eye for liquor, as both father and son. were solid temperance advocates. There was a standing order at the Far East docks, that there should be no wines, or spiritous liquors aboard any of the Gertridge ships in port, at peril of in- stant dismissal. Heretofore this order had not been strict- ly followed. But on this especial morning, with consternation, Dunbar was informed that it was the purpose of the Gertridges ta search the cabins, to see if their order had been adhered to. “Will you give me the key of your quarters,’”’ demanded Nat peremptorily. Without a word, Dunbar handed over his key. Five minutes later, Nat emerged from the first officer’s cabin with two bottles of Jamaica rum. The Gertridges held a whispered confer- ence for several moments, in which Nathanael, Sr., at first appeared to object. But finally, the younger man carried his point. With an exultant light he came over to Richard Dunbar. ‘“‘ These are yours, are they not?” ** Yes, sir.” ** Have you got anything to say?” A moment of aching silence followed. ‘““Come, come, have you anything to say?’’ pursued the relentless Nat. “No, sir.” “Very well, your services as first officer ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, of the Valkyrie are dispensed with. You ‘may report immediately at our offices for your discharge.” CHAPTER XIII. DIRECTORS’ FAREWELL. ARY WILLISTON arrived at the M China docks, in company with her Uncle Donald. She was looking lovelier than ever on this bright January afternoon. . , Captain Forbes came to meet them at the dock gates. It was a merry party that walked together toward the pier-head. Gaz- ing through the forest-like perspective of shipping, Forbes pointed out the soaring spars of the Valkyrie. “There she is,” he exclaimed. ‘‘ She’s just like you, Miss Mary, because there’s . nothing else that can compare with her.” . 1) “Now, look here, captain,” replied the girl, with an affected disdain, “ I don’t mind what you say about Valkyrie. But don’t get extravagant about me, or I'll begin to think that you aren’t really old Bully Forbes, after all.” “Why, that would be lovely, my dear.” “What would be lovely?” ‘For you to think I was not old Forbes.” “What then would you like me to think you?” “TI would like you to think me one of your own charmed set, instead of a gray- whiskered old shell-back, who when he sees you, laments because he was born a gener- ation too soon.” “ T don’t understand.” “Ah, my dear, you can’t. It’s just the rebellion in some of us old codgers, who hate to admit the corroding touch of time, who would sooner be in your sweetheart’s set than in your father’s set.” “Well, perhaps, even yet, you may be in that set,” said Mary, with a whispered tone. ‘ But don’t you dare to breath the secret.” “T’ll keep the secret,” answered Forbes. He expected further confidings, but Mary merely tripped along, gazing toward Valkyrie with expectant light. She was beginning to be vexed. Where was Richard? Why didn’t he come to meet (S@) CORMicoooks