Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

nothing at first. Then he saw, or fancied he saw, a thin sliver of light, appearing for a moment and vanishing again. It was a fairy gleam, a will-o’-the-wisp, so faint and evanescent as to make one doubt he had seen it. But doubt became certitude a moment later when it appeared and van- ished again. “You saw it, too?” the captain asked in a hushed voice. “A wisp of light?” Puddlewhit asked. “Like a flash of starlight on a paddle blade?” “Ves,” the skipper assented huskily. “The gnats are gathering, mynieer, I am afraid they carry a Sting.” Puddlewhit became apprised, through a sixth sense, of a third presence on the bridge. He had seen or heard nothing, the approach had been so stealthy. He turned and saw a slim figure garbed in sarong and kabaya. It was Teema. The young man’s eyes glowed brilliantly as the stars above. ‘J had forgotten,” Puddlewhit exclaimed with relief. ‘‘ Teema is with us, and these are his people.” At the mention of his name, Teema glid- ed forward. “They come!” he uttered in a low, sibil- ant whisper. His keen eyes, jungle bred, scanned the murk enshrouded shore line, picking up details wholly invisible to the others. “You must tell them to keep away, Teema,” Puddlewhit directed quietly. Teema’s eyes glittered and he pulled back half a step. “‘ They come for their king,” he declared sternly. ‘‘I shall go to them.” The skipper gave voice to an inarticu- late exclamation, like the angry growl of a bear. The next moment he held an ugly automatic pointed at Teema’s breast. “Well hold you as a hostage,” he snarled. ‘ Tell them to keep away, or—” The pistol completed the threat. “ Teema will listen to me, mynheer kapt- tein,’ Puddlewhit interrupted calmly. “ We do not need—no, Teema!” he cried sharply. The warning came too late. Teema had leaped, lithely as a panther. The skipper, accustomed to dealing with coolies and the dregs of the native water fronts, had under- estimated his man. There was a shot that ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. © went skyward, a woman’s scream below, and the crash of two bodies on the bridge. The skipper was a powerful brute, short, stocky, and sound as oak, his muscles tough-— ened by the hard training of the sea. But Teema, though more slenderly built, was tempered steel. He fought with the skill and cunning of a leopard, and the cold ferocity of its Bengal cousin, the tiger. Be- fore Puddlewhit could intervene the cap- tain’s gun shot out of the struggling mass, executed a parabola and plunged deep into the shadowy cushion of a huge roller. At the same moment the mass integrated itself into its two components, Teema bounding back to his feet with the elasticity of a rubber ball. The skipper’s eyes were bloodshot. “* Mutiny!” he bellowed, making for Teema, but Puddlewhit stepped in between. “ Mynheer kapitein,’ he reminded him sternly, “‘ what were your instructions from his excellency regarding this passenger?” The captain came to his senses. “This man must be confined to his room,” he declared thickly, breathing heav- ily. “ The safety of the ship demands it.” “No, mynheer kapitein,’ Puddlewhit contradicted in a low voice, pointing to the shadowy outlines gathering on the edge of the blanket of murk, “the safety of the ship demands that we reach an understand- ing.” He turned to Teema, watching them sharply, catwise. ‘“‘ Teema,” he inquired steadily, “a moment ago you said you were going to your people. What does that mean?” “Thou shalt come with me, my benefac- tor,” Teema returned placidly. “ Thou and all these people.” “What if we prefer to remain here?” Teema bared his teeth in an engaging erin. “You must accept our hospitality, my - benefactor,” he returned. The captain growled thickly, and Teema threw him a watchful glance. “Then your promise means nothing now that the tables appear turned,” Puddlewhit declared sternly. “Thou art my friend, dost thou fear to go with me?” Teema countered. COPMEOOOKSsEO