Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

‘ye. save you—” he burst out again in an up- roarious jeer—‘‘ and make a two-gun man out’n ye!” McCorkle looked around the room— again the undisputed master of the scene. The interlude had slightly delayed him in his work of burglarizing the old chateau— but what of that? Until now the game had been utterly lacking in adventure and ex- citement, except, it might be added, for those brain-heating swigs of the chatelaine’s liquor. Now excitement had come in earnest. Contrary to his first intent, Mc- Corkle concluded that he would have to do some killing; and the thought, together with the intoxication of the wine, gladdened him. They all waited in an expectant and om- inous silence for his command. He looked about at the attentive anxious faces. Dor- _ set had made bold to come from out the protection of that arras. _chatelaine. He stood with feverish and frightened eyes—his mouth pursed in the pride of his recent felicitous stroke: that shot of his had solved all of his master’s problems. “ A good trick,~Dorset!” the chief com- mented—as his eye fell upon the ragged figure and the ghastly grinning face. “ But if you hadn’t been so crazy scairt from the first, you wouldn’t have missed your man. Come here. Let’s see your hand.” Hesitant and shy, the cockney engineer presented himself before his skipper, * Hold out your hand.” Dorset held it out as if expecting the extraordinary honor of shaking with the great McCorkle. ‘“ Just as I thought!” McCorkle sneered. “ Shakin’ like a flyin’ jib! Faugh! All right. You watch the women and children. ‘That’s all youre good for when you ain’t stowed away in the lugger, greasin’ up the mule.” He pointed over his shoulder at the “ Git that old flat-footed dame there to set down. She’s makin’ me crazy. And lock the ole black up in that thar closet. He can’t do no harm, but the room’s gettin’ hot. If he stays on deck any more we'll all dither off in a faint for want of air!” Dorset obeyed, herding the negro into the china closet. The door was slammed upon him. The old chatelaine sat down, and Dorset took his position as their guard. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “ Now then!” McCorkle turned his at-~ tention to the most important matter at hand—to the only source of actual physical danger—that man who had attempted the humanly impossible feat of holding up an armed gang. } Cameron sat on the stair landing with a slight stream of red clotting his forehead. Pale, and yet fully possessed of his strength and senses, he presented a defiant and savy- age picture. Parson, the octoroon, stood, crouching anxiously over him with a gun muzzle not two feet away from his chest. “Leave me-put this lubber out of the way, Chief,” Parson counseled. ‘“ He ain’t a pleasant lookin’ customer. First thing you know we'll have another fight on our hands—which we ain’t got time!” * Do ’em all in—that’s my advice!” little Dorset cried. ‘‘ Here yer’ve got me wiv three of these balmies on me hands. Cos why? Blime me if I know. Shoot’ em orl dahn—every one. No, I ain’t afraid of this ole gel here—nor of the black, nor of the little codger. But any one of ’em will pop the daisy on us if we let ’em live. Kill ’em all. Dead men tell no tyles!” McCorkle, already in his cups, settled back in the cathedral chair while his three ministers of state discussed this matter. Ac- cording to his inveterate custom he held his peace whenever there was any discussion. Whenever his men proposed, he would dis- pose. He looked to the ancient and the worldly- wise seaman, Wing, who as yet had offered no advice. Inasmuch as Wing’s main concern was the immediate acquisition of treasure, he was not so much obsessed with the fear of State’s prison. If they massacred every one- in the house, there was the possibility that no one would ever know where the bulk of the Lafitte and Raiglon treasure was hid- den. “* Keep ’em alive,” he said curtly. ‘ Tor- ture ’em till they tell us where every cop- per’s hid. Give me my share and I’m through!” “Through is it—wiv his bloody ’ands washed! Yuss! Just as I thought!” Dor- set cried. ‘I stays here tied fo the apron COMMUC MOOK Sa (GOL