Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

ge BUCCANEER BLOOD. Tim Holloway watched this unspeakable humiliation of his heroic master. “You lay 2 hand on him, you swob- head,” he yelled to Wing, ‘‘ and I'll tear out your liver with me bare hands!” “So ho!” McCorkle bellowed in laugh- ter—“‘ the little cabin-boy agin, ay? Stands up for his skipper! Damned fine! If you’re that sort, me little squawlin’ terrier, I'll make you Captain McCorkle’s cabin-boy!” What a sacrilege! Tim shook his whit- ened fist. “ Think I’m goin’ to be your cabin-boy, you blowsy scruffer?” he cried. “You ain’t no captain—lest it’s for some _ tidewater flat boat! There’s my captain— and it’s from him Tim Holloway will take orders—not for no blunt-bowed saggin’ bargeman the likes of you!” McCorkle’s humor was slightly irritated. “Very well then—if you’re his cabin-boy you can join him. Wing, make this little yapdoodle fast again that other stanchion. One on each side of that there compan- ionway. Wing obeyed, taking the kicking, claw- ing Tim by the scruff of the neck and ty- ing him on the corresponding post on the opposite side of the grand stairway. McCorkle looked around. There was Still one other person who had not been properly disposed of—the old chatelaine. ‘* Madame,” he said with mock gracious- ness. “ Bein’ you're a perfect lady—and well on in years—I don’t want to shock you with the sight of what’s goin’ to hap- pen. Suppose you stow yourself in that there closet till the storm’s blow’d over.” “In there, monsieur!” the grandam ex- claimed. She saw Jacqueline pale with anger at this indignity, and she saw Wing and Dorset approach to force her in if she disobeyed. ‘Who are you, monsieur, to give me this order?” she asked in a blaze of wrath. “ He’s a blitherin’ pot-bellied sea cook!” Tim Holloway cried from his post. “Stow that gaff!’ McCorkle roared. “ Bind that kid athwart his mouth with his bandanna! He’s gettin’ me crazy!” Parsons carried out this order, removing the crowning pirate touch of Tim’s figure— the bandanna swathed about his skull—and wrapping it across his mouth. 269 “'There—that’s better!’? McCorkle said with considerable relief. ‘‘ He don’t look so brave now—but he sounds better!”” He turned to the chatelaine: “‘ You still layin’ to? Thought I told you to git!” “T will go, monsieur,” the old woman said proudly—fearing the humiliation of being handled by Wing and Dorset. ‘“ But do not forget, monsieur, for whatever you do in this house, you will have to account to them!” She pointed to the hovering and watchful ancestors, and then passing the door which Wing opened for her, she sub- mitted to her imprisonment. McCorkle was now in a position to enjoy himself. The old chatelaine and her serv- ant were safely stowed away in a closet; Cameron was bound to a post on one side of the grand staircase, with the gagged little urchin on the other. The only inmate of the household now who was neither bound nor imprisoned was the girl. The first desire in McCorkle’s mind was to impress this girl with his bravado and deviltry, what better way to do this than to give her the supreme thrill of seeing Cameron shot down? McCorkle wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “You see that gentleman over there?” he asked pleasantly. ‘Look at him sharp because you'll see somethin’! It'll be a show worth seeing—this derelict ship set- tlin’, Always a great sight to see the last minutes of a wreck. And in particular if this young skipper is your—’’ McCorkle’s eyes narrowed— “ Tell me this first: is he your man?” It was of course a time to lie. Cameron knew it. The girl herself knew it. She must not turn McCorkle’s drunken jealousy upon Cameron, when but a moment before it had blazed so hysterically upon the octo- roon, Parson. “ How can that be, monsieur?”’ she asked blandly. “Then what is he to you?” “To me? How can he be anything to Jacqueline, monsieur?”’ “Then what the devil is he doing in this house? I thought they was only three peo- ple in this house. How come he breezes in with all sails set and tries to stick me 393 up? comlicbooks.com