Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

SENOR JINGLE BELLS. ‘ Because the rascal is following us.” ‘Nonsense! He’s simply making out to sea.” “Tack again, and we'll see.” “Very well, then.” She shouted to Peggy to crouch beneath the swing of the boom, then spun her helm, and came about and rocked away on the port tack. The wind freshened. The little craft began to dip her nose through the wave-tops and cast back stinging little vol- leys of spray. “ Look!” cried Swain, ‘ by the Lord, the rascal is coming straight after us!”’ His sister stared aft with a frown. Yon- der, in fact, came the queer stranger, over- hauling them by leaps and bounds. ‘“He’s playing tag with us, that’s all,” . she decided in a peremptory tone which showed that she didn’t like it. ‘ The ras- cal sees that he has the foot of us and he's running around showing off. See him come!” As the stranger filled on the port tack and gathered way, he began to eat up the space between them rapidly enough, to be sure. ‘JT don’t like it!” confessed Swain. “ You're really silly, Henry,” Aunt Eliz- abeth said in reproof. ‘‘Of course this harbor is as safe as my drawing-room floor! And as for pirates—why, vou can see for yourself that there are only two men on that craft!” Now that it was so near, they could make out, in fact, that there was only the man at the helm who seemed a cunning steersman, and a single sailor of gigantic size to work the ropes. “He must be a Hercules, that fellow,” their hostess said, ‘or he could never han- dle that sail single handed. Isn't he a negro, Henry? The sun is in my eves, and I can’t make him out verv clearly.” “Negro?” cried her brother. ‘‘ Negro? Good God, Elizabeth!” ‘““What’s the matter now? Henry, you’ve actually turned hysterical!” ‘““A negro! He is a negro!” ‘And what of that?” ‘“ Elizabeth, I’ve told vou about Little Samuel.” At this she started. And as she looked 9357 back to her brother she gasped: “‘ Do you really think—” ‘Look at Peggy!” She was standing up straight, her face lifted and her eyes ablaze with joy as she looked back to the stranger. “She knows!” said Henry Swain. ‘ You can see it in her face.” ‘How could he come?” “Don't ask me how. Elizabeth, put about and run back for the harbor.” ‘‘ Are you actually afraid?” ‘““T tell you, my dear, that you don’t know that young demon. There is nothing past him! Here’s Peggy coming aft to us to see them better. The devil is in it!” The stranger had now advanced so close that it was easy to make out every line in her and the features of the two men who composed her crew, and there was no doubt remaining. Yonder was the huge bulk of Little Samuel, singing. And what was he singing? A song in praise of E] Cantor! And at the helm was El Cantor himself, laughing, now, and waving his hat to them in a broad circle. ‘““Go about, Elizabeth!” cried Henry Swain. She put her helm over without a word, and, as the boom swung across, the yacht lost headway and hung poised, fighting to gain way once more. At the same time the pursuer luffed and only the original headway wafted the broad-bottomed boat along. Even so, she came swiftly on. Now Little Samuel was at the helm, and El Can- tor stood at the rail. “* Mr. Swain,” he cried, “‘ will you permit me to call at sea, so to speak?” “The devil fly away with him,” said Elizabeth Swain. ‘ He’s a_ handsome youngster. No wonder he turned Peggv’s head. What will you do, Henry?” He put his answer to her into his answer to the outlaw. For, leaping up, he cried: “Young man, bear off from us. Do you hear? And if—” FE] Cantor waved a hand as though to brush the other out of his mental horizon. “ Peggy,” he called, “will you come aboard with us for a spin out to sea and back?” GIOok