Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

238 tiently. “ But what’s the odds. We've got it—ain’t we?” “Yes, but it ain’t enough,” Swope said. : The negro and Brass swore in sur- prise. “B’ George, Mistah Swope, we'll be ridin’ in carriages the rest of our days. Let’s us get going’ f’um here and do some jubilatin’.” “Finish this old duffer first, Swope, I’m warnin’ you,” Brass said. ‘‘ Then we can get to our boat and make for the wilderness.” “Finish him?’ Swope repeated. “Why do that? It was him that got us this, wasn’t it?” They stared. Why did Swope say it was the skipper—when obviously he had known nothing about the gold. “The girl wouldn’t of parted with it, except to save her father,” Swope said. “ You men saw that. Well, why kill him. She couldn’t save him if he was dead. Keep him alive. He’s the goose that laid the golden eggs. Kill the goose? Oh, no! Not if I know anything.” “What more truckin’ have we with him, I’d like to know?” Brass asked. * Kill him, and play safe.” The negro scratched his black wool. “You mean you think she’s got more, Mistah Swope?” “Sure she’s got more. Plenty of it. This ain’t the end. She’s got all she wants. That town ashore there has gone mad over her. Don’t this prove it? She can get more.” Brass let out an oath. His master was plumb daft. No doubt about it. At any moment the apprehensive coop- erer was expecting a posse of those bearded Argonauts to put off from shore and close in about them. But the real fact of the matter was Brass did not realize the nature of the country he was in. Swope, on the other hand understood very well. There was no law and order. The desertion of crews from their vessels was a common thing. San Francisco was not going to be put into a turmoil ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. because some whaler from Bering Straits had come into the bay and was having a set-to with his crew. Time to those Argonauts, as the say- ing went in those days, was worth “fifty dollars a minute.” ‘They were not going to mix into any forecastle brawl out there on the bay. That was one angle of the situation. The other was this: Swope knew that Priscilla would do anything to save her father. She had already shown that. Her father—as Swope had said—must be kept alive, so that she could save him again. ““Here’s my plan, men,” he said. “We keep Bartlett on board. You don’t object, skipper? We'll treat you like the pious New England gentleman you are. But your daughter goes ashore again—” “And leave him—” the girl cried. * No, before God I—” “ Wait until you hear my offer, miss; wait just one minute, and I'll have it all out. You go ashore and sing. You won't have to sing more’n one night. It’s your last night. Tell ’em that. “And [Il wager they'll match this whole pile with their gifts. It’s early yet. You'll have an hour or two before midnight, and it’s then they’re drunk- est. You go ashore—” “And leave my father in your hands—” * No harm will come to him, I prom- ise you that. No harm, that is to say. unless you yourself bring it. And I'll tell you how you can bring about that end: Just breathe a word about what’s goin’ on aboard this ship, and you'll never hear of your dear old dad again. See? Simple!’ “You mean Ah’ll git twice as much as I’d git otherwise, Mistah Swope?” the cook asked, his eyes bulging. “Tt’s suicide!” Brass cried. “ You mean we ain't even sendin’ any one ashore to watch her?” “What good would that do?” Swope asked. ‘“ How could we keep her from tellin’? Besides she could get (e(0) DOOKS AAI (COIL