Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

244 if they see any one else coming they'll kill my father—who’s their prisoner. Perhaps they’ll torture him first, then kill him, and escape.” “ My crikey!” he exclaimed. “‘ What an extraordinary game those ruffians are trying to play!’ She had left him again, and was pacing the little room, her face writh- ing in despair. ‘Now wait,” he said. “It’s quite simple. Let’s find a way. No reason to go on with that sobbing. Quite sim- ple. They’re keeping the old gentle- man hostage. you say. Sending you ashore to sing for their supper. Jove, how astounding!” He fell into a tense moment of si- lence. There must be some way. “Quite simple,” he said again, then repeated it every so often, even though he had not the slightest idea of what to do. In fact it was far from simple. It looked impossible. “Let’s see now. How do I get on board? ‘That’s the question. Ought to be simple. I have it! You go first, then I follow—no, confound it, they’d keep a guard posted after you went aboard. Silly idea!” - He brooded for what seemed an- other eternity, the girl stopping in the middle of the room and looking up at him with a fierce, anxious intensity. ““Tet’s see,” he went on. “If I went aboard first, and you followed — no, dash it all. Your father would be pounced on. Quite a Chinese puzzle! Simply rotten, I’d say. But let me think.” She sank into a chair, and he took his turn at pacing up and down. “ Should be easy.” He turned to her abruptly. ‘‘ How much time are they giving you to get back?” “As much time as I’d ordinarily sing.” “T see. Well, you mustn’t go back for an hour at least. They would sus- pect. That’s one bright side of the question. We've got lots of time to batch up something.” He went on ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. pacing, stopping periodically to look into her face. He drank in her beauty, standing there in absolute worship, as if pray- ing to an image for inspiration. And she looked up at him with the same adoration—drawing upon his face for light. “One hour!” he said. ‘‘H-m. The answer ought to come. Here, I’m go- ing to have a drink. One hour. And then we go aboard and finish ’em. Let’s see now—” As he went about pouring the drinks he tried desperate- ly—more desperately than he let her think—to find the solution. But as he held the glass to his lips he drew it back with an abrupt gesture, and smacked it on the table. “I have it!” he-cried. “No, don’t get uo! Sit where you are. Listen to what I say. We must take our time. Here—”’ He reached for the glass again. ‘“ We must be cool—cool as cucumbers. Plenty of time, as you say. Now then: What do you think? I shall go aboard as a mutineer—as a long-lost member of the gang. A bit of all right! Don’t you think?” She gasped. ‘‘ What do you mean? You're going on board—’” “And see Swope —as friend—” ‘e igo Sia “Tt “ll be a bit awkward getting aboard, perhaps—but IT’ll announce myself, don’t you see, before they shoot me, and what’s infinitely more important, before they shoot your father. A bit of all right, I'd say.” “You mean you think they'll let you aboard—let you, of all men!” “i,: of all zmen,..am fuse tie one they'll not suspect. Perhaps you for- get that I joined that mutiny of theirs at the start.”’ “Yes, but that was to help us—” an old “They don’t know that. Unless Joshua bunged the word.” “He told me,” the girl said. “ But he wouldn’t have told them. Why should he? We can be sure of that.” COPMIC OOO KS (E@)