Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

568 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ?- This was her first personal introduc- tion to the trick mule-skinner. She saw that he was a white man, and something in his slang and intonation told her that he was not of the Islands. Her pulses bounded with sudden wild hope, as she recognized him. “T’m Rova Hollins, Slum,” she whispered. The memory of the corral at the old Maui came to her swiftly, and the cagy antics of the clownish paniola. Even before she could ask a question her heart told her his pres- ence there meant that Lance was safe. He dropped the “ pistol,” and let it sag in his hand. She saw it was only a stick and smiled quickly at the de- ception. ¢ “ Have you seen your friend La— Hype Smith?” she asked eagerly. He put his finger to his lips saying “ssh,” and tiptoed back toward the bunk. She followed him. There on his side, with his back to her lay her pamola. 3 She could not restrain a sob of re- lief, and she went to her knees beside him. She placed an arm around him, and a hand fell quickly across his heart. Its regular beat reassured her. Swiftly, gently, tenderly, her fingers felt up, around his head. A wet towel lay over the hurt. She stripped it off and examined it under the light, bend- ing low so she could see the welt. She turned to Slum. “ Where’s the water?” she asked. “Here.” He indicated a wash bowl. She took a cambric handkerchief from her waist, dipped it in water, and bathed the wound again. Then she re- placed the towel in defter, neater fashion. Much as Slum resented her intru- sion, much as he disliked her presence, for he attributed this calamity solely to her, still he could not but admit silently to himself, that her woman’s fingers knew better how to minister to a wound than did his cumbersome, gnarled cow-puncher hands. He would yield no place to her in affection for the stricken man lying on the bunk, but he realized it was wise to declare a temporary partnership with her until they. could get out of this predicament. “Has he been asleep like this long?” she asked. A ** Ain’t come to none at all, ma’am.” “How did you get here?” “ Flyin’ Kate kicked me into this mess that you doped out to addle poor cow-punchers.”’ “Me?” Instinctively she resented the tone in the accusation, but there was something comical in the pucker- ings around the squinty little eyes of Slum Ritey that disarmed her. Sud- denly the feeling within her seemed warm and melting and comfortable. For the moment all she knew was that this loutish clown had appeared miraculously. To give expression to the intensity of her relief she threw her arms around Slum and kissed him first on one cheek, and then on the other. “Oh, you darling!’ she ex- claimed. He was terrifically embarrassed and slunk from her, shameful. ‘‘ Ssh,” he admonished. ‘“‘ These niggers’ll hear y and cook us all. Look!” He indi- cated the trussed Kanaka in the corner. “Ah, this one did it, eh? The scoundrel !’’ “Dunno who did it. gin’ ’im down here.” She laid a hand on Slum’s arm. ‘The space was close down there in the steer- age. Slum began to find in his mind excuses for his stricken buddy. What could a poor fellow do when a skirt like that started after him? “Come,” she said, ‘I want you to help me lift Lance.” Fven in the tenseness of the situa- tion, with the menace of the darkness and their unknown dangers all about them, this revelation of Rova’s knowl- edge of the identity of his buddy filled him with fresh suspicion. ‘“‘ What do y mean—Lance?”’ he asked, stepping away from her. He was drag- Eomicbooks:com <3 =