Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

436 thoughtlessly into the ragged pocket of his coat. His fingers touched polished metal. Why had Murdock presented him with the revolver? Crews were crews, not much worse as a lot now than in peace times. Why had Murdock taken that elaborate precaution? There were a number of other questions he would have liked to have answered. He flicked an ash to the linoleum. Was there any connection between the girl he had seen that morning on the bridge of the Bar- racouda—Miss Murdock beyond doubt— and the young woman he had seen at dinner at the St. Francis with the man~he had thought to be Luis Cordella? As he pondered this, a metallic clatter sounded on deck outside. For a moment he imagined that the funnel had toppled over —the sound had the same hollow ring as such a catastrophe might have caused. The room trembled. He started out to investigate, then paused as he heard voices. ‘‘__the paint cans and brushes here. Yes; beside the new funnel.” ‘‘ Ah! we are getting away soon.” They were talking in low tones. Riley, with his eyes aslant, strained his sensitive ears. He caught a fragment of a sentence. “the old madhouse—to hell!” The voices drifted away. Riley pursed his lips in a silent whistle. A new funnel—what did that mean? Obey- ing his original whim, he went out on deck to satisfy his curiosity. He nearly collided with a man in the dark. Furtive hands pawed over him. “ Senor, I crave your pardon,” began a voice. Donn Riley caught him by one arm and drew him under a deck light. His breath went in with a whistling. “ Luis Cordella!”’ The man who had attacked him—who had left a knife sticking into his arm less than an hour previous—cringed against the deck-rail. His face was white, his hand- some black eyes were glittering fearfully, and his lips were working. “ Senor,” he exclaimed in distress, ‘‘ how can I confess my bitterness? Can I hope to apologize? My brain went mad! Madre ARGO$Y AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. de Dios—you should strike me dead!” He was wringing his hands. ‘“'Why in the devil did you do it?” de- manded Riley, in honest astonishment. The Spaniard tapped his forehead with a finger. ‘“ How can such acts be explained?” “You think you’re a‘madman, do you?” ‘‘ Indeed, it seems true, mi amigo! I have those moods—those wretched moods.” Donn Riley gave him a look of full- hearted contempt. ‘“ Then let me give you a warning: The next time you happen into one.of those moods in my vicinity I intend to become violent myself. I cannot trust myself either, Luis Cordella. Unless you have a hankering to be buried at sea, watch your step!” ‘ Nor could I blame your violence, senor.’ ‘“‘ There are some things I do not under. stand, and I’m not by any means satisfied. But as long as you come out with it like a man, and admit that you’re crazy, I’m willing to let you off. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” ‘* Perfectly, senor!” ‘In your right senses now, eh?” “ Assuredly. But why?” “Then answer the question Miss Mur- dock put to you some time before your fit started.” ‘“ But I recall no question, senor,” pro- tested the consul to Pinar del Rio earnestly. “‘ And if it sends you into another of those convenient moods, damn it, I'll just drill you, Luis!” “That question evades me, senor.’ “Tm growing mighty moody, Luis!” “Senor, 1 am totally ignorant.” “Answer that question!”’ ‘* Positively no!”’ “You won’t answer it?” “Yes, yes. You mean—”’ ‘‘ She said you were presumptuous. Why did she say that? Is it possible that you are in love with Miss Murdock? Or that she has—has accepted your attentions?” ‘‘ Senorita Murdock has promised herself to me.” . ‘If she were here I think she’d slap your face properly, Luis.” ““ By the sacred blood of our Savior, I speak the truth, sefor!’’ CoMmiclooo S (C(O) mM