Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

RESURRECTION DAY. real notion of what I was up against, and it scared me. i had sense enough for that. So I hesitated, and while I hesitated I ran into a man I had known slightly, a man who had been in my foster-father’s bome several times. He was an old-timer, pros- pector and wanderer, and my foster-father had prabstaked him often. “ This man—his name was Ryan—had a queer yarn which he confided in me out of some mistaken sense of obligation—because he owed my foster-father 2 good deal of money. A gang of men, using a small schooner, had robbed several of the steam- ers bound south with returning adventurers and treasure. It was pure piracy—the old- fashioned, high seas sort, brought up to date. At one point along the Inside Pas- sage the boats often anchored to wait slack tide, and here the schooner had reaped a harvest in a space of a few days, then sailed off with its loot. | ‘“‘ The schooner and men had disappeared. Nobpdy knew where—except Ryan. He never told me in what disreputable way he got the information. But it seems the schooner had been wrecked im a gale, driven high on the beach, and all hands drowned. ‘“ Ryan’s idea was to find that lost gold.. “A more experienced man would have hesitated. The story was a wild tale—even for those wild days. I swallowed it readily enough. We got what outfit we could and loaded cur whaleboat. We had a general idea where the schooner bad been beached —a very general one! We followed that wild-goose chase three months, cruising, © combing the beaches, tracing every miet and channel of afl this passage. Then Ryan sickened and died—exposure and rotten grub did that. When I laid him in the ground I was scared—scared stiff. In all the world-1°li bet there never was a jonelier, worse scared young cub than I was. Not in all the world—” Dean had forgotten his audience, ab- sorbed in that mamory. Marta’s soft ex- clamation of pity recalled him. He read _ the message in her eyes—read it, and smiled back gratefully. “‘ Thanks— it’s decent of you, feeling that way. “ Yet I kept on lookmg. Maybe at first ~ to tell you—” 32 because I was-so much afraid to go back as i was to keep on. Later, because I was stil crazy about the girl, and bound to have my fortune. “YT found it, just where it is now. I wonder if you can imagine how I felt, Miss Kree, coming on it that way? I can’t try Dean sighed. ‘“ A man’s only young and like that once!” He walked to the window and stared out, his hands clasped behind his back. Marta Kree’s eyes followed him, watching him with a warm sympathy. He began again suddenly, as if anxious to get the story over. “TI found it, all by myself. I did what I set out to do. In the months of trying and starving and fighting for it, 1 had grown into something more nearly fitting my age. It was a great day for me. The stuff was fairly mine. The gang that had looted. it was careful to throw away all pokes and sacks, ali trace of ownership. It was poured into that box, as you saw it just now, mixed inextricably, ail identity lost. No sane man could ever hope to separate it again—re- store it. Oh, that wasa great day for me! “TI went back to Skagway with it, a con- queror returning im triumph—a bridegroom coming to claim his bride—and there I got the news out of an old newspaper the purser of the Humboldt handed.me. The girl had been married six ment There was a long silence then. Finally, Dean laughed, tolerantly, good-humored.: — Marta started, unable to credit her ears. “Oh, I outlived all that bitterness, years back,” he explamed. “ But I never forgot my lesson. I brought that damned stuff back here again and put it away safe—in there. it won’t cost any more lives, or any more unhappiness if I can help it. Living here, thinking about it all through the years, I’ve learned some things I’d never have found anywhere else. I’ve learned the secret of content—and that’s worth all the gold that ever came out of the earth. That stuff in there—it’s dirt, trash, rabbish. I can’t eat it; I can’t make anything of it; I den’t need it nor want it. But it’s mine, Miss Kree. I earned tt, earned the right to do what I please with it. And I please to keep it where it will do no more harm. 1NOO COIN (-) CO