Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

RESURRECTION rough suddenness. He was aware that his feet were tangled ina rug. The oddness of it startled him into forgetfulness of the scene on the Falcon. Alert of a sudden, keen to know the an- swer, he ceased to kick with his feet, and fumbled for a match. The stick flared into light, and he held it high. What he saw about him was confusion. Chairs had been overturned, books strewn. The bowl of flowers that had stood on his table lay broken on the floor, the blossoms scattered. The rug lay in a heap, his Navaho rug, torn from the wall. The door it had hidden was closed, he saw that quickly. Then by the flare he discovered another thing, a dark sprinkling on the floor and tapestry. There was a pool of it about his feet, and even before he bent to lower to make sure, he guessed what it was. - With other matches he continued the search, breathing hard. The blood was scattered wide. A trail of it led along the floor, out of the cabin door. He followed along the beach sand and with- in fifteen feet of his home the came upon its source, the carcass of his dog Fang. Fang was dead, ripped open as if by knife stabs. Fang was dead, the cabin in a chaotic upheaval. There had been a struggle, that was plain. Of the object of that struggle there was no shadow- of uncertainty. -Somebody had discovered his secret. Somebody had come to loot his treasure. CHAPTER VIII. SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR. EAN went back into the cabin. Even in the midst of shock he found time to give a grateful tribute to Fang. The dog had laid down its life for him, pro- tecting his secret, and the fight must ‘have been a hard one. He realized that another sorrow had: been added to his bur- den. Never would he forget this silent chum who had shared his loneliness. He went directly to the hidden door, DAY. 47 snatched it open, and peered within by the light of a match. His gold was there, un- disturbed. _ He got his lantern and went back to the queer chamber he had excavated from the buried hull. With the door closed to con- ceal the light, he sat down and began to plan. The gold was safe for the present. No satisfaction in that- Whoever wanted it so badly would come again, with reinforce- ments. It puzzled him to find the treasure undisturbed. He could only explain it on the theory that Fang’s slayer was a scout and had come alone. The dog had at- tacked him, possibly injured him so severely he was driven off. It would be almost im- possible, anyway, for one man to move so heavy a package as this box of dust and nuggets. He had little difficulty guessing who it was had fought there in the cabin against his dog. Blye, the sailing-master, had been absent from dinner. He remembered Bur- chard making some excuse for him. Nor ‘had he seen Blye at all while on the Fal- con. Blye was an active, powerful brute. From the first he set him down as a bad ‘man to deal with. Probably Blye did Bur- chard’s dirty work. Of course, Burchard was behind it. There was no surprise about that. But what did hurt was the thought of Marta Kree doing the bidding of these dangerous gentle- men. That hurt, and it hurt hard—a pain close to maddening him. | She had played their game! Who but Marta could have told Burchard of the treasure? Marta herself had begged him to come aboard the Falcon for dinner— while Blye and Burchard arranged to trans- fer his gold, of course! - Marta deliberately had played to hold his attention while they were alone there in the saloon. For that matter it was not improbable that the entire program had been carefully planned, beginning with Marta’s first ap- pearance in the cabin. A clever crook like Burchard would think of that. These thoughts made him physically ill. They brought out a cold sweat on his hands EO 1NOO CO