Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

SUNDOWN CAFE. salt-stained pieces of newspaper, red, yellow and faded tan: “ Listen to this: It’s some- thin’ Mate Grimpen cut out of the Bombay Mercantile News and he kept it by him till his dying day!” Herzog puzzled out the sentences, read- ing them in great labor, as a small school- boy reads before an impatient teacher: “First mate of the S. S. Lyon held for trial. Undue cruelty practiced by Balin Glamours, first officer of the S. S. Lyon, scheduled to call at this port on the 18th inst.” Herzog looked up; realized that what he had read had no meaning in Cora’s eyes; and he hurried on: ‘“‘ The rest of this here article tells what a skunk this first mate was—which it’s true!” ‘¢ Never heard of him,” Cora put in im- patiently. “You never heard of him? Of all the muttonheaded bats—”’ Cora returned this sally with a long string of disagreeable names, and then stalked off to the saloonward side of the patio. “Wait now! Let me finish!” her hus- band shouted. ‘“ You'll admit you heard of him afore I finish. Here it tells how this mate murdered a Makrani. What a Makrani is you don’t know, but here it tells—a half-caste stoker. Well that ain’t nothin’. He could clear himself of that. But he gets into a fight with a oiler—a A-rab. Comes aboard of him. Is put under hatches. . Now here’s the part I want to’tell you about: Again he unfolded a sea-stained bit of paper and read the article word by word: “Mr. Balin Glamours is of the family of Grimm Glamours, of Carmarthen, Wales. He is the youngest son of Lord Glamours and nephew of the Viscount Ravon. The family extends back to the time of Richard IT. “ Balin Glamours, the skipper of the S. S. Lyon, is quoted as saying, was the black sheep of the family, having run away to London when a small boy and lived among the dis- reputable associations of Limehouse. Later he went tosea. . . . His many years of life before the mast. . . . The Marine Board has fixed the inquiry for next Tuesday, the 2oth.” ‘“ Well, what the Sam Hill—-’’ Cora Her- zog began. - adding her own oaths. 813 ‘‘ Now wait let me read this here Bombay Mercantile News for the twenty-first—the day after the inquiry!” He unfolded an- other bit of newspaper and read: _ “First mate of the S. S. Lyon disappears. Family notified by the Board of Trade. Anx- iety concerning reprisals by Makrani kinsmen of the Bombay water front.” ** And listen to this: If this here don’t give you a clew to what I’m readin’ about I give you up:” “But it is rumored that the standing of the Glamours family brought about the escape of the mate of the S. S. Lyon. Dustoorie distributed among the proper authorities, so the superintendent of the Board has been quoted as saying, has resulted in the escape. An inquiry to follow. There is great excite- ment in trade circles.” Herzog folded up this clipping with an important air. ‘‘ What do you think of that?” “ Think of what?” his wife asked glumly. ** All right then!” Herzog exclaimed in despair. ‘I won’t make you torture your poor old brains no more about dim. I'll clear everything up for you by reading this here clipping. This ain’t about no Mate Glamours, bat about that rotten skunk Mate Grimpen which was knifed in our gambling house right here—I guess you re- member him?” ‘“* Mate Grimpen!” his wife repeated, ‘‘ Grimpen was it? That skinny, crawling, murderous sneak who was buried in potter’s field. Remember him? No one who ever saw those stooping shoulders, those swinging arms—like the arms of a wired-up skeleton—could ever forget him! He came to the end he de- served—the filthy old tom cat! Double- crossed his own skipper; went into a tan- trum like a nervous school girl because a bull-fighter waved a crimson zarape in front of his face! Remember him!” But Herzog interrupted with another laborious attempt at reading. It’s a clippin’ from some slimy Portuguese paper in Pernambuco. And there’s a translation here in pencil between the lines:” “H. Jarvy, master of the S. S. Orinoco, with a cargo of beef from the Argentine—” ‘“‘ That’s the ship—trotten old tramper—” EO DOO (©