Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

00 aboard without noise. He always was a sneaky devil, but he knew channels and how to get away from government boats. Oh, well.” ‘ How far are we from my home?” the girl again demanded. “I must go back, there is an injured man there—Bob Mac- Gregor.” “He was on the beach so he couldn’t have been hurt much. Limpy was going to pick him off, but I won’t be mixed up in a killing, except in self defense. Don’t tell anybody about me throwing Limpy over- board. I wouldn’t have told even you, except there was so much fright in your eyes I figured it would make you feel better. I’m going to take the gasboat up to the— well, to the place where I hang out. I'll unload it, then take you to town if that’s where you want to go.” “Can you take me to my father now?” she inquired. He shook his head. “ I’m afraid to stay around here. If MacGregor is on the beach other deputies are likely to be around. I hear they try to prove manslaughter on moonshiners now and that means McNeil Island. No, I’ll get rid of my stuff and bring you back late to-morrow night. You needn’t be afraid of me.” “T am not. Dad has mentioned you.” The strange man once more started the motor running at top speed. The girl locked herself in the cabin and changed into dry garments. The bucket of water Mar- key tossed so generously in the process of reviving her had thoroughly drenched her clothing. When she again came on deck the Daisy Jane was moving swiftly through a strait and heading into a cove the girl had never seen before. She glanced behind. It was almost as if the launch had: come through solid rock for the waterway astern was entirely hidden. Unless a small boat fol- lowed the shore line closely the cove never would be discovered. It was a pretty spot, the counterpart of thousands of others along the Alaskan coast line. Shrouded in eternal mystery, inviting exploration, yet rarely visited. The girl experienced a thrill at the beauty of it all, then a nameless dread swept her, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. With Limpy Ford dead she had nothing to fear, yet she knew the silent hills and peaceful cove could keep a terrible secret through eternity. Presently she thought of Bob MacGregor. He was a most comfort- ing individual to occupy a girl’s thoughts. She did not want to get Markey into trouble, for he was treating her with every courtesy, but she rather wished Bob would come along. She knew every incident of his colorful life by heart and much of the success he attributed to ‘fool luck” she knew to be the logical result of careful thinking, and a keen observance of every- thing that came under his eyes when he worked on a case. He knew that men did not stumbie on clews—they dug them up. Bow was a digger. Towards evening they anchored. A falls twenty feet high burst from the wooded ridge above the water. Off to the left she saw a small beach and hidden in the trees except for one corner, a cabin. The place was apparently deserted, yet there was something suggesting that it was frequently occupied. “ Wait till I get the tender in the water,” Markey told her, ‘‘ and you can go ashore, If you don’t mind cooking a meal Ill work while you cook. If you don’t feel like cooking I'll get something to eat first and work afterwards. We'll have to stay here to-night. You can sleep either at the cabin or aboard the boat. I'll take what’s left. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He glanced upwards as he finished speaking. A hanging glacier gleamed, blue and green, in the fading light of day. It was a beau- tiful thing. ‘‘ Nothing to worry about un- less—”’ he paused, then added in a low tone: “ No, that’s bunk, too.” “Put me ashore and I'll clean up the cabin and cook dinner while you get your stuff up from below,” his passenger said as she prepared to leave. It was with a sensation of strangeness that Bob MacGregor set forth alone in the Taku. He might have had another deputy detailed to accompany him, but he enjoyed playing a lone hand game. When two were in on it, a disagreement as to method often resulted. This hampered activities. COMIG DOO! (©