Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

208 the cover of the upturned table, intent on reaching Katje’s side. Smithers realized that all hope was not yet lost. With Hard- wick and Katje out of the way he did not doubt that he could handle the natives. A few threats, a few judiciously placed bribes and they would come to heel—no doubt of that. Hadn’t he done the same sort of thing before? ‘“You’re first, and then the girl,” he shouted and fired. Hardwick was spun half way around with the force of the bullet’s impact. He was conscious of a stabbing pain in his left side —of distant, confused sounds—of an inner voice prompting him: ‘ Get him before he gets Katje!” As he fell he forced his tired body—strange how tired he felt—round to face Smithers. He drew his revolver and as he fell, fired. Then all noise, all light, all sense of living, vanished. He was an atom in infinite darkness. Smithers, mouthing horribly, fell too, hands clawing at the floor. He shivered as if with a violent ague, then moved no more, And then Katje rose to her feet, a smok- ing revolver in her hand, and going over to Hardwick knelt down beside him and expertly examined his wound, stanching the flow of blood with a towel taken from a near by chest. “ He'll be all right,” she said with a happy sigh of relief. ‘“ A week in bed— that’s all. But you, CMe Let me see your hand.” “Tm all right—honly a scratch. Blim- me! I’m going to learn ter shoot wiv me left ’and. A bloke’s in a ’ell of a pickle w’en his right’s out of commish. But are yer sure ’e’s orlright?” She nodded. “He’s a bleedin’ fool, ain’t ’e? Alus puttin’ ’is ’ead hinto trouble. I tells ‘im back there,” he indicated the inner room with a jerk of his head, “ that you could take care hof yerself. I guessed that yer ‘ad a plan hall figgered hout. But ’e would ‘ave hit that yer was only a tender female, a fragile slip hof a girl as ’ad ter be per- tected. And ’e nearly spoiled yer plans, didn’t ’e?” She nodded happily, and Ginger Dick ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. wondered at the light which shone in her eyes. “And you ‘ad Smithers covered, didn’t yer? It was you wot shot ’im. I’m hon ter you, my lady. You hain’ arf a smart *un.” | ‘ Yes,” she whispered. never let him know. see, Ginger?” ‘““Yus! I finks I does. lucky devil though?” One of the gray-bearded natives entered. “It’s all over, Inkoosikaas. The black dogs have thrown down their knobkerries. There was no fight in them.” “But you must He saved me—do you Ain’t he the “They had no chance. Were any killed?” “None. Many will have sore ribs and aching heads. That is all. But what of the white men?” “This one—he is soon to be my lord— is wounded, but not badly. In a little while all will be well with him. That one,” she indicated Smithers, “is dead. The bullet entered his heart. Take him away. That one,”’ she pointed to Isaacs, “is sleeping. He will awaken when fear leaves him.” X, SEVERAL days later three men waited out- side of Katje’s house: Isaacs, sitting on a donkey, his legs tied together under the beast’s belly, was one; the others, sickly looking, dirty, unshaven, their hands bound and tied to a belt around Tsaacs’s ee were the two illicit liquor dealers. All three looked extremely miserable sd fearfully eyed the natives who stood guard over them. They were waiting for Ginger Dick who, armed with a full confession signed by Isaacs, was going to take them into the dorp and hand them over to the authorities. The little man was saying good-by to Hardwick, who was able to sit up now. ““ Good-by, Yank.” Ginger Dick held out his hand. ‘“ Yer got me won hover to this sentiment stuff. Hit pays—blimme hif it don’t. By right yer ought ter be dead— or doin’ seven years on the Breakwater. An’ look at ver!” Hardwick laughed. “Larf hon. I’m goin’ ter try it meself. 3A .OO (C@ AMG S (C@