Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

“IT WAS WAR.” about four miles off shore then; the gun- boat quite close in. But one could have figured the race from the start. The patrol had twice the speed of the tender. That the three men in the tender made any run at all could but be accounted for by deliberate intention to be taken dead rather than alive. From the very bottom of my heart I wished that Rudy had been satisfied to fight on for his own country. The tender was not much more than half-way to us when the forward two-inch guns of the patrol boat opened fire. That did not deter the men in the tender at all. They kept on with their flight. We could see their silhouettes now, out- lined in the broken reflections of the big lamp behind them. Two crouched low and close to the little engine; the third, forward, crouched over the wheel. I hated to try to imagine what their grim faces must look like. The biggest of the patrol-boat’s guns spoke again. A splinter shot upward from the stern of the tender and the three crouched lower. At the third round a plank was shivered for half its length. But now the race was too nearly over for further flight. The desperate men in the tender, without diminishing speed, faced behind them and, guns to shoulders, began to pump bullets at the glaring lamp. It was a clever stroke. The light van- ished at the first feeble volley from the three guns. Though the white of the boat might be near enough for a target, the men themselves could no longer be seen by the pursuer. Of boats or men we could see nothing at all. All the while our course had been almost athwart that of the oncoming craft. Now we had crossed their line and the captain’s telegraph had buzzed the signal below for three-quarters speed ahead. For we must not get in range of the patrol’s two-inchers. Of all three boats, we must be the most visible, for we must make it possible for Rudy and his two companions to see us 479 so long as there was a chance of their reaching us. A few moments more of waiting ensued. Then the guns of the patrol vessel spoke sharply. The flashes seemed turned a trifle to ore side. In this last darkness the girl had got up and gone silently to the rail. We glimpsed a pale light, apparently showing through the open door of the deck-house, and indicating that the pa- trol-boat had turned sharp in her course. While I was trying again to focus my eyes on the spot, the end came. It was one more flare of horrible flame, one more detonation that tortured the ears. And-in that flare both boats were plainly visible, their bows almost together and raised high into the air, their frames and sides seeming to collapse in shapeless masses. There were great, ugly howls of men in pain unspeakable—then silence. I steadied the girl back into the seat, once more wrapped her in the big rug, then sat beside her. I laid my hand com- fortingly upon the cold little one on her chair’s arm. But this time she seemed conscious of the gesture, and drew her hand away and for a while sat staring at it uneasily. The captain touched my shoulder. “Mr. Hartmann wants to speak to you,” he announced almost gruffly. He took my chair as I headed for the bridge. “Well, what is it?” I asked dully. “It’s just this, Harry. I want you to let that poor girl alone—not to bother her with any more of your damned nice attentions—to keep out of her way, at all events, while she’s aboard my yacht.” I was almost too astonished for words. When they came, my astonishment had turned mostly to anger. “T don’t know what you mean,’ I snapped. ‘I’m not aware of annoying any one with unwanted attentions. I could imagine something of what a blow —that—out there—was to her. I wanted to do anything I could for her.” “And what in the devil do you think comicloool C©