SOUTHERN OREGON MINER
Page 6
Friday, Feb. 28, 1941
Creamer and Sugar
Motif forPanholdcrs
CHAPTER Will—Continued.
—IS—
They stood together, the gun on
the desk between them, its muzzle
toward the bolted door of the main
cabin. Mary was in the recess be
tween the desk and the rack of
muskets, George at the end of the
desk nearest the companion.
If Mat Forbes were «live, he did
not even groan. If someone watched
the cabin companion, his feet did not
shuffle on the deck. If Peter waa
preparing to break in the cabin door,
his preparations moved without a
sound. The very silence had terror
in it
George had the bomb gun under
his right hand,
He held the re
volver in his left hand. His eyes
were on the companionway down
which at any moment an attack
might come, He looked now and
then at the skylight; but the men on
deck took care not to show them
selves there, and minutes passed,
•nd nothing happened, and he said
at last appraising their situation:
“Peter won’t want to fight us un
less be has to. And maybe he told
the truth about Richard."
“No, no.”
"If he did, if they don't find Rich
ard, they'll have to come back
aboard and surrender. They can’t
get away from here without the
ship. Peter could slip the anchor
•nd get some sail on her and make
out to sea and come back with a
gunboat or something. So if they
don’t find Richard, Peter needn’t
worry."
"They will find him.”
“I'm afraid Peter killed Richard,
Mary.”
There was ice in her breast "No,
George,” she whispered helplessly.
Time somehow dragged itself
away.
When Richard went ashore the
day before, it was at Peter's sug
gestion. "Do you good to stretch
your legs,” the younger man urged.
"You're going ship-crazy, Dick, the
way you've acted since we passed
the Rocks. What got into you? Ma
ry?" He watched Richard shrewd-
■ ly; but Richard without answering
looked down at the boats preparing
to leave the ship's side. “I'm go
ing to try for some geese," Pe
ter said. "Come along. Better bring
a club. The pigs might jump us.
They're ugly sometimes."
A walk ashore offered some out
let for his bottled energy, so Richard
took that iron-bound club made out
of a harpoon shaft, and went with
Peter. While the men were hauling
the floating casks ashore, he and
Peter approached the little pond;
but the geese were somehow
alarmed, and they rose and flew up
the slope and settled again far up
the ridge. Peter called Gee, and the
three men started that way.
The tussock grass, at first short
and scattering, then taller and thick
er. high above their heads, received
them. Richard plunged through it
headlong, welcoming its tough re
sistance. forcing himself into it,
wrestling his way with his shoulders
and his head bowed. His broken
arm, secured to his side, made him
awkward at the business.
He
dragged the heavy club behind him,
bending his head, charging through
the tough stuff with its interlacing
luxuriance like a bull.
That which happened came with
DO warning.
Richard, breaking
CHAPTER XIX
“If Richard is dead, then the ship
Is Peter’s, and everything in her.
and he'll be rich. Remember he
was always thinking about how
much money the ship and her cargo
was worth, and the ambergris." He
added soberly: "And—he may have
known he was not Cap’n Corr's own
son.”
"How could he know?”
"His mother might have told him,
when he was a boy. If he knew that,
he could guess that Cap’n Corr had
left everything to R.chard.”
“Peter worked on me from the
time we left the island to make me
hate Richard. I suppose be saw I
was naturally jealous. He kept re
minding me—how you used to feel
•bout Richard; and when he thought
he had brought me to the pitch, he
gave me that letter. At least he put
it in the pocket of Richard’s coat
•nd made me wear the coat and
hoped I would find it there.” He
asked: “I wonder why Peter kept
that letter so long?”
“Peter has always—wanted me.
himself, George. He made love to
me aboard here. Kissed me. Once
Tommy Hanline saw him. Once I
had to run and lock myself in.
George, he even came to my cabin
yesterday.”
George said humbly: “I haven’t
been much protection for you, Ma
ry.” Mary touched his hand on the
bomb gun, and his eyes met hers.
He said slowly: “You’ve given me
so much. I should have given you
more.”
Her eyes burned with tears. "I’m
going to take such care of you, make
you so happy.”
“Yes.” He smiled at his own
thought. “After we get out of this
mess. We will”
Her hand tightened on his, smil
ing with him. They had never been
so close as in this hour. After a
moment he asked:
"How many men are there
aboard? Do you know?”
“Just Peter and Rannels and Gee
and Willie Leeper. And Mat, of
course, if he’s not dead.”
"Four of them?” He chuckled.
"Well, any one of them could pick
me up and throw me overboard.
Even old Willie. But I’ve a gun-
two guns—and they haven’t”
She said wonderingly: “I think
you’re—enjoying this!” She sn iled.
“Rejoicing like a strong man to run
• race. Isn’t that in the Bible?”
"I'm not running a race, Mary.”
He smiled. “Maybe I would if I
could, but there’s nowhere to run
to.”
“I wish we could know if they do
find Richard.”
George faced the companionway.
He was not tired, not weak. The
emergency had stiffened him; he
meant to meet it if he could. But
deep in his thoughts, George felt
suddenly Mary’s eyes upon him. His
eyes met hers; and after a mo
ment, gravely, not smiling, she
came toward him. She came to him
and kissed him. Then, while they
both smiled, without words, they
kissed again.
She returned to her post. Time
passed. Mary kept her vigil at the
window. George could see her lean
ing across the bunk, resting her
hands against the vessel’s sides, her
face close to the small square pane.
George nodded, understanding, ac
cepting the fact to which he could
not be blind. But she and Richard,
even if Richard were alive, would
never speak to one another of their
love; and they would take care
that he should never guess. He knew
this; and he vowed that so long as
he lived, they must not know he
knew the truth. Let them do their
brave parts and think him blind.
He realized suddenly that he waa
•creaming like a maniac.
blindly through the grass, lunging
and fighting through the mesh of it
like a fish caught in a net, stepped
into nothingness. He fell, turning
over sickeningly in the air. He fell
on his right side, shoulder and hip
striking together, in shallow water
and muck. The breath was knocked
out of him, and he was stunned
and shaken and for a little could
not move. Then he rolled painfully
on his back and felt something hard
under his head and laid his band
on the shaft of the club he had
carried. He got to his knees and
stood up, gasping for breath; and
his feet sank deeper in water and
soft mire.
He looked up and saw the sky
through a round hole five or six
feet across, edged with grass, the
long stuff broken by his fall hang
ing down into the hole. The hole
was a full thirty feet above his head.
He called Peter’s name, shouting
it as loudly as he could with what
breath his jolted lungs could catch;
he shouted again and again, till he
saw something move at the edge of
the hole above him, saw Peter’s
head projected against the sky,
heard Peter cry:
“Dick! Are you down there?”
“Yes.”
After a moment Peter asked:
“How deep is it?”
“Thirty feet, anyway.
Maybe
more.”
"Can you climb out?”
Richard looked around, peering in
the half-darkness of the pit; he
walked two or three steps to /ne
side, investigating. He tried for
hand-holds, managed to climb a lit
tle; but he saw then, as his eyes be
came a little adjusted to the dark
ness here, that above his head the
sides sloped inward toward the open
ing at the top.
He slid to the bottom again in a
cloud of sooty dust. “No," he said.
“It’s shaped like the inside of a jug.
The sides slant in to the top. You’ll
have to get a line, bring some men
to haul me out.”
“Sure.”
“Be careful where you step,”
Richard warned him. “And make
the men be careful when they come.
Probably there are a lot of holes
and pits around in the grass.”
Peter repeated: “Sure." He said
in sudden question “Hurt, are you?”
“No.”
“I can see you now. You can't
climb out, that's certain.”
“No. Go ahead.”
“I'll bring a line. You take it
easy. I'll get the line we towed ,
|
the casks ashore with ”
"That's not heavy enough. Bring
: some whale line from the ship.”
Peter agreed. "Yes. I'd better.
I'll be quite a while. Dick; but 1'11
make it quick as I can. Take it
easy.”
His head disappeared. Richard
stayed where he was, looking up at
that small opening so far above him,
wishing Peter were still there. He
could hear the grass rustling in the
wind; but the sound was faint He
was wet, and he was cold. The shal
low pool of water into which he had
fallen was directly under the open
ing. in the deepest part of the pit.
He sat down at one side of it, pluck
ing at the powdery gray-black ash
with his hand, rubbing it between
his fingers. It broke into ■ light
dust that rose into his face and
made him sneeze; but it stuck to
his wet hands in a slimy smear.
He shivered with a sudden chill,
and wished Peter would hurry. This
place had an unpleasant odor,
vaguely alarming. Twenty minutes
for Peter to reach the shore, ten
minutes to the ship, ten minutes
back to the shore again; say an
hour in all before help would come.
Richard did not like his plight There
was something terrifying m this pris
on into which he had fallen; in the
stale, sick smell of it He tried to
estimate how long Peter had been
gone. Five minutes? Ten? He sought
to count off sixty seconds, and
caught himself hurrying the count;
so he began to beat time with his
hand, tapping his knee rhythmical
ly. It took a long time to count
sixty seconds. There were sixty min
utes in an hour. To count sixty
seconds sixty times would need an
eternity.
It must be at least half an hour
since Peter left. Richard warned
himself to be conservative; he called
it twenty minutes. In an excess of
caution, he decided it was only fif
teen. If he began to expect Peter
too soon, waiting would be hard. A
rain squall drifted across the sky,
and a few drops pattered on the still
surface of the pool with little tinkling
sounds, almost musical. He liked
them. They were company, They
banished the dreadful silence here,
Peter must have reached the boati
by this time. Probably the men
were just sliding a boat into the wa
ter, shipping their oars. Peter would
drive them, make them hurry.
Richard sat down again, forcing
himself to relax, to stop thinking
about Peter. Peter would get here
as soon as he could. Richard lay
down on his back, his arm under
his head, watching that hole above
him, and the gray sky from which
rain again descended.
A man
watching that hole, waiting and
waiting for the head of a rescuer to
appear, could go crazy. Richard
dragged his eyes away from it
He studied the inside of his prison,
forcing himself to wonder about its
origin. The fire which dug this hole
in the peat must have burned for
years, eating its way down and
down till it came to hard pan. He
asked himself, aloud: "Why didn’t
rain put it out?”
He wondered how long a man
would live in this wet cold that bit
his bones. The thought made him
shiver, and he got up to warm him
self again.
Everywhere the soft
ash under his feet was honeycombed
by the little mice of fire that had
eaten tunnels in it; and his feet sank
into it halfway to his knees. He
hated the feeling, stopped walking,
beat his chest with his arm.
Richard thought he would be glad
to leave Hoakes Bay forever.
Now and then, in the back of his
mind, like a watching, beckoning
figure, Mary appeared. He shut his
thoughts against her. He must put
her out of his mind, keep her out of
his mind. Forever.
Peter would come soon. Surely
he would come soon.
Richard decided they might even
now be hunting for him, up there. He
began to shout.
He realized suddenly that he was
screaming like a maniac; and he
stopped in shame at himself, and
controlled his voice, and thereafter
he hallooed almost decorously, at
regular intervals.
But now he watched the opening
above him without respite, never
taking his eyes away from it.
It must be an hour since Peter
left him here. He refused to admit
to himself that more than an hour
had passed.
When the sky grew
darker, he argued desperately that
this was merely a thickening of the
clouds.
That was not merely a thickening
of the clouds above him. It was
dusk. Night was coming on. It had
been early in the afternoon when he
fell into the pit; so now he must
have been here five hours or six.
In any dreadful crisis, a man must
make for himself a formula. Rich
ard had no illusions about Peter; but
to believe that Peter had returned
aboard the Venturer and sailed
away, leaving him here in this pit
to die, would mean quick madness
and despair. Richard was of that
breed of man which does not de
spair, which does not surrender.
He found a formula, He decided
to believe that Peter, on hia way
back to the ship, had fallen into a
pit like this one. He decided to
believe that Peter too was a prison
er. The men must be hunting for
them now. Night was coming on;
but good Mat Forbes would keep the
men bunting all night.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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HERE S WHAT TO DO ABOUT
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FORGET
BAKING /AILÖRES
Use
A General Quiz
“„CLABBER
Tht Queationa
1. Which of the Great Lakes has
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2. In what country was the origi
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3. Of the bills vetoed by Presi
dents, does congress generally
pass them over the veto?
4. Nobel prises are awarded in
how many fields of endeavor?
5. What name is given to a
group of paid applauders?
6. From what language does the
word mile come?
7. Who are the Genro of Japan?
GIRL
BAKING POWDER
«
PRAISED BY MILLIONS
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Anger Is Madness
Rebound Tells
Anger is a momentary madness,
Attack is the reaction; I never
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1. Lake Ontario (245 feet above bounds—Samuel Johnson.
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Our Selfishness
For all may have, if they dare
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In all distresses of our friends
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