The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1912-08-01

A mere scratch, madam-an inch
Of skin shaved off me arm. Be good
enough to return to the saloon, waken
Danny and send him to me-"
She ignored the curtness of his tone,
even as she ignored his wish. What
has happened" she demanded, rang
ing herself by his side. Who is that
there on the deck?" Her voice ris-
ing note, foreboded hysteria
"Quick-stabbed. l didn't want ye
to see. A lascar ran amok, cut down
the captain, was killed himself-kind-
ness" the irrepressible humorist
broke out" of our little brown brother,
the serang."
His eyes never left the latter; not
an instant did he take his attention
from the cluster of dark figures; he
was more than every ready to defend
himself should they make any overt
move, deeming his attention distract
ed
"What will you doo"
"How can I say? Do ye, for the
love Of God, get below and leave me
to deal wish tna.. y - -.
fashion
Which" she --t~s.. c~"aJ.., ''is
precisely what | sIA. -: g."
If that's the caas.' he 81 bus
queiy, have the kindness tc hand me
the revolver BY the CAP aims side, and
-ye might see if he poor fellow still
lives"
He heard a quick rustic of skirts
and the womans hand closed over his,
pressing into his palm the weapon he
had desired. AS promptly, without
further words, she turned to Quick.
The adventurer deliberated briefly,
while she bent over the captain, max
ing hurried examination. He Is
badly wounded" O'Rourke heard her
say, as he arrived at his decision, "but
not dead"
Praise God for that! .. I
must ask ye, madam, to back me up.
It is necessary to clear the decks. Are
ye ready?" He saw, out Of the tail
of his eye, that she had sprung to her
feet Now, ye curs," he thundered,
with a menacing pistol In either hand,
"get forward, the lot Of ye. Move, ye
blackguards!
They went expeditiously, crowding
between the deck-house and the rail,
budding together as If for mutual pro-
lection. The serang was the last to
move, and went reluctantly, or seemed
to.
Yet that was no time to Judge him
for q minor fault O'Rourke herded
the pack before him, watched them
scramble down the ladder to the fore
deck, then backed to the spot where
the woman stood above the captain.
His arm was paining him somewhat,
with the irritating, stinging ache that
such wounds produce, and he thrust
one revolver into his pocket, clasping
q hand above the hurt.
In fash realization of his loss
came to him: he clutched the rail with
a cry. The Pool of Flame, his sacred
trust, was gone! His eyes searched
the deck wildly, but found no trace Of
the round leather bag with its preci-
Gus burden. Despair gripped his heart
In clutch Of ice, and for space the
ship reeled about him.
He found himself gazing blankly IN
to the woman's solicitous eyes. What
Is It? What Is it?" he heard her voice
repeating breathlessly. He knew that
his own lips moved for some seconds
without sound as he strove to answer
her. The words, when they came,
should have. been quite unintelligible
to her; he realized this almost as soon
as he had uttered them: The Pool
Of Flannel"
Then he stumbled forward, crying
aloud for the serang. Halfway to the
ladder he halted; that individuals
head and shoulders were lifting above
the level Of the deck. O'Rourke Gov
cred him and called him aft as he
again retreated to the scene of the
tragedy.
Had he been In a condition to think
coherently, he might have acted more
prudently. But maddened, he was
able to grasp but one fact; that the
Pool Of Flame was gone and must be
racovarod Of uha tpyar hazard
TO BE CONTINUED.