Picture-Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY 29 astir. She constrained herself imiently. therefore, and stood at the watching the break under the trees faugh which the men had disap : red. •oon a single sailor came down to the ■ich in full sight of the yacht, seated lself under one of the trees near the T t. and sat smoking quietly. Clearly had been sent back by Pinckney to fe{= as a guard, to keep return communi|ions open and to signal for aid from • yacht, should anything go wrong, at this was so became evident when waved an arm to attract attention. ; tnces. lifting her glance quickly to the cssa's bridge, caught the acknowledggesture of Adrian, the skipper. -Adrian, after he had satisfied him: f as to the disposition of the forces m the shore, was descending to the «tf|k. "Oh, captain \" Frances turned impulely to the big seaman. "Father is 1 asleep ; it's so early. But I am goto have breakfast brought out here 'der the awning forward. You've been all night. Wouldn't you like to have : ne coffee here with me before turning 21 f|>'> 'I should indeed, Miss Frances, thank ! But there'll be no turning in for : afterward." But haven't you been up all night? id aren't we anchored now?" asked ; girl, in surprise. Oh, I didn't mean that navigating 3)uld keep me up, Miss Frances. But you see?" He pointed eloquently to long lifeboat near at hand. "Oh, I see!" cried the girl, as she fol.ved his indication ; for she saw that, ough the remaining boat had not been .vered from its davits, yet the ropes d all been loosened; that the canvas ijver had been removed, and that a ezen guns and cartridge belts and re-Ivers lay ready upon the seats. "You're afraid of trouble for Mr. nckney, captain?" "Not exactly, Miss Frances." The ipper settled himself comfortably in s seat opposite the girl as a steward ought the coffee and rolls. "I mean, ain't afraid of trouble ashore, one ay or the other; for I don't know ivthing about what's going on there hore. This what you see is just Mr. inckney's orders. I don't know what : might be providing against, for he. isn't told me anything of his plans, Miss Frances. He's just given me his orders, and I'm just obeying them." "I don't understand!" "Nor neither do I, Miss Frances." "I mean," she resumed carefully, conscious that the old skipper was affronted by dictation from her father's guest, "I don't quite see, if Mr. Pinckney was so afraid of trouble that he prepared all this to help him out, why he didn't take more men with him at first. He certainly could have taken more, considering the extra crew he engaged for father at Guam." "That's the thing I don't well understand, Miss Frances. He's taken all those men he hired there, and " "What, Adrian?" "Why, Miss Frances, no matter how secret he wants to keep his going after that gold, it's queer he wouldn't take me or one of the mates, though we all volunteered to go with him ; but it's queerer that, of all the men he took, only two are from our regular crew, and they're the stupidest men on the ship. That man smoking there on the beach is one." The skipper pointed aggrievedly. "And all but one of the others, and all their rifles and belts and pistols which they took and what you see here, Miss Frances, we shipped at Guam." "But what has father told you about this, captain?" "I don't believe your father, miss, knows any more about this than I do. Mr. Pinckney was talking to him late night before last ; and Mr. Durant told me to carry out any of Mr. Pinckney's orders like his own. So that's what I've been doing. But one thing more struck me, and that is " "What, captain?" "Nothing, Miss Frances ; only it's struck me more than once, since he told me so suddenly to steer for Bagol, if he — Mr. Pinckney — had ever meant to go to Manila first, why did he ship these men and things at Guam? But — thank ye again, Miss Frances !" The skipper recollected himself, a little afraid of his suspicion after he had expressed it. He arose hurriedly, excused himself, and returned to the bridge. It was still an hour before her father would be awake, so she tried to piece her puzzle together by herself. Even before they left home, she had been conscious of a certain strangeness in Etherington's actions. But this particular strangeness seemed to have started at Guam, when the Filipino came to Etherington and told him of the gold claims which certain of the refractory chiefs of Bagol were anxious to sell out. The man had said that the making of the arrangements might involve some risks ; but, as the venture promised great profit, Pinckney had asked for leave at least to look over the ground. It had seemed natural enough, as he talked it over with her father, that he should wish to go there at once ; but then, if he had not planned that from the first, why had he shipped those extra men and arms at Guam? And then, why had he acted so queerly in the wireless room on the previous day? Why had he told that strange story of the San Juan's commander, to stop her communication with the American gunboat? A sudden thought caused her to arise and make her way to the wireless cabin. She touched the key, but the coils, she found, did not respond. She sprang down to the dynamo room just below, and saw quickly that the current for the Marconi apparatus above was being properly provided. She hastened back to the resonator, and, recalling the plug which had been loosened the morning before, felt for it and found that it had been screwed out and removed. Her eyes sought the locker where Etherington kept his tools and a few private trifles. Taking a paper cutter from the table, she thrust the blade above the lock and forced the catch. The first thing her fumbling fingers encountered was the missing plug. She snatched it up, screwed it into place between the coils before her, and sat back a moment in breathless triumph. "Tap — ta-a-ap — tap !" The receivers before her rang out at once. "Irvcssa! Mr. Durant! Irvessa!" TO BE CONTINUED. What the Cartoonist Does. IT costs Harry Palmer, the Mutual * cartoonist, some effort to "Keep Up With the Joneses." He is making a split-reel cartoon, entitled "Keeping Up With the Joneses," every week for the Mutual. For every foot of film Mr. Palmer has to make sixteen drawings, and he has something between two hundred and three hundred feet a week to get ready, or from thirty-two hundred to forty-eight hundred separate pictures.