Page:The Popular Magazine v72 n1 (1924-04-20).djvu/33

 had too magnanimously declined the half-hearted proffer of a golden gift. And this strange old miser of family honor and guardian of the object of a feud, said, very simply, “Don't want to take it on, eh? Well, back it goes. I'll keep it and while I'm its custodian I'd like to see any Powell take it away from me.”

He put it back in the cabinet and carefully, indeed, painstakingly, locked the door and, to make certain that it was locked, shook it to test its security.

“Uncle Lem,” Jimmy blurted in something akin to desperation, “you haven't asked me why I won't give such a pledge and accept the care of the box.”

“No, sir, I haven't. And I don't intend to,” his uncle replied in a tone that his nephew could not interpret. It might have been that of annoyance, or of resignation, or even contempt. He craved the respect of this elderly though yet vigorous old man, his sole remaining kinsman, who had so generously welcomed him and so frankly sought his affection, and he found it difficult to find words adequate to his personal predicament. He could appreciate the storm of wrath that would be evoked by his frank admission that he was in love with a daughter of the hated Powell clan, and that to her he had given a pledge of assistance for the recovery of that damnable and malevolent trinket of gold for whose intrinsic value any Powell or any Harnway could have taken no heed. Any of either clan could have bought a finer object without sacrificing a single mint julep in a day's visit to Washington.

“But—but, sir, suppose that I didn't wish to give such a promise, yet that I still coveted the box so much that I'd be tempted to steal it, and that”

“You are making supposititious cases! If you coveted the box you'd take it with the attendant conditions. And if you had some impossible, fool reason for not making a promise—which of course couldn't be, inasmuch as I'm talking about the Powells—well, I suppose you'd prove yourself a Harnway and try to take it by hook or crook. That's the way our tribe have usually gone after things they really wanted. We're like most families, I reckon, no better nor no worse. The difference between us and many others is that when we went after a thing we usually got it. Even if we had to—er—steal it! If you want this casket and don't care to give your pledge, why, you can some time take a chance on stealing it from me. And I'd like to see how any one could get away with that job!”

He stopped and burst into a roar of laughter that echoed and reëchoed throughout the great reception room that was dimming in the sunset glow now that the hour had lengthened.

“Uncle Lem,” said Jimmy, “it might come to that yet. I warn you, sir.”

“Go to it, Jimmy. If you get away with it you're welcome and I'll prove a good loser—to one of my own blood,” his uncle asserted as he led the way out of the stately old room, leaving it and its treasures to silence.

APTAIN JIMMY, coming out of his hotel on the morning after his avuncular visit, scowled as he saw the trim figure of his first officer approaching with that unmistakable swing of the sailor ashore. Captain Jimmy hastily glanced behind him to see if either Miss Tommie, or Pietro, was in sight, then advanced to meet the man, who was undoubtedly coming to him.

“Hello, Barton,” the captain greeted him. “I suppose you want to see me about something.” He scarcely veiled his annoyance, somewhat to his chief officer's surprise.

“Yes, sir, I did come ashore to see you. Knew you were still in the hotel because that gondolier of yours that's always hanging about”

“How did you know I had a regular gondolier of my own?” the captain demanded, surprised by the chief's knowledge of his movements.

“Why, sir, the old chap's that proud of being your man that he brags about it, and every man along the water front knows it now. I hope, sir, that you're not forgetting that we have a launch of our own aboard the Adventure and”

“No, Barton. I'm not forgetting. But—what is it you want?”

“That shipping agent has been aboard again and made a new offer. Splendid chance, I call it. About twenty per cent above regular rate. You remember his being aboard, and offering a cargo of cement from Spalato over to Alexandria? Well, it's that again. It seems that some big contractor in Heliopolis, Egypt, who is putting up an enormous hotel, or something like that, is going to be stuck unless he can get material,