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PAGE TEN The DEVIL'S MANT .' THE DEVIL'S--STORY R BLAKE, - PETE adventure im the South Seas, has taken a job with Tom Murchison, planter and trad- er. His employer is murder- ed during the night and a stock of pearls stolem by the assassins, who overpower Pes ter and carry him off to sea insensible-in an open boat. Heo is salldled with the mur- der and robbery, the mews of which is brought to Australia by Herman Rand when he calls on Humphrey Garth, the wealthicst man in Sydney, and his attractive, daughter, Mari. on. The news completely up sets father and daughter, and Garth offers £3000 reward for the apprehension of Pe. ter Blake as the murderer of his friend, Tom Murchison. When Blake comes to himself, it is in a crude tent on a fone ly island where ho has been nursed back to life by na tives, and his first lucid mo- ments bring him a call from Captain Jospphus Mumm, mas. ter of the good ship Break o' pawn, who carries him off to collect the reward offered be- cause of a crime which Peter never committed, Bad Weather. There had been bad weather-- days of it--ten days of it, «At sunset of the day Peter had come aboard, the Break o' Dawn had run into a northerly blow, and from that into a succession of gales each more violent, it had seemed, than the one hefore--and the Break o' Dawn had made but a poor fight of ft. She was very old even before Captain Josephus Mumm had picke ed her up for the proverbial song in Batavia--and that was ten years ago. She floundered now, little better than a hulk, crippled, an unlovely mass of wreckage, in a sea that swept her again and again fore and aft, and to which she rose in a sodden, helpless way, groaning her pain in every bulkhead and stanchion. And it was a night of utter black- ness, save when now and then a lightning flash cut a jagged, ugly streak through the inky sky. Pe- ter, sea-swept, drenched, wind- lashed, stood at the schooner's rail; idle, says for the effort to maintain his position. It was more comfort- able here, miserable though it was, than in the stuffy cabin below, He smiled, mockingly to himself, Of all on hoard, he alone had bene fitted by the voyage, The sea air and white man's food, coarse and badly prepared as that food had been, had brought him through a period of convalescence to almost perfect health again, And yet it had heen ten days of hell. Adrift in the Storm From where he stood Peter could make out one shape, and only one, upon the deck--a figure at the wheel---little more than a blotch in the darkness, discernible only be- cause of the faint glimmer from the binnacle jamps. But that did not mean that the Break o' Dawn was steering a "course." For days on end there shad not been a glimpse of the sun and no one on board knew her position, though Captain Josephus Mumm "guessed she was somewhere off the top-end of the Australian coast," With what was left of her of spars and rigging and rags of sail, she was hove-to, figut- ing now literally at her last gasp. A sudden lurch tore Peter from nis hold; a stinging sheet of spume Jashed him from head to foot, He recovered himself and swept the water from his face.. And then a strange, hoarse laugh, defiant, a challenge flung to the elements and to his fellow men burst from his lips, He was not only accused of the murder of Tom Murchison-- that was not enough--he was ac- cused of this! His free hand with knotted fist swept out around him ----he was accused even of the ill- fortune that had come upon this scuttling hulk. which in a few hours would probably be where she should have beep a dozen years ago -- rotting whatever there was left of her still unrotted at the bottom of the sea! it was the crew, of course. They were an ugly and unlovely lot-- was left of them. All na- tives. Mostly Lascars, Yar Lad, ithe mate, was a native of Bombay. But they suited Captain Josephus Mumm, who was a trader of for- tune, an itinerant wanderer, pick~ what jng at best a scanty living from whatever came his way, for they were cheaply housed, cheaply fed and magnificently indifferent to the haphazard movements of the Break o' Dawn. They were vengful by na- ture, steeped in the grossest ignor- ance, fanatical in their supersti- tions, and they blamed him, Peter, now for their present misfortunes, Jil-Luck and Trouble He was not sure but that Cap- tain Mumm, who, like every sailor, did not -himself lack superstition, was beginning to side with thenr. He, Peter Blake, was a murderer-- unclean, He, therefore, must be the cause of the ill-luck that, from ihe moment he had come aboard, had leaped itself day after day both upon the crew and the Break o Dawn herself. One disaster after another---an unending succession of them! Pe- ter's face hardened. Oh yes--that was quite true. So true that, to- night, little less than a miracle would avail them anything! His mind harked back in retro- spect. He had come aboard, of course, a very sick man, scarcely able to walk, and there had been no thought of confining him as a prisoner; then, little by little, he had got about, and had even be- gun to take a small part in the work aboard the schooner. He had essed and lived with Captain Jo- sephus Mumm in the little cabin. Captain Mumm had been neither THE OSHAWA DAILY TIMES, THURSDAY, APRIL 26, 1928 PJ NP Wo Zl friendly nor unfriendly. Once, and once only, he, Peter, had attempt- ed to discuss his own case with the other, Captain Josephus Mumm had dismissed the matter peremptorily. CONTINUED "That's all right, my lad," he had grunted with finality, "Mab- be you murdered Tom Murchison and mabbe you didn't. It ain't for me to say. That ain't my hunt. The point is that you're Peter Blake, and there's - 5,000 pounds for the man that hands you over to the police--and Captain Jose- phus Mumm is the man that's go- ing to do it, if hell freezes over. and that's that!" From the first the weather had grown worse and worse; and as though a pitiless, immutable fate was at work, one disaster had' fol- olwed another, until, through con- stant repetition, fear and panic stalked aboard the {ll fated schooner. On the third day af- ter leaving the island the Break o' Dawn's fore top-hamper went by the board; the next day one of the crew followed the top-hamp- er; twenty-four hours later one of the two boats was stove in; the following day the mainmast went, killing a man; and then-- The Hoodoo Peter laughed out mirthlessly again, They blamed him for this! At first, apart from eyeing him with curiosity, they had been indifferent to-his presence, then they had begun to show sullen aversion, which had later broken out into muttered discontent; and then, fanned into flame hy Yar Lal, the mate, the situation had climaxed that afternoon with open threats, and a refusal, desperate as their need of added man power had been at the moment, to pull a rope with him--for, that after- noon, Durga, the man who had ac- companied Captain Mumm and Yar Lal into the hut where he, Peter, had been found, had been struck down hy some (falling tackle, d now lay somewhere up forward here in the fo'c'sle with what was probably 'a fractured skull, And that, too, was the re- sult of the unclean thing that was among them! Well, what did it matter? To- ight would porbably see the end of it for everybody aboard, They'd curse him as they died, of course! There was something grimly hum- orous in that -- stupendously fu- tile. What did it all matter, He was in a rotten mess, anyway--a beastly mess. Tom Murchison! Yes, that mattered! He would have liked to live to pay his ac- count for that with--somebody. Not likely now! 4 He gripped = tenaciously at his hold as another ugly sea curled aboard and set the deck deep awash, 4 a vague, unreal memory, that meeting in the lobby of the the- atre in London, two years ago, now, would still remain with her. Wonld They Meet? Strange! Very strange! He had been very sure too, always sure, that, at the turning of some corner, as it were, he and she would meet again, He had heen sure of this up til' now, so sure of it that, since his "arrest" it had been a source of horror to him. He had dreaded it more than anything else connected with « By Frank L. Packard = q Hie His glance fell on a lpng-bladed knife a few feet beyond him (Copyright by Public Ledger) (fp A fll [li 3a Ri (0 kk ui | (Lhd I miserable accusation against him, more than any penalty that, -fail- ing to prove his innocence, might be meted out to him. Again and again he had pictured the scene, dreamed it a his dreams -- last night he had started up out of his sleep with the. vivideese of it bringing the sweat beads out in great dfops upon his forehead. Where else' under the circum- stances could they meet? He was standing in the dock arraigned on a charge of murder--and she. was sitting there a spectator in the court room. It was absurd, fan- tastical! The Break o' Dawn! The Break o° Dawn! Who named her that? What a fund of irony. She wasn't. likely to see any break of dawn tomorrow! She had lifted to that last sea, was lifting now to another, in a pitifully listless way -- like some human bit of wreckage that worn out at last after a long and bit- ter struggle, was slipping into that final stage of coma just pre- ceding dissolution. Oh, yes, they'd probably curse him as they died. If ever he had read hate in the eyes of men, he had read it in the eyes of Yar Lal, and those of the others who were left of the crew--five, counting Yar Lal and that poor devil with the smashed head -- five out of seven! His laugh rang short and mirthless once more, Well, he wouldn't die with any added pangs on that score! Their curses ended here, or would end here, with the howl of the wind and the rush of the sea. The other thing was the worst--Peter RBRlake murdered Tom Murchison, That would last-- endure, Good old head, after all. Sir Martin Hadley--old school, of course, but a decent chap. He could see Sir Martin's stunned white face. A lot of beastly gossip, too, in the elubs. Rough on the old pater's friends, And then she'd know-- no, thank God, she wouldn't! She didn't know he was Peter Blake. Strange he should be so sure she its-Burns Vicks' healing, antie septic ingredients bring soothing re lief. Apply gently PHONE 22 For Your Drug Needs THOMPSON'S 10 Simcoe St. S. We Deliver Amy 18 Simcoe Str:et South leindelebg Se 2h 8 ones eld Phones 12 > ~' pel Put them on over dealer. Cleve Fox 26 Simcoe St. 5. 15 Simcoe St. SA A oe fo lol ee ol fl The Carew Lumber Co., Limited. 74 Athol Street West LUMBER MERCHANTS Estimates gladly given Requirements prompily filled Te or op Ao oe rp pe pp leo fe Re-roof any time with BIRD'S SHINGLES Pp g your home to the clements. No clutter. waste labor, And they are on for keeps--weather proof--fite gesistant--beautiful. Ask your roofing DIVISION BUILDING PRODUCTS LIMITED BIRD'S Roofs _ 7, and 1111 Never mind the weather! No ex- No the old wobden shingles. BIRD & SON Toronto Moaueal ' Hardware had not long ago forgotten a face that she had seem but once in all her life, and then but for am in- stant, But he was sure. She had not forgotten; she would nev- er forget--not that it had at all necessarily remained with her as some great, vital moment ih her life as it had with him; it might perhaps have left with her no more impression than that of a lingering wonder, but it was im- possible that she could forget. He knew that -- as sometimes one knows the truth of things in one's inmost soul. He knew that, so long as she lived, if only at odd, unexpected moments, with long in- tervals between, and longer as the years went by, no doubt, and per- haps at the end as no more than Why should she be in a court- room, anyway? And, besides, the width of the world lay between them. Nevertheless the thought, a product of his own unwarranted imagination though it might be, had persisted and had become a wretched obsession with him. Well, that was all at a end tonight There wouldn't be any éourtroom; there wouldn't be any arraignment of Peter Blake for the murder of Tom Murchison--except as it lived, an unaswered- untried charge in the minds of men until some newen sehsation took its place and it faded away into the limbo of oblivion. He gave the Bréak o' Dawn, and Yar Lal with his ugly lot, and Cap- tain Josephus Mumm, with his gare goyle face, and himself, Petar Blake, with his memories and his unsavory notoriety, a matter of hours--no more than that at most, and-- Stroke in the Dark A startled, half-smothered cry ca.ie suddenly from his lips, and instinctively Peter flung himself back against the schooner's rail. It had come out of the night dark- ness without warning--come and gone into incredible swiftness. Something had touched his chegk-- like a bat brushing its wing across his face, Imagination? A wisp of spray errant from its fellows? 'Peter brushed his hand across his face, It was wet, Naturally, it was wet! A flash of lightning made mo- mentary daylight, Peter was star- ing at his hand. There was som» thing red on it, His eyes lifted, and Lefore the flash was swallowed up in the darkness again, his glance fell on a long-bladed knife a few feet beyond him, its point imbed- ded in the deck, its hatt still quiv- ering like a tuning-fork, Peter's face was set in hard, chiseled lines, So it had come to this, had it? He strained his eyes forward. He could see nothing but the figure faintly outlined by the binnacle lamps, It was impossible from their relative positions, taking into account the location of the knife, where it had struck the deck, that the man at the wheel could have thrown it. So, though he was nowhere to be seen in the darkness, it must have been Yar Lal, the mate! There was nobody else on deck. The mate had the watch--if it could be called a watch. Captain Mumm was below drunk with sleep and exhaustion--so, too, probably, were the two others who remained of the crew, not counting the man wii the 'broken Isead. Peter groped for a moment in the darkness and found the knife. Then, watching his chance against the seas and the schooner's lurch, Ae gained the companionway, and descended the shory ladder-like steps to the cabin, The cabin was stuffy, hot, un- wholesome, It was a miserable hole iat best, too small at any time for even: a modicum of comfort, An cil-lamp, suspended from the ceil- inz, swung like a distracted pen- lulum over the squat, bare tabie, and at times in the violence of its motion smoked a little. Stretched out on a locker, that likewise did duty for table seats, lay Captain Josephus Mumm asleep, The man hado't a dry rag on him, and in the confined, urventilated space he sicamed, Peter's face lost some 9! its own grimness as he stared at tLe other. The man had flung him- self down there obviously indiffer- ent and too worn out to care about the greater ease his bunk in the o-called stateroom, just olf the forward end of the cabin, might Lave afforded him and his face ow, even in repese, was haggard and pinched, and, with his mouth wide open and the red hair, tangled and matted, straggling over ais forchead, he was an ungracious sight--but Peter, though he had no reason to love the other, was conscious now of a sudden sense of mingled pity and admiration.) lic cid not know how many hours cn cnd in the last ten days the man liad gone without sleep and done the work of two men besides, bul very many of them, with very short irtervals of rest in between. Cap tain Jesephus Mumm had made a fine fight of it. There was nothing uncouth about the grit and cour- age the man had displayed, Pater toyed with the knife in his Land. What was the use, after all: Better 1°t the man sleep! What particular difference did it make whether it was now or an hou: from now that the other was toid about the Jittle affair that just happened on deck--or ever, for that matter! : On His Guard The Break o' Dawn would zo down before the night was out--- and that would end everything ef- fectually enough! And then Peter started suddenly, The shrewd littie eres of the man on the locker were wide open, staring at him. Out of what had apparently been profound slumber and whether or not due t0.a life- trained to alertness, Cap- tain Josephus Mumm had become suddenly and intensely awake. "Ha, you swine!" ejaculated Captain Josephus Mumm, jerking himself up swiftly on his elbow, his eves riveted on the knife in Peter's hand. "Caught you just in time, did 1? Going to play your Tom Muygchison tricks on me, were you?" He sprang to his feet, his face in fury. "Well, I'll show you!" N. Oshawa, Ont. (To Be Continued) FI Our unrivalled Sale of Furs starts tomorrow. 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