Grit LawlessYoung, F. E. Mills (Florence Ethel Mills)
Philosophy
Grit Lawless
Young, F. E. Mills (Florence Ethel Mills)
Africa -- Fiction
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
Grit Lawless
By F.E. Mills Young
Published by John Lane, The Bodley Head, London and New York.
This edition dated 1912.
Grit Lawless, by F.E. Mills Young.
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GRIT LAWLESS, BY F.E. MILLS YOUNG.
CHAPTER ONE.
"This job has grown. There has got to be a fourth in it, and the fourth
must be a man.--You understand?"
The speaker, who was known as the Colonel, took the cigar he was smoking
from his mouth the better to emphasise his words, and looked gravely
into the serious faces of his audience. It comprised a man of
middle-age, bearded, secretive, calculating; and one other. The other
was little more than a boy. By profession he was a mining engineer, by
disposition a scamp, ready to plunge into any undertaking that promised
adventure. The boy's head was bandaged where recently it had been
broken for him, and he sat very quiet and silent, which was unusual; as
the Colonel was wont to remark, he frequently talked too much. But he
was not proud of his broken head and its consequences, so he held his
peace.
"Do either of you know of a man likely to suit? He must be possessed of
a good nerve and a none too tender conscience. He'll have to put
himself outside the law--the business is outside the law. And he must
be a man we can trust."
The Colonel looked sharply from one to the other of his listeners, but
neither answered. The young engineer was sulkily examining his
finger-nails, displaying the same air of detachment that he had shown
throughout. He had received so severe a reprimand over the affair of
his broken head that he had felt strongly tempted to sever his
connection with the Colonel. Only that spirit of adventure that had led
him into it, and an unnatural greed of gain, prevented him from cutting
the concern.
"I want a man with grit," the Colonel said slowly. "There must be
plenty such men in Africa, if I could only put my hand on one."
As he paused the older man looked up suddenly. Something in the
Colonel's speech had jerked into his mind a name he had almost
forgotten.
"I knew a man once," he said, and hesitated because he was not quite
sure whether his knowledge of the man justified a recommendation. The
acquaintance had been of the slightest; his opinion of his character was
based more upon hearsay than deduction, but he believed it was not at
fault.
"Well?"
The Colonel threw in the interjection with sharp impatience, and the
other added briefly:
"He might not be sufficiently discreet. I know little of him... I did
him a service once."
"What are his qualifications for this job?" the Colonel asked, passing
over the half-implied doubt as to discretion. "Let us get hold of
facts; we can deal with surmises later."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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