The best short stories of 1921, and the yearbook of the American short story
General
The best short stories of 1921, and the yearbook of the American short story
American fiction -- 20th century; Short stories -- 20th century -- Bibliography; Short stories -- 20th century -- Indexes; Short stories, American
She looked at him with her big black eyes. "I believe you mean that,
Conboy. I believe I'll do it. But I'll be fair and square with you as
you are with me. You'd better let me be; you know what I'm like. I won't
make you happy; I never pretended I would. And as for him killing me,
how do you know, Conboy, I mightn't lose my temper first?"
"He'll break you," said Conboy. "God! but he's a man without pity! Don't
you know how he drives his men? Don't you know the stories about his
first wife? He's put some of his magic on you. You're nothing but a poor
little lamb, Deolda, playing with a wolf, for all your spirit. There's
nothing he'd stop at. Nothing," he repeated, staring at Johnny. "I
wouldn't give a cent for that Johnny Deutra's life until I'm married to
you, Deolda. I've seen the way Mark Hammar looks at him--you have, too.
I tell you, Mark Hammar don't value the life of any man who stands in
his way!" And the way the old man spoke lifted the hair on my head.
Then all of us were quiet, for there stood Captain Hammar himself.
"Why, Mark, I thought you'd gone down the Cape!" said Conboy.
"I lost the train," he answered.
"Well, what about that vessel you was going to buy in Gloucester?"
"I got to sail over," said Captain Hammar.
Conboy glanced out of the window. The bay was ringed around with heavy
clouds; weather was making. Storm signals were flying up on Town Hill,
and down the harbor a fleet of scared vessels were making for port.
"You can't go out in that, Mark," says Conboy.
"I've got the money," says Mark Hammar, "and I'm going to go. If I don't
get down there that crazy Portygee'll have sold that vessel to some one
else. It ain't every day you can buy a vessel like that for the price.
He let me know about it first, but he won't wait long, and he's got to
have the cash in his hands. He's up to some crooked work or he wouldn't
'a' sent the boy down with the letter; he'd 'a' sent it by post, or
telegraphed even. He's let me know about it first, but he won't wait. It
was getting the money strapped up that made me late. I had to wait for
the old cashier to get back from his dinner."
"You and your money'll be in the bottom of the bay, that's where you'll
be," said Conboy.
"If I'd taken in sail for every little bit o' wind I'd encountered in my
life," said Mark Hammar, "I'd not be where I am now. So I just thought
I'd come and run in on Deolda before I left, seeing as I'm going to
marry her when I get back."
Johnny Deutra undid his long length from the chair. He was a tall, heavy
boy, making up in looks for what he lacked in head. He came and stood
over Mark Hammar. He said:
"I've had enough of this. I've had just enough of you two hanging around
Deolda. She's my woman--I'm going to marry Deolda myself. Nobody else is
going to touch her; so just as soon as you two want to clear out you
can."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account