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Tracy, Louis, 1863-1928

"The Stowaway Girl"

He had never been taught, it seemed, that
a man who can use his fists commands a readier weapon than a sword in
its scabbard. Hozier eyed him. There was no love lost between them.
For a fraction of a second San Benavides was in a position of real
peril.
Then Dom Corria said coldly:
"No interference, I pray you, Senhor Adjudante. Kindly withdraw."
His tone was eminently official. San Benavides saluted and stepped
back. The dark scar on De Sylva's forehead had grown a shade lighter,
but there was no other visible sign of anger in his face, and his
luminous eyes peered steadily into Hozier's.
"Let me understand!" he said. "You hold my life as forfeit if any
mischance befalls Miss Yorke?"
"Yes."
"I accept that. Of course, you no longer challenge my direction of
affairs?"
"I am no match for you in argument, senhor, but I do want you to
believe that I shall keep my part of the compact."
Coke, familiar with De Sylva's resources as a debater, and by no means
unwilling to see Hozier "taken down a peg," as he phrased it; eager,
too, to witness the Brazilian officer's discomfiture if the second mate
"handed it to him," thought it was time to assert himself.
"I'm goin' to 'ave a nap," he announced. "Either you or Watts must
take 'old.


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