Gordon Craig eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 273 pages of information about Gordon Craig.

Gordon Craig eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 273 pages of information about Gordon Craig.

“I doubt if you do,” he went on, angered by her contempt.  “Well, think it over.  This is my ship, and we ’re at sea.  I ’m owner and captain, and my word on board here is the law.  More than that, there is n’t a man-jack of the crew aft of the main mast.  They are forward on my orders, and they ’ll stay there until I send for them.  You could scream your head off, my beauty, and no one would hear you, or dare interfere.  Now do you perceive why it is to your interest to be kind to me?”

“I do not.”

He laughed, rendered ugly by her open defiance.

“Then I ’ll teach you.  You are not the first of your kind I have tamed, young lady.  The door is locked, and you have n’t any weapon; don’t try to fool me!”

“I have told you once,” she said earnestly, “not to touch me.”

He glanced about sneeringly, yet impressed by her manner of speaking.

“Good Lord! do you mean Craig?  A lot that fellow will help you.  But we ’ve had enough of this.  Will you come over here to me?”

“No!”

“Then I’ll take a chance; damn me, but you’re worth it!”

Neither one saw me, yet I was across the room before he had taken the two steps forward, and gripped her arm.  I saw her struggle to break free, and then, out of the shadow I leaped at him, both hands seeking his throat.  There was to be no alarm, no shooting, if it could be avoided.  While it might be true, as he had boasted, that the crew was forward, we could afford to take no chance.  The very impetus of my rush sent him staggering, and left her helpless on the deck; yet I got grip on his collar, choking back the first cry, and struck him once, a half-arm jolt, which would have sent him sprawling, but for the cabin wall.  Yet he rallied so quickly as to overcome this advantage.  Judging him from his size I had underrated his fighting ability, for he was all muscle, swift in movement as a cat, squirming out of my grasp before I could close firmly.  His contact with the wall helped him to keep his feet, yet, quick as his recovery was, he failed to break my grip, and we struggled fiercely for advantage.  He recognized me, and understood instantly.  He was a wrestler, while I must rely upon sheer strength to overcome his tricks.  Even as he adventured first I had him pinned tight, and we strained back and forth across the cabin deck, neither able to throw the other, in grim, relentless struggle.  My fingers were wrenched from his throat, yet the fellow made no outcry, realizing doubtless he would not be heard.  His eyes blazed with hate, merciless, vindictive, and he struggled like a fiend to break free.  I saw the girl, still dazed from her fall, struggling to her feet, with face uplifted, then my every consideration was riveted on my antagonist.  This was to be no boy’s play, no easy victory; his muscles were like iron, his movements so quick and unexpected as to put me on the defensive.  I could only hold tight, braced for the strain, yet

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Gordon Craig from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.