For a Grim Tale With a Terrifying
End We Recommend
The
Skull
By Harold Ward
Kimball held up his hand, warningly.
"Listen!" he exclaimed in a whisper.
Then he shoved the bottle back from his elbow and reached for his revolver, which hung just above the table. Buckling the belt about his waist, he leaped for the door and threw it open.
The house, raised on pile foundations a dozen feet above the ground, shook beneath the rush of retreating footsteps. With the swiftness of a wild animal, he gathered himself for the spring—and landed squarely astride the back of the last of the blacks to quit the place.
The weight of the white man brought the native to the ground. Seizing the black by the hair, he jerked him to his feet, keeping the naked body between himself and the crowd that lurked in the darkness, just beyond the ring of light that shone down through the open door.
"What name?" he demanded in the beche-de-mer of the Islands. "What for you come around big fella house? I knock seven bells out of you quick!"
Still grasping the man's kinky wool with his left hand, his right shot out, landing a terrific blow on the native's mouth. The black, spitting blood and broken teeth, squirmed in agony and attempted to give a side glance at his fellows. Seeing that none intended to aid him, he jerked his head to one side in an effort to escape. The white man straightened it with another blow.
"What name?" he demanded again.
"Me good fella boy," the black answered with an effort. "Me fella missionary!"
"Then you say one fella prayer damn quick!"
Kimball rained blow after blow on his face. The savage shrieked with agony. In the shadow, the blacks shuffled uneasily, like a herd of cattle ready to stampede, but the white man seemingly gave them no heed.
At last, the punishment completed, he jerked the bow and arrows from the unresisting hand of his victim and, whirling him suddenly, gave him a kick and a shove which landed him on all fours in the midst of the others. Then, turning, seemingly ignoring the thoroughly frighted blacks, he reëntered the house.
Throwing the bow and arrows on the table, he poured himself a stiff drink of gin and downed it at a gulp. And
