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The After House by Mary Roberts Rinehart
page 13 of 225 (05%)
My preparation took little time. Such of my wardrobe as was worth
saving, McWhirter took charge of. I sold the remainder of my books,
and in a sailor's outfitting-shop I purchased boots and slickers--
the sailors' oil skins. With my last money I bought a good revolver,
second-hand, and cartridges. I was glad later that I had bought the
revolver, and that I had taken with me the surgical instruments,
antiquated as they were, which, in their mahogany case, had
accompanied my grandfather through the Civil War, and had done, as
he was wont to chuckle, as much damage as a three-pounder. McWhirter
came to the wharf with me, and looked the Ella over with eyes of
proprietorship.

"Pretty snappy-looking boat," he said. "If the nigger gets sick,
give him some of my seasick remedy. And take care of yourself, boy."
He shook hands, his open face flushed with emotion. "Darned shame
to see you going like this. Don't eat too much, and don't fall in
love with any of the women. Good-bye."

He started away, and I turned toward the ship; but a moment later I
heard him calling me. He came back, rather breathless.

"Up in my neighborhood," he panted, "they say Turner is a devil.
Whatever happens, it's not your mix-in. Better--better tuck your
gun under your mattress and forget you've got it. You've got some
disposition yourself."

The Ella sailed the following day at ten o'clock. She carried
nineteen people, of whom five were the Turners and their guests.
The cabin was full of flowers and steamer-baskets.

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