Manchurian Books

I took a hypodermic from my case and filled it with morphine. I drew
Da Costa to me.
"Get to the side of him," I whispered, "talk to him." He moved over
toward the wheel.
"Where is your Helma and Freda, Olaf?" he said.
Huldricksson turned his head toward him. "The shining devil took
them," he croaked. "The moon devil that spark--"
A yell broke from him. I had thrust the needle into his arm just
above one swollen wrist and had quickly shot the drug through. He
struggled to release himself and then began to rock drunkenly. The
morphine, taking him in his weakness, worked quickly. Soon over his
face a peace dropped. The pupils of the staring eyes contracted. Once,
twice, he swayed and then, his bleeding, prisoned hands held high and
still gripping the wheel, he crumpled to the deck.
With utmost difficulty we loosed the thongs, but at last it was done.
We rigged a little swing and the Tonga boys slung the great inert body
over the side into the dory. Soon we had Huldricksson in my bunk.


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