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Updated: May 3, 2025
As he reached the gangplank he looked up straight into my eyes, stared for a moment, then waved his hand. And now I knew him. It was Dr. David Throckmartin "Throck" he was to me always, one of my oldest friends and, as well, a mind of the first water whose power and achievements were for me a constant inspiration as they were, I know, for scores other.
Fellow stood on the piano and sang the derndest song I've ever heard. But, gee, I don't think Miss Throck was on. She didn't seem to notice, I mean. Say, on the dead, do you think you could identify that fellow?" "Look here, boy, if anyone ever asks you whether I'd know that man's face if I saw it again, you just say that I'd know it in a thousand. I saw it plainly."
'If you go free I shall lose my dandling thing. He made as if to catch her by the wrist; but changing his purpose, ran from the room, shouting: 'Ho la!... Throck ... morton ... That ... is not.... His voice was lost in reverberations and echoes. In the darkness she stood desolately still.
Throck, he went on half earnestly, half laughingly, 'the purely scientific part of me is fighting the purely human part of me. The scientific part is urging me to find some way to get that slab either down or open. The human part is just as strongly urging me to do nothing of the sort and get away while I can! "He laughed again shamefacedly.
"Come! It's Goodwin." He made his way to me. "Throck," I said, wasting no time in preliminaries. "What's wrong? Can I help you?" I felt his body grow tense. "I'm going to Melbourne, Goodwin," he answered. "I need a few things need them urgently. And more men white men " He stopped abruptly; rose from his chair, gazed intently toward the north. I followed his gaze.
Fitfully before the ship and at her sides arose those stranger little swirls of mist that swirl up from the Southern Ocean like breath of sea monsters, whirl for an instant and disappear. Suddenly the deck door opened and through it came Throckmartin. He paused uncertainly, looked up at the sky with a curiously eager, intent gaze, hesitated, then closed the door behind him. "Throck," I called.
For I knew now that Throckmartin was ill indeed but with a sickness the ship's doctor nor any other could heal. "Dead! All Dead!" He was sitting, face in hands, on the side of his berth as I entered. He had taken off his coat. "Throck," I cried. "What was it? What are you flying from, man? Where is your wife and Stanton?" "Dead!" he replied monotonously. "Dead! All dead!"
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