Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 192: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

186 We are here at last. after some very stirring experiences by sea and land. Came from Grand Cayman, itself full of obeah, wreck and mystery, on a freighter loaded with gasoline, which was worse than an open barrel of gunpowder. Were over a week on that death-trap. The slightest spark would have blown us all to atoms. It was sure some tick- lish experience, living in a heavy reek of gas, and I admit I was seared. Mighty glad to get foot on “terra cotta” again. I see a big story in this— a maniac on a gasoline steamer, running amuck with a torch. Have positively all the dope on this sort of conveyance; far more than I enjoyed getting. The captain told me the exact location of a Spanish galleon on a reef not far from Cayman. He wants to go after several “chists” of gold in three fathoms of water, with me. [I'll give you the whole story when I get back to N. Y. He’s a hardheaded old Caymanian, and no phantom-chaser; positively affirms the stuff is there, and that if we could get a schooner and a diver we could salvage it: Seems to me as if there ought to be some man with a bit of cash and time, who would cooperate. The cap’n and J have the time but not the cash. We could give the backer the thrill of his life and a 25% share of the loot. Maybe you can help me locate the right man. This sounds like a _ wild-goose scheme, but judging by the character of the cap’n, I have entire confidence in it, the more so as some friends of his have already taken a good bunch of coin from the same reef. One month’s supplies would be needed, as rough weather might hold up the game. We should have to, wait for a calm day or two before diving. Think it all over, and prepare for the full story when J arrive. I am now full of obeah, voodoo, treasure, Spanish sunburn, sharks, palms, coconuts and bananas, but no oil of same. In a few days, leave for the Virgin Islands, then back here and to New York. With best personal wishes, I am as ever, Most cordially yours—ENGLAND. If any reader desires to inquire further concerning this project, it would be wise to address Mr. England at Bradford, New Hampshire. Once Aboard Your Lugger— ND THE DELIGHT of far horizons is yours! “The gal”—well, we’ve always found her there, too. (Note: For once we employ the editorial “‘we’’!). So shall you find her, probably in every port—or even back of beyond. It’s the toughest thing I have to face— this having to tell other comrades about a thousand and one trips I’d like to make! One of these times—in Camp-Fire—I’m going to put in a bid for a certain chap I ADVENTURE know. He is six feet two, weighs one- ninety, was a fair boxer, a poor-to-fair shot, a good enough swimmer for thirty- five, and able to cook desert or mountain chuck. But he has never been to sea— except on liners, and on two-masted fish- ing schooners. I won’t reveal his name. But if after you read these letters which follow, if you still are interested at all— Since I was a kid I’ve been watching the sil- houettes of men from the far places, pass before your Camp-Fire. Ive brushed sleeves at times with some of these “silhouettes” at Slave Lake, Matamoras, Burk-Burnett, Miami, or on a little Belgian boat or a liner. I chatted with one on a broken wall at Soissons: stripped souvenirs from another’s plane at Fismes; picked up another’s broken sword in the Avoncourt Woods. Once in a while it occurs to me that I ought to throw a chip or two on the Camp-Fire flames. I have a chip—a little brass plate—that is good fuel. It carries a name that electrified the world one hot day in July a few years ago. But it will tell its own story; and I’m almost convinced that I should offer it for the walls when Adventure opens its igloo as a meeting place for glorious vagabonds. Also, I’m going after more fuel for the fire. We're going out in a windjammer when my partner gets back. He’s gone down to see if the equator is still in its proper place. Our boat is not quite sixty-five feet long and is shoal draft, so we ought to be able to go lots of places. And now comes the problem. We are going purely for pleasure, and we have from now on to make the cruise or cruises. We have been asking many questions. And still we haven’t decided just all we want to do. We plan to cruise the South American and African coasts. We'll have a movie camera, motorcycles and small speed boat. We'll have short and long wave length radio. Now we want advice. Perhaps we won't take it when we get it; but I’m asking for it. What would you do, Mr. Adventure, if you wanted pleasure and excitement and still do something which would count? I’m garrulous, I know, but you’re such a friendly human and such a good listener. Our idea is to keep to the “back of beyond,” visiting cities only occasionally. Haven’t you some pet “far place” which you would like to visit by proxy? Or some animal whose existence you’d like verified? Perhaps you ought to know our joint equipment in knowledge. My partner is pretty smart; so we know French, Spanish, German, English—photog- raphy and painting—antiques—animals—geology— geography—marine science— Well, we'll have a large encyclopaedia along, anyway, to look things up. comnlicloooks.com