Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

168 owned; what he could buy. While the. crew pumped, he figured. In the end his figuring, ike the pumping of the crew, produced no more substantiali- ty than its activity and its belief in itself. There was much to be gained; it ended there. He could not make a price by think- ing it, nor could the laboring, sweating men make the pumps suck dry by hop- ing it. When this fact of the vessel’s condition dawned on the forecastle, the pumps did not cease to clank; rather, they clanked the harder, while all eyes centered upon Arnie. He perceived this and met those eyes with the laugh of perfect confidence; whereat they laughed, too, in their supreme con- fidence in him. They reasoned not at all in trusting him; he reasoned scarcely more in trusting himself. Hadn’t he taken in sinking ships before? To Grant he narrated the incident of the Snowbird’s abandonment by her captain and of how Japes‘and he and a few others had worked her to San Francisco while her hold lay half-full of water. He spoke of the incident as nothing unusual. Charley Grant gazed at him out of his strange, oppressed eyes. Fear had come back into those eyes again; he could not conquer it permanently. “Did the others put it up to you, sir? Was that it?” he asked. “Did they?” responded Arnie, grinning hugely. “They’d have given all they owned to take to the boat. I fought ’em! -I made ’em stay! They didn’t dare do otherwise. They hated me.” “Tt’s different then,’ Grant suggested. He seemed to plead. ‘Not a man aboard here but thinks you know everything and can do anything. They’d never take to the boats till you gave the word. They don’t even bother to look into the hatches.” He strained forward. “But she leaks faster than they can pump, sir.” “Then, blow my ears, I'll teach ’em to And Arnie flung out of the cabin and, whisking off his cap and his shirt, he spat on his hands and toiled on to the pump- handle. They turned expressive faces to- ward him and redoubled their energy. Arnie watched the deep draft of the full-set canvas speeding them northward—north- ward—and made the handle to dance with his furious determination. Adventure ON—ON—past Point Sacrificios— ‘Sy past all that rugged Mexican coast— now Santa Rosa Island lifting out of the sea and bringing memories—Cape St. Lucas somewhere far to starboard. Blow, blow, wind! More sail! All she has— skys’ls—stu’ns’ls—crack ’em on! Clank —slank! And always the bubble and gush—— Japes showed a very desperation as he fought for a place with the others. Sea Otter Island—why, that meant the Faral- lones and Eugenie and a race, a race for two thousand dollars—maybe three—and a far-called scent not detectable to the nos- trils of the lofty, resinous Maine woods crowding grandly to the rocky shore. High-pitched rang his singing; gleaming wet ran his pinched, anemic face. A race. A race against odds. He looked straight into Arnie’s eyes; they exchanged wordless messages. It had been done before; it could be done again! “God help us, sir!” hoarsely whispered Grant in Arnie’s ear. “It’s as high as ever! It’s no go, sir! Shall I pass the word to abandon = “°Fraid?” Arnie shot searchingly; and that dead-white calm petrified the mate’s visage. Teeth set, lips moving inaudibly, he gripped the handle and pumped. All Saints’ Bay—how vividly Arnie re- called it! Then California—and the water gaining slightly—Point Concepcion—that was something like. Grant’s face told him he should trim sail now and make straight in and beach her; but he was for San Fran- cisco. Nowhere else was there money for the Jessica. And now the water rose a full inch every quarter of an hour. Arnie’s lightning mind calculated while his numbing arms rose and — fell, pumping, pumping, pumping. Aye, they could make it, if the wind held and the strained pumps did not burst. Ah! He had not considered that. The thought tormented him. They were aged pumps. The men must not be allowed to think of that. If they did—— They did not; it was not that; it was no more than evil chance which sent a sprawled, panting man too near the main hatch. The sound in that horrible hold—an eye turned downward observing the truth—the word brought to the captain as if—as if it were news. at him, not quite understanding, full of eoniicbooks Then every pair of eyes gaped . (C@)