Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

snappy’s Promotion than the first, lifted him bodily in the air and slammed him as suddenly on his belly to the deck. For what was to him an indefinite length of time—probably not over a few short minutes—he lay still, stunned and gasping for his breath, half expecting another ex- - plosion, but as none came he rolled over on his side slowly, as though trying to ascertain the number of broken bones in his body, and then, apparently fully satisfied that there were none, gradually pulled himself to his feet. As he did so he discovered that the list of the deck was three times as great as after the first explosion, not only to the starboard but also aft from where the last explosion had evidently come. “That last explosion must have been the after-powder magazine. That was a corker of a shock. If they were goin’ to abandon ship before the last explosion they better speed u “ The heavy boom of a six-inch gun cut his sentence abruptly; then another followed quickly; and then another. He decided that the six-inch battery must have sighted the enemy, or, if not, that they were firing at will to signal their distress to another vessel. He concluded from the extreme list of the deck that it must be the port six-inch battery that was doing the firing. Then, as no one appeared to open the steel barrier that held him as the seconds flew into minutes, the peril of his own pre- dicament began to grip him. It had not occurred to him before. “Holy mackerel!’ he ejaculated, his face paling perceptibly. ‘‘Dinny ought to be pokin’ down this way and turn me out of this hell-hole if the ship is really in danger. If he wouldn’t T’d sure be in a rat trap.” His face grimaced sharply. “What if he forgot—in all the excite- ment?” é For a moment he pondered over this phase of the situation, and then, with a short mirthless laugh, forced it from his mind. “Of course, he wouldn’t forget,” he as- sured himself. ‘‘Why, the prisoners are naturally the first thing in the mind of a good master-at-arms at all times. natural to ’em.”’ He turned his head quickly and put an ear against the holes in the steel door as a gurgling, washing sound of rushing water It comes - 139 came distinctly from somewhere abaft the brig. His heart seemed to almost pause in the important job of beating, so intently did he listen to that ominous warning, his face turning another shade paler as the sound grew louder. “My !? he exclaimed. ‘There’s an ocean of water breakin’ through somewhere. Why don’t Dinny come?”’ Snappy’s eyes quickly sought the deck at his feet as a flood of water rushed through the narrow space between the bottom of the door and the deck.~He watched it in awe, helplessly waiting, until it began spurting through the first row of air holes, six inches from the deck, and then, cupping his hands before his mouth, shouted frantically again and again. But no one answered or came to his assistance; there was no sound but the rushing, churning sound of water. The water rose rapidly to the first foot mark and then to his knees, and still he shouted, now hoarsely and plaintively, and beat his knuckles frantically against the steel barrier that held him so securely. Then he lunged with all the desperate strength of his body, time after time throw- ing his shoulders savagely against the steel, padlocked door. In exhaustion he finally quit shouting and listened fearfully to the increasing rumbling of the waters and the echoes of his shouts which still hung in the air and played mockingly in his ears, sug- gesting that even sound waves could not escape those dread walls ‘but. traveled to and fro battering feebly against them— echoing and re-echoing. WITH the water already around his thighs Snappy was too good a sea- * man not to foresee the inevitable end, but, still hoping, he looked about the narrow cell for a catch hold to pull himself a little higher when the water should reach his chin. There was nothing of the kind to stay the unavoidable death for even a little longer, and with a final despairing effort he shouted again. This time he thought he heard an answer to his cry, and taking fresh courage he yelled again and kicked upon the door. He re- joiced—yes, he even felt his heart bound upward—as a sound of splashing could be heard distinctly just beyond the cell door and the form of a man came into view. “Just hold your canary birds a-little longer,’ the man shouted encouragingly. COMmicloooks (C@