Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

Our Camp-Fire came into being May 5, 1912, with our June issue, and since then its fire has never died down. Many have gathered about it and they are of all classes and degrees, high and low, rich and poor, adventurers and stay-at-homes, and from all parts of the earth. Some whose voices we used to know have taken the Long Trail and are heard no more, but they are still memories among us, and new voices are heard, and welcomed. We are drawn together by a common liking for the strong, clean things of out-of- doors, for word from the earth’s far places, for man in action instead of caged by cir- cumstance. The spirit of adventure lives in all men; the rest is chance. But something besides a common interest holds us together. Somehow a real com- radeship has grown up among us. Men can not thus meet and talk together without growing into friendlier relations; many a time does one of us come to the rest for facts and guidance; many a close personal friendship has our Camp-Fire built up between Sep vg == had never met; often has it proved an open sesame between strangers n a far land. Perhaps our Camp-Fire is even a little more. Perhaps it is a bit of leaven working gently among those of different station toward the fuller and more human understand- ing and sympathy that will some day bring to man the real democracy and brotherhood he seeks. Few indeed are the agencies that bring together on a friendly footing so many and such great extremes as here. And we are numbered by the hundred thousand now. If you are come to our Camp-Fire for the first time and find you like the things we like, join us and find yourself very welcome. There is no obligation except ordinary manliness, no forms or ceremonies, no dues, no officers, no anything except men and women gathered for interest and friendliness. Your desire to join makes you a member. HICH of you were torpedoed? A the sea—even more those who followed it in word from Lloyd A. Kohler concern- ing his story in this issue: Junction City, Kansas. I have used a new group of gobs this time—the crew of a cruiser, which I have named the Wichita. Of course, I don’t even claim to be a master of de- scription, but I have tried to make the sinking— torpedoing—of the Wichita a true picture, for I have not the slightest doubt that among your readers are many of the crews of some of the ships which went to the bottom during the late war with Ger- many—the crews of the San Diego, Jacob Jones, Cassin, Antilles, Petrolite and many others. If there are, and the story is published, you may be sure I’d like to hear a peep from them.—Ltoyp A. KOHLER. LLOWING Camp-Fire custom, B. M. - Adams, or Bill Adams as he wants us to call him, rises and introduces himself on the occasion of his first story in our maga- zine. As in the case of a good many others of our writers’ brigade, it is also his first story in any magazine, but there are more to come. Thase of you who have followed 12 days gone by—are, I think, going to feel the sea when you read Bill Adams’ stories. I don’t often venture any comment when a new member of our writers’ brigade in- troduces himself, but I want to say that I like and honor a man who states his creed simply and manfully. The weak-kneed fear of ridicule has done more than most other things to squelch the good that is in all of us and keep it from coming forth into the world boldly and unashamed. The world needs it. Lindsay, California. The Camp-Fire Gang, Dear Friends: Life is apt to be a queer jig— and at times a man’s feet get a trifle weary. One sometimes falls to wondering what it’s all about anyway. Isn’t that so? You ask me to tell you something of myself? What is there to tell? Here goes. May it not spoil your appetite or ruin your beauty sleep. - Was brought up by an old maiden lady who had me lined up for the ministry. My par- ents were gone—or practically so. For my father 177 GO 0)()©) (C@)