Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

44 “Davies, had reached the point where that capable commander’s authority must needs be backed by actions to last longer. These were the orators of the different groups; their insistent, oath-bespattered urging ever pointed to the simple operation of ‘seizing the ship, casting adrift Davies and the big black Goliath if they survived the seizing, and keeping rendezvous with Cook and swan. ‘“Ain’t no proof as we’ve seen that this Davies knows so plaguy much,” Bristol Jack was asserting. He ever kept a wary eye upon the oc- cupants of the high poop, for he still re- membered seeing Kestral plucked from among his mates by one long arm reaching down from there. His trouble, and that of the men so ready to listen to him, was that they could not accept proof whi ch fell short of striking them personally. “Looks t’ me like this Schoolmaster chap only keered about gettin’ hisself a fine ship wi’ the help o’ John Cook’s good men, then desarted th’ fleet like a rat. We knows John Cook, lads. We knows he’s a man 0’ “cuts, and he’ll chance the gallus to bring us forchune.”’ “Right you be, Jack me lad!”’ growled his nearest auditor. ‘He’ll charnce the blessed gallus, all right, for us! Ed Davies says, foller him an’ there won’t be no gallus, and a forchune jest the same. How about that?” “Bristol’s thinkin’ more about hisself and how he’s to get his hooks on to Mistress Nell than about us nor John Cook neither,” exclaimed a broken-faced ruffian, thrusting forward his gaudily kerchiefed head and shaking a gnarled finger in Bristol Jack’s angry face. “The dog lies!” roared Jack, leaping to his feet and scattering his mates like skittles. Some sprang up and backed him; others— they were about equally divided—ranged beside his challenger, and steel glinted in the hot sunlight. In the gleefully angry group side-quarrels bred, and before the chief actors crossed their long knives .in earnest, blood flowed freely from smashed noses and split lips of a round half-dozen sympathizers. “ll have yer heart broiled for supper, ve bleedin’ whelp,”’ swore Bristol Jack, and his «steel licked forward and still further marred the broken face of his foe. “Ve'll lack tripes to stow it in then,” was the fierce retort, and the cut was repaid Adventure with interest in a vicious upward lunge that all but disemboweled Bristol. Both being bled so swiftly and deeply gave them caution. They settled down to a wary circling and dodging, silent now, grim and murderous. On the poop Davies keenly watched the forward developments without seeming to do so. Nell Clark and Steve Carr, lounging at the mizzen rigging, exchanging rough and hearty cross-talk as any two pirates might, paused in their banter and glanced at the fight, then turned to see if Davies had seen it. If he had he took no apparent notice. He strode back and forth along the weather side from wheel to ladder, hands thrust through his broad belt, his handsome face bright with well-being and easy mind. The ear-ringed, greasy-curled mariner at the helm heard the noise forward without being able to see the source, and his swarthy face was puckered in feverish eagerness as he snatched a questioning look at Davies. ‘What, lad, art licking yer chops at smell o’ fight?” smiled Davies, suddenly halting beside the helmsman and reading his mind, to that bold seaman’s tremendous amaze- ment. His broken-fanged mouth gaped as he tried to speak, and Davies clapped him heartily on the back. “Get thee along then,” hold the helm awhile. will do the dogs good.” “T’ll holla for a hand o’ the watch,” re- torted Carr, himself anxious to see the rapidly developing combat. “Take the helm!” There was no arguing against that tone. Steve grumblingly gripped the spokes, call- ing to Nell to tell him how the fight went. “Bristol Jack’s too long o’ the arm,” she told him indifferently. ‘Is the dog getting th’ upper hand then?” Davies, standing at the ladder beside the swiveled falcon that pointed its muzzle along the deck on that side, suddenly found interest in the scene. Bristol Jack’s ad- versary had stumbled to his knees, blood pouring from his neck, and barely recovered he said. “Carr, A little blood-letting in time to avoid the finishing down stroke. es “BY SATAN, TH see it!’ : yelled Steve Carr, leaving the helm and * running forward. “Ve. give. <a fo’mast jack liberty to see, and keep me, yer nate" Go NOOK = a (C@