Adventure Magazine Cover — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

130 of gray flag-stone, peering at the dirty window, whipping his tired heart to take the burden that he knew must be taken now, courageously taken, as it had been five times in the last five years. Each time it was harder, more cruel, more deadening to mind and body. His lips came together in a thin straight line. “What am I waiting for?” he muttered. — “Tt has to come.” closed behind him. A few of the men in the dingy room looked up as Mallow came in, then turned away without interest. Apparently deep in news- papers, they sprawled on spindly benches that lay about in all directions. From time to time they glanced at a battered door that gave through a thin partition into the inner office of Lindstrom & Reinesten’s shipping agency. They heard a low-pitched conclusion of a long telephone conversation and then the rasping scrape of a chair pushed back. The door swung open, and the genial Reinesten smiled from the door- way. “The Hyacinth is in. She wants two firemen, a water-tender, three oilers, six seamen, a boatswain » “Good , Reiny,” said a grinning sailor, “tell us what she don’t want. She must be a real nice wagon!”’ “Well,” said Reinesten, “‘the captain is staying with her. Honest, boys, she’s not so bad. Bound to Buenos Aires. Come now, sing out, who wants her?” He looked first at the younger sailors and firemen. They were again at their news- papers, confident in their youth, sure of a better ship; then the shipping agent smiled in grim understanding as four old men came slowly forward. “That’s the way,” he said mechanically, “it takes the old-timers to know a good thing when they see it. The young- sters ” he broke off in disgust. The boys in the room hooted derisively. The four old men filed soberly into the inner office. Hastily the names and ratings were given and the last to write his name as ordinary seaman, signed ‘John Mallow” and gave his age as forty-seven. Lind- strom, a hard man in a hard trade, looked sharply at him. “You're past seventy,’ he growled. “Why don’t you go to a home? The fo’csle is no place for you. I don’t care to send you to the ship.” The green door swung Adventure Mallow’s eyes darkened. . ei Yn with your home “T’m shipping to sea!” !? he cried. “Keep cool, keep cool,’”’ said Lindstrom. . He glanced doubtfully at his partner. Reinesten nodded. “All right,” said. Lindstrom, “go to it, good luck.” When the partners were alone Reinesten. said— “Tt’s O. K., Lars, you never owed the Hyacinth anything.”’ The telephone interrupted him. He talked for a few mmutes, then pushed open the door. The men on the benches looked up. “The City of Galveston is docking. A good berth. She wants a fireman, two seamen. Come now, speak up, who wants her?” THE Hyacinth was well off. the mati Carolinas far out to sea on her SSS southerly course before Mallow fought clear of the deep depression, the sense of bewilderment that always over- whelmed him on these forced runs to sea. Every hour in the day, every task, every meal, carried its own vicious bit of humilia- tion. Then at night as he lay in his bunk, the aching weariness of his body came to add its toll, for the routine work which was com- paratively easy for younger sailors, left the old adventurer strained to his limit. The officers were never brutal, in fact they were considerate, but the watches had to be stood and the ship’s work done. “Why did you ship ordinary?” asked the third mate one night as Mallow came pant- ing up on the bridge with the reading of the patent log. “You are an old-timer. Any one can see it by the way you.do your work. Why don’t you take out an A. B.’s ticket? You are a smarter seaman than the crew we have.” ‘‘“Able seamen have to climb, sir, I am too stiff for that.” “Hum,” said the friendly third, “it’s a bad piece of business, I mean for a man of your age going to sea at all. How old are you?” he asked abruptly. The Wrecker’s eyes narrowed and his lips set grimly, then in the dim light of the star-strewn sky he stared at the clear young face of the third officer and written on it for a sailor to read, was the gift of friend- liness, not curiosity, not condescension, just friendliness. Gomichbook CO