Adventure Magazine Cover — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

72 On its fever-laden, miasmatic breath came hordes of mosquitoes which made cabins of vessels in the harbor their favorite ren-- dezvous. Screens on port-holes and doors were almost useless; in some mysterious manner the pests found entrance and tor- mented the lives of the occupants. Of social life in Las Floras there was none, save of the lowest order. Last of all—and worst—of this unpleasant picture of exist- ence was the humidity—dank, stifling, un- bearable. It was killing to men accus- tomed to temperate climes. For half of the six months of the charter period Johnson refused to follow the course taken by his shipmates. At last he weak- ened—almost any man would, under the conditions—and took to drink. He wel- comed the relief it gave from his periods of morbid brooding as well as forgetfulness of the enervating climate. Meanwhile he cherished the delusion that upon arriving back in San Francisco he would swear off. But from this time on his descent was me- thodical and rapid. | THREE years later found him a common drunken bum of a seaman. Only once in the interval had he fone a berth as officer, and liquor had cost him this job. Straightening up for a brief riod at the end of his license revocation, e passed the examination and received a new license. With this in his possession he called upon Madison, his former employer, seeking a berth. “‘Get out of my office, you drunken fish, es said Madison. “I wouldn’ t trust you in command of a mud-scow.” Word of this turn-down got around. Ship-owners who might still have been swayed to trust his skill as a navigator would have none of him on account of his drunkenness. He was unable to find a berth in any capacity above that of able- bodied seaman. This hurt; therefore more liquor to take the bitter taste from life as he found it. His once erect figure grew stooped from hard labor; his eyes were dull with a light of hope- lessness; his hair rapidly turned gray from the anguish within his heart at what he con- sidered the unjustness of the world. He brooded long and often as he mentally re-lived the desperate moments in which he had striven with every resource at his com- Adventure mand to prevent the Westland from going on the rocks. to the puzzle of why a steamer should dis- regard her helm and go to destruction as a bit of steel is drawn to a powerful magnet. Four years passed, four years of signing as A. B. on coastwise voyages —the shorter the better—with but one thought in mind; to make money with which to purchase whisky. Prohibition came into force, but its only effect in San Francisco was to raise the price of whisky and make it harder to obtain. It was still plentiful when, one December after a round trip to Gray’s Harbor, John- son was paid off in San Francisco. He managed to make his money last through a week’s carouse. The eighth day after being paid off found him penniless, sober, bitter in heart and mind, and ready to sign on for another voyage—anywhere. And at this time Captain Johan Lind- strom, walking along the Embarcadero, ran across his former commander. “Hello, Johnson, old man!”’ was Lind- strom’s hearty greeting. ‘‘What’s on your mind?” Johnson, sullenly lowering his head to hide his face, sought escape. Lindstrom caught his arm in a firm grasp. “None of that, Midnight. This is the first time in seven years I’ve seen you. You haven’t a chance of getting away. I’ve heard a lot about your fool trick of letting yourself go on the reefs. Come along with me now. You need a friend, and I’m elected. No, don’t try to argue. I’m in luck at finding you, and you’re coming with me.”’ Perforce Johnson accompanied the man he had at one time discharged for talking. to a newspaper reporter. The session ended with Johnson signing as seaman on the Charlotte, a new four-thousand-ton, seven- teen-knot coast liner, which had just been placed in commission between San Fran- cisco and Seattle. Lindstrom_was in com- mand. It was his intention to straighten Johnson out by keeping him under his eye, and later taking him on as an officer. Lindstrom better than any man knew Midnight John- son’s capabilities, and still had faith in him. The Charlotte was now the crack liner of the Madison Navigation Company. And on this particular voyage Madison had re- served passage for himself and his family, CoOnmmiclboooks And he never found a solution : C@