Adventure Magazine Cover — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

Shanghai Fried Chicken : Joe, he ees no gooda fire man likame, Pedro.” ‘Lika ——, , you lie!” blazed out Joe. “T showa you.” @ By the time eight bells sounded the fight had been quelled, and they had decided with Deck’s help, the only sure way to prove which of them was the better fireman was to see which one could get up the higher pressure in his boiler. The boozy Finn water-tender was appointed to watch the two gages and be the judge. Moreover, Deck promised to be there when they came off watch in the morning. Wrangling fiercely, Joe and Pedro de- scended to the fire-room, followed by the. Finn who, out of respect for his new judicial capacity, acted ridiculously sedate. At the foot of the ladder, after they had left the ship, Deck and the Bos’ whispered together. “Tt’s all been too —— easy,” said Deck uncomfortably. ‘I don’t like that. Say, suppose, after all the trouble we gone to, them Spics come to their senses before the boilers burn out, or the second ketches ’em; or that fool Finn turns on more water. We can’t go down there an’ watch "em though.” “Come, come, Deck, ye’re actin’ like a superstitious kid. There ain’t nothin’ to worry about, Deck me bye, we ain’t ate thot fried chicken fur no reason, Oi’m tellin’ ye thot. Come along now, maybe we kin get a flop at Chinee Tom’ s, this here fog’s gettin’ too wet fur me.’ THE sun had burned away the en- ~. shrouding -mist, and when shortly after eight o’clock, the deck engi- neer and the bosun trudged down the dock, they were sighted and hailed by the seamen of the watch-below gathered for a smoke on the Faralon’s fo’c’s’le-head. “How soon yu gonna cast off,” called Deck. The reply came instantly in a vociferous medley of dialects that were utterly mean- ingless. Without waiting to hear more, the two Irishmen rushed for the ladder, and scrambling up, hustled forward to learn the details. “Them two drunk Spics sure fixed us pretty.” _ “Der boilers dey iss bote gone.” em — Shpaniards———" “_—_blowed hoft an’ burned hout, at’s wot.” “*E old man’s sore as a pup.” “Un dee secon’ imyineer vuss yoost 95 coomin’ rroun’ fen dee bote saftey walves ” oes “Steam hall hover the plice, an’ the chief shootin’ hoff his fice somethin’ awful.” “_gonna kill ’em drunk Y tose an’ ‘at lousy Finn, he says.” “—getta! it feex?. I noa tink not for a longa time.” “Vee got to lay up here now; vell, fot de ——? More dayss more dollarss.” From this babel, Deck and the Bos’ gathered the heart-warming knowledge that their prison-pondered plan had succeeded. Suppressing their triumph behind the most se- rious faces they marched up the bridg ladder to the captain’s cabin and knocked softly. At a snapped, “‘Coom in,” the two entered. The little skipper sat in his chair facing them, red in the face, his mustache working ~ furiously up and down as he chewed his Copenhagen snuff, the open can of which lay on the desk. Beside it were two piles of United States bills each weighted with a small heap of,change. Disdaining to speak, the captain picked them up and thrust one at the Bos’ and one at the deck engineer. Not until they had counted their pay, deliberately and with care, under his irritated scrutiny was a word spoken. It came, in tones of too-perfect politeness, from Deck who could restrain his tongue no longer. “Thank you, captain, we appreciate wot you done, fer us. Now if you were only stayin’ in Shanghai a little longer me an’ the Bos’ here would like you to come ashore an’ have a real fried-chicken dinner on us. But I suppose youn soon be goin’.” IOOK (E@)