Adventure Magazine Cover, December 10, 1922 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

Minerva’s Treasure precipice, and there were the markings where they had worked the oyster beds. Dockery tossed over the anchor and looked at the bottom. After all, there was no _ great rush. He had said a week; why not take a week? It looked pretty certain he would never see much of the water after this trip. Undoubtedly this would be his last dive, and for what a treasure! Why hurry it? Dockery threw off his clothes and climbed out aft to lie in the sun. This was living! Dockery dozed a while, then went below and prepared himself a meal, then dozed again. The next day the fine weather con- tinued, ani he napped and smoked and ate. Same the next, and the day following. The morning of the fifth day Dockery studied the bottom. It was beautifully clear. He could see the little silvery fish. Dockery laughed aloud. They ought to recognize him, he thought. He breathed in the clean, fresh air in great lungfuls. He was going to prepare for this dive. He had kept out of the water for four days just to save up the fun, andhe couldn’t have awaited a better day. There was hardly a ripple. Dockery’s two strong, brown hands gripped the rail, and his feet very slowly left the deck. Easily he raised them up and held a handstand for a moment, as he had on his first dive, long ago, then slowly shifted his weight farther and farther for- ward and finally slid into the depths—like water poured into water. Down he slipped, spiraling and turning over and over, for the sheer joy of feeling the water around him. It was glorious. At length he reached bottom, and there was his anchor, caught hold right at the mouth of the cave. The cave! A fleeting though of Minot and Skull came to him, but left no ill effects. They had tried to throw the hooks into him and they got no more than they deserved. With a quick scissors kick he surged for- ward into the dark opening and, placing his hand carefully on the coral, felt"along the ledge. There it was, just where he had left it, the leather soft and slippery from its Jong stay in the water. But no bodies. Well, something had come along and taken them, perhaps. He turned and started out. He would go up and count these beauties again. He spread his feet for the kick that would send him out into the sunlit waters—and sud- 7 a 7 a 95 denly something struck his right ankle a sluggish blow. It felt numb and cold; he must have hit it violently against the coral. He started to move, but the right foot wouldn’t come. Then again, quite as suddenly, something else struck him in back of his right knee. He whirled—and saw two long black arms, thin.and cold, but powerfully strong. Like a flash he realized, and like a flash his right hand flew to his hip. His lip even curled a little as he did so. But the hand came back empty. Just then, for the first time in his life, Dockery experienced a peculiar weakening sensation, a little empty feeling in his stomach and a quick, convulsive throb on the left side of his body. And just then, also, he felt that blow again, this time on his left wrist. Dockery turned animal. He grabbed that terrible thing that held his wrist and twisted with all his strength, but it stayed there. Quickly he brought his teeth to- gether upon it, but it was like biting heavy rubber. Then another blow struck him, on the left calf. He reached backward with his right arm, his only free member, and caught a grip on the edge of the coral outside the cave. He pulled with all his powerful strength, and slowly, terribly slowly, drag- ged himself out, dragged himself and the long arms that held him. Retaining his grasp with his right hand, he exerted all his energy and brought the left hand to the anchor line and gripped. Then John Dockery started the battle for his life. His charmed life. Hand over hand he worked, the muscles in his arms and his neck tendons strained to bursting. Another black arm whipped out of the cave | and stopped on his throat. He was half-way to the surface. Suddenly and instinctively, his lungs crying for air, he gasped. A fierce stinging started in his chest. Calling his last strength, he moved up one more notch, He felt very, very weak. Again he tried to move his arms upward, but this time they wouldn’t go. He was just holding his own. The black arms seemed to be hauling harder and harder. He couldn’t hold on— it was so heavy, and he was so weak. He gasped again, and this time drew in a volume of water. His head swam. His left hand let go, and after a little, his right. (E(0) 5 id Gomicbooks