Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

Q2 an’ git her shipshape fur a long pull. Due north by th’ dory compass oughter fetch us up somewheres on th’ Cape Sable shore. What d’ye say, Tommy, boy, shall we run for it?” “Ay! Go ahead!” growled the other. Westley noticed the change in his de-’ meanor, but put it down to the fact that he was frightened. “‘Cal’late he don’t like the idea o’ bein’ adrift,’ thought Westley. “Waal, I don’t blame him. Thar’s plenty good men scared when they know they’re astray. I ’mem- ber wunst pickin’ up a dory on Green Bank, iced up an’ with two men in it frozen as stiff as herrin’s. Th’ thought o’ gittin’ like them scares me too, but never say die!” And he set to work pitching out the fish. Swinging the dory off before wind and sea, they shipped their oars and pulled for the land some sixty or seventy miles away. IV the northwest by sundown and it blew hard and bitterly cold. The change in wind and the set of the tides kicked up a terrible sea, and both men realized that they could not run the dory much longer. “We'll lash that trawl anchor inside 0’ that trawl tub an’ pay it out to wind’ard with th’ buoy-line to it. It sh’d make a drogue that’ll keep us headin’ to it ontil things ease up.”” It was Collins who made the suggestion. Anderson nodded sullenly and made no attempt to assist his dory-mate. He was parched with thirst and eyed the dory-jar with a decidedly uneasy mind. Westley whistled calmly as he prepared the drogue. Not being gifted with much imagination, he did not worry about the future. Properly handled, the dory would live out the sea; there was enough water for a week in the dory-jar if used sparingly; they had some bread and doughnuts. The cold would be the worst peril. With the wind northwest, it would freeze the spray which drenched the frail dory, and they would have to pound the gun- wales and the dory interior clear of weighty, encumbering ice—ice which would swamp them if allowed to make. Well, pounding ice would keep them warm, so there was always a bright side to things. Westley THE wind commenced to veer to good,” said Westley. Adventure whistled cheerfully, while his dory-mate regarded him with a baleful light in his eyes, and strange suspicions crept into his dis- ordered mind. “Thar’ we go!” cried Collins happily, after heaving his improvised drag over. “She'll ride like a duck now, an’ we’ll lay to the oars in the mornin’. Sure to be lots o’ vessels around. We’ll see them to-morrow, for this wind’ll clear things up.” Looking at Anderson, he said with some concern, “You ain’t lookin’ bright, Tommy, boy. Better hev a little drink an’ a bite.” Anderson was about to refuse, when an idea entered his head. Yes! he’d make a bluff at drinking from the water-jar. If he were to decline, the chances were that Westley would decline also. ‘“‘Pass me the jug,” he said hoarsely. He tilted it up, placed the jar to his lips and allowed the water to wet them. Not a drop entered his mouth, though the temp- tation was terrible. What a queer smell the water had! “Here ye are, Westley,” he grunted thickly. ‘You hev a slug now. I’ve had mine.” Collins took the jar, and looked hard at him. “I don’t believe you took a drink at all,” he said. ‘You made a bluff at it!” “Aw, yee crazy!” growled Anderson, restraining his desire to smash the smiling Collins across the face for his suspicions. “What sh’d I make a bluff for? D/’ye think I’m a blasted camuel?”’ The other took a long, almost affection- ate look at his dory-mate, and raised the jar to his lips. ‘Waal, here’s happy days, Tommy, boy!’ And he took two great gulps while Anderson watched him almost fascinated. “Lord, Harry! But that water tastes “Better’n all th’ rum ever brewed.” He made a wry face. “‘Ain’t it bilgy an’ bitter-like, though?” It was getting dark now, and Anderson could hardly discern his shipmate’s face. He watched him intently. Something would happen soon. “T cal’late this wind’ll blow hard from th’ nor’west all night,” remarked Collins calmly. ‘She’s beginnin’ toice up already.” He took the bailer and knocked the film of ice off the dory gunwales beside him. Anderson cowered aft in the stern of the dory and waited developments. “God!”? he thought. ‘‘He sh’d feel that CoOMmicboooks CO