Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 173: what you’re looking at

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

On the Account Bane came up and sent a keen eye to the set of the sails, to the even wake that streamed greenish-white, like marble, be- hindthem. Thesteering was perfect. The brigantine was at the limit of its speed. “Once clear of this,’’ he said to Denton, ‘“‘and we'll careen. If we were not foul we could hold her. As it is “Land ahead,’ came from the foremast where a man balanced himself in the top- mast crosstrees. Another shot came from the corvette. ‘“‘Try her with the stern-chaser,” ordered Bane. “The water should begin to shallow soon. We'll lead her on since we can not shake her off.” The missile fell short. A third shot from the king’s ship, fired at extreme elevation, dropped within two hundred yards, fair in the tail of the wake. “Zounds!”’ cried Bane, frowning. ‘“They have good marksmen aboard. It’s touch and go. If she can once cripple us she can hold off and hammer us with those cursed guns of hers. Try her again, gunner.” He looked doubtfully at Todd as the can- non roared out defiance. ‘““How close are we heading for that en- trance of yours?” he asked. “T can not tell yet. The course should bring us fairly close. There are few land- marks on this lowland and we must raise the palms before I dare shift.” ‘“‘We can not risk a tack,’ muttered Bane. ‘‘Make no mistake, if you set any value on your life. Does the lookout know your bearings?”’ ‘‘Aye. There are three palms, as I told ye. One each side of the channel with their branches bowed toward each other. The Kissing Palms, I named them. Another on the islet. We take the channel with the two in line at first. Then let them open -and, when the islet palm shows even be- tween the two, we make the final fairway.” He stood confident, his lean brown hands deftly handling the wheel, his steering hung between three spokes, easing a little to the pusts that threatened a swiftly coming gale, is feet firm to the deck as the vessel heeled, apparently unconscious of Scarry-Dick’s menacing attitude. Bane strode forward. The corvette was yawing a trifle to use her bow guns. The pyramids of water from her shot came ever closer to the counter of the brigantine. At the pirate’s command a man crept bare- 171 footed, out over the jib-boom to the flying jib-boom spar, locked his legs in the stirrup- ropes and cast his lead. Bane watched the colored rags of the marks as the line cut the water and was swept back into the hissing rush from the cutwater, listening to the drone of the leadsman. ‘“‘Eight—by the mark—eight! Seven and —a half—a quarter! Seven! She shoals! Seven itis! Seven! By the mark six anda half. It holds!” The lookout shouted. Bane went aft to where he could catch the back-swept sylla- bles. Palms were in sight. He took his telescope back to the bows. Presently spidery lines, tufted at the top, came into the field above a havoc of white surf-line. The brigantine fell off a little. Tom the Turtler had judged his course to a nicety. They were above the passage. There was no tack necessary. “Six fathom,”’ called the leadsman. The seas were choppy. The brigantine, curbed by the exquisite humoring of the rudder by the steersman, fought with wind and wave to gain its head. A shot tore through the fore topsail, barely missing the boom, and dropped ahead. The Venture replied, almost in range. The wind in- creased and the masts bent like whips. Bane snapped to his spy-glass. He had seen the bowed fronds of the Kissing. Palms. If their pilot was true they would beat the corvette. Her captain could not risk his ship much longer in the shoaling sea. THERE was a thudding crash. A shot had struck fair, just below the taffrail. The next tore through the planking of the deck within five feet of the wheel. Todd paid no attention toit. Den- ton’s pistol was within an inch of his skull as he set his strength to the stubborn spokes. Ahead they could catch the roar of the breakers. There seemed no break in the leaping tumult that hid. the low shore, above which the palm tops barely showed. They were in five fathoms now, only twice the draft of the brigantine. The corvette had come up into the wind, firing a full broadside as she hung in stays. They had given up the chase. The king’s ship was deeper-keeled. Eighteen feet was her limit. The balls hurtled over the Venture. Ropes were clipped, the topmast on the main faltered and broke, the topsail hanging - CoOmiclsoo (©