Adventure Magazine Cover — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

—~—— ‘ 18 himself of Swanson. As it was the captain said briefly and with decision— ‘““No passengers.” That was not pleasing to me. Sam Tyler began to talk. He rambled on: said he used to be a sailor and was tired of dust and noise. Why, it wouldn’t take two cents for him to throw his apron off and go to sea again! The captain asked a few questions, a few quick nautical ques- tions—but I did not listen further. Behind my back I was hearing Swanson whisper: “You come out between three an’ four. T’ll have somebody on the lookout an’ stow you away. An’ after we get two days out ——” The mate gave the captain a look that indicated the events two days later would be highly disadvantageous to the captain. “T’ll be there,”’ said Thompson. He left. The captain was saying to Sam: “If you want to go as a boy all right. If you are A. B. somuch the better. I'll give you the rate soon as you make it.” They left, and left me talking with the proprietor, who grumbled and roared and drank something stronger than tea, because he had been awakened from sleep to come down and fill the place of the bartender who had gone a-rambling. In saying good-by to Sam I managed to tell him that he would probably see me later, but for him to keep his eyes and ears open and his mouth shut. I talked with the proprietor. I let him think that I was going across to Oakland and from there in an auto toward Los Angeles. I dropped this information calcu- latingly, as if with no intention of letting him divine what I had in mind. Then I went to the pier from which I heard Thompson say he would leave at three o’clock. I waited some time. A figure moved into the shadows, detached itself presently from the gloom, and Thompson looked into the muzzle of a gun, gasped and raised his hands with that suddenness which shows good judgment on the part of a victim. Then I backed him into the shadows for a little talk. Captain Whibley, I told him, was perhaps “not such a fool as he appeared; and since Captain Whibley did not care to have him on the Jessie Darling it would perhaps be Adventure — well to explain to me—to convince me why I should disobey the captain’s wish in the matter and let him get on board. I don’t know why it is that men, always when in a position similar to that in which Thompson found himself, say the first thing— ‘Who are you?”’ I explained—briefly—that J had net taken the trouble of meeting him to give information, but to get it. “That me the double-cross!”’ “Don’t be so quick to suspect Swanson,” I told him. ‘‘You both made the mistake of not taking Captain Whibley into your confidence.” 7 To make a short interview still shorter I may say I found out the day of mutiny and piracy and treasure-trove searching was not entirely vanished from the sea Thompson knew, or said he did—had maps anyway—where there was a pirate cache on one of the Ladrones. His idea was with the connivance of mates and crew to take the Jesste Darling and find the loot a hundred or so years old. Hunting for gold on a desert island never appealed to me as an enticing pastime. I have gone on a treasure hunt or two, but I didn’t intend to go on the Jessie Darling. It was one thing to be dodging the San Francisco police for a justifiable homicide: it was quite another to be dodging the maritime police of all nations for mutiny and piracy. There was no doubt about the proposed mutiny succeeding; two mates, and six of the ten members of the short-handed crew were already acquainted with the plot. I perhaps could have won the gratitude of Captain Whibley by acquainting him with the facts; but conspiring seamen are good liars, and I had nothing to prove my tale but a few pocket-worn charts which I removed from Thompson. Besides, atten- tion would be attracted to my own identity before the Jessie Darling cleared the bay. Once the police had their hands on me I would be in for a trial. From the lofty heights of his bossdom, Thrope would put on the pressure and if I escaped with a life sentence I would be lucky. Spike Delaney could do much. I did not know how much. I did not know how much he would even be willing to try to do, for his business was Swanson’s give _so intertwined with the police graft and so (E(0) Gomicbooks