Adventure Magazine Cover — page 167: what you’re looking at

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

There and Back he was bending over the compass. ““*Them blamed binnacle lamps have gone out,’ says he. ‘Fetch a light, some one.’ “T. could see the compass well enough, but the mate takes out his pocket flash and switches it on the card so’s you could see the smallest markings. “‘Ain’t no one aboard this gol-darned boat got a light!’ yells Bill. ‘Just lke that he said it and with the compass card in front of him as clear as daylight. ‘Ain’t no one aboard this gol- darned boat got a light!’ says he.” Here Joe Leggard, aware that the climax a aa ae THERES of his story had been reached, paused and looked at the strained faces of his listeners. ‘“*’Cording to the way I figger it out,” he went on presently, “Bill Hogan meant to pile us up on the reef because of what he had against the skipper. He hated the skipper that much, he didn’t care nothing for his own life or anybody else’s, so long as he got quits. I can’t explain it no other- wise. But it was a mighty lucky thing that the flash of lightning which struck Bill Hogan stone blind put me wise to the danger just in time. “Tt was a close call,” he added. that, b’geel’”’ “It was MG raw io) 3ACK r5/* SOMDLE LET EK NOVELETTE Ph is ————t Author of “The Winning Chance,” “Vengeance,” etc.” LOUD and _ succulent ‘smack, caused by the sudden stoppage of a lustily thrown slipper by the beaverboard walls of his boudoir, disturbed the noisy slumbers of George Arlington Heming- wood, shavetail, only slightly. His mouth opened and closed feebly. A deep sigh, and he was again immersed in repose. “Come on, ‘Duke’! yelled Captain Ken- nard from his bedraom, across the sitting- room of the quarters. ‘The ham and eggs are ca-a-alling me!” he finished in an un- musical bellow. “Tt am always deaf in the morning,” yawned Hemingwood, coming to a sitting posture and blinking owlishly at the slipper which was Captain Kennard’s invariable messenger of wakefulness. aw, ~sT “The other slipper, aimed more carefully, follows anon, Duke.” “That’s the worst of sleeping in an ex- posed position,” grumbled Hemingwood as he climbed out of bed. ‘‘The lack of privacy around here is positively indecent.” “Oh I was drunk last night, drunk the night before. Gonna get drunk tonight if I never get drunk any more! When I’m drunk I’m happy as can be——’”’ The nerve-racking series of discords trailed into silence gradually, denoting the progress of the captain toward the shower- baths. Thither George Arlington Heming- wood—“‘of the Hemingwoods of Bahston, y know’’—followed him, his wiry form swathed in a huge bath-towel. “My eagle eye tells me that it’s foggy out DOOK C©@