Adventure Magazine Cover — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

Flatfoot Strategy got? An adm’al ought to have betteh sense ’n that.” “No man’s got sense when he’s got hot coppers!” Snoots asserted flatly. We were still discussing that message five minutes later when the captain’s or- derly, a marine, came out on the _bridge- wing and handed me the reply. It said: Thirty-nine. Seven new ones this morning. After reading it aloud I handed it to Scotty to semaphore to the flag-ship. “Seven new ones, eh?” grinned Snoots. “The old man must be makin’ it back there in his cabin.” “He cain’t teach me anything about makin’ cawn hoo-whisky,” declared Dixie. “Down in Kentucky we make that stuff, what I mean.” “My father had twenty-six years in a brewery,”? stated Hienie Schmidt. “We always had home-made beer in our house.” Frenchy Pardue’s black eyes shot fire. “When you want real wine you have to come to us frogs!”’ he spat forth. Not to be left out in the cold was Scotty, up on the rail sending the message. ‘“‘What’s the best whisky made?” he growled down at us. “Scotch, I'll say!” Then Snoots, boss of the watch, silenced them all. “Vuh’se can all gas off about makin’ it, an’ all that. But Pll drink the whole gang o’ yuh’se under, any day.” Snoots then turned to me. “Say, Breeze, will yuh stand by fer me till I go down to the sick-bay? I gota little belly-ache.”’ “Sure,” I said—in five minutes. Wait till I go down to the radio office. T’ll be right back. I want to see what that two- one-two-O-six radio was.” But I got no enlightenment in the radio- office. Jack Harris, the operator on watch, found and handed me the message 21206*, sent the night before to the flag-ship. But it was In code and told me nothing. Iasked Harris for the code book. : “‘That’s the secret code,” he said. ‘*The captain keeps that book locked in his safe.”’ So I returned to the bridge none the wiser. Scotty was in the act of hoisting the answer- ing pennant. Snoots had his glass leveled on the flag-ship about to receive, and Dixie *The time and reference number. Thus: (21—Twenty- first hour after midnight) (2—Twenty minutes after the pons) Se day of the month) 21206=—9:20 P. M., e sixth. 77 was at his elbow, pencil and pad in readiness “All right, Snoots,” I said; “T’ll get it. Go ahead down to the sick-bay.”’ Snoots went below. The man on the flag-ship bridge then sent: Proceed to Guantanamo Bay. Detailed instruc- tions by radio later. The flag-ship then signaled the rest of the ships to disregard our ship’s movements. We changed our course a few degrees to the southward, and gradually veered away from the column. “Theah goes ou’ fu’lough,” lamented Dixie, a little later. “Reckon we'll coal at Guantanamo; then go to Mexico, aw China, aw the No’th Pole, aw some place. Dawg- awn.” Snootful, Dixie and I had planned a fur- lough upon the ship’s arrival at Norfolk. We had six hundred dollars stowed in my ditty-box. Snoots was taking a long time to go to the sick-bay, I thought. “Say, Dixie,” I said, after an hour passed, “see if you can dig that bird up, will you? I suppose he’s found a crap-game somewhere, and forgets he’s on watch.” Dixie didn’t come back. I didn’t i .§ get off the bridge till noon, when Pete Miller, the quartermaster, with the afternoon watch relieved me. “There they are,” I said to Pete, handing him the glass and pointing at the column of battle-ships, now three miles off to star- board and gradually easing away. ‘‘We’re heading for Guantanamo Bay. I don’t know what for. See Snoots?” “No. I thought he had the watch. Say, there’s queer doings on this packet. I hear they’ve got a gang locked up down in the carpenter-shop. Lot of talk about mutiny going around.” - “Mutiny!” The idea hit me funny. “On a battle-ship?”’ “‘That’s the talk. Oh, I suppose some fifteen or twenty of the black-gang got hold of some booze. Probably got drunk and hard-boiled. Wasn’t room for ’em in the brig, so they put ’em in the carpenter-shop I don’t know anything about it. Nobody does.” I was too hungry to stand there chatter- ing over nothing. I went below to the eats. The mess-cook informed me that neither DIXIE didn’t bring Snoots back. COmiclboolks CO