Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

The Professor’s Bomb never stop this side o’ the Injun ocean ef ye don’t.”’ “T been resarvin’ it for jest sech a ’mer- gency as this, Mr. Deedham,”’ bawled the captain, holding up the new bomb for all hands to see as he slipped it into the gun. “Now watch out!’ Eleven pairs of eyes were strained on him as he lifted the shining brass bomb-gun to his shoulder. The whale milled a little, rolling up a side like the mid-ship section of a battleship, and the gun roared. As the recoil staggered the captain back against the supporting hand of the bow- oarsman and while the acrid powder smoke was still rasping their nostrils the men saw the bull arch his back into a great bow and then spring his one-hundred-ton body over in a complete summersault, parting the mate’s line and jerking the captain’s boat along like a stone skipping over the water. The whale then spouted a column of thick blood, made but a half-circle of his flurry and, with a stifled groan, rolled up, fin out. “What d’yer think o’ that bomb now, Mr. Deedham?” crowed the captain. ‘“Wasn’t wuth a ——, eh? Now, altogether boys; three cheers for Perfesser Enderby. Give her hearty, boys.” With but one exception the whalemen responded so lustily that the whale-birds wheeled and screamed in affright. The exception was Mr. Deedham, who stood in the bow of his boat, a puzzled frown on his face, contemplating the dead whale. “WHEN we was a-cheerin’ Per- fesser Enderby that time, the poor cuss was in jail,” the captain in- formed Mr. Deedham as they were eating their supper in the cabin on the night of the ship’s arrival in St. Helena. “‘Set-fire, ye don’t say!” the mate arched his brows in surprize and signaled Smuts for more coffee. “Yes, an’ it’s the queerest thing I ever hearn tell on,’ the captain reflected. “I got a letter from the owners inqui’in’ did I buy any bombs of the feller for they was worthless bein’ as they was full o’ nothin’ but sawdust an’ iron-filin’s. Accordin’ to the letter Enderby ain’t no perfesser ’tall but a machinist that’d been fired by the cartridge comp’ny what makes our bombs. They say as how he stole a lot o’ bomb- cases an’ after fillin’ ’em to suit hisself sold ‘em round New London an’ New Bedford. 85 They’ve got him in jail now for stealin’ an’ obtainin’ money under false pritences.” The captain paused and jabbed a slice of meat viciously with his fork. “But, by godfrey, Mr. Deedham,” he blurted out, “I think that there cartridge comp’ny has jest put the poor ——— in irons like so’s they can get his invention away from him. One thing’s sure his bomb was loaded with the right stuff. Ye seen what it did to that whale, didn’t ye?” “‘Set-fire! I seen one o’ our bombs do the same thing when it bust in the right place, cap’n:”’ “T ain’t a-going’ to argufy with ye "bout that part o’ it. But there’s one fact ye can’t get back of, Mr. Deedham, any more’n ye can get back o’ yer neck, it was the pees bomb that killed that there whale an’, to my notion, in cons’quence, he the same as give us *bout six thousan’ dol- lars. See?” Ch-ch-ch-chkkk! The explosion came from the pantry and the captain and mate twisting in their chairs beheld Smuts grinning so widely that the top of his head resembled an island, his white teeth flashing like foam on the reef. : “What the the matter with ye, Smuts?” inquired the captain severely. “What d’yer mean bustin’ out a-laughin’ right afore us. Explain yerself.” ‘“*?*Scuse me, cap’n, sah,” rejoined Smuts, composing his features by a great effort. “T humbly begs you’ parding, sah. But that yah perfesser man don’t done give yah nuffin. *Twas a bluebottle fly done get yah that whale, sah.” ‘‘A-a bluebottle—. What d’yer mean by sech nonsense, Smuts?” roared Captain Mallett. “Yes sah, that’s the exuberatin’ fact, sah. When I done went in the paint-locker to paint the bomb as you incinerated me to do sah, a bluebottle kept a-buzzin’ very pestirofus about my face, sah. An’ I makes a most discommoding swipe at it, sah, an’ the bomb done fly right outer my hand throw’ the door an’ annihilates itself overboard, sah. I was so combusticated I was skeered to tell you, sah, so I done get one of our bombs out the store-room an’ paints it an’ puts it in your drawer, sah. So, -yah see, sah, ’twas that fly really done give yah that whale,sah. Just a busy little come-a-visiting bluebottle, sah.” | CORnIICLOO© C KS (C@ im