Adventure Magazine Cover — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

40 averted faces. You know the kind. Jem and Michael saw, and heard. They became red, then white. Pride, you see, and con- ceit. Laughter is a wicked weapon. In that moment their hearts were black; two good men were set for murder. “Well, to go on, they both reached for the thing at the same time. They were both unsteady on their feet. Michael bumped Jem with his shoulder, and Jem sprawled on top of the diamond. Michael promptly kicked him off and reached for it himself. Jem smashed Michael on the nose with his fist, and Michael knocked Jem over a table. Then they flew at one another like madmen. ‘Two good men, brothers, fight- ing with murder in their hearts for the possession of a nine-dollar fake diamond! Do you see where the humor of it ends, and where the tragedy begins? Well, we piled on and pulled them apart, and it took the lot of us! You have noticed how Jem’s nose is slewed over to one side? Michael did that the first fight. “T believe, now, that each of them, in his heart, had been blaming the other for falling for Peg Hamilton’s game in the first place. Now it was out, they were sworn enemies; though they both still insisted that the diamond was genuine. They wouldn’t admit even to one another that they had been cooked; so, you see, they had no founda- tion upon which to build peace, no starting point. Each claimed the other was trying to steal the stone for himself. “The first night, in the confusion, Michael got away with the diamond. The next morning they met again—both sober this time. Michael had the diamond in the pocket of his coat. “Ve dirrty thafe,’ says Jem, “They fought again, up and down the street, for fifteen minutes or so. All the niggers were out, watching, wondering what it was allabout. At length, four gendarmes, and three civilians, one of whom was my- self, got them apart. Michael had a broken arm, and had lost his coat, with the diamond, to Jem. The feud was now well under way. Ruskin said that pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes. You see what it was doing to the McClone brothers. They split partnership. Michael took the schooner—they had bought it by now— and Jem took the plantation. Michael has been using the schooner as a feeder for the steamers that make Port au Prince. He Adventure makes all the coast ports and discharges at the capital. But he carries not an ounce of Jem’s coffee; Jem wouldn’t give it to him and Michael wouldn’t carry it if he would. They have fought a dozen times in the past eight months, and the diamond has passed back and forth so often that we’re never quite sure who has it. They are one-idea-at-a-time men, you see, like that donkey, and all they can think of is, how much they hate one another. Their stub- born pride will not let them give in. I don’t believe that a real diamond, of any size or quality, could ever have come be- tween them; but you see what a bit of paste has done! Too bad.” “Yes, it is,” said Captain Mac. “Why don’t you fellows get together and take the thing away from them? Perhaps that would end the feud.” ‘Perhaps it would; but I wouldn’t want to be in on that deal! You see what madmen they are. They would hunt us down and slaughter us. The only thing I can think of to do is—put sand in their ears. Ha! Funny thing, human nature. No accounting for it. Take me, for in- stance: There is nothing in the world I hate as much as I do Haiti; and there is no place I would rather be. Perhaps the McClones care nothing at all for the thing they persist in calling a diamond; but see how they are fighting for it! I’m wondering how long it will be before they take to using knives or guns. They are coming to that. Too bad!” Captain Mac nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. He took his ship’s papers from his pocket and laid them on the desk before the agent. “Now, Breen, if you’ll fix up my en- trance papers,” he said. “I’m here for twelve hundred tons of cargo, and some of it is coffee—Jem McClone’s, I see.”’ ¢ § MR. DOWNS, the Hawk’s third 38 mate, was very tired. Allafternoon ae = he had been checking cargo as it was swung over the side from the lighters. He had been on his feet fifteen hours that day, and still had an hour to go: afmidnight he would go off watch until seven in the morn- ing, when the last of the cargo, three thous- and bags of coffee, would begin to come aboard. He came up from below and decided to wait out the remainder of the watch in the wing of the bridge. He put his elbows GO NOOK 1e@)