Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

144 coat pocket and with ceremonial delibera- tion held it up to view. ‘‘We have here something rare, very rare. How it ever got on a Barbary Coast shelf is beyond my feeble powers of conjecture. But you see here the far-famed liquor of the Carthusian monks, who, being forbidden the use of grape or grain, interceded with Heaven for some relief from their fate; and Heaven, hearing their prayer, be- stowed upon them the gift of brewing from a weed, a mere weed, this most exalted of cordials.”’ Having properly prepared them for an appreciation of his treasure, the Duke pro- ceeded to serve it. His guests were all set for a drink, and eyed with distrust the bare tablespoonful of yellow fluid that he watchfully poured into each of the four beer glasses the waiter had brought. ’Arry Coy gave his spoonful a critical inspection; Webster moistened his lips thirstily; the stranger hfted his to his nose sniffing audibly. It did look more like a smell than a drink. Then with outraged feelings the Duke saw his three companions tip their glasses and at one swallow suck down the thick liquor; after which they looked blankly at one another. ‘“‘Now we'll ’ave some beer,” said ’Arry Coy, beating the table with a knife handle and looking for the waiter. “Aye,” said Webster. “Steam beer.” ‘““Mates,” said the stranger, “I only hope as how I’ll never have the chanct to do as much for you as you’re doin’ for me, ’cause before that could be, you’d have to put in five months of double-dyed damnation on board the rotten old tub of a Clarendon!”’ If their guest had hit them with a three- spiked club the momentary silence would not have been more complete. ’Arry Coy was able to speak first. gasped— “Wot!” Webster’s deep voice came in with— ‘“What’s that!” The Duke, who had been reflectively iouching the edge of his glass to get the avor without diminishing the liquor, said: “Will you please repeat that name? It seems to have a familiar sound.” The runaway sailor obligingly repeated cil he had said, adding elaborate variations d He Adventure that affirmed the Clarendon to be a leaky craft where good men were chaincd to the pumps. Aye, she was so blastingly bad that he’d known it to be watch and watch at the pump, with the watch below getting its rest by working ship, and sleeping as it could about the deck. The food was rotten. The pork was hunks of dried salt dipped in grease; the beef so rank that they used to drive away sharks by heaving chunks of it overboard. And the skipper and mates drew their pay from the for- feited wage of runaway sailors. ’"Arry began to talk to his empty beer glass, calling it “Ol’ Pal,” and telling it what an unlucky world this was and how after taking the greatest care in the world to pick a ’ome they had signed on a ’eller. He demanded to know why anyhow were sailormen ever born? Webster grinned in a silly way, looking just about as he would have looked if a friend, too much of a friend to fight, had dropped an oyster down the back of his neck. ‘““My friend,” said the Duke, eying the stranger in a cool appraising way, “‘you are passing remarks about our ship.” The fellow stared blankly. “Your ship? What you givin? me? You fellers ain’t off the Clarendon.” “Tomorrow morning we’ll be on_ her. We signed today.”’ “Then the —— help you. from truck to keelson!”’ He owns her II s4) SOMEWHERE near midnight the | §) three sailors were back in the Rest Kasy Saloon, at the table nearest the rear door, through which an occasional patron who knew his way in the alley entered. A lot of night owls and barflies were gathered up at the bar around a party of slummers who thought they were seeing life because they drank with soaks and spongers that had been accompanying them from waterfront saloon to saloon, showing them about. Some of them already called the fattest and loudest of these spenders by his first name, which was George, and patted him on the back; and he liked it. The Duke, ’Arry and Webster had stood at the bar until this mob drifted in; then, being respectable sailormen, they had gone micloool © in