Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

Great as far off as they could without leaving the Rest Easy, for they liked the size of its beer mugs. So again they sat moodily staring at empty mugs. Their money was about gone, long before free lunch, or bought, had lost its flavor, beer its glow, whisky its warmth. They had made inquiries here and there and found that, if anything, the runaway cailor seemed to have somewhat under- stated the conditions on the Clarendon. Lots of people appeared to have heard about her. - Hearsay gave her a bad name. She was a madhouse, right. The mates were reported to be holy terrors. The report of molasses three times a day was scornfully dismissed as more unfounded than the re- port that ice cream is served for breakfast in the lower regions. “But look here,” said Webster to his mates as they sat unhappily eying one another. “I been on the worst hookers that float. No matter how bad they come, if you do your work, step lively, keep gaskets on your tongue, you get along.” “Wise words,” said the Duke. ‘Ought to be written on a little sign and tacked to the scuttle butt—with your name as author.” Webster went on, ignoring the Duke’s opinion— “And there’s always something that comes your way. No matter how bad a mess you’re in, something turns up.” “Turns up and knocks you off your feet,” added the Duke, who had relapsed into one of his morose moods. : “Yer right, Dick, ol’ son. Yer right. that time Hi went hoverboard off Cape ’Orn, the water it was full of hice. But Hi said, ‘’Arry, ol’ dear, it’s something to ’ave the water cold. Yer know there’s no sharks habout.’ An’ when they fished me hout they give me ’ot whisky, they did. That was something, too—off the ’Orn.” Said the Duke: ; “I’m really’ getting interested in this Clarendon. Everybody hates her so. Be- sides, I didn’t like that fellow off of her. He smelt suspiciously of the Chartreuse be- fore he swallowed it. And his eyes didn’t match.” It hadn’t even occurred to them not to go aboard the Clarendon. ‘They had put their names to her papers, they had taken her advance, spent it, and sail with her 10 Days 145 they would though she cleared for the Sulphur Lake. “Besides,” said Webster, ‘‘I hate a ship where the crew grows fat. Makes ’em snore nights, being fat. Spoils your sleep.” “Right-ho!” cried ’Arry. “Who would pick a beasy ship? Ol’ men an’ farmers. Give me the ’ellers ever’time. Hi’m a sailor, Hi am!”’ And ’Arry banged his mug defiantly. A moment before ’Arry’s boastful words would have been safe enough, and have passed into thin air along with the filmy wisp of smoke that rose from the cigaret between his pipe-stem fingers. But two men had just entered through the alley door. One of these men was broad shouldered, short in the neck, with a thick head and a square face; he had a short hooked nose and bushy brows overhanging hard blue eyes. There was something masterful about him and contemptuous. The other was younger, but cut from the same timber; there was a slight sameness in the mold of features, the short thick neck, the hard eyes, the -take-the-world swing of his shoulders. “Hi’m a sailor, Hi am!” ’Arry had shouted and they heard him. THE big man stopped short and Ey laughed, contemptuous, and amusedly regarded the mosquito-like form of the little Cockney. ‘“‘Sailor—you!”’ ‘“‘Hiam, so Hi ham!” snapped ’Arry, look- ing fierce. ‘Here Frank, see what calls hisself a sailor! Ain’t he cute? If be ever goes to sea I bet he takes along a doll to sleep with. Why, you little biscuit weevil, if I ever got you to sea I’d stick you in a cage with my parrot and let him teach you—” ’Arry’s heavy mug flew up and struck the man in the face. | But the man took the terrific and un- expected blow as if the mug had been made of rubber. His head moved back a little, but the blow seemed hardly to jar him. It was as if every day of his life he was used to being walloped in the face with beer mugs; and the next instant with a sidelong swipe of open palm he had knocked ’Arry from his chair and far out on the floor. “‘Sailor—O!”’ shouted the square-faced one, and laughed. micloool C© inn