Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

26 Adventure was Day as done it, eh? It was him directing things?’ “Aye,” said Hampton. ‘He suggested the sentence to old Nickerson, and it seemed all fair enough. Otherwise, d’ye see, I'd ha’ been put in irons for trial on return to Beverly, which would have suited me poorly indeed, for I have work to do. But let’s work back slowly. It was not in Nickerson’s mind, of course, or the skip- per’s either, to set us adrift without food or sail; with them, we’d not be badly off. As it is now “Tt’s nothin’ short of murder,” said Job Warlock, ‘‘and it’s Day’s doin’, too. It was him caught the crowd all aback, drove orders at ’em, cast us adrift; so that’s settled. Aye, we did wrong to trust the rogue! Was it him murdered the old man?” Hampton shook his head. “Wait; come fo that later. Why should Day have gone out of his way to take us aboard ship, only to work this game on us? It looks queer, Job. He’d have murdered me instead of setting me adrift, had he dared doit. Why, then, would he want me killed, after taking me along and promising me command of a schooner?”’ “Hm! Where was he when the murder was done?” “T don’t know—ah!” Hampton checked himself, recollecting. ‘He was in the after cabin with the other company officers—I re- member seeing him there as I glanced in.” “Could he have done the job, then slipped into the after cabin?” Hampton shrugged, frowned, puffed for a moment at his emptied pipe. “Hard to say; it’s possible, of course. Yet, why would he have killed Jed Barnes?” “Well, work it out and we'll find a key.” Warlock slipped off the thwart, settled him- self in the bottom of the boat, bracing him- self to the swing and the fall. ‘“‘Where’d ye see him first, and howe” “By chance. Pure chance.” Hampton recounted in detail his first meeting with James Day. For both of them, this effort to pierce the mystery not only had its own end to be attained, but served to relieve their thoughts. They were already suffering from thirst, because of their hurts and because of the lack of water itself affecting their imagination; both men realized clearly the peril of letting their minds dwell upon their almost hopeless circumstance. “First meetin’, then, all pure chance,” commented Job Warlock. “Fair enough; he had need of you, like he said, so set that down to his side of the ledger. He took me on for the same reason, and that’s all square. Now, then, what was it come up to change him ty “Ah!” Hampton’s gray eyes lighted with a sudden flash of recollection. ‘That night, after he took you to your quarters, he came back and offered me introductions to friends of his in the Panama country—filibusters or pirates, no matter which. Said I could make my fortune in a year, throw in with him! When I refused, there were no hard words, but there was a look in his eye——”’ ‘Too fast, too fast, matey! Take in a reef,” cried out Warlock in swift animation. ““D’ye remember how he jerked out the little pistol on us? How it was that story of your brother—oh, I see it now, the trail’s all clear! The world’s a fine place, so hurray!”’ The half-breed’s swarthy features were agleam with exultation, with wolfish eager- ness. He was scenting out this mental trail as he would follow any forest track, and seemingly he had now found the hidden clue. He leaned forward, dark eyes blazing. “Listen, matey! Oh, it’s clear as day now, aye, Day!” His lips drew back from his teeth in a snarling grin, and he checked himself to find the right words. “That letter from your brother—why, news of that hit him between wind and water! Caught him flat aback. What a shift o’ wind it was for him! Stripped him to bare poles, and out came the pistol!’ Hampton caught the implication. “Go on,” he said grimly. ‘“You’ve hit it. Next?” “Little black bull came down from the mountain,” sang Warlock, and laughed. “Oh, aye, clear as Day himself now! That mention of the letter, of your errand, of the man who had caught your brother atrip— Winslow!” “His bitterest enemy,’ said Hampton, and frowned. ‘‘Yet how that could have changed him toward me, made him hate me, I don’t quite see! The man Winslow——”’ “Not Winslow, not Winslow!” cried out the other eagerly. ‘It was a false trail, and it threw us all off! Not Winslow at all!”’ ‘What are ye driving at, man?” “Dias! What’s that but Spanish for comicbooks.cO in