Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

50 accompany the sefior capitan, I can see the man and send him here to guide you.” ‘So you want to go aboard the schooner with the captain, eh?”’ “Si,” responded the Indian, and uttered his harsh mirthless laugh. Hampton looked at Job Warlock, and the latter shrugged slightly, leaving the de- cision to Hampton. The latter frowned in distaste, yet knew that there was nothing to be said. This was beyond question a matter of life and death. Dofia Hermana was by this time aroused, and the town was probably being searched for the false Basques. The fact that the Mexican schooner was guarded, showed that the sefiora was not overlooking any bets. This schooner represented the sole means of escape—and not of escape alone, but of getting north upon a larger errand. “Go, then,’ said Hampton. ‘“We’ll bring the weapons.” VI Mere “THIS,” observed Job Warlock as (cs) he hacked at his beard, “‘is what you get for bein’ smart with the sefiora; I hope she lands you up in a corner and gives you a piece of her mind! I bet she can give a feller plain worse’n any bucko mate. I wish El Hambre had stayed with us, instead of galivanting around with that silver knife. I like that Injun.” “It may yet be due to his knife that we get away at all,” said Hampton grimly. ‘“‘We have our backs against the wall, Job. If we’re in the city tomorrow, we’ll be lo- cated and clapped into jail, and we may rot there.” ‘‘Well, we won’t be here,” and Warlock chuckled. ‘The world’s a good place, so hurray! We ought to get some action tonight, matey.” Hampton grunted something about hav- ing had nothing but action all day, and fell to work removing his beard. They had barely finished dressing, when d’Aquila brought in the boatman—a sullen, silent Indian. Job Warlock got the weap- ons put together, and then with unwonted seriousness turned to Hampton, who was rolling up the blankets. ‘‘Matey, I reckon there’s no sense in it, but I got that same feeling that we’re steering the wrong course. I didn’t want to say anything about it before, thinking maybe i’d et my dinner too fast—but it’s Adventure more’n that. I’m scared o’ that Dofia Hermana, to tell the truth.” ‘So am I,” said Hampton. ‘“That’s why I want to get off in a hurry; if you think it’s the wrong course, suppose you stay and keep her company.”’ ‘Not me.” Warlock grinned and swung the bundled weapons over his shoulder. “Ready?” Hampton nodded and gestured to the Indian. The latter led the way from the room, d’Aquila met and conducted them by a rear door to an alley, and presently they reached the plaza. The streets were still riotous, for gambling halls, cock-pits and a fandango were in iull swing, and groups of convivial adventurers filled the narrow ways. All this was scon left behind, how- ever, and the three men approached the silent beach and waterfront where less wealthy and fortunate voyageurs to Eldo- rado were camped under open _ skies. Avoiding these tents and huts, the Indian Jed the way along dark warehouses to the shelter of a long wharf, where boats were drawn up. He silently indicated one of these, and the white men helped him get it into the water. Hampton’s spirits rose at once, for he saw the success of their scheme assured. A thin mist, a light and miasmatic vapor which foretold new corpses to feed the bay sharks, had settled down over shore and water, hiding the stars from sight and cloaking everything in gentle obscurity. This altered everything, promising a short fight aboard the schooner, and after that a safe evasion; the craft could be towed out to catch the breeze, if necessary. The moonlight, filtering through the mist, made all things more deceptive. ‘Looks good,” observed Job Warlock softly, as they got into the boat and pushed out. “Looks good. Dick! Now we got Nelly Barnes dead ahead.” ‘I hope so,” returned Hampton. The Indian made a gesture for silence, and laid out his oars. When he had wrapped these in cloths, he set to work rowing. The shore faded away, and around them was the opaline mist, while the water glistened luminously to the stirrings of the silent oars. Hampton’s nostrils twitched to the tang of the salt air. The Indian rowed stolidly, as if in perfect assurance of the way, driving the boat ahead steadily and with scarce a sound. micloool C© inn