Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

Eight Seconds told. It says that Watling light is under- going repairs and must not be relied on till further notice. We should make the land- fall after midnight. That’s why we need a good time signal, so we’ll know whether or not we can depend on our observations.” “That’s right, sir. Maybe we'll get a good one at noon tomorrow. We’ve got three days before we can expect to see Watling.” When Tommy Downs was relieved at midnight by Scott, the second mate, he walked aft to the wireless room. Before going to bed, it was his custom to read the radio press news broadcasted each night between ten and eleven by Arlington for the benefit of ships at sea. Coleman was bent over his typewriter, typing several copies of the news from scribbled memoranda. ‘Tommy stood be- hind Coleman and read what he had typed, then he glanced at the penciled notes. “Say, Sparks,” said Tommy, “‘there’s a paragraph you left out,” and he picked up the sheet of notes and began to read: “Yacht Sabine, narcotic and rum-runner, set fire to by owner-captain after running battle with U. S. Coast Guard cutter. All members of crew captured but Captain Ted Breen, international criminal, wanted for murder, bigamy, gun running and nar- cotic smuggling. Police of four countries on look- out for him. Department of Justice officials expect to——”’ “Here, put that down!” cried Coleman, noticing for the first time what it was that Tommy was reading. ‘‘How do you expect me to copy it when you are walking around with it?” Tommy looked at Coleman in surprize; never had he heard him speak so boldly and determinedly. And then, as he looked, he saw that the boldness and determination was merely a result of some stronger emo- tion. Coleman’s lower lip was between his teeth and there was a wild, scared expres- sion in his eyes. “Give it to me,” insisted the operator, reaching for the paper. “Keep your shirt on! What’re you get- ting all excited about? I just wanted to read this paragraph you missed.”’ “T didn’t miss it. It’s—it’s a mistake, that part about the Sabine. I couldn’t get it all. No—there was a lot of static——”’ “Static? In these latitudes, and at this time of the year?”’ “Ves—a lot of it. I couldn’t get that 159 item straight. The names are all wrong, I think. I just put down what it sounded like. That’s why I—I wasn’t going to type it, because I wasn’t sure——’”’ “AJl right. Stop boxing the compass. What’re you trembling about?” “Tm not trembling—I’m shivering. It’s cold in here.”’ “Cold? You silly goat, it’s hot!” “No, it’s cold, I tell you. That’s what it is; it’s cold. I’m shivering with the cold——”’ “All right—all ri-ight! There you go getting excited again. There’s something wrong with you; your face is as white as a sheet and you’re trembling all over. You better go turn in.” i “I—I think I will,” said Coleman, and he got up, snatched the sheet of notes from Tommy’s hand and stumbled into the ad- Joining sleeping room. THE Hawk’s master and three 44 mates were on the bridge, and in the =. hand of each there was a sextant. They were waiting for the sun to climb to the meridian, when they would observe its angle from the apparent hcrizon and calcu- late the ship’s latitude. “‘Here comes ‘Crooked-nose,’ ’’ remarked Scott. ‘Wonder what he wants?” “He wants his nose knocked straight, if you ask me,” said Tommy Downs. Brown came to the bridge, strode boldly up to Captain Mac and touched his cap with a deference that his face and manner belied. “A word with you, cap’n?” he said, with. a calculating squint of one eye. “Certainly.” ‘Well, here it is, man to man and straight from the shoulder: Will you put me ashore on Watling Island? Just quiet-like, with- out telling the British consul aJl about it? Eh?” 2 “T will not,” said Captain Mac. “TI shall follow maritime law and custom and turn you over to the American consul at my first port of entry—Port-au-Prince.”’ ‘Yeah. We-ell—how abeut me and you talking this thing over privately, kind 0’ quiet-like, where the whole ship’s company ain’t standing around with their ears flop- ping in the wind? Ehp” He cast a half-humorous, half-contemptu- ous glance at the three listening mates, then turned his back on them, ° CoOMmichook A) (© =