Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

Native Born Cunning balefulness flashed into Zu- anich’s muddy black eyes, like a man seeing an opportunity to bait. “Sure, I give you a knock down, Mister Yank from Middy, Missoury. Them along that side and by the door, dey are the for- eign crew and dey hate Americans. Eat ‘em alive. These four, foreign passengers what your immigration inspectors did not think good enough to let into the U. S. But I take ’em in. Their tickets cost them one t’ousand dollars apiece on my boat. T land them at Seattle. Purty soon me and . Vike we go into court and swear by golly they been here a long time. The judge he make them good citizens of the U. S. A!” Zuanish finished with a triumphant leer. Coming through Canada Leep had heard talk of immigrant-running into the United States, and he realized what Zuanich meant. He stared at the four indicated. Two of them were bushy-bearded and un- washed; one was thin-lipped and white and cruel, he who had shoved Leep with the heel of his hand; and the fourth was a sort of ragged dandy, long, lank, stupid, with a little, waxed, up-ended mustache and a dull and empty eye. It was plain why the inspectors had not permitted them to enter, and at the thought of them calling themselves Americans, all the peevishness in the Missourian over the wet and cold and hunger and alienism knotted up in him for one fling of venom. “You take these fouls to the United States, you king o’ fouls, and I’ll sick the officers on you!”’ And for good measure he spat into Zuanich’s face. Zuanich was quick. His fist landed on Leep’s chin, and the youth landed in the corner, not exactly knocked out but ex- tremely reluctant to act further. He closed his eyes and lay still. II wt =6THE Missourian had not slept in a warm place for several nights. The heaviness resulting from the blow and his- general stupor blended into heavy sleep, there where he sagged in a corner. The sleep of the reckless and condemned. Slept until he was yanked from his slum- bers by Zuanich demanding that he get up and get out. ae could hardly get his eyelids apart. 65 ‘The hijacker shoved him out of the cabin before he realized that everybody else was out. The first sweep of the rainy night wind cleared his mind. Leep caught a picture—the speedboat grappled to another boat with chains, lights on both craft, men scattered about, Vike and three others holding two young fellows in the forward end of the other boat. Zuanich jerked him along. “Take your dirty mitt off of me,” Leep muttered. “You see how I treat no-good Yankees,” said the hijacker, pointing to the eaptives and captors. ‘Look on the fishin’ boat. All right, Vike, sling ’em.” Immediately the captors rushed their prisoners to the bulwarks and shoved them over into the water. Leep saw them by the dim light from the boats that the land was but a few yards away. The two young men quickly swam and waded to shore. When they straight- ened up on the bare rocks a pocket flash- light was turned on them. One shook his fist and shouted wildly, but the other only grinned thinly, and Leep instinctively knew that the grinning one was the danger- ous one. This incident finished, Leep was mformed by Zuanich why a crew had been shipped to transfer liquor from the eaptured boat to the Sea Horse, for one thing. The wooden fishing boat was jammed with a cargo in its cabin. Some of the men were set to passing it to the Sea Horse. One man was put to chopping off the mast. Vike got a dyna- mite charge ready with a short fuse. With these activities under way, the chief hi- jacker started the powerful engine on his own boat and, begun towing the prize, leaving the two wet Americans on the rocky shore. The towing was continued an hour or more, the captive craft being run into a little bay at last. Not more than half the liquor was off, but the Sea Horse had all she could hold. The grappling chains were loosed, the fuse lighted, and the speedboat backed off. Presently there was a dull roar, a bulge and splash of water, and the wooden boat begun to sink by the stern. “Tomorrow night,” said Zuanich, feeling good over the venture, ‘‘we come back wit’ diving armor and pull up the rest of the VOO