Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

Skippers off Georges sword may git into yer system,” Captain Dan declared after he had patched up the leg as best he could. ‘That means you’ll stay in yer bunk for a spell, and that we’ll clear right away for Boston with what fish we've got.” Mel’s eyes widened. ‘Clear for Boston?” he exclaimed. “‘Why—you ain’t goin’ to let a little thing like this upset yer plans, are ye, Skipper? You’ll do nothin’ of the sort! We ain’t got half a trip yet.” “We've got over a hundred,” said Captain Dan, not reprimanding Mel for his insubor- dinate words, since Mel had virtually been commander on that trip. “How many more d’you want?” “‘As many as we can git in another week’s fishin’,”’ shot back Mel. “I went with ye to make ye high-liner, skipper—an’ I won’t be satisfied till I’m sure I’ve done it.” Captain Dan half turned away from the bunk, a queer little smile wrinkling his rather comical round face. There was grit for you! A. man injured by a swordfish—a man who might have been killed outright— refusing to be taken ashore. “Tm goin’ up on deck to take a look at that punched dory,” the skipper told Mel, “then Pll be back.” He did not mention running into Boston with their fish. Mel lay back in his bunk and lighted his pipe, and Captain Dan went up the ladder. : The crew had hauled the body of the swordfish on deck, together with the dory, in the bottom of which the sword was so firmly embedded that it could not be ex- tricated handily. It was a sword over four feet in length, and it was driven through the woodwork clean to the gaping, toothless mouth of the fish. Mel’s escape from be- ing speared through the abdomen had been a narrow one, indeed. “Look!” shouted Pierre, pointing to port. Captain Dan’s eyes followed Pierre’s point- ing arm. In the distance a good-sized steam craft was approaching. A little haze rose from the smooth surface of the ground swell, through which the hulk of the single- stacked oncoming craft showed less and less distinctly. As far as the eye could reach, dark blotches dotted the tranquil water, which marked the presence of vast schools of small mackerel and herring. But fog or no fog, Captain Dan had seen enough of that craft to know that the hurri- ‘cane had not upset Captain Ira’s fishing plans, and that he had ventured out, even 131 if the main body of the swordfishing fleet had not shown up in that locality. “The Comber!’ ejaculated Captain Dan. “It’s bad enough to have the fog. But Captain Ira an’ the fog too! An’ that —— Ira in a blunderin’ trawler that’s as danger- ous as a liner in thick weather! , these waters are too small to hold us both! Git up in the crosstrees, boys!” to the crew. ‘We're goin’ to run to the nor’ard!” Il -<G) ALL THAT night the fog shroud- - ed the waters of Georges like a —=—— great liquid curtain. On deck See not even the riding lights were visible. The ‘constant drip-drip of water from the rigging kept up monotonously; the deck ran rivulets as in a rain. The watch could not look through that solid mass of demoniac vapor. He was forced to content himself with listening for the warning blasts from onrushing steamships, for the Pelamon lay directly in the route of eastbound transatlantic shipping. Mel had made light of his injured leg during the early part of the evening, and in- sisted on standing his watch with the others of the crew. Mel seemed to be deeply worried. “TI calc’late Captain Ira’s goin’ to require watchin’,” he told the skipper. ‘I don’t like the idee o’ bein’ in his neighborhood, he was so cut up ’bout me an’ my boys sailin’ with you.” “We've left him fur to the s’uth’ard,” Captain Dan endeavored to quiet the in- jured man. “An’ you'll stand no watch, Mel. That’s one order I won’t take from ye.” But Captain Dan stood his watch—and his mind was on the Comber. Intently he listened for her weird, shrill whistle. All. around the Pelamon sounded the warning. blasts of passing Europe-bound steamers, most of them far away. He listened to each whistle, trying to fathom the course of the steamer, so as to make sure that it was not headed toward the Pelamon. . One seemed to be headed in that direc- tion. Twice it had whistled, the second blast sounding considerably closer than the first. Then came the third 00-00-00h! of that lugubrious deep-throated voice to star- board. Captain Dan rushed to the bin- nacle and turned on the small electric light COMIGDIOOKSEEO