Adventure Magazine Cover — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

Treasure with their oars, at times with outstretched arms. ‘There was the risk too of capsizing the boat as men tried to leave it. The steersman stood up—a voice or two spoke in surprize: ‘How tall the blighter is!” “Fora Chink, ——! ’E’s man-sized!” And, without noiiceable effort balancing himself to the jerk and pitch of the boat, he spoke to his men, making them keep down, telling which to rise and when to make the jump. One, then another, then the third made a scrambling reach for the sea-ladder, caught hold, climbed swayingly, was helped and pulled on deck. Po-Shu moved reluctantly, half standing, one hand on the gunwale, the other raised to reach. “Wait a minute,” Old Tom shouted, é ‘vie’ He started to climb over and down the swinging ladder to give her a hand; but Pelew pushed him aside with a kind of glee- fulness— “Ladies like for me to help ’em!”’ Pelew, with an ape-like agility, swung over, dropped down, and dangling there, reached below him, caught Po-Shu’s arm, pulled, held her, helped her, hugged her tightly, then let her pass into other hands that reached down for her. “Come on, ol’ !? Pelew, with his hand thrust down to help, called the steersman a vile name, but meant it com- panionably. The Chinese was not a big man at all, but tall and half naked, looked so thin that one must wonder from where he got the weight to bend a steering oar; for a moment he eyed Pelew with a motionless staring as if he judged between the insulting word and its friendly tone. Then he asked— “You are the captain?” Pelew, so he said afterward, nearly fell off the ladder at the way the fellow spoke; and answered, “‘Who the —— are you!” but did not wait for what the Chinese might say, for he heard a commotion on deck, high voices and a shriek. Wherever there was sound of trouble, Pelew made eager haste to have a look, usually to take part. He turned, and with the serambling rush of a monkey up a swaying bough, jumped inboard, shouting, “Here, what’s up!” But no oneanswered him. Po-Shu had reached the deck, passing in a way through many hands, all eager to help because she was a girl, an odd little 99 girl, and they were men; and Denasso, getting near her, bent his head in a quick whisper so that the instant she was free of helping hands she darted, just as if guided by a sensitive instinct, to Heddon’s side, not speaking, not clutching at him, not even looking up at him, but pressing close as when one takes shelter. “Come wiz me, Po-Shu,’’ Madame said with a curl at each corner of her mouth that was meant to be taken for a smile, and put out her hand. But Vioux, more impetuous, having much less sense than Madame, thoughtlessly made a vicious threat in French and snatched at her. Po-Shu shrank; she did not cry out, she did not make a resisting move except to press backward. A lifetime of wicked wis- dom could not have taught her to make a stronger appeal to Heddon than this atti- tude of utter weakness. He reached out, angered, caught Vioux, shook him, and with a push like a blow threw him away. Vioux screamed with the shrillness of a frightened woman, and landed sprawling, half-way across the deck. Madame, fixing her coal-black eyes on Heddon, paused rigidly; then with rapid flutter of hands cried: “Good, monsieur! Ze beast-brute, heem! To hurt thees child. Come, Po-Shu—you dear leetle sing! Come an’ I weel give you ze warm dry dress—’’ Po-Shu looked at her, but did not answer and turned a quick anxious upward glance at Heddon. Heddon did not notice, was not looking at her but at the half-naked Chinese who was coming near. He stood a head taller than most Chinese; although a _ yellow-belly castaway, there was no humbleness in his bearing, and he did not move his bare feet with anything like a coolie’s shuffling scrape, as did the other Chinese sailors who now stood together near the bulwarks, their shoulders hunched impassively to the rain, their necks drawn in like the sons of turtles that they were. Heddon took a step forward, meeting him, and swung an arm in a backwasd gesture toward Po-Shu: “Who the devil is this girl?’ Then, thinking to make the question more plain, groped a bit in pidgin-English: ““You savvy me talkee? This nu-yen. What for you stealum her—” A loud voice, Pelew’s, called: COmiclool (C@