Adventure Magazine Cover — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

94 one time. was from.” “Tf you follers deep water long enough, itll git ye.” “Aye. ’Ow many old sailors ’ave you ever seed?”’ Jukes raised his head painfully and lis- tened. From neck to ankles his body was a fiery blister. “I been eleven blasted year at sea. I got nuthin’.”’ “You never will ’ave.”’ ““W’oo caresP”’ ‘“‘There don’t no one care. is dogs.” ‘This here’ll be my last v’yage.”’ ‘“Aye.— That’s wot you says— Wait.” “Wait yerself. I’m done.” “Haw, haw, haw!” “‘There’s one as had ought to be cured leastways,” and a nod toward the forecastle. Jukes climbed from the bunk and tot- tered out into the starlight. ‘°Qw are ye, matey?” “Bring ’im some water.” Jukes gulped cold water down. “?Ere,mate— You’ad it in yer ’and.” Jukes took the little oilskin package. They led him back and laid him in the bunk again. They smeared more grease on his burned limbs. They gave him more water. “Look at ’im!—I’m done.”’ “Me, too.” As Jukes with fumbling fingers untied the package, they gathered round. He nodded his head. His lips moved. A sailor bent above him, listening. ‘“‘*Fe’s done. No more o’ ships fer ’im.” Jukes dozed away. They passed the picture from hand to hand. They read the dog-eared letter over. “Look at ’ere,’’ said one, and pointed to the date. ‘Three year ago! time—” ‘‘Shanghaied, maybe.” “Them crimps.” “T’m done.” “Haw, haw, haw! None ever knowed wot ship they You an’ me ’"Ee’s been a long Maybe!” T WAS the dog-watch time. The sun [ was setting. Warm, pearly little clouds passed overhead. A low wind mur- mured. The sailor on lookout leaned on the forecastle rail, watching his comrades on the deck below. Skipper and mate looked for- BILL ADAMS ward from the poop. The cook and car- penter lolled in the galley doorway. A dozen sailors gamboled by the hatch, trying themselves, pitting their strength and skill against each others. Alf Jukes was there, with head and shoulders higher than the rest. ‘Here, Jukes!” called one, a lad with an unshaven downy face, “I’ll race you to the masthead!— Up and back. A pound of baccy to the winner. You take the main, and [’ll go up the fore.” “Ere, Chips! Come on an’ start ’em,” called an eager sailor; and Chips, the car- penter, stepped up. “One—two—”’ “Tl bet a pound o’ baccy on young Limbertoes!”’ ““Me, too.” Turning to the mate, the skipper said— “The young fellow’ll win.” “Aye,” said the mate, “he’s young. It’s in his favor.” Jukes at the main, the other at the fore shrouds, stood waiting ‘‘three.”’ “Threel”’ snapped the carpenter. “Go!—go!—go!”’ ‘““Go, Limbertoes! My baccy’s on you!” “Go, Jukes!— Go, Jukes!’ “Show ’im a sailor! now!” Over the futtock shrouds, together, neck and neck, went Jukes and Limber. “Two pound o’ baccy—’oo takes me on? Show ’im, Limber, _ —two pound on Limber!’’ “Done—an’ my Sunday whack o’ duff thrown in!” “Lord!—look ‘at that there Jukes! ’Ee’s like a monkey.” “Some sailor, that,’’ the skipper said. “Look at him go!” “But the young man wins,” the mate replied. “Bully for Limber!’’ The youngster touched a hand upon the fore royal truck a touch ahead of Jukes upon the main. “Down!—down!—down!”’ roared all the sailors. Alf Jukes came sliding down the main royal stay. Down the fore royal stay came Limbertoes. “Come on, Limber!”’ “‘Limber wins!”’ “‘A tie! They’re neck and neck.” “‘No!—Limber wins!’’ A bellow rose from ever Full sailor. COMmMicoook (©