Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

560 “Good, second. Quick work. That’s the lads. What do you make it?” “Fore compartment’s full of water, sir. Ripped, Bulkheads holding. No water aft I can make out, sir.” Sandy picks us out with his torch and comes up. “ Forty-five on the gauge, sir; signals says to report she’s settling, five degrees by the bow, sir.” The captain hears. “ Tell first to pump out the fuel tanks. Stand by for the hand pumps.” “ Aye, aye, sir!” But it’s a proper bit o’ hint in orders like that. 7Slike sayin’ here we are, but how’ll we be gettin’ some place else? I gives the orders to the first, and I gives him the able bodies to take the pumps. “Report carrying out,” he tells me. Then he holds me. ‘‘ Second cox’un,” he Says. “« Aye, aye, first cox’un.” “ Stow the aye, aye,” he mumbles. “ I’m askin’ you, man to man, I ain’t been such a hell of a superior, have I? Not too up- ish, toffish, I mean? You'll answer me fair.” “ First cox’un,” says I, “I'll give it to you fair, You’ve been a damn clean first, and what’s separate and additional, you’ve been a chum. Blow me if you ain’t!” “ Fair?” “ Fair,” “Stand by the captain, second cox’un.” “ Ave, aye, first cox’un.” I looks at the gauge as I’m goin’ by. When I throw my torch on the captain, he’s thoughtful-like, and silent. The lieu- tenant’s watchin’ him. I begs to report gauge readin’. “ Needle’s hoverin’, sir. Seems to be holdin’. Up a foot and down a foot, sir,” “ Thank you, second. We can do with a bit of steadiness.” The torch beams, tremblin’ here and there, make it kind o’ sneaky, and the cuss- in’ a body gives the Diesels when they’s buzzin’ you out o’ hearin’ ain’t nothin’ to what you wants to baptize ’em with when they’re so contrary quiet. I’m arguin’ with myself that maybe, any- how, the S-12 is as like to take a notion to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. go up as down, between now and six, when I hears the lieutenant say to the captain, low, sort of, the Diesels bein’ still that way: ‘ What’s chances, sir?” So I listen, not denyin’ that there’s a bit o’ curiosity in my disposition. The cap- tain waits a minute, then he answers, low like, too: “ Not much, if we’re to depend on our- selves, old fellow. She’s so heavy for’ard she wouldn’t move even if we had the mo- tors. We’re lucky to have controls work- ing, but we can’t raise her. She'll settle. Splendid crew we have, lieutenant.” “ King’s lads, all of them, sir,” Fine chap, that lieutenant. King’s lad himself, thinks I. ’Sfunny how a lubber can change his mind about his uppers. I keep stealin’ a look at the captain. Presently he shakes his head as if there’s somethin’ in it he doesn’t like. He wheels, sharp, and gets sight o’ me. “Tell first to shut down fuel pumps. Bring him back with you.” “Fuel pumps closed down, sir,” the first reports, when I bring him up. The captain doesn’t reply, but speaks to the lieutenant: ‘““ Muster the men, lieutenant.” I move about, opposite the first, and help gather ‘em up. I calls the stokers through the engine-room tube. We make a tightish jam, torches flickerin’, some shinin’ up, some down. Kind o’ know what’s goin’ on in a blighter’s mind when he’s behind a torch from the way his beam splashes, steady or shaky. “All present, sir,” first cox’un reports. “ Ship’s company present, sir,” the lieu- tenant gives the captain. He stands stiff, throwin’ his light on his own face. The torch flashes come down from over and up from under, and we puts our lights on our faces so the captain can see ship’s company. He brings his hand up to salute, and he holds it there, longer than ordinary. I’m thinkin’ maybe he’s puttin’ somethin’ into the salute, while he looks us over, quiet like, that we don’t know about or maybe ain’t our business. Pretty soon he clears his throat. “Men,” he says, steady, “we'll be 5A (C@) micGhbooks Eo