Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

660 finally set foot upon the forward deck. They dimly distinguished two or three figures, one of whom stood be- side a big box and turned a crank like the crank of a hand organ. From the box came doleful wails. It was the fog horn, operated by hand. They drew close to this apparatus and ques- tioned the musician about it. “We got a motor horn,” he in- formed them, “ but it got out of order. This darn thing makes noise enough, Pll say.” “You're right,” agreed Chipmunk, as the machine gave an eerie shriek. *'Let’s go back, Les.” “Wait a minute,” Les replied. “I thought I saw a light, right over there. Coming this way. Look.” He pointed off the port quarter. Chipmunk glimpsed a green flicker for a moment, which immediately van- ished. A hail came down from the lookout perched invisibly on the squat mast just aft of them, and a shout from the man at the bow. Out of the fog floated a hoarse blast and the shriek of a steam siren. Both youths moved to the port rail and craned their necks and strained their eyes, but could see nothing, and then it seemed as if the ship was vio- lently jerked away from them, so sud- denly and with such force that Chip- munk went head foremost over the rail. With a gasp of horror Les grasped at a flying leg, leaning far over, then came a second jerk less violent than the first ; he was off his balance, the weight of Arthur Colter finished the job, he toppled overboard and struck the water a second after his friend had gone st- lently beneath the surface. The catastrophe happened so aston- ishingly that neither made an outcry as the cold water engulfed them. : Les came to the surface spluttering, to see Arthur’s head bobbing two feet away. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Help!” Colter was _ bellowing. “Help! Man overboard!” His voice sounded strangely weak to Lucus, who joined him in his shrieks, and swam to his side. Both men were good swim- mers, but the water was not warm, and they were hampered by their coats and shoes; their only hope was rapid rescue. There were other noises in the fog. The horn of the steamer was roaring, faint cries came from the barge, and the man with the hand horn was blat- ting continuously. “We might as well shut up,” Les said with surprising calm. “ They can’t hear us in that racket. Try to get your shoes off, Chip, and I'll help you get out of your coat. You do the same for fie” “Help!” cried Colter, one last de- spairing yell. ‘““ My Lord, they’re leav- ing us!” The barge, which had been looming over them, was drawing away; in a few seconds they lost sight of her hull, and then her lights vanished. The steamer stopped blowing her horn. Of her they never had a sight. “What do you suppose happened ?” Arthur gasped as Les, treading water, dragged the water-soaked coat from his shoulders. “Tread water, don’t try to swim,” said his friend. ‘Can you get your shoes off?” He supported Colter’s shoulders while the latter tugged at his shoes and finally managed to kick them off, then Arthur performed the same service for him. “Float. ‘Take it easy,” Les advised. “Tf we’re going to be picked up, this is as good a place as any.” “The water isn’t so cold now. How good a swimmer are you, Les?” | “T think I can keep afloat quite awhile.”’ “ Swimming is the best thing I do,” Arthur declared. “ We must move a little or get chilled. What on earth happened ?” Eomichbooks (E@)