Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

ni) Re: 178 “ Fat chance we have,” insisted Watson. “Two of us and a few natives.” “ You know anything about hydraulics?” * Not a thing.” “Well, that’s been my business mainly. And we stand to make the difference be- tween ten or twenty thousand apiece if we sell out, or splitting a million if we float her.” ‘“ That’s an awful stimulant to effort; for five hundred thousand dollars I’d try to drag her off by myself!” Breck assured him. ‘“ Well, I’m not certain, but I think we’ve a chance.” “Gosh all hemlock—how?” “ Wait; let me look a bit further into it.” CHAPTER V. CLEARING THE DECKS. REAKFAST was had soon after dawn. Clay and Watson, full of plans and en- - thusiasm, descended to the water front where Pedro Alegre was waiting for them. He had employed a young man of about his age named Juan Monte—brother of the good looking girl—to go along, and had made arrangements with a boatman. The Loreli was a half mile from La Paz around the curve of the bay. Landing di- rectly in rear of the vessel, the party walked up to the wreck. Morrill had said at Panama that she was a quarter of a mile up on dry land. Wat- son stepped the distance from the rowboat, at the water’s edge, and it was low tide. He estimated it as three hundred yards in- stead of four hundred and forty. The high tide line was plain about the vessel two- thirds of her length, the bow section being above it. Watson also estimated the fall from extreme high tide mark to low water at ebb as being between five and six feet. The Loreli had settled down in the mud and sand on even keel to a depth of at least eight or nine feet. The ladder was down, where the crew left it when they departed. Watson climbed up, followed by Ted Clay, Pedro, Juan Monte and the boatman. A flock of gulls making headquarters on the wreck arose and circled with eerie, dis- ~ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. cordant cries; a dozen or more pelicans sol- emnly ranged on the rail of the bridge sailed lumberingly away, clapping their beaks in vast indignation at being disturbed. It was a scene of desolation which greeted the visitors, from the rusty, salt incrusted and streaked smokestacks, to rusted steel masts, decks and winches. The brass fit- tings were corroded; paint was peeling from woodwork under combined influence of tropic sun and rain. The hundreds of gulls and pelicans using the place as a rendezvous and roost had added to the unpromising outlook. “Gosh, it’s going to be one awful job to clear this old hulk up!” ejaculated Watson. “Pedro, you get me a dozen men for to- morrow. If she’s got any paint in her stores we can stop this rust eating on her, and the woodwork needs it worse than the steel.” The party made the rounds of the lower deck. There were two hatches forward and two aft, with twin winches located between. The cargo booms attached to the steel masts appeared to be all right, except badly rust- ed, and of course would not swing. While a deal of old rope, cable, rotted tarpaulins, splintered remains of lifeboats and other débris cluttered the deck, there appeared to be nothing vitally smashed or badly dam- aged. “So far, so good; let’s see how she is upstairs?” suggested Watson, leading the way to the bridge. The door to the wheel house had been stove in by waves; glass in windows was smashed and the floor lit. tered with rubbish. The wheel and com- pass appeared to be in good shape. The chart room in the rear had a splin- tered door, and two window lights gone. Charts were on the floor, faded and crum- pled up; the cushions from the wall seat were rotted, and the swinging lamp was smashed. The cabin of the officer of the watch next behind was in confusion. Moldy mattresses, pillows, and rotted linoleum all mixed on the floor; a couple of window lights broken and the door warped and jammed. ‘““ Not so bad when we clean it up; this ought to make a dandy cool room for us when we move over,” suggested Clay. “You bet, and we’ll start cleaning righi COPMICGLOOOKS (F@