The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 3 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

@ THE VOYAGE OF THE PULO WAY.* A record of some strange doings at sea—The bold project of a tramp steamer’s captain and the sequel to its execution—A justifiable mutiny and its thrilling episodes. SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED. THOMAS RAVENSFORD, who tells the story, is on his way from Hong Kong to Manila, to take there a better position with his firm than the one he has filled at the home office for several years. As it is important that he should reach his destination without delay, he secures © passage on the first vessel sailing for Manila, which is a sort of tramp steamer—the Pulo Way. Her commander, Captain Macshiel, is manfestly unwilling to take a passenger on this voyage, but finally consents to do so. Ravensford finds some odd things in the life on boara, not the least curious of which is the evolution of a Chinese coolie into a Mr. Gupp, who is dubbed third mate, and does an astonishing amount of practice firing from a cannon which is set up forward. ie reason for this is apparent when Ravensford learns from the second mate, Hayling, a very decent sort of fellow, that Macshiel intends no less a crime than to intercept the Australian mail steamer, Chung Tong, and rob her of the fifty thousand pounds in gold she is reported to be carrying. Protest is useless, and when the Chung Tong appears she is halted by a signal of distress flown by the Pulo Way. Ravensford is sent, with Hayling, in the sniall boat that is to bring back from the liner the price of her whole hull. CHAPTER VIII.—TuHE Last oF THE LINER. AYLING and I sat together in the stern, he grimly mute, I bursting with surmise. His right hand grasped the tiller, and he fixed his keen eyes steadily ahead. ‘The man who rowed stroke, a big, gaunt specimen of the northern Chinaman, grinned meaningly at me from time to time. An impertinent grin it was, and one that I might have resented in another place. But, guessing the fellow’s thoughts, and why he had been sent with us, I kept my temper. As I turned about to look at our ship, I whispered to Hayling : | ‘You are not one of them?”’ ‘‘In the way that you are,’’ he replied, without looking. ‘‘ Can’t we board this vessel ?’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Impossible. She would be sunk in ten minutes.’’ I felt that this was true, and thought some unkind things of Mr. Gupp. Our stroke grinned unpleasantly, as though he understood. I was not then aware of the concealed weapons on the men, nor did I imagine that at our first attempt to fly those weapons would have been used against us. About a dozen yards from the Chung Tong Hayling called to the men to stop, and then, standing up in the boat, he saluted the captain, a middle aged, brown bearded man, with a fat, choleric face. ‘You have fifty thousand pounds on board ?’’ he cried bruskly. © This story began in the September issue of THE ARGOSY, which will be mailed to any address on recetpt of ro cents. * Copyright, 7897, by Carlton Dawe. Eomichbooks (S@)