The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

28 there’s air enough in the camber spaces to keep her afloat for a long while yet.” Rankin climbed up and joined him on his sagging raft, careful not to put his foot through the fabric. The whale was gone utterly! So were all the shark fins. At least, they could see none from their rock- ing perch. The dominant thought that had impelled him for so long was still upper- most in Rankin’s mind. “Good stuff!” he kept muttering. “Great! Now’s her time to get away. Why don’t she turn and make a blue streak?” Their own plight remained in the back- ground of his mind, to be taken out and dealt with after other more important mat- ters had been settled. But the United States Destroyer Wood- ruff was showing no desire to get away. Instead, she rushed back and forth and up and down like a questing terrier and every now and then she barked viciously as one gun crew or another fired at any- thing which appeared to them to have the remotest chance of being a shark’s fin. For a full half hour she hunted, and then at slower speed she steamed for the soggy, slowly sinking raft. With navy smartness a boat hit the water long before the ship had lost her way, and in a few more minutes the two fanatics, nearly normal now, stood on the heaving deck which rolled thirty degrees each way and felt to them as solid as a city sidewalk. At the gangway a petty officer saluted them. ‘“‘ Cap’n’s compliments, sir. you in his cabin, sir.” Rankin was surprised. He had looked for surprise from the other side, but they seemed to have been expecting him. Lieutenant Commander Evans stood in his holy of holies, the captain’s cabin. En- sign Rankin was quite normal by this time. That is to say, he did not know exactly what navy etiquette demanded for the oc- casion. He drew himself up stiffly, drip- ping sea water all over the carpet, and saluted. ‘“‘ Report on board for duty, sir.” His commander gasped at the amazing young man. For the first time in all his Waiting for THE ARGOSY. navy experience he did not know himself exactly what such an occasion demanded. For a few minutes he said nothing; then, with a dry smile: ‘““H-m, yes; we heard all about you. Managed to pick up a wireless; but I’m hanged if we ever expected to see you.” He broke into a grim laugh. ‘ Yes, we were surprised enough; but you must have looked like the premeditated malice of the devil to those submersibles. It was great work my boy, great. We'll be sorry to lose you now.” ‘Lose me?” wondered Rankin. , “Well,” Commander Evans spoke with slow deliberation. ‘I suppose you'll be re- assigned to aviation after this. It’s not every day that-one saves a United States destroyer, you know.” Rankin’s heart jumped and he felt his color rising; and since it is not seemly for an aviator to display emotion he saluted hastily and turned to go. The deliberate voice stopped him. ‘* Better put in a claim for that machine. Since she’s been in active service I guess the navy ’ll take her over.” “Thank you, sir.” Again Rankin turned with his hand on the door-knob lest his face should betray the double exulta- tion in his soul. Once again that exasperating recall. “Oh, by the way; there was another wireless; private, for you; a most insistent person.” Rankin wheeled in a flash. There is a limit to emotional suppression. His com- manding officer was holding out a long en- velope to him. Rankin took it with a haste which amounted almost to a rudeness and tore it open with fingers that trembled un- manfully. The first thing he looked for was the signature—Eileen! It loomed as big as a theater advertisement. “ Bully for both of you,” it read. know you'll succeed.” Rankin waved it wildly over his head and whooped like a hysterical Indian. It was a shameful display of emotion for an aviator, and a most improper action for an ensign in his commander’s private cabin. But Lieutenant Commander Evans only smiled. a | comicbool< CO