Adventure, November 1915 — page 176: what you’re looking at

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

174 her voice, and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “T think I have a better plan,” I said to Dooin. “What is the matter with me going first, getting the boat and bringing it to a point opposite the hatch. Then you and Mary can tumble right into the boat.”’ “Fine!” said Dooin. “The girl won’t have to get wet, and she can keep all of her clothes on. Can you manage the boat by yourself?”’ I was confident that I could. He ex- plained that it was riding to a painter from the port quarter boom. I pushed ahead of him and reached the head of the ladder. I felt to make sure the pistol in my belt was to hand, and then skipped through the hatch to the open deck. The false light that comes just before the dawn was paling the eastern horizon. The moon was gone, but the stars were bright. The decks were still a patchwork of light and shadow. My first glance was forward where the fight was in progress. I saw darting figures about the foot of the bridge, and saw the stabbing flames as revolvers were fired. The shouting had ceased. One side to the combat had retreated to the bridge, and was holding it-against assault. The open space of deck where Ralder had lain a few hours before was still bright in the starlight. And almost upon the very spot where Ralder had died another body sprawled. Forward, near the smokestacks, I saw another motionless heap. Off our starboard bow, some three miles distant, was the steady, white beam of a lighthouse. Instantly, I knew where we _ ‘were—at the entrance to Oregon Inlet, on the edge of the Platt Shoals, and a few miles distant from Bodie Island light. Close to us, on our port side, was the yacht, a white - painted bulk, without lights. A fight was raging on her decks, also, and the sounds of conflict mingled with the uproar from our own decks. I could see nothing of the fighters—only the flame of their shots. The two ships were lying in a little bight, and the beach was about a half a mile dis- tant, astern. It was just a low black line, _ and I knew that the shore thereabouts was simply a narrow strip of sand dunes, di- viding the ocean from the Albemarle Sound. My survey had occupied but a moment’s time, but an impatient hiss warned me that Adventure Dooin was waiting. I leaned over, unlaced and removed my shoes, and spoke to him in the hatch while so doing. “Tl scull the boat around to the star- board side,” I told him. ‘Then we will be out.of sight of the yacht. It is safer.” “All right,” he answered. “We'll be wait- ing on the starboard side.” I started. When I left the friendly shad- ow of the hatch cover, I had a lighted strip of deck to cross. I took it at a jump, my heart in my throat. But the gang forward were too busied with their row to have rov- ing eyes. water. The Wasp stood but a scant six feet out of water, and I made hardly a splash. I arose and struck out strongly, keeping close to the side of the ship. . IL saw the whale-boat heaving ahead of me. It took but a moment to reach her, clamber over the gunwale and grasp for the painter. I severed the rope with my clasp- knife and allowed the boat to swing in against the side of the Wasp. I was afraid to use an oar until I had rounded the stern, for fear of being seen. Instead, I clutched at the smooth sides of the destroyer and hunched the boat along, safe in the shadow cast by the big hull. When I reached the sheer stern, I tumbled aft and shipped the big steering- I gained the side safely, slipped ~ - through the life-lines and crenped into the oar with which the whale-boat was provided. . In another moment, I was softly nosing along the starboard side. I whistled softly when I reached the quar- ter, and held the boat in position with the oar. As an answer to my signal, a length of rope dropped in the boat from above. “All right, Mac,” came Dooin’s soft hail. “Stand ready to catch!’ And his shadow, athwart the life-line, disappeared. Standing on the stern-sheets of the whale- boat, I could just peer across the Wasp’s deck. I saw that Dooin had made fast the end of the rope to the quarter bitts. Dooin himself, as I looked, was just emerging from the cabin hatch, leading Mary. Forward, the battle between the gang- sters had developed into a siege, to judge from sounds. The battle had passed by the bridge, and an attack seemed to be in progress against the forecastle. I could see none of the combatants, the darkness and the bridge concealing them from view. But the shooting was continuous. (E(0) 1.OO (©)