Adventure Magazine Cover — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

SAE = Wenn, ie fr eerlaced he ae 3 cocking the other leg over the tafrail _ “Where?” = “On. the bridge—the captain’s niece,” 2s ‘retorted Carnell sharply. “Get inboard; ‘we're casting 0 _ “So there is!”’ ‘ejaculated the owner’s son, looking up toward Vi on the bridge. “What luck!” He jumped to the deck, gave a tip to the loafer who had followed him with his valise, and, turning to the Second, added— “Just bring my bag along, will you?”’ - The Second glanced at him briefly from head to foot, turned away and held up both hands, calling out to the bridge— “All clear, sir!”’ Gingerly as if suddenly conscious of the filth from which he had derived so many pleasures in life Mr. Claude Selwyn picked his way amid the coal-strewn deck, mounted the ladder to the upper bridge, and, glancing curiously at the figure.of Vi, greeted the Captain hilariously: “Hullo, cap’n; here lam. Thought Pd join the old tub after all.” “Very kind, Mr. Selwyn,” muttered the ~ Old Man, frowning unconsciously. ‘Um. This is my niece, Miss Kelvett—Mr. Claude Selwyn.” “How d’ye do,” greeted Mr. Selwyn, sweeping off his hat. ‘“Awfully glad to meet you.” VI REGARDED him slowly over sd the top of a cigaret. She saw a man “of about thirty who was rather pouched under the eyes, with a prinky nose and a tight, hard mouth decorated by a military-trimmed mustache. “Really?” she drawled. “Oh, aren’t you?” he queried insolently. “IT reserve my decision,’ she retorted, smiling. “Begad, a Portia on a tramp!” he re- sponded. “I’m awf’ly glad I came. Oh,” he added, glancing aft; “that bally fool’s forgotten to bring my bag along. I say, cap’n, will you send some one along to fetch it? And by the way, did my stuff come aboard all right?” _ “Half-speed, Mr. Fellows?” inquired Captain Kelvett of the pilot. “Half-speed it is!) What’s that, Mr. Selwyn? Oh, yes. T’ll send a man along as soon as we’re clear | ae of the gates.” aside and remarked | iS Vi gailyr “So we’re to be fellow pascenneee Ta : no idea I was going to be so bally lucky. The gov’nor insisted, and to tell the truth I kicked like—er—the devil. A fellow never knows his luck though; what?” “Possibly.” Vi leaned over the rail, paused jade as if relenting and wishing to be sociable, added— “D’you live in Cardiff?” “Lord, no fear!” ejaculated Sao “Awful bally ho “Really? I was ‘born there,” commented Vi coldly, regarding the cold green seas of the Bristol Channel. “Oh, i say! —— it all, so was I for that matter,” responded Selwyn. “But you know some Johnny says that there are only two things a chap can’t choose—his parents and his place of birth.” “Most true and most unfortunate,” agreed Vi, turning toward him. ‘‘Person- ally I regret that I’m not the daughter of a millionaire aristocrat and a cobbler’s daugh- -ter—which would probably be the best chance for a gerijus.”’ “A genuis! Well, I am or will be a millionaire,’ retorted Selwyn, whose mus- taches, which were rather like a tortured yew-hedge, were twisted to one side. For a fraction of a second Vi’s big green eyes grew larger; then she took the cigaret from her lips and laughed. “Quite so,” she responded gaily. ‘““But—” she paused in mockery of his manner— “voure not an aristocrat.”’ He stared at her for a moment. Both sides of his hard mouth curved. “That’s so,” he admitted. “My father was a shipping-clerk on the wharf over there; but he’s got the goods.” “Possibly,” retorted Vie , But the: third generation, you know ‘Noblesse oblige!” “Quite true,” agreed Vi, “but you learned that phrase in school and not from your mother.”’ A shadow of anger passed across his eyes and the thin mouth tightened as he said— “Maybe; that’s not democratic.’’- “Yes, it is,” she countered swiftly. “A true aristocrat—true, I said—has drawn noblesse oblige in his mother’s milk and the proletariat has learned to work from the * Siew 7 =, Sa ta r Ge ca ee