Adventure Magazine Cover — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

The Barden Paternal her cargo, loaded up with wool and cases of tinned rabbit and slogged home again, _ taking fifteen months over the voyage as if she sulked at the prospect of losing her revered old master. We tied her up, unloaded her, left her in charge of the second mate to await her new skipper, and Captain Basil and I proceeded to the builder’s yard to supervise the finish- ing touches on the new steamer. The S. S. Solander was a beauty’ even we two hard-bitten windjammer sailors saw something in her to praise; and that is all that need be said to prove her merits. In the novelty of his new command, the fever- ish activity of his days and the planning for the morrow of his evenings, the skipper found plenty to take and keep his mind off his troubles. But I knew from the little he let fall that Mrs. Basil was failing, that he wanted nothing so much as to throw up the whole shipping-business and go home to her; but she insisted that he remain and complete his service as desired by the owners. And I knew, or had a shrewd notion, that his de- fense of Dick, his staking him to a fresh start, and the illness of the old lady had sucked him almost dry financially. There was every reason for his staying on until he could haul down his flag for good and all. Sometimes a bright streak shone through the gray, and he would tell me with some- thing like his old smile that he had heard from Dick. “Doing very well, Billy, very well,” he would say, “Took on as mate in a little tub of a steamer when he landed out there, and made good. Seems as if he’ll get com- mand of one of the smaller ships now that his suspension’s up. Hope so, by gracious!” Everything looked fine when at last our steamer passed out of the river to steam her trials. If she satisfied the owners we would take her around to the Thames right away to load for Adelaide—first ship of the new line. And she satisfied -all right; exceeded her required speed, behaved like a sweet ship and merited all the popping corks in the saloon which saluted her return trip. That night Captain Basil was ashore at a big banquet given the owner by the builder, and did not get a letter which had come aboard for him until after midnight. He woke me up—it must have been but a few minutes after he came on board—and as he turned on my electric light I saw his 39 face. It was gray, gray, the gray of skele- ton-dust, and a full score years aged since morning. : “She’s dead, Billy,” he said slowly, as if striving to let me thoroughly understand what he was telling me. “She’s gone, my old woman, Billy, and Dick killed her, by |? Hé quit my cabin as abruptly as he had entered, and I resumed my broken sleep. There seemed nothing else I could do until morning, Then I turned the hands to and stood by for events. About mid-forenoon the owner sent down a clerk to say Captain Basil had gone to - London by train and that I was to take the ship around myself. The Clyde pilot came on board, and when we dropped him well outside, it was simple coastwise steaming until we picked up the mud-pilot off the shipwash for the run up-river to the docks. pee IT WAS a changed Captain Basil rate! Who took command after his wife’s “SJ funeral and carried the new steamer to sea. As for me, I found so much strange and interesting about my first steamship that I had small time to bother my head about the moods of my skipper. But Cap- tain Basil, bemg what he was, my oldest friend and shipmate, it was inevitable that his troubles and sorrows should in a measure reflect themselves in me. He spoke seldom, and when he did it was in curt, almost snappish monosyllables which speedily discouraged our few passen- gers from trying further to dig beneath his reserve. To me he was ever kindly, yet even to me he showed a distaste for con- versation other than simple orders and re- marks concerning ship’s business. We had coaled and left St. Vincent before he touched on any intimate matter, and then, gazing ahead into the dusky blue ‘of the creeping night, he suddenly exclaimed to me: . “By gracious, Billy! That boy’s got a heavy load on his conscience. Killed his mother, he did. Just as sure as if he’d beaten her to death with a club. I hope his days may be dark and his nights is The old man, broke off suddenly, and as - he raised his eyes to the skies I saw a look of awe, almost fear, cross his haggard face. Then he turned to me and seized my hand,’ careless of the curious grin on the quarter-' master’s face within the wheelhouse. Gomichoo (Q) (E@)