Adventure Magazine Cover — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

46 find himself persona non grata at future _ board meetings of this firm. “Also, although we can’t say anything at present regarding any action the Board of Inquiry will take about you or your certi- ficate, I may say that your past record wil not be lost sight of, and unless you feel you must return to England, you need not worry about finding employment, for we can use a man of your sort out here on the shore- end—a man able to decide quickly and with guts enough to act on the decision. Will you come up to the office with us now?” I felt as if I’d swallowed a wad of dry oakum, but my feet didn’t want to stay on the deck. I sneaked a look down at the open door and twigged the director, stand- Adventure ing off a bit with a big cigar, waiting for the skipper to finish dressing; and from time to time, as he pottered about in a half-daze, I caught a slant at Captain Basil’s face, and it was the face of a mighty proud man, I tell you. Then, when the-pilot, no other, stumped along and stuck a great hairy fist inside the door and speechlessly gripped the old man’s hand and wrung it, I seemed to feel a sort of presentiment that a sacrifice had not been made in vain, and that perhaps, after a rat- faced shipping man had answered a few questions yet to be put, there might be brighter days even for Dick Basil and the girl who stood by him when he started out to prove himself a man. 4 TYPHOON by Gordon Malherbe Hillman HERE’S a patch of red in the western sky, - And a soft wind sways a palm, As the schooner glides with the sluggish tides Out from the atoll’s calm. There’s a furnace glare in the western sky As the worn sails tug and slew, And the typhoon tears through the tropic airs To blacken the channel’s blue. \ There’s the blackness of night in the western sky ces As the sand drives on the deck, And the great waves race through pitch-black space As she pounds like a broken wreck. There’s the thresh of rain on the ee seas As we race before the gale, And she buries her stern in the typhoon’s churn, With a reef in every sail. comichbook s (E@)