Adventure Magazine Cover — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

Mashlugi’s Mucklucks It was a strong man’s fight with a strong man’s climax. Beaten the length and breadth of his own deck, Black Pete backed against the cabin door, the fear of impending defeat gleaming in his eves that but a moment before were glaring in hate. The bruised and fighting thing before him was not a man, even though built like one. He was super-human—a machine of bone and muscle, without a brain, for a man has a brain and knows when he is defeated. The reeling mountain before him did not know when he was whipped and so he continued. No man before had ever felt the imprint of Black Pete’s boots and then boasted of vic- tory and now—— Black Pete had lived to see a man fight off his death-dealing boot-heels and come back for more, and now he was making his last stand against his own cabin door. What would those in the South Seas say when they heard? And then it came—a fist that seemed to have the driving force of a glacier back of it, but the speed of a bullet. The flesh across the knuckles split to the bone from the impact. The back of Black Pete’s head splintered the cabin door as it snapped backward from the blow. For an instant his body seemed pinned to the door, then the door burst open and Black Pete van- ished within. Half in fear, the Cleo’s crew fell back, little realizing the man who reeled drunk- enly about had gathered his last ounce of strength to vanquish his foe. The weak- est man among them could have taken Madison’s measure at that moment, but no hand was lifted; they only gazed in speechless awe. He wandered about the deck a moment, his brain dead, his body alone carrving on, then he seemed to reahze he had won. There was no trace of exultation upon his face; rather, it was an expression of satisfac- tion in a duty performed. On the deck lay the mucklucks where Pete carelessly tossed them after shaking them defiantly at Madison. He picked them up, regarded them a bit grimly, then tossed them aboard his schooner where Mashlugi ‘with a cry of joy fairly pounced upon his strange footgear. Madison mounted the Cleo’s rail, then leaping aboard his own schooner, turned and faced the crew of the other. “Tell Pete,”’ he hegan, then paused, “tell 69 him nothing! He should take a hint! Get that anchor back aboard the Maryl”’ They jumped to obey as Madison van- ished into the cabin of his schooner. Outside the cabin door Mashlugi hovered. His precious mucklucks once more adorned his none too cleanly feet. His stolid face fairly glowed from the depth of his grati- tude and affection. He desperately wanted to do something to show his appreciation. When Madison again appeared, the Mary was just approaching the village, from which skin-boats were already swarming. So far as nature would permit, he had re- moved the traces of battle, but in appear- ance he was still far from the Madison of a few hours before. Mashlugi rushed up, his lips flowing with his words of gratitude. “And for me you did all that—beat the terrible Black Pete!”’ he exclaimed. ‘‘No, Mashlugi, not for you, but for all white traders who play square—a, matter of principle! You probably don’t know what that is, except in your native way.” But Mashlugi proved that he did know on the following day, when several of the largest skin-boats, capable of carrying sev- eral tons of freight, began putting out from the shore, laden with furs and ivory of a quality well-calculated to cause a trader to weep from pure Joy. Mashlugi explained that the entire lot was a present from the tribe—a gift of appre- ciation for the invaluable service rendered; that when the AJary arrived they were on the point of complying with Black Pete’s demand in order to save the precious muck- lucks and the prosperity and happiness rep- resented by them. Madison listened, then shook his head. ‘No, Mashlugi, I don’t do business that way. I refuse to take advantage of your gratitude, but renew my previous offer.” Mashlugi replied at length, then turned and barked an order at the waiting craft. At the same moment Madison shouted an order in English: ‘Break out our stuff, boys, and help get it over the side. Better get that knocked- down house out first—the chief wants it.” And with things progressing nicely, Mash- lugi stepped into his bidarka and was pad- died ashore. There Were certain things to be done, such as going to the mat with the devil, now that he had hxm where he wanted him—with his feet secure in the precious mucklucks. COmiclbooks C©