Adventure Magazine Cover — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

Yellow Treasure saying she would stay with me. But it was impossible. I shook my head. At this moment Sylvia entered. “What’s going to happen about the man at the wheel?” she asked without prelim- inaries. ‘“The pilot says he’s prevented him twice from bolting. Since we’ve stopped to wait for the pilot boat.” We looked at each other. Fraser was still lying in the coma of exhaustion. Mackenzie had tried to waken him and failed. “Mr. Burns is conscious, but unable to move,” said Sylvia. “You men have got other things to do, most likely.” ‘“‘T’m here,” said a weak voice from the doorway. Burns was leaning against the post, his head bandaged, but looking, thanks to the washing Sylvia and May-sing had given his wounds, infinitely better than during the fight. “Shall I take the bridge?” Sylvia turned like a whirlwind and took him by the shoulders. ‘You'll go right back and turn in,” she cried. “No, I won’t,’’ said Burns. “I’m strong enough to sit on the floor of the wheel-house and keep a gun turned on the helmsman.”’ ‘So am I,” blazed Sylvia, ‘‘and I’m going to do it.” O’Day by this time fully awake, inter- vened. > “You’re going to be locked in Burns’ cabin with this young lady here,’ he said heavily, pointing to May-sing. ‘This is a man’s job.” Sylvia stepped up to him, her cheeks burning. “I’m going to be right heredoing my part,” she told him, ‘‘and I defy you to stop me.” In the silence following these audacious words May-sing’s soft voice arose. “T too,” she said. Sylvia smiled. “T don’t know about you,” she said, look- ing at the little figure in its bright silks, ‘but I’m no novice with a revolver, and if my life’s going to be at stake I’m going to have something to say about it.” ‘“‘Also myself,’’ said May-sing respect- fully, bowing first to the captain and then tome. With a lightning-like movement of the wrist, she made a dagger flash in the sunlight and retreat up her sleeve again. “T attend helmsman.”’ A shadow filled the doorway; turning, we saw the smiling face of the pilot. 29 “Boat come,” he remarked, shaking hands with himself cordially. He stepped into the cabin. ‘“‘I speak word ashore?” he asked, the smile vanishing. ‘Seems likely you have trouble with crew. Could send patrol-boat after you.” ‘“‘No—no!”’ cried O’Day, thinking, no doubt as I was thinking, of those cases by Number 3 hatch. We had been cleared of the port in face of all the charges against us and the evidence we should have given, as a matter of public policy. But if a word reached the authorities of our half-ton of ownerless gold— With a shudder I won- dered if the helmsman could have spoken of it. But he had been on duty since before it was known to be on board. No reliefs had appeared on the bridge, either. “All right,” said the pilot. His eyes rested for a moment, puzzled, on May-sing; but he hesitated no longer. He shook hands with himself again rapidly and disappeared down the ladder. A moment later he was over the side, and his boat was pulling away. We watched him through the port until he sat down in the stern-sheets, his back to us; and then O’Day, drawing a deep breath, started for the door. “Can you read a compass?” he asked the girls. “On my father’s yacht,” said May-sing eagerly. “Then I’m going to leave you in the wheel-house for a few minutes,”’ said O’Day. *““Miss Parsons, you'll guard the top of the ladder. Mackenzie, you’d better get aft before trouble starts. Miss Sing, you’ll note the course and you'll persuade the man at the wheel not to let her deviate.”’ May-sing nodded, her right hand caress- ing the knife in her sleeve; her eyes, for a moment, anyway, on me. “You'll be out of sight in the wheel- house,’”’ said O’Day, leading the way to the door. “You crouch behind the weather- screen here, Miss Parsons. If any one attempts to come up, shoot.” All of us except Sylvia and Mackenzie followed him to the bridge. The Chinese quartermaster had left the wheel and was leaning over the fore-rail staring down at a group of Chinese on the forecastle who were only too evidently conveying to him, by sign language, the news. O’Day gripped him by the collar and GOMIIGHOO S © iin