Adventure Magazine Cover — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

Tillicums Quiet for maybe ten minutes. Then a long, gurglin’ rattle from Michael. Right away its mate from the Swede. __ “By the long-lipped moose,” I swears to myself, ‘“‘they’ve both gone rock-a-by! The - gods has sure rewarded me for my fore- bearin’ attitude toward these two locos. Here’s where I grab me a night’s sweet slumber, same as if these here Piutes ain’t present. An’ sure enough, the soul-fillin’ music of them snores soothes me to rest in less’n three minutes. It’s grand! I guess maybe all hands sleeps for a good hour or more. Then, without no warnin’ or preliminaries of no kind whatsoever, a long screechin’ how] breaks loose that fairly knocks the chinkin’ from between the logs. It scares me so that before that awful noise has half died away I’m out in the middle of the floor, fumblin’ for a match an’ shakin’ like a jelly-fish in a tide-rip. Then she starts in again. “Help! Leggo! Stop him! Ow-w-w!” All the time there’s the awfulest thrashin’ around, mixed in with a steady smashin’ an’ thuddin’ that tells me some guests of mine is engaged in a fight to a fare-you-well. Right -then an’ there I make the worst play of the night. Instead of grabbin’ my blankets an’ goin’ outside to sleep in peace an’ comfort, lockin’ the door after me as I go, I gotta fool around till I get hold of the matches an’ a candle. When the tallow- stick quits sputterin’ here’s what I see: Them two mavericks has got a vise-lock on each other, an’ they’re twistin’ an’ rollin’ round like two Jap wrasslers. But that ain’t all. They’re holdin’ each other, reverse ends. Each of them hombres has got his arms around his compadre’s legs, an’ they’re hammerin’ an’ punchin’ each other on the calves an’ shins in a way that’s sure satis- fyin’ to behold. Only, of course, they can’t do hardly no damage, which is kinda too bad. An’ all the time Michael Joseph is yellin’ an’ hollerin’ an’ beggin’ me to pull the Swede off. As for Ole, he ain’t makin’ a sound. By an’ by it sort of comes to me that this here unusual silence on the part of Mr. Erickson is kinda queer—so I bend over close to have a good look. What I mean, that tow-headed son of old man Erik has got him a copper-riveted cinch. Even an Irishman is entitled to yell under them circumstances. - nothin’. 109 For Ole has got one of Michael Joseph’s — big toes in his mouth, an’ he’s chewin’ away like he ain’t had nothin’ to eat since last Sunday a week! . Course, that writes a new slate right there. I can’t stand to have it said that I allows such rank cannibalism to run rampant in my domicile thataway. So I throw a bucket of water into Ole’s mug; an’ then, to make sure, I taps him on the head a couple of times with a bottle of vinegar that I grab off of the table. Then, soon as I get Michael established on a stool, I help the Swede to navigate over to the bunk, where he immediately lays down. He’s got a couple of good, healthy-lookin’ bumps on his conk an’ he appears to be sort of dazed. Vinegar is sure bad for some folks. Both gladiators is quiet by now, so I reasonably figger it’s my turn. An’ what I’m tryin’ to say, I’m mad! “Listen,” I commands, “both of you. Right now is when you’two brings your evenin’s entertainment to a end. I done stood for a plenty an’ a lot over, an’ I’m a heap weary of your efforts to enliven a dreary night. I’m aware that the rules of hospitality is plenty elastic; but I’m warnin’ you that they’re about due to snap! Either of you starts jes’ one more of your infantile pranks an’ I step right into the middle of things with evil intent an’ a pick-handle! An’ I sure beats you wahoos to a pulp!” “What you hollerin’ about?’”’ Michael in- quires. ‘You got no kick comin’ about What I want to know, what kind of a host are you-all anyway? Whatever do you mean by allowin’ that taffy-haired man-eater to mayhem me thisaway?”’ “That’s what,” the Swede chimes in, “Tf you-all fulfils your duties as our host, you analyzes an’ studies the temperments - of your guests an’ prepares accordin’—then this here mélée never comes off. I don’t hardly know when I been in anybody’s shack that’ S SO lax an’ careless about the comfort an’ welfare of his visitors. It’s awful! “Another thing,” he goes on, turnin’ to Michael. “I’m waitin’ to hear your excuse for stuffin’ your toe into my mouth that- away.” “Pm doin’ you a favor,” the Irishman allows. a half-hour; by then, I’m positive you’re stranglin’ your fool self to death. You Comicbooks “I listen to you snore for maybe