Adventure, June 1911 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

296 getting misty or he must have water in his eyes. He rubbed them carefully and, after a short spell on his back, treaded water. Surely the lights were farther off now than before! His craven heart flut- tered fiercely and in a panic he raced along. Winded, he finally brought up and set him- self steadily and powerfully to overtake the lights. His muscles still worked rhythmically; the years had done little to impair his powers. His mind reverted to Larry. What was it the fool had said about dead men mocking him? Men ke hit never came back! With his black-jack he could crush their skulls like an eggshell! ‘Dead men tell no tales” was his motto, and if they told no tales, surely they could not come back. But what else had Larry said? Oh, yes! That he would think over every time they had been together from first to last. “th * S s “ ae ae crak so Pr . he rc. ; ee a . G . 4 /> wy > 4 ‘ - -* - ri “ 4 c ay le 4 "= - - 3 > fs - < ed id —s V me Z fe Sao Ss ee Mere ‘ 7 aoa as > "tar : << ' em is ” Adventure This was easy, he could number them on the fingers of one hand. The first time had been at Grogan’s and the second at Atlantic City, when they had attached those priceless antiques. Every morning they had taken a dip in the ocean, swimming far out to sea. One of the life- guards had told them they usually covered six miles, and here was Larry trying to drown him in half that distance! Then for some reason his thoughts shifted to the . last time he had seen Larry, lying face downward on the deck and megaphoning his last words to him through his hands. At the remembrance of that, the Rat threw up his hands and screamed hoarsely. No wonder the lights were fading! © He had set himself to overtake an ocean liner! But such is the love we bear for life that Denny the Rat, totally without hope, swam on and on. BY EDWARD CROSSLAND SMITH INCENT came into the dining- | room with such a calamitous ex- pression on his full-moon face that one accustomed, as I was, to his habitual radiance could not ignore it. He sank into the chair opposite, and gave an order for soft boiled eggs and coffee. “Ts there a competent dentist in this placer” he inquired dejectedly. IT named one of good repute in the calling. “Toothache, I suppose?” “Loose filling. I suppose I’ll have to live on liquid diet now, until it’s fixed. You see,’’ he complained, as his ascetic breakfast was put before him, “I’ve been eating dry toast to keep down fat, and I'll have to cut that out until this tooth is fixed. ‘You can’t eat dry toast with a loose filling rattling around in your tooth like a roulette-ball when the wheel slows down.” I conceded the point, and reverted to the business in hand. ‘“‘When we get out there DOOKS.CO 5} CONMUC