Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

gO Anderson felt sick, but it was more the sickness occasioned by strained nerves and thwarted revenge than anything else. He was furious. Muttering curses to himself, he dropped below into the forecastle and poured himself out a cup of tea. One of the men was sitting on the lockers doctoring a poisoned hand, and being anxious to rid his mind of an unpleasant episode, Anderson spoke to him. “What stuff is that ye’re puttin’ Jim?” ‘“‘That’s arsenic,” answered the man. “It’s great stuff fur burnin’ away th’ proud flesh from them p’izenings by rusty hooks.”’ ‘‘Ain’t that arsenic a deadly p’izen itself?” “Tt sure is—ef ye were to drink it. A teaspoonful ’ud stretch ye stiff inside a minute. It’s one o’ th’ deadliest p’izens known. Thar’s enough in this bottle to p’izen ivery man aboard. Drop it in that tea-kittle an’ th’ Seldovia ’ud hev a gang 0’ corpses arter breakfust-time.”’ The man finished his doctoring and stowed the bottle away under his bunk mattress. Anderson watched him curious- ly and as he finished his tea an idea flashed through his mind which caused him to smile. WZ ing when they made the Bank, and the barometer was hovering on the 29.5 and dropping. Davidson was anxious to make a few sets before the next March gale struck in, and he,blinded himself to un- promising forecasts and ordered the dories away. “‘Set tub an’ tub, fellers!’’ he sung out. ‘An’ watch th’ vessel. I'll h’ist th’ queer thing for ye to come aboard ef it comes away nasty, but ye can’t always tell—we may git a whole day here afore it breezes up. Away ye go, now, top dory over!”’ Collins and Anderson, oilskinned and sea- booted, hauled their baited trawl tubs to the rail and overhauled their buoy-lines. “‘Cal’late I’ll go below an’ fill th’ dory-jar with fresh water,” said Anderson. “T’ll git a bit grub as well. Yenever know when one o’ them snow squalls is a-comin’ up an’ we'll take no chances ’case we git astray from th’ vessel. A drink an’ a bite help some ef ye sh’d be a day or two adrift in a dory.”’ on there, III IT WAS a dark, dirty-looking morn- Adventure Grasping the earthenware water-jar, An- derson jumped below ‘into the forecastle. The cook was on deck giving a hand at the dory tackles and there was nobody below. The fisherman gave a hasty glance around and delved with his hand under the mat- tress in a lower starboard bunk until he found a small bottle. “Arsenic!” he muttered. ‘‘That’s the stuff!” And drawing the cork, he poured the poison into the dory-jar. “T’ll fill Jim’s med’cine bottle with water or he’ll maybe git suspicious. Enough to kill ivery man aboard, he said—Um! I cal’late West Collins ’ull take a sudden turn o’ heart trouble in th’ dory today after he has a drink. Our tank-water is bilgey an’ he’ll niver notice any queer taste. Now for some grub.” On deck, the men were busy swinging the dories over, and Anderson placed the water- jug and the parcel of food on top of the gur- ry-kid. ‘“‘That’s our water an’ grub, West,’ he said to his dory-mate who nodded. “Git that jib on her some o’ yez!”’ cried the skipper just then. ‘“‘You Anderson and you Watson—ye might jump out an’ set that jib!” And the treacherous fisherman turned to execute the order with an appar- ently careless glance at his dory-mate who was carrying the water-jar and the food to their dory. : Some hours later when they were hauling their third tub of gear in the dory, the weather changed with the fickleness of the season. The wind came from the south- east in spiteful gusts, and the swell was mo- mentarily getting heavier. Overhead, the leaden clouds spread across the sky in an opaque thickness and the horizon became misty and undefined. Collins, hauling the trawl in the bow of the dory, paused and looked around. “Don’t see th’ vessel, Tommy! Cal’late it’s a-goin’ to breeze soon!’ Anderson, coiling the gear amidships, was smoking and staring anxiously at the dory-jar lying at his dory-mate’s feet. He was nervous, ter- ribly nervous, and his overwrought imag- ination was picturing the sight of his hated rival writhing in the death-agonies among the fish and blood-stained water in the dory bottom. So preoccupied was he with his ghastly thoughts that he did not heed the ominous portent of the weather. “T reckon we’ll jest haul this tub an’ make COMmicbhoooks (©