Adventure Magazine Cover — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

80 it out o’ me, hop in,” invited Snoots. “There ajn’t no time like right now.” Gillen rushed. Snoots didn’t hit him. As it looked to me, Snoots just stuck out his fist, and Gillen ran into it. It caught him full on the mouth. As well might he have rammed the end of a solidly planted post. He stopped, then went reeling backwards drunkenly. His teeth were red with blood. “Finish him! Rush him, Snoots!”’ the gang chorused. But Snoots waited till Gillen Rad Tecov- ered himself. Then they mixed it. For about five minutes they went at it hammer and tongs. It was straight, stand-up-and- smash. They were about evenly matched. Gillen was the faster and had the greater reach, but Snoots had more of shoulder- power and steam behind his wallops. Fin- ally they clinched. “Break! break!’ shouted the gang. Then I saw the square-head, Johnson, stick out his foot and try to trip Snoots. I elbowed over alongside of him. When again he tried it I handed him a clip behind the ear that sent him reeling. The racket brought both doctors, fol- lowed by a stream of pharmacist’s mates. Big Doc Waldo came tearing through the gang. He was a powerful man, that Doc. He just stuck his two big hands in between the faces of Snoots and Gillen and pulled them apart as if they were a pair of kids. ‘‘What the ———’s the meaning of. this!’ he bawled. “He came at me first, sir!’ panted Snoots. “‘Leave it to any man here, sir!” “He’s a liar, sir!’ bellowed Gillen. “Further, I want to report this man for insolence, sir!”’ The pup, Johnson, tried to yip in. ‘Sir, Bennet called Gillen “Shut up!’ roared Doc. how it started!” He turned on Gillen. “On duty, you’re a master-at-arms; down here, you’re a patient. Remember that! With me, your word goes just as far as that of a coal-passer!’’ He whirled and faced Snootful. ‘And you-——” We paused, as if he knew not what to say. Snootful’s grin was our greatest asset. It had turned many a bawling out into a laugh. It had, in fact, saved him and me from a court-martial or two. Why, only a week before, we had won ten dollars on that grin. I bet the biggest grouch on the “I don’t care a _ Adventure ship he couldn’t look at Snoot for five minutes without laughing. He lasted fifty- eight seconds. Small wonder, then, that Doc Waldo, who had a keen sense of humor, took to his heels without finishing his sentence. At the door he halted and held his face straight long enough to announce that if there was any more rough stuff, the partici- pants would wind up in strait-jackets. aie in that germ-hole. We were so crowded. And they kept coming— five new ones the first day, seven the second, nine the third. The doctor had our lazar- house enlarged, by opening the two doors at the after-end and including two more small compartments; but still we were crowded. They clustered about and clogged the portholes like flies. No wonder the air was foul. And then the constant dread of the dis- ease. Already many had developed pustu- lar sores on their faces and hands. Keeping clear of these kept a fellow on the hop. In fact we did nothing but hop and duck and wiggle about all day. We had our bags, hammocks ard ditty- boxes right down there with us, all heaped in a corner. At night we spread our mat- tresses on deck, as far apart as space would allow; in the morning we rolled ’em up and tossed ’em in the heap. Up to the morning of the fourth day. the battle between Snoots and Gillen had not been resumed. They kept away from each other. But neither let the other get out of his sight. ‘“‘Watch your step,” I cautioned Snoots IT WAS hot, close, sweaty down -that morning, for about the thousandth time. time.” “Don’t think fer a minute I don’t know it,’ he assured me. ‘An’ jest notice that he’s partickaler watchful when I’m takin’ a drink o’ water. He’s wise that I got a bottle in my sock.” “Then you’d better get it out of your sock before the doctor comes around,” I said. “If Gillen’s dead sure it’s in there, he’ll blab.” | For such was the nature of one of those things called a master-at-arms. In the eyes of a self-respecting jack-tar, a master-at- arms was morally on a par with a cock- roach. He was looked upon as a white “He’s got his eyes on you all the cCOmicloolks (©