Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

Carstairs Plays a Hunch watch, the Balandra Head would not have. gone off her course and scraped herself raw on a reef, and she wouldn’t now be laid up in Port Plata getting herself temporarily patched up. Youth and a clean life helped Carstairs to a quick recovery, and he and Faney were soon back aboard their ship. Even his little, suffocating quarters looked good to Hugh, as he poked about to see that his possessions hadn’t been touched. He went over the ship like a woman returned to her home after an enforced absence. He looked about him thoughtfully. Funny how he’d come to love the old tub! She was a hideosity—antique, dirty, paint- less, shapeless. Yet Hugh felt a warm glow of affection for her as he walked about her decks and finally came to a pause at the rail. She was like her skipper: little, cocky and valiant. Seafaring had never so fascinated Hugh during his service in the White Fleet. Life had been too tame there, entirely too polished. This new experience, during which he had tasted his first actual adven- ture in that mixture of mutiny and hurri- cane—this had been real stuff! Hugh chuckled at the remembrance of it. As he leaned against the rail his thoughts wandered to the prodigal’s return ahead of him. Hang being a rich man’s son, with a fortune at his disposal and a parental injunction to “think of business!” This business of going to sea suited Hugh. It beat fortunes and investments. At this point in his moody cogitations, Carstairs sighted Captain Merriweather bearing down upon him. There was an expression of anxiety on the little skipper’s face and a peculiarly heavy drag to his walk. “He’s getting old!’ Hugh murmured to himself. “And he knows the Balandra Head has grown old ahead of him! If anything happens to her, I suppose he’s done!”’ Captain Merriweather came to a stop at Carstair’s side, his elbow almost touching Hugh’s as he leaned on the rail, alongside. “Worrying about the Balandra Head, sir?”’ Hugh asked, after a long silence. “Worryin’? , no! Why’d I worry about her? She’s a good ship!” Merri- weather exploded. But the drawn lines about his mouth did not relax. “It’s only spitting distance to Porto Rico 143 and dry dock, anyway,’’ Hugh remarked, consolingly. ‘‘We’ll soon be patched up and on our way.” ‘“‘Ain’t no dry dock in Porty Ricky,” Cap- tain Merriweather grunted. ‘‘They’s a floatin’-dock at Porty Prince, an’ as we gotta pick up cargo round that side of the island, we'll attend to our doctorin’ there.”’ Carstairs lifted his eyebrows, but he re- frained from comment on the change of plans. ‘“‘Any cargo here, sir?” he asked. | “Hides.” The Old Man shot out the single word and then glared at his second mate. “You needn’t to bother with ’em,” the skipper went on, as Hugh made no re- sponse. “‘I’ll attend to ’em. Want you to rest up as much as youcan. You ain’t altogether loose o’ your fever, yet. An’ we're not due any picnic excursion, headin’ north.” “Rest up!” Carstairs snorted. “What d’you think I am? A débutante about to bud?” Captain Merriweather blinked. ‘“Day- bewtont”’ was a new flower to him. Now and then, the second mate did use fancy words! “T’m still skipperin’ this ship!’ Merri- weather snapped. ‘You'll do just as you’re told, young feller!’ Carstairs grinned. “Yes, sir!” He glanced sideways at the troubled face. ‘Didn’t know there was any trade in this dump of a place,” he remarked quizzically. Captain Merriweather grunted. “Lotsa things you don’t know about Haiti,” he retorted. “You and Mister Faney are here to help navigate my ship, not to know my business!” ‘““___? Hugh breathed, as the skipper strode away. “The Old Man curses me and coddles me like a hen-pecking wife! Well, Pll manicure my nails in my boudoir while he nurses his cargo into its cradle below. I should lose my beauty sleep!” THE next day, the temporary re- aS pairs being finished, loading was started. Carstairs had gone to his room as or- dered, but it was hot and he was restless. Finally he went out on deck. He walked aft where, to much racket, cargo was being lowered down Number Two hold. COMmMiICLOoOokS.GO©