Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

South, West and North The Salem man stared at the dark shape of the vessel, half-concealed behind the waiting piles of freight. He was thinking less of her than of his friend, however. He had not doubted that Job Warlock, despite protestations, would stick with him; yet it was a stern test of friendship, since Job knew well enough what awaited them in the south, and shrank from it. For the rest, one place was as good as another to the dark man, and no doubt the quest after the miss- ing Eli fired his Indian blood. ’ “T’ve had my eye on her,” went on War- lock, ‘and there’s going to be doin’s——’”’ “Go slow,” said Hampton. “Talk Spanish.” They both saw a figure crossing from ship to wharf—a large, dark figure, with the red glow-point of a cigar burning and dying; one of the officers going up to town, no doubt. Warlock continued in Spanish, which he spoke with Mexican purity, for im Mexico has survived the old gracious Castilian that has been lost among the lisp- ing dialects of Spain. “Doin’s aboard her, I can tell ye! Terri- ble long royal yards and stiff wi’ new canvas; an old softwood ship and hell to pump, and Yankee mates. Whew! But that’s not the worst. All these here,’’ and Job swept his arm out to indicate the freight piles, “are stores goin’ aboard, some for the voyage, some taken by the company. New York stores, and you know what that means.” “The gulf sharks will eat full, eh?” said Hampton. The tall dark figure was coming past them, cigar point glowing, booted heels crackling on the frosty planks. “Aye.” Warlock laughed harshly. “Old condemned army rations, old salvaged tinned stuff, full o’ poison. Bless me, you’ll hear the popping begin béfore we’re off Hatteras! Still, she has good lines and a Yankee crew, and they’ll drive her. I ex- pect she’ll see Chagres River in well under twenty days, barring bad luck.” “May the saints grant it, sefior!” said a voice in Spanish. The dark figure halted, and now came around a pile of boxes toward them. Hamp- ton, instantly recognizing that voice, turned. “That you, Mr. Day?”’ “Aye. Who’s this, then?” ‘Hampton and a friend. You recall our meeting in Boston?” “Oh! Hampton from Salem—well met, sir, well met! I wondered who on earth I5 could be speaking Spanish here; not a man abcard knows a word of it.” Day put out his hand, a warmth of quick cordiality in voice and grip. Hampton won- dered whether Day had caught the dis- paraging comments about the ship and stores, but did not ask. ““You’ve come to ship with us?” said Day. “T’d like to talk it over. I’ve run into an old friend, Job Warlock, bosun out of the Blackwall Line and a sound seaman. What are the chances for him to ship, too, as far as the isthmus? He doesn’t care for California, but we’re old friends and would like to ship south together if possible.” Day laughed at that. ‘‘D’ye know we could ship ten men for every berth for’ard? But come aboard with me—I was only off for a stroll. Come aboard and have a drink and a smoke in warm comfort. So you both speak the Spanish, eh? That’s good. We'll talk things over.” “Right,” said Hampton. Jo ade The three walked up the wharf and came to the ship, going aboard by a gangway of planks laid to aid the freight stowage. Even in the starlight Hampton could note the prim neatness of her decks, lines coiled and flaked, everything shipshape; her officers knew their business. Aft at the companion- way, Day chuckled. “Good thing you came along—this is my last bit of comfort. ‘Tomorrow we turn over most of these cabins to the ladies, and the officers will berth in the for’ard house abaft the foremast. Cap’n and passengers take the cabins. Well, here we are!”’ They descended into the cabin, where a gimbal-slung lamp dispensed light and warmth, and made themselves comfortable. Day appraised Jcb Warlock with one keen glance, and nodded without hesitation. “You'll do; we’ll make room for you, bosun. Some of our thrifty company mem- bers are working to Chagres as crew, and we'll need a good helmsman. Well, Mr. Hampton, you’ve decided to come?”’ “T think so,’”’ returned Hampton, puffing at his pipe and accepting the mug of grog that Day poured for him. ‘‘However, I don’t understand what my position is to be—after Chagres. Do we go up the river by boat?” “Aye, across by boat and trail to Panama.” Day stretched out his long legs and doffed “Come along, micloool C© inn