Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

16 his hat. Bare-headed, he showed thin of hair, his skull knobby and with the ears set high; so high, indeed, that they gave hima singwarly wolfish appearance. Hampton had ere this met men with high ears, and had found little good in them, so that this troubled him. “Here’s the lay. D’ve made all arrange- ments for boats and mules; and, as I told ye, for a schooner at Panama. If I could be there in person to fulfil) my obligations by taking the company across in person, all well and good; but I’ve business interests, and at Chagres may be called aside. Then what? You to take charge. Those rascally natives will need the strong hand of au- thority. This man Warlock can speak Spanish, so let him come along. Both of you on wages to Panama, and there, Mr. Hampton, take your choice! Go your way if you like, or I’ll make you captain of one of my schooners.” “Hm! Then you’re taking me along merely to run things in case you’re called away?” ‘“Right—and because I like you.” “Fair enough. It’s agreed.” Hampton knocked out his pipe. ‘‘Now I'll tell you why I want to go. Did you ever happen to hear of a renegade Englishman or Ameri- can down there, who uses the names of Winslow or Dias?”’ . The effect of this question was astound- ing. Day started, and his glassy eyes gripped on Hampton, while a queer pallor stole across his face; then, suddenly, there came a little click! and a cocked derringer showed in his hand. “Explain those words!’ he snapped harshly. ‘‘What do you know of that man?” “IT mean to find him,” said Hampton, astonished. ‘‘He is a rascal = “‘He’s my bitterest enemy on this earth,” said Day, then drew a deep breath and re- laxed. He thrust away his pistol, took out a fresh cigar, lighted it. ‘Your pardon, your pardon—the very mention of that man’s name was a whiplash! He has in- jured me sorely. Why seek you him?” “Then you know where I can find him?” demanded Hampton. There was a momentary conflict of will, here in the cabin, while Job Warlock sat back and sucked his pipe, shaggy brows pulled down over steely eyes that looked from one man to the other. Day had asked a question, so had Hampton; for a moment Adventure it seemed that neither would yield to other in stubborn determination to be answered. In Day’s powerful features those glassy eyes were glittering and flaming, betraying a savage exertion of the will, but Hampton met and answered the look with eyes cold as gray ice. He was, in fact, wondering why Day was so desperately intent upon being answered first, and a flashing, mo- mentary warning was implanted in his mind by the glimmering dark gaze. Then Day shot up his brows and yielded. “That is something no one knows,” he an- swered slowly. ‘‘The man is no hetter than a pirate. It is said that he is established somewhere in Baja California, on the gulf called the Vermilion Sea or Sea of Cortez; still, nothing is very certain down there. I have old scores against him, but lack the strength to cope with him openly. If this expedition goes through successfully, I shall have money enough to work against him. Then I shall hire men and go after the rascal.”’ “Good,” said Hampton. “I got home yesterday to find a letter from my brother Eli, who went to California and got no farther than Panama. This man Winslow, or Dias, bound him into slavery. You and I might pursue our mutual end together, if it pleases you.” Day started slightly. “Oh!” said he. “So that’s it, eh? Yes, Mr. Hampton, your proposal appeals to me. Hm! Well, we shall discuss the question later on. I am glad that you have decided to go with us. Our company numbers forty-three in all, and most of them come aboard in the morning, since we sail to- morrow afternoon. The officers and many of the crew are ashore, so I had better go and look up your quarters, if you’ll ex- cuse me.”’ Then Day rose and left the cabin. For a little, Hampton and Job Warlock sat together in silence, until at last Warlock cleared his throat and then grunted. ‘‘A penny for your thoughts, matey,” he said in an odd voice. Hampton looked up. “Eh? I was thinking that Mr. Day will make money by this trip,”’ he said reflec- tively. ‘He’ll charge them a flat five hun- dred dollars a head to Panama, and will clear a tidy sum by that alone; while the passage to ’Frisco will be as much more, on his own ships.” micloool © inn