Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

98 “<Serang,’ says he hoarse-like, ‘whaur’s my son, the fourth engineer-sahib?’ ‘An’ the serang replied as followeth, to wit: That the young sahib had protested that one of the fiddley doors had jammed, and had gone on deck to wrastle with it; since when he had not returned. ‘To the which Robert Graham replied, “Did he come through here—has he been in here tonight?’ an’ the serang made answer, ‘Nay.’ ‘An’ Robert Graham the senior then said— “Ve lie, ye black dered my son!’ ” McWhee now endeavored to burst into tears, wipe his eyes on a towel, and go to , an’ you’ve mur- sleep, simultaneously. His desires being various, while I was single-minded, how- ever, I won. It appeared, rather disjointedly, that the serang’s next remark was an advice to the chief sahib not to lay violence upon him, unless he desired death at the hands of the burra tindel and his men; who had crept nearer bearing the tools of their trade— though they were off watch. “The sahib has said, in the presence of one of ours who waits upon the table, that. he is a just man, and fears God. I, too, fear God, and am just. Let us therefore speak together like just men, not snarling in the way of dogs.” “In irons, an’ ye’ll hang at Liverpool!” gasped the chief engineer, staring wildly from what looked like a lump of coal at his feet, to the face of the serang. “Wait, children,” said the serang to the burra tindel’s party. And then to the white man: “T, too, am a father.”’ Now chief engineer Graham burst through his Primitive Methodism into a stream of horrible oaths, and turned to rush back into the engine-room; but half a dozen lascars barred the way; and when he tried to rush them, they seized him and wrapped their wiry, sweating limbs about him, and bore him backward, and clamped his arms and legs, by sheer weight, to the hot steel floor. He yelled at the top of his voice, knowing that he could not be heard above the beat of the seas on the closed deck gratings. There was, even, no racing of the screws to bring aid down into the engine-room. The Lascar donkeyman was easing the throttle Adventure with the dull reliability of the native under white command. : ‘Hurt him not, my children,” said the serang. “‘Heisa just man— Can the sahib hear me?”’ Graham, staring up into the white- bearded brown face in the glare from a furnace door, gave a choking sob. “Sahib,” said the serang gravely, “TI have killed your son. Iam not a common Lascar, to le under accusation. And in my time I shall be judged; but not now; and not in Li-’v-’apol. Were I hanged now, my daugh- ter and her man-child would starve, and my honor be as black as though I had not avenged her. Thy son was a stealer upon the housetops; a murderer to boot.” Robert Graham writhed violently under the hands of the Lascars holding him. “Ye lie!” os ‘‘Nay. I lie only in the way of business; not in the way of honor. I am—I was a merchant. Be just, O just man; cause me not to kill thee, and bear a double burden. ‘Was not thy son in Bombay, a twelvemonth gone, in the ship Man-chester—tor two months, while there were repairs? ‘Then he defiled my house by stealth; then he slew my son in law, who discovered him. And I have awaited his return, paying many spies; and I have crossed the black water, working with my hands, for my revenge. Judge me, O God fearer! Look me in the face— Let him to his feet, dogs.” The fathers, the two just men, stood eye to eye; in the glare, as it were, of Hades; surrounded by imps of the pit. “How it became known that I had done this thing, I know not,” said the serang. “It was written that I should trust thy justice, rather than the lies of these dogs. Thy son defiled my house; I have purified it with the flames of his body, burning in that furnace. He slew my son by marriage; I have slain him. Judge, then!” For half a minute, if my imagination is any good at all, there was a silence which the roar of the great fires, the thunder of seas on the deck, and the din of the en- gine-room, allied, were powerless to break. Then—I quote McWhee literally, less only the accent and the hiccoughs—then old Robert Graham turned slowly about, picked up the object like a lump of coal, which had lain at his feet when he accused the serang, and made as if to stuff this object into his pajamas pocket. This task proved difficult, CoMmichoook< A) (© 5}