Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

166 “Run—find him—and be quick about it! Don’t stop an instant! If you do, so help me, I’l1——”’ But Coleman, nearly blubbering with fright, had gone, scampered off toward the bridge, and Captain Mac could hear the cinders grinding beneath his fear-hurried feet. Mr. Tenny was in his room when Cole- man, wild-eyed, a trickle of blood on his lower lip, stumbled across the thres- hold. “Here!” he gasped. “A note—Cap’n Mac—I didn’t read it—couldn’t stop—I don’t know——” “Give it here!” barked Tenny, jerking the note from the other’s quivering fingers. “Drat it! What th’ heck’re ye croakin’ about?” He put the slip of paper close to his old eyes, and read— Bring irons. “T knew it! I knewit!” hecried. “Bring irons!” He yanked open a drawer of his desk and caught up a pair of handcuffs. CAPTAIN MAC, after seeing that Ez Coleman did not cross to the other ‘" side of the deck to read the note beneath the standing light, re-entered the wireless room, and knocked lightly upon the door that connected the wireless room and the sleeping room. There came the sound of movement from within, the slam of a door, and the click of a lock tumbler being thrown; then a sharp voice inquired— “What d’you want?” “S-sh!”’ hissed the captain. For a moment there was strained silence, then— “Oh—is that you, Coleman?” “Yes,” answered the captain, putting a quaver in his voice. ‘“‘S-sh!’’ He gave the door knob a slight impatient twist. “Stop shushin’ and say what’s up, you rabbit,” raged Breen; but even as he spoke he was turning the key in the lock. He flung open the door and stepped back. “Now, what the——” He stopped in amazement as Captain Mac thrust through the doorway. “T thought——” He paused again, bared his teeth, wrin- Adventure kled the skin on his nose and closed one eye. *““What’s the idea?”’ he demanded, watch- ing the captain closely. “The game’s fizzled, that’s all,’’ answered the captain. “What d’you mean — fizzled? game?”’ “Your game. It’sin the fire. You should learn to control your habits—particularly counting half-seconds aloud. Lots of navi- gators have that habit.” “Q-ho! So that’s how it is!” He stood turning the thing over in his mind, then, a cunning gleam in his eye, he backed to the bunk behind him, shoulder high, and threw one arm carelessly across the pillow. “Lay off that gun!” cried a voice from behind the captain. “I got a forty-five Colt trained on your gizzard, and if ye so much as move that putty nose of yourn you’ll be nothin’ but a ring aroun’ a hole!”’ Mr. Tenny, revolver in one hand and handcuffs in the other, stepped into the What room. “Hold out your hands, Breen,” ordered Captain Mac. Breen hesitated, glanced from the captain to the mate, pursed his lips thoughtfully, then held out his wrist. “T guess that’s that!” he said. Two sharp clicks, and his wrists were encircled by steel bands and held close together by a short length of chain. Cap- tain Mac took Breen’s revolver from be- neath the pillow and put it in his pocket. Mr. Tenny, a triumphant expression on his tanned face, shoved Breen before him into the wireless room. Coleman, his face haggard, stood aside to let them pass. “Here,” said Breen, elbowing Mr. Tenny to a halt, “I think this belongs to you,” and he tossed a flat brass key on the table be- fore the operator. 3 Coleman suppressed a cry, gulped, and caught up the key. ‘““What’s that?” asked Captain Mac quickly. “‘No-nothing, sir—nothing but a key.” “T know it’s a key, it, but to what?” ‘‘Just to the battery box, sir—that’s all.” With a pitiful attempt at nonchalance he dropped the key in bis pocket. “How did Breen get it?’’ inquired the captain, his black eyes searching the oper- ator’s face. CoMmicbook A) © 5}