Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 175: what you’re looking at

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

Eight Seconds a broad pennant of black smoke at her fun- nel and a surge of water at her stem. “Forced draft,’ remarked Captain Mac.. ‘‘She’s not rambling toward us by chance.” Again the chain stretched taut, and again it rumbled as the anchor slipped and the Hawk wallowed to leeward. The second mate looked fearfully down the wind, and growled in his throat as he saw the nearness of the gleaming rocks. “Bosun,”’ called the captain, “‘where is that big squarehead seaman of yours—Larken?”’ “*°R’s aft, sir; I'll get ’im for yer!” Leaving Scott to watch the anchor chain, the captain and the boatswain went aft, where they found Larken, the big seaman. “What d’you say there, One-Two Mac?” called Breen as they approached the store- room. ‘Goin’ to let me out? Or are you goin’ to drown me like a cat ina bag? Come on—give us a chance to kick out with the rest!” “Mr. Tenny—have you the key to the storeroom?” asked the little captain. “Yes, sir.” “‘Open the door, then.” Tenny, protesting, opened the door; and Breen, a faint smile on his face, stepped nonchalantly to the deck. “Kind o’ looks bad, don’t she, Cap’n?” he remarked, nodding toward the rocks. “Looks like we ain’t goin’ to Port-au-Prince after all.” He closed one eye and gazed at Captain Mac with an expression of grim gloating on his face. But his expression became tinged with anxiety as he turned and took in the white ship foaming toward them from the north. With his feet wide spread and his body swaying to the roll of the ship, he stood gazing with speculating eyes at the ap- proaching vessel; then, suddenly he started, his eyes blazed and his nose twitched with surprize and anger. “Forty-seven kinds of ——!” he ex- claimed. ‘Why, that’s—that’s es His mouth snapped shut like a sprung trap; and when he turned to the captain, and held out his wrists, he had assumed an in- different air and there was nothing but the wrinkling of his nose to betray his emotion. “Well, come on, One-Two Mac,” he said; “you was goin’ to take the cuffs off, wasn’t your” e “Not exactly,” answered Captain Mac, lifting one side of his mouth in a thin smile. ‘Til take one off now and the other off when 173 we hit. And when you leave the ship I’ll put them both on again!” “Like —— you will!” “You'll see. I saw you look at that ship —I suppose you recognize her?” “Huh? No—I don’t. Fruit boat, eh?” “You know better than that. You know well it’s the Binghampton, and that she’s coming for you!” Breen glanced shoreward. “She won’t get me, though!” he said firmly. Captain Mac unlocked the handcuff from Breen’s right wrist, and beckoned to Larken, the big seaman. “Keep hold of this fellow, Larken,”’ he said. ‘Don’t let him go unless I tell you to. And watch him—he’s slippery.” “Ay, sir, I’ll watch ’im,” answered Lar- ken confidently, and he took firm hold of the chain with one huge hand. THE Hawk’s propeller was clear of the water now, and the boatswain and two men, each armed with a sharp ax, had slipped to the stage rigged under the counter and were chopping fran- tically at the snarled hawser. Oil floated aft from where Tommy Downs and his men were pouring it over the side, and the long swells rolled under it like under a blanket, without breaking. : “A ’alf-hour more, sir,’’ called the boat- [ Swain, and he grunted as the edge of his ax bit into the tough Manila. “A half-hour!” groaned Tenny. “Ye dang hammerhead, we’ll be on the rocks in half an hour!” Doin’ the best we can,”’ replied the boat- swain. “By ——!” exclaimed Captain Mac; “I think that cutter will reach us in time! Here, son—’” to a young seaman—‘“run for’rd and tell the second mate to have a line ready to run out to that ship when she gets close enough to take it.” The Hawk was still setting to leeward, but slower and slower as the chain cable got a better lead and the anchor dug deeper into the bottom. But the rocks were close! ‘“‘How much longer are you going to be, bosun?”’ asked the captain, putting his head over the rail. “About ten minutes, sir; it’s comin’ easier than I thort it would.” Captain Mac turned to the mate. “Mr. Tenny, stand by the engine-room door, and when I give you the word, sing Comicbook © 5}