Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

THE inroad of stevedores from the other vessel had at first ' caused consternation on board ® the Carib Warrior. They were the two largest steamers in the anchorage, and their combined gangs comprised about a third of the whole personnel of the union. Incidentally, all the officers and leaders of the union were among them. “But, Don Julio,” protested the chief tally clerk of the Carib Warrior, as the president of the union climbed aboard, “the old one will not have prepared enough food for so many!” “Then shall we eat first, as having to return to the other steamer.” An angry murmur greeted this announce- ment but it was stilled by the piping voice of the old cook announcing that he had enough ready to feed everybody. The tally- clerk was minded to reprove him for his extravagance in cooking so much, but for- got it in the rush for plates. Some twenty minutes later Romero shoved away his plate, on which there still remained some rice, with a vague but un- mistakable feeling of unrest. He lighted a cigaret, but discarded it a moment later, the smoke tasting stale in his mouth. His disquiet increased, and he sat down heavily on the hatch combing, resting his head in his hands. minutes later he raised his head and saw one of the tally-clerks lying on the deck, his head sticking out over the steamer’s side. A racking cough shook the tally clerk. Romero joined him hastily. The officers of the Carib Warrior were as*much at a loss to explain the strange malady which had gripped all the steve- dores as the victims themselves. They herded them all into the forward well-deck, where they lay prone and groaning. The men on the lighters lying alongside sensed the excitement on board the steamer, and Don Pancho of the Josefita, climbed up to investigate. He was met at the rail by the first and second mates. ‘“‘Here’s another one,”’ said the shorter of thetwo. “Has he got it?” “Tf he hasn’t already he probably will have,”’ answered the other. “Right!” said the first “For’rard with him!” Pancho’s curious questions were cut short by an affront to his dignity that left him spluttering in incoherent fury. The Hearing a low moan a few. Adventure two Americans grasped him under the arm- pits and lifted him off his feet, they carried him bodily forward and dropped him gently down onto the broad back of the recumbent Romero. Pancho stood up and surveyed the deck wonderingly. Of the sixty odd men who formed the combined gangs of the two steamers, not one was able to stand. Pancho’s questions got no answer, Pancho’s sympathy received no acknowledgment. As he stood there wondering he thought of a night the previous summer, a night when only the almost magical skill of el jefe had stood between him and the grave. “Oye, Don Julio,”’ said Pancho, “I know what sickness this is. I have had experi- ence in such things. It is cholera!’ “Then are we all dead men!” groaned the stricken Romero. : ‘Nol’ cried Pancho excitedly. ‘There is yet a chance! See the launch!” He pointed to the Caribeite, which was passing the ship on her way toward shore. “Let us wave to el jefe, that he may come,” and Pancho hastily related the incident when he himself, Pancho Urrutia of the Josefa, had been at death’s door and had been saved by the American. He ran to the bulwark and commenced to wave his hat. Pale, weakened men staggered to their feet and lurched to his side, joining Pancho in his efforts-to attract O’Keefe’s attention. There were a few agonized moments when it seemed that the launch was not going to stop, and then the Caribette swung around in a wide circle and headed for the ship. When O’Keefe came aboard Pancho in- terspersed his questions as to whether he had with him the little leather box with apologies for having revealed a thing el jefe had told him to keep secret and ex- planations that the greatness of the emer- gency had seemed to justify it. Romero heaved himself to his feet and stood there swaying. “Have you that little box of leather of which Pancho speaks?” he demanded of O’ Keefe. “T have the box,” answered the latter slowly. ‘“‘But I don’t know if I should give you any of the medicine. The drug is a secret one, very rare, and the only cure for cholera. If f£ save all of you there will be none left in case the epidemic starts on shore. It may be wiser to let you die; COMIGDIOOKSEEO