Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

538 Red Landyard came aft two days later and rubbed a frosted finger along his blue nose. ‘‘ What was th’ longitude,” he asked Micky, who had taken a fleeting, and some- what unsatisfactory observation when the sun showed a cold eye through the wind- driven clouds. Micky balanced himself and glared at the icy rigging. ‘“‘ We’re where we were,” was all he said. Red Landyard was forced to shorten storm sails that same watch. He-ordered the crew aloft with kettles of hot water to thaw the blocks. He personally cleared reef-points with a belaying-pin. . Coming down to the quarter-deck he saw Micky braced against a deluge of ice par- ticles and the tops of waves which the steady gale whipped from the sea. ‘« Still blowin’,” he said. “ It’s freshen- ing some. It’s been nineteen days now an’ we haven’t made a knot to th’ east.” Micky acted like a Mother Cary: chicken wheeling to attack a herring. ‘I'll ’‘ammer you—you red bloater, you!” The little skipper slipped on the deck and would have fallen if the mate had not reached out a steady arm. “ Easy,” suggested the tall Yankee. “I don’t blame you, skipper. You’re anxious | to get home to your wife and kids.’’. “Tl do it on this course!” Red Landyard suggested something con- cernifig the Flying Dutchman. The big mate looked the sea over with a shrewd eye. All he saw was slate-gray clouds, mountainous waves, and the tossing jib-. boom of the clipper ship describing a slow circle—like a drunkard’s finger. ‘“We'’re not even off the Horn,” he left as a parting shot to the fuming skipper. “ Better unship that idol.” Micky hung on the same course over the night. He took a most careful observa- tion of a fleecy moon. He checked and _ rechecked his figures. He came on deck at. daybreak, gave the order to put the wheel down and stand by lee and weather braces. “Tl try th’ other tack,” he told the mate. “It'll put us up th’ Coast of Chili.” ‘‘ Where we don’t want to go.” ‘ Get forrard!” shouted Micky. en sheets. I’m‘ comin’ around!” *“ Slack- yGoogle ~~ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, irons a minute, then came about with her braces and yards clattering and her storm sails fluttering. The new course was in the general direc~ tion of Easter Island. Red Landyard stud- ied the compass and shifted a chew before he spoke to the skipper. “Looks as if th’ wind was veering an’ heading us each time. There’s something queer about this ocean!” Micky took a short turn around the icy quarter-deck. He drew his head into the collar of his ancient pea-jacket and snapped for all the world like a turtle: “It'll be queerer if you don’t get for-— rard an’ roust out all th’ watch on deck. Some of them are slackin’, sir!” Red Landyard waited, dodged a fierce stab from the little skipper’s eyes, avoided a cold blue comber, and went off the poop. He got all of the watch out of the warm forecastle. Old Dipford grasped the mate by the arm and led him to the fore-peak. ‘“‘ Look over,” said the salt. ‘‘ Look at that figgerhead—a grinnin’ there. D’ye wonder at our luck?” Skipper says that’s a good luck idol. billiken!” ‘ Where’s been th’ luck?” Red was forced to admit that he had not seen any. ‘‘ What do the rest of the crew think?” he queried. “ They think a plenty!” _ Angry growls assented to this statement. The mate quieted the crew by promising that he would speak to the old man con- cerning the figurehead. He took his time A and waited until Micky had dined heavily - on salt beef and plum-duff. ‘“T was speakin’ to Dipford, skipper. He says that the crew are going to do some- thing desperate. | They are afraid of short rations and scurvy.’ ' Micky stared forward. ‘ What did they say about our idol, Red?” ‘“‘ They can see no luck in it.” ‘It’s a bloomin’ block 0’ wood carved in th’ image of some forgotten god. I’ve seen ‘em in th’ Carolines an’ in Samatra.” “All the more reason, then, for heav- in’ it overboard. I'll cut it away if you give th’ word. It worries th’ crew.” rigin. lal f Tat : THE OHIO STATE UNG O LUGS DOO Ss CO