Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

444 the steel stairway extending into the cramped engine-room, and landed on the steel grating through which the engine was thrust. This venerable mechanism he appraised with the dubious eye of one who under- stood. Leaking steam from valves or pis- ton packings made a sizzling sound and floated upward in little wisps. The engine was of the steeple-compound type, sheathed with strips of aged larch which were bound in place by bands of corroded brass. Riley saw some one Stirring under the perforated steel floor. A man in overalls was bending down with his hand on a grease cup, “ squeezing down the dope ” into one of the main bear- “Hello below!” cheerfully.. The engineer craned his neck. His face was stone white underneath a layer of sweat and oil and dabs of grease. And his blie-lidded eyes seemed extremely lu- minous. ° He waved his hand. Whether it was a gesture of dismissal or one of invitation, Riley could hardly determine. So he waved back and waited. After a while the engineer climbed the ladder to his side wearing an expression that seemed to struggle between hostility and open annoyance at the interruption. The face and its liquid expressions were vaguely familiar to Riley. “Well, what can I do for you?” asked the engineer, wiping his hands on the hips of his overalls. | “Just looking her over,’’ confessed Ri- ley, grinning. The other disposed his hand against a stanchion. He seemed inclined to dowbt Donn Riley. “Well, what do you think—of this?” He tossed his free hand limply toward the steeple-compound. ‘Td hate to tell you,” replied Riley, with a broader grin. ‘‘ Some engine!” ‘‘ Engine?” snorted the engineer nasally. ‘“A bundle of scrap iron, 1 call her. Say, are you in the forward crew?” ‘I’m the wireless operator.” called Donn Riley ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S “ Ves?” he said doubtfully.. MAGAZINE. “Yah? The last one we had got drunk all the time. He quit this morning. Wasn't much good. Quarreling with the old man every other minute.” At the conclusion of this loquacity the engineer relapsed into his former moody ° Silence. Riley was silently remarking upon two things: the strange fashion in which his companion’s eyes went bright and then exceedingly dull by turns; the other, that in his past wanderings he had somewhere met this fellow. The knowledge persisted to evade him. As for his changeable eyes, those were the symptoms of an opium eater. That flashed a suggestion into his head. China! “Ts the old man hard to get along with?” he asked casually. ‘‘ Not if you know how to handle him. ” Riley nodded attentively. ‘‘ Been sail- ing with him long?” Where had he seen this fellow before? “I brought her up from Panama. ” ‘Oh, then, you’re the chief?” : That’s the way they have me down in the articles.” He seemed suddenly uneasy. “D’you know where we’re bound? I heard San Blas. Banana country. “To tell the truth, I don’t think the old hooker ’!] float long enough to reach Cape San Lucas. Making water like a straw hat. Lying right here alongside, I’ve had those damn bilge pumps going ten hours to-day. Believe me, if it wasn’t for the bonus money, I’d have signed off this after- noon.” . “He pays good bonus money,” admitted Riley. | “He has to, take it from me.” “You did a good job on that false stack,” encouraged Riley pleasantly. The chief engineer shot him a sharp glance. ‘‘ Should have been spending my time calking up leaks,” he grumbled. ‘“What’s it for?” asked Riley, still smil- ing his engaging smile. “Do I know? Do you know? Does anybody know? I suspect, like all other things in this world, it’s to do somebody some good. Yes; I mean good. This is a good ship in spite of herself. But I wish you could see what a crimp shipped down here for a fire-room crew. Cutthroats!” ~~ cConniclooolks (C(O) inn